March 2nd, 1881

The clamor started at ten o’clock when all the men were in their bunks. Piercing the chill night air and hanging in the wind like tattered shrouds on the trees, the screams of twelve-year-old Lady Alexandra Calthorpe were frenzied, wild and uncontrolled.

“Jesse!” Alex cried, hoping her best friend among the punchers might hear. “Jesse!”

“Alexandra, please, please,” begged her governess, Madame Helene. She tried to control her own emotions so as to comfort her charge while doing what must be done. “We must go. You’ve always known we must go!”

“Tom!” Alex screamed for the ranch foreman who had been almost a surrogate father. “Jesse!” she tried once more.

“Alex!” Her uncle’s voice was more harsh than he intended, but Oliver Calthorpe had little say in the demands of his brother Frederic, Duke of Faringdon—Lady Alex must now be returned to England.

“Cal!” Alex cried, hoping her other friend might be there. “Jesse!”

The two cowboys rose from their bunks and came out half-dressed, guns in their hands, to find Tom Yost, their foreman, standing by the office ready to stop them.

“What the hell,” said Jesse. “What’s going on?”

“She’s leaving,” answered Tom. “They’re taking Alex for the midnight train to New York. There’s nothing you can do.” His voice was flat and cold, but his heart was breaking. He thought back on the four years Lady Alex had spent at the ranch, the four years he had watched her grow and blossom from a shy young girl hardly able to talk with the punchers to someone who embraced life on the ranch, lived it to the fullest.

“What’re you talkin’ about? She didn’t even say good-bye. She can’t be leavin’,” said Cal, already feeling her loss.

“Calthorpe thought it would be far less painful for her to just go. If she knew in advance, she might have tried to run away.”

Jesse took a step to go past Tom but the older man held him back. “It’s best this way, Jess. She would have been hysterical for days if she’d had to say good-byes.”

“And she’s not now?” Anger heated Jesse as he shrugged off Tom’s hand. They stood some moments listening to the screams as more of the men came out. “Hell, Tom. How could you? How could Madame?”

“I discussed it with Madame. She was in tears too but felt there was no other choice.” Tom’s voice was so raw Jesse looked at him long and hard only to realize they all felt the same pain.

“Does Annie know?”

“No. I’ll have to tell her.”

“I can’t stand this.” Cal started to push past Tom. But the carriage was gone now and there on the steps to the great house was only the faithful maid, Rose, standing there sobbing, left to console.