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"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication."

— Leonardo da Vinci

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The girl’s voice was barely louder than the wind. “I’m too young to be a wife.” She stood in the doorway of the barn, trembling, her hands clutching the torn edge of a faded shawl. Dust swirled through the evening air as the tall cowboy in front of her slowly lowered the bucket he had been carrying. Ethan Cole had spent most of his life alone on the far edge of Texas territory, where the prairie stretched farther than most men were willing to ride. – Part 5

Is it? Flynn interrupted. Let’s examine that claim. The bride is 13 years old. The groom is 52. The bride’s father sold her to settle…

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The girl’s voice was barely louder than the wind. “I’m too young to be a wife.” She stood in the doorway of the barn, trembling, her hands clutching the torn edge of a faded shawl. Dust swirled through the evening air as the tall cowboy in front of her slowly lowered the bucket he had been carrying. Ethan Cole had spent most of his life alone on the far edge of Texas territory, where the prairie stretched farther than most men were willing to ride.

The 13-year-old girl’s whisper cut through the darkness like a knife. I’m too young to be a wife. Those seven words would force a widowed…

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The girl’s voice was barely louder than the wind. “I’m too young to be a wife.” She stood in the doorway of the barn, trembling, her hands clutching the torn edge of a faded shawl. Dust swirled through the evening air as the tall cowboy in front of her slowly lowered the bucket he had been carrying. Ethan Cole had spent most of his life alone on the far edge of Texas territory, where the prairie stretched farther than most men were willing to ride. – Part 2

This child, terrified and alone, offering to sacrifice herself to protect a stranger. That kind of courage deserved to be answered with courage, not calculation….

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The girl’s voice was barely louder than the wind. “I’m too young to be a wife.” She stood in the doorway of the barn, trembling, her hands clutching the torn edge of a faded shawl. Dust swirled through the evening air as the tall cowboy in front of her slowly lowered the bucket he had been carrying. Ethan Cole had spent most of his life alone on the far edge of Texas territory, where the prairie stretched farther than most men were willing to ride. – Part 3

Do you remember any of the songs? some mostly just the feeling of them like like being wrapped in something warm and safe. Her voice…

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The scissors snapped one last time. A lock of dark hair fell to the dusty floor. Rachel didn’t cry. She didn’t scream either. She simply stood there, shoulders trembling, as the women behind her finished their cruel work. Her sister-in-law stepped back, wiping her hands like she had just finished scrubbing dirt from a floor. “Well,” she said coldly, “now she finally looks like what she is.” Another woman laughed. “Widow trash.” Rachel stared at the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. The woman looking back at her barely looked human anymore.

You’re coming with me,” said the rancher when her in-laws cut her hair and blackened her face. The first scream cracked through the still air…

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The scissors snapped one last time. A lock of dark hair fell to the dusty floor. Rachel didn’t cry. She didn’t scream either. She simply stood there, shoulders trembling, as the women behind her finished their cruel work. Her sister-in-law stepped back, wiping her hands like she had just finished scrubbing dirt from a floor. “Well,” she said coldly, “now she finally looks like what she is.” Another woman laughed. “Widow trash.” Rachel stared at the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. The woman looking back at her barely looked human anymore. – Part 2

Behind them came a wagon, its canvas flaps pulled back to reveal the stiff figure of the woman who had cut Clara’s hair. Even from…

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