Prologue
August 6, 1875 – Idaho Territory
Frantic escape was her least favorite type of adventure. As a large rock jolted the stagecoach, Clara Early was sure her bottom would have flown out of the seat had there not been so many passengers crammed together to hold her there. She clenched her teeth and attempted to calm herself; her muscles were cramped and sore from being flexed so tightly.
Four of the other occupants on her bench were singing “Camptown Races” a little off-key together to pass the time and ease the journey. For Clara, it was hardly working.
After eleven days of bone-jarring, restless travel in a stagecoach she could hardly bear a moment more. Day and night she journeyed, attempting to put as much distance between Oregon City and herself as she could. It was impossible to sleep during such a ride, yet she knew true exhaustion had set in around the fourth day when she had nodded off those blessed, oblivious hours. She had dreamt of her cousin Charlie and his mother, Mabel, sitting down with her after a long day’s work to a meal of soup and crusty bread. Clara had lived with them for such a large portion of her life that they were more like brother and mother than cousin and aunt. In fact, she and Charlie had never been separated this long before, and Clara was trying to be brave. Strange, how one black night could change lives so staggeringly…
