PART 1: THE STRANGER IN THE WOODEN TUB

Silas Bennett had survived three Colorado winters, two bear attacks, and one particularly unpleasant encounter with a mountain lion.

But nothing had prepared him for finding a woman asleep in his bathtub.

It was late November, 1887, when the broad-shouldered mountain man returned to his isolated cabin with a sack of supplies and snow covering his beard.

He stopped dead in the doorway.

There, inside his enormous wooden bathing tub, lay a woman wearing a dusty blue dress, muddy boots, and a man’s oversized wool coat. Her auburn hair spilled over the rim, and she was snoring softly beneath his favorite quilt.

Silas stared.

Then he cleared his throat.

“Ma’am?”

Nothing.

“Ma’am, you’re in my bathtub.”

One green eye opened.

The woman studied him for a moment before stretching her arms.

“Oh, wonderful. You’re home.”

Silas blinked. “Apparently.”

She smiled sleepily.

“Would you mind bringing some hot water? I’ve been waiting for hours.”

For the first time in forty-one years, Silas Bennett had absolutely nothing to say.

“Hot water?” he repeated.

“Yes. Preferably before I freeze to death.”

“Lady, that’s my bathtub.”

“And a very comfortable one. Though your hospitality could use improvement.”

Silas set down his supplies.

“Who are you?”

“Clara Whitmore. Nurse. Twenty-nine years old. Unmarried, before you ask. And currently too tired to explain why your bathtub seemed like the finest bed in Colorado.”

“I wasn’t going to ask if you were married.”

“Good. Then we already understand each other.”

Silas rubbed his forehead.

Clara finally sat upright, revealing a badly torn sleeve and a bruise along her wrist.

His expression changed.

“What happened to you?”

Her smile faded.

“I was hired to work at the Black Pine logging camp. My guide took my money, abandoned me on the mountain trail, and rode away with my horse.”

“Black Pine?” Silas asked sharply.

She nodded.

“There’s a fever spreading through the camp. They sent for a nurse.”

Silas looked toward the window, where fresh snow was already swallowing the trail.

“That camp is another twelve miles north. You wouldn’t have survived the night.”

“Well,” Clara said, pulling the quilt around her shoulders, “I survived long enough to meet the grumpiest man in the Rockies.”

Despite himself, Silas almost smiled.

He turned toward the stove.

“I’ll heat some water. But you’re getting out of that tub.”

“After the water arrives.”

“You’re a stubborn woman.”

“And you’re a slow host.”

Twenty minutes later, Clara was warming her hands around a mug of coffee while Silas prepared a simple supper.

Then she noticed a small photograph on the mantel.

It showed Silas standing beside a smiling young woman in a white dress.

“Your wife?” Clara asked gently.

Silas went still.

“Was.”

Clara lowered her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

He said nothing.

Outside, a horse suddenly whinnied.

Silas moved to the window.

Three riders were approaching through the snow.

Clara’s coffee cup slipped from her hands.

“That’s him,” she whispered.

“Who?”

“The guide who abandoned me.”

Silas reached for his coat.

But Clara grabbed his arm.

“Silas, there’s something I haven’t told you.”

He turned.

Her face had gone pale.

“The man didn’t abandon me because he wanted my money.”

Heavy footsteps sounded outside.

Clara swallowed.

“He abandoned me because I found out what really happened to the last nurse at Black Pine.”

Then someone pounded on the cabin door.

And a man’s voice called through the wood:

“Bennett! We know you’ve got the woman. Open up before you find out what happened to your wife!”