Antoine’s plan wouldn’t end well. It would take a miracle for him to survive such a suicidal mission. She drove straight through the day and night, stopping when she could for fuel, but not to eat or sleep. Her tears had dried somewhere in Texas. She stopped and bought a new dress—a respectable dress—at a store in Dallas. And just outside of Boulder, Colorado, she stopped to comb her hair and pinch her cheeks. A new home waited for her. A new life. And she wasn’t going to arrive there looking like the maid she’d been for the past year. If she was lucky Antoine would meet her soon. If she wasn’t, she’d never see him again. Either way she’d survive. Just like always. She stopped the car outside of the McKenzie ranch and stared at the big iron M on the gate. There was land for as far as the eye could see—rolling hills dotted with cattle and horses. She couldn’t see the house from the road, but a large barn sat to the left and a small, ramshackle cabin sat to the right.
