They rode for hours through the mountains, always climbing, with only the blowing of the horses and the creak of leather to break the silence. Caroline was awed by the wild beauty and epic grandeur of the country through which they rode. They stopped when they reached Misty Moon Lake, and her breath caught with the beauty of it, still, serene, surrounded by the high points of Cloud Peak and Bomber Mountain. They pushed on across another pass until they came to Solitude, and there they made camp. Jay got a fire going and Joe broiled them all a steak. “How do you like it?” the big rancher asked Caroline as they all sat comfortably around the fire. She smiled a little. “There aren’t words.” She clasped her arms around her knees. “America is amazing. You travel to all these great places in Europe—the Alps, the Riviera—and then you come back here and we’ve got it all.” She looked up at the night sky. “More,” she added softly. “If only we have the sense to keep what we have,”
