Prologue
Baytown, Texas
This was becoming a ritual. A routine.
“It’s okay,” June cooed to Etta as she sat next to her on the floor of their room. She hated that this was always happening to young Etta Fletcher; that she continued to be struck and bullied by the older girls in the house. The truth was, it wasn’t okay—but then again, neither was being an orphan.
And yet, there they were, at an orphanage, surrounded by the rest of the scoundrel throwaways of the Wild West during the war.
June grimaced as she held Etta’s chin steady between her forefinger and thumb to finish soothing the girl’s busted lip.
Blood dripped from the small scratch under Etta’s eye.
Her dirty blonde hair clung to her sweat-soaked forehead, and her dirty cheeks were flushed with pain.
It looked like they’d done a number on her; boxed her good. And for what?
“We’ll get you good as new.” June gently dabbed the cloth up Etta’s face, pursing her lips as she saw the tears in the younger girl’s eyes.
Etta winced but didn’t cry. June was proud of that. It was something she had told her time and time again. Never let them see you cry.
Still, June Thatcher was tired of seeing her best friend bullied and harassed day in and day out—likely just as tired of it as Etta was tired of being bullied. Those degenerates had nothing better to do than to make her life even more miserable than it already was.
“They’re just jealous,” Ada remarked as she perched over the side of the cot. Her dark curls were matted with sweat, her cheeks red and chapped from being out in the sun all day.
June sighed. Ada Birch was not the encouraging type. She was as fierce as a leather whip—until it came to her friends, and that was something June could understand all too well.
“You have something they don’t, Etta,” Ada argued, her voice sharp.
Etta gave a snort that was muffled by the cloth June was pressing to her face. “Yeah, like a target on my back?” she asked.
June shook her head. “They hate what they can’t break,” she replied. “You’re stronger than them. They know it.”
“If I’m so strong, then why do I keep getting hurt?”
June looked at Ada and then Etta. She didn’t have an answer—not to that question. But she did have an answer to the issue, to all their issues.
“Supper is being fed to the dogs!” a shrill voice screamed out, causing all three girls to jump. “If you haven’t eaten—tough!”
“Darn it!” Ada exclaimed. “I haven’t eaten all day!”
“She isn’t giving anything to the dogs. She’ll surely eat it all herself!” Etta gasped, almost angrily, as June finished cleaning her bloodied lip.
June shook her head. There had to be a change. They couldn’t keep living in this place. The bullying wasn’t even the worst of it. The worst of it came from the worst woman in the continental states: Madam Pilser.
And as far as June was concerned, her mind was made up. It’s time. She wasn’t quite sure why today was any different than any other day Etta had been bullied; but something was urging her this time. It’s now or never. “We’re not staying here,” she said abruptly.
She spoke with such certainty that Ada’s head snapped up in surprise. “You’re serious this time, aren’t you?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
June looked back at her firmly. “Dead serious. We’ve talked about it for years, but it’s time. Tonight, we’re gone.”
She knew Ada, and Ada knew her. There was no use arguing. Once her mind was made up, it was made up.
Etta’s eyes widened as she pulled away from June’s touch. “Gone where?” she asked, looking between her two friends.
“To the city,” June said determinedly. “We’ll catch the wagon train. It’ll be loud and busy enough to hide us, and once we get to where we’re going, we’ll find jobs. Start fresh, where no one knows us.”
Ada tilted her head, observing June skeptically. June carefully avoided her gaze, eyes darting across the room. Think fast. She tucked a strand of wavy brown hair behind her ear as it fell loose from her braid.
Ada would be the most critical of all of them—so June had to have a bulletproof plan. Fortunately, she knew Ada well. And clearly, Ada was also intrigued. She had to be. “Jobs doing what, exactly?” Ada asked, her brow raised.
“Anything,” June said quietly as she shrugged. “Cooking, cleaning, sewing…whatever gets us a roof over our heads.”
Etta frowned. “I can’t sew to save my life.”
“Then don’t sew,” Ada snorted. “You can be a singer. Lord knows you do it enough when you’re scrubbing floors.”
A small, faint smile that June hadn’t seen in a long while pulled at Etta’s lips. “Maybe I will. What about you, Ada? What’s your big plan?”
Ada crossed her arms, leaning back against the wall.
A confident look spread across her face, like she’d been waiting a while for someone to ask her that very question.
“Oh, me?” she grinned, gesturing to herself, the dimple in her cheek appearing.
“I’m going to be rich. Own a shop. Something big and important. ”
June snorted softly. “Of course you’d say that.”
Ada always had big dreams. Likely it had to do with her parents owning an inn, before they were killed by bandits. But a dream like that seemed completely out of reach. A woman owning a shop was already difficult, but that woman being an orphan girl? No status? No connections?
“And you?” Etta asked June, tilting her sweet, bruised face to look at June beneath long lashes.
June hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the washcloth in her hand. “I just want us safe,” she said. “Somewhere quiet, where no one can tell us what to do.”
Ada rolled her eyes. “You’re so boring.”
The door to their room creaked, and the sharp voice of Madam Pilser barked from the hallway. “Lights out!”
June shot a warning glance at both the girls before jumping up to blow out the candle on the windowsill. The room was swallowed in darkness, save for the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the cracks in the shutters.
Taking a deep breath, June dropped to her cot, pulling the threadbare cover up to her chin. “Goodnight, Etta. Goodnight, Ada.”
“Goodnight, June,” the girls said in unison.
June stared at the ceiling, her mind racing.
What do I want?
