Rocky Mountain Proposal. Pamela Nissen

      Dabbing at her eyes, she stared at where Paul lay covered in a white sheet and simple blue coverlet—so still and so pale. The distinct metallic scent of blood hung in the air, mixing with the musky scent of perspiration that still beaded his forehead.

      Hope didn’t regret seeing him like this, but it wasn’t easy—growing up, she’d been sheltered from such things. Paul had suffered, of that she had no doubt. She couldn’t imagine how he’d survived more than a few minutes, let alone three hours.

      But the serene look that lingered on his face had taken her by surprise. Even in the midst of staggering pain, he’d found peace. As strong as Paul’s faith was, she was sure he’d been ready to meet his Maker and had probably accepted his impending death.

      Hope just didn’t know if she accepted it.

      For months now, she’d longed for the moment their lives would be joined in marriage. She couldn’t understand how God could connect her life with Paul’s and then rip him away before she’d ever known the comfort of his embrace.

      She’d left all she’d known to join him here in Boulder. With not a single penny to her name, she had no way of returning to Boston. Aaron and his doctor brother were the only souls she knew in this rough-and-tumble land.

      And all she could think about right now was the next few minutes and how she would try to hold herself together in front of them.

      Standing, she wrapped poise around her like some warm and comforting quilt, hoping that she had what it would take to walk through this alone. She crossed to the heavy oak paneled door and opened it, willing her wobbly legs not to give out on her as she left the room. She resisted the urge to hug her arms to her chest as her mother had always cautioned her, saying that it appeared weak and unladylike.

      Well, if ever there was a time where Hope felt weak, it was now. But being alone, she couldn’t afford to be weak.

      She couldn’t afford anything—not even a bowl of soup for her next meal.

      The irony of her situation stared her in the face like some fierce predator from the surrounding mountains. She drew her arms to her sides and met the three men’s watchful gazes.

      “I’m sorry. We did everything we could to keep him alive.” Ben’s voice was low, tight. “He wanted to hang on long enough to talk with you. But I couldn’t—”

      “I wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer any more than he did.” She unfurled her fisted hands, trying to ignore her need for a little consolation. “He must have been in terrible pain.”

      The studying glance Aaron cast her way left her feeling as if he’d tried to take a peek inside her soul.

      She touched her delicate lace-trimmed neckline, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

      “I’m sorry about this, ma’am.” The other brother offered her his hand, and she shook it. “Name’s Zach, by the way.”

      She struggled to stay collected at his caring demeanor. “Thank you, Zach.”

      “This has to be a shock,” he added.

      Nodding, she pulled her mouth tight against the cry that begged for escape. “I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do now.”

      “We’ll take care of funeral arrangements and Paul’s body.” Aaron swiped a hand over his forehead, glancing over her shoulder to the bedroom. “Don’t worry about that, all right?”

      She nodded. “I’m grateful.”

      Ben stepped a little closer, his expression crimped with compassion. “Paul really cared for you, ma’am. He wanted to make sure you were well cared for.”

      She glanced up at him, confused. Well cared for? Though she didn’t, for a moment, doubt Paul’s desire to take care of her, he couldn’t very well do that from the grave. “I don’t understand.”

      On a loud exhale, Ben pulled a hand over his dirt-smudged face. “When Sheriff Goodwin was out here, Paul made arrangements for you to have this farmstead,” he said, gesturing out the windows where fields stretched wide and big fat cows mulled about in the corral. “And also for his bank account in town to be transferred to your name, ma’am.”

      Hope swallowed hard, turning her wide-eyed gaze from the windows, where the early evening sun poured through the glass panes, to stare at Ben. Had Paul truly thrown her such an enormous lifeline?

      “The farm belongs to you,” Ben measured out as if realizing her shock. “As well as all of Paul’s money.”

      She glanced at Zach, who gave her a gentle smile and slight nod as if to verify his brother’s words. But when she slid her attention to Aaron, she almost startled at the fear that contorted his face.

      “Are you feeling all right?” she asked before she could stop herself.

      “I’m fine.” He dodged her gaze, the muscles at his strong jaw line pulsating.

      Ben dipped his head down as if to grab her attention. “I don’t know what the amount is in his account, but knowing Paul, I’m fairly certain there’s at least enough there for you to live comfortably for many years to come.”

      She shook her head in disbelief. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

      “You don’t need to say a thing,” Zach responded.

      “But we hadn’t even married yet.” She fingered the silk brocade fabric of her skirt, feeling uncomfortable and yet next to tears at Paul’s extreme generosity. “And what of his sister? I know that he has a sister living in the area, too, doesn’t he?”

      “Jane lives at the edge of Paul’s property in a small home of her own. She’s out of town until tomorrow morning—at least that’s what the sheriff said. He and Mrs. Duncan pretty much know everybody’s business in town,” Zach answered, a knowing grin tipping his mouth. “But I’m sure Jane will support Paul’s decision. She’s nice enough.”

      “Yeah, I don’t think you’ll have any problems there,” Aaron confirmed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

      “Paul was adamant about this, ma’am.” Ben motioned for them to move toward the front room where a fire had been lit in the hearth.

      She should feel glad for the warmth and comfort of the crackling flames licking around the logs, but for some reason nothing could take the chill from her soul. The farm…the bank account…Paul had known her circumstance and had seen to her future, without him. But could she start a new life alone?

      “He said that he wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of. That was all he could think about in those last minutes he was able to talk.” With a heavy sigh, Ben eased himself down into the wood rocking chair flanking the fireplace.

      Zach plopped unceremoniously down into the damask sofa and hooked one arm over the back of it, staring over his shoulder out the window. “This farm is one of the best around.”

      “Paul sure loved this land,” Aaron added as he motioned for her to sit down in a simply upholstered chair and then finally sat down next to Zach.

      “It’s lovely. Really it is.” She glanced around the spacious home then outside to the fields. She didn’t even know what to compare this farm to. Apart from the flowering plants in the greenhouse her family kept, she’d never even been close enough to touch a crop. “But I must admit…I don’t know the first thing about farming.”

      The knowing glances Aaron exchanged with his brothers left Hope wishing she could hear their thoughts.

      “Mind you, I’m not completely unfamiliar with how things grow.” With a small amount of relief, she recalled how her family had employed both a gardener and a stable hand full time. And the property wasn’t even close to this size. “I’m certain the farmhands will be an invaluable help with everything were I to have questions.”

      Ben