Jessica Starbuck breathed in the cool, fresh Utah air and gazed ahead at the sun-dappled hills and deep-carved canyons through which she and her companion rode. It was a beautiful sight, but Jessie could not enjoy it; she was troubled. The news she had received back in Provo threatened to destroy the cherished memory of her father and alter her plans for finding his murderers. Even the sun that hung bright and brassy in the high-vaulted blue sky shone cold on her this day. The frigid breeze pierced her cambric blouse, raising goose-flesh on her skin. She pulled the cotton vest more tightly around her breast. On her long legs she wore a pair of blue denim pants that clung tightly to her. She was most comfortable in simple clothes like these, rather than in swirling skirts and fancy ball dresses. And, she reflected, she always had been—another legacy from her father. Jessie Starbuck was a stunning combination of her parents: a beautiful, independent woman and a powerful, handsome man of the world.