She knew one thing for certain: her friends should be happy. Ada with her shop. Etta singing to a crowd of adoring faces.
And maybe… I could settle down, too.
Maybe one day, she might even be seen as more than just a caretaker.
Maybe… a partner. A friend. A lover.
Maybe—just maybe—there would be a man out there she could fall in love with and have children with.
A real family.
***
If June hadn’t been too busy worrying about her friends, she would’ve had to be honest with herself: the city had hit them like a train. Hard. Fast. It left them in nothing but pieces—in only three days.
It had been easy getting out of the orphanage.
Madam Pilser never paid much mind to anyone or anything except her own pockets and her own round belly.
Everything else was routine to her. Yelling for breakfast, yelling for lunch, yelling for supper.
Spanking the kids who sassed her. The other matrons were far too busy dealing with all the serious issues around the place to notice her ill treatment.
It wasn’t hard for June and her friends to just walk out the door and hop a train with some change June had picked up from what Madam Pilser’s sons left in the barn every Saturday evening after playing jacks.
She wasn’t sure why in the world she hadn’t tried leaving years ago. She’d saved plenty of money. Then again, she wasn’t sure she would have lasted one night in a big city like this if she’d left the orphanage any younger. Even now, she was only sixteen,.
After arriving in Galveston, they’d gotten a room at the inn in town for the first night, but she’d quickly realized that the spare change she’d collected wasn’t enough for a second night.
The last two nights, they’d slept outside the inn, near the horse troughs, hoping someone would take pity on them.
Several strange men had approached, but they sure hadn’t given the girls any kind of help.
June was beginning to realize that the world was just as bad as the orphanage.
June knew they couldn’t sleep outside again.
It was going to be too dangerous. People were starting to notice.
It wasn’t like the city she had imagined.
Galveston was dirty—and hateful. The streets were muddy from too many feet traipsing over them, and the grimy buildings stood gloomily on either side.
Men shouted over the din of rattling wagon wheels, and tired horses snorted impatiently as they stood against the posts outside of buildings.
No beautiful, lavish dresses scattered the streets.
There were beautiful dresses, but the girls hadn’t been allowed to go into the shops to look at them.
Shopkeepers took one look at them and began to scowl.
It was like they could tell the girls had no money.
June knew to steer clear of most of the shops after that. They stayed in the street.
But the city air was nothing like they had expected, either.
It wasn’t freeing. It wasn’t full of bakery smells or wood-warmed ovens.
it was thick with the smell of manure, sweat, and something fried that made June’s stomach churn with hunger—the kind of hunger that hurt.
They hadn’t eaten since their first day at the inn, and she felt starved, and dirty.
Her hair was greasy, clinging to her neck, only barely in its braid.
The three girls had been treated like nothing more than peasant vagrants.
No one in town cared if they lived or died.
The only ones to show any interest were dirty old men who definitely didn’t want to hire three young women for honest work.
And considering how hungry the three of them were, death seemed pretty likely.
June felt Etta tremble next to her and clutched her hand instinctively. Etta was only two years younger than her, but it sometimes felt like more. “We’ll figure it out,” June said, leaning in close to Etta’s ear.
Ada trailed behind, growling at anyone who came too close.
“We already figured it out, didn’t we?” she snapped, her voice hot with frustration.
“We were idiots to come here and hope someone would take us in for two nickels and a smile.” June stayed quiet, scanning the streets for another place that looked safe for the night.
They didn’t want to be forced out before they even got their bearings.
A worn sign for a “boarding house” dangled precariously from its chain, but the windows were cracked, and a drunken man was passed out on the stoop.
That wasn’t safe. June knew that for sure.
Etta sniffled, and June’s heart ached. Did I steer them wrong?
Had she jumped on this too soon, without a real plan in place?
She sighed and halted, leaning down slightly to meet Etta’s wide, tear-filled eyes. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. We’ll find something. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”
“But we don’t belong here,” Etta whispered, her lip quivering. “We should’ve stayed back at the orphanage.”
“We didn’t belong there, either,” Ada scoffed, but before she could say anything else, a deep. silky-smooth voice, warm as molasses, spoke up behind them.
“You girls look lost.” June turned quickly, instinctively pushing Etta behind her.
A man stood just a few feet behind Ada, tall and broad-shouldered.
His shirt was crisp and white, nothing like the grimy clothes of the city travelers.
In fact, all his clothes were clearly tailored, some of the nicest June had ever seen.
He looked rich—famous, maybe. His face was clean-shaven, his jaw strong, his eyes a disarming hazel that gleamed bewitchingly.
It was like he was staring right through her.
“Would you like some help?” he asked.
June eyed him carefully. He didn’t look like the other men they had passed. He wasn’t yelling or drunk or scowling. He smiled, but it wasn’t overly eager. Just… kind. Warm.
But June hesitated, her instincts warring with her longing for help. She’d learned enough by now to know not to trust anyone. Why did he want to help them?
“We’re fine,” Ada replied sharply, narrowing her eyes at him as she looked him up and down. Ada didn’t trust anyone, either.
But the man’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, a laugh escaped him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. Just figured you might need some help. It’s not easy for young women out here alone, and from the looks of it, you ladies have had a difficult journey.”
June and Ada exchanged cautious glances as he kept talking. “You ladies slept outside an inn last night, eh? Well, that was my inn, and if you ladies are looking for work, I got a few rooms that need cleaning. If you work for me, one of them is yours to share.”
“You’re offering us jobs?” Ada asked suspiciously.
“Sure am,” the man said, his grin widening as he held out his hand. “I’m Trey Bishop. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”