High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) by Lynnette Bonner

they thought they could scare her off her land, they had a few things to learn about Dominique Noel Vasquez Trent! She’d go about business as usual.
    Today, after feeding the chickens, she would continue her work on the huge pile of wood John had heaped by the bunkhouse. He had hauled in plenty of wood before his passing, but none of it had been cut up. It all lay in a mangled mess by the bunkhouse. Long pieces crossed with logs that had protruding branches, making it almost impossible to separate them from one another for chopping. But she had discussed things with Ron and Conner, and it had been decided that they and the two men William had sent over were needed out in the fields where the cattle were. Making sure no animals were bogged down in the unusually heavy snow, checking fall calves for frost bite, and keeping the fences free of drifts that would allow the cattle to cross them were all jobs that had to be seen to. So the job of wood chopper fell to Nicki. Ron had insisted that he could do the job by the light of a lantern at night but Nicki had nothing else pressing to do and felt that she should carry her share of the weight in this new endeavor. After this morning, she was more determined than ever.
    Back in the shanty, after throwing the offensive dummy in the fire, she dressed in a pair of John’s pants, cinched at the waist with his old belt. She’d punched an extra hole in it. A shirt she’d bought, which had turned out to be too small for John, and her own riding boots completed her ensemble. Pulling her thick, black curls back and tying them high on her head with a string so they would be out of her way, she glanced down at herself. She looked baggy and rumpled but didn’t care. No one would see her dressed this way except for Tilly, who came every day to watch Sawyer, and of course Sawyer, but he loved his mama no matter how she was dressed. By the time Ron and Conner returned from the range she’d be properly dressed and fixing dinner.
    She checked the fire. The dummy was nothing but a heap of ashes. Good. No one needed to know about this morning’s incident.
    Tilly arrived minutes later with a basket of freshly baked cinnamon rolls her mother had sent. Nicki thanked her but insisted she wouldn’t be able to keep one down. “But they smell delicious.”
    “Have you not been feeling well?” asked Tilly.
    Nicki waved a hand of unconcern. “ No, es nada grave . It is nothing serious. I just caught a flu bug of some sort. I haven’t been feeling well for the past couple of weeks, but I’ll be fine pretty soon.”
    “All right. Don’t work too hard out there.” Tilly waved her out the door with a smile and moved to wake the still-sleeping toddler.

    Jason bought a horse in Prineville, bid his brother-in-law good-bye, and headed for Farewell Bend and the Hanging T. He pulled the collar of his coat up around his ears to ward off the chill wind that swept across the snow-covered knolls. Low hills mounded up in the distance and, beyond them, he could see the vivid purple-shadowed peaks of the Cascade Range against the clear blue backdrop of the sky. Scraggly snow-covered juniper grew along the road, but other than their branches waving in the wind, nothing moved in the vast landscape except his horse.
    Even the main street of Farewell Bend was deserted. Everyone is probably sitting by cozy fires wrapped in quilts with their feet propped on the hearth , he thought irritably as his breath puffed out in a cloud before him. He was still unconvinced that he had made the right decision.
    Tinny music floated across the coldness from the depths of the Main Street Saloon and Jason swallowed against the sudden urge to have a drink. Lord, You’ve helped me this far. Don’t let me fall back now. Thank You for delivering me from that lifestyle. Help me to be a witness for You in this new place You have brought me to . He turned, instead, toward the mercantile.
    A curtain fluttered in an upstairs window as he