Seven days after Clara Whitmore married Elias Redbird, a letter arrived from Washington.

It came in a cream-colored envelope with a red government seal pressed into the wax, delivered by a tired postal rider who had crossed nearly forty miles through dust and heat to reach the little settlement of Bell Creek.

Clara was standing outside the small wooden house she and Elias had rented at the edge of town when the rider approached.

“Mrs. Redbird?”

She turned.

“Yes?”

The rider held out the envelope.

“This came on the morning stage. Marked urgent.”

Clara stared at the seal.

Her first thought was that something had happened to her father.

Her second was that someone had discovered the marriage.

Her third was that perhaps the two were somehow connected.

She accepted the letter.

“Thank you.”

The rider tipped his hat and left.

Clara watched him disappear down the road before closing the door.

Elias was sitting at the table, repairing the leather strap on his saddle.

He looked up when she entered.

“Bad news?”

“I don't know.”

She placed the envelope between them.

His eyes settled on the seal.

Neither spoke for several seconds.

Finally Elias said, “Open it.”

Clara broke the seal.

She read the first line.

Then the second.

By the time she reached the middle of the page, the color had disappeared from her face.

Elias stood.

“What does it say?”

Clara looked at him.

“The railroad company has received federal authorization to resume construction.”

Elias became completely still.

“Where?”

Clara looked back at the letter.

“Through Bell Creek.”

His expression changed.

“That isn't possible.”

“That is what it says.”

He came around the table.

Clara handed him the letter.

Elias read it slowly.

The company had acquired the rights to an abandoned survey from a bankrupt contractor. The original route had been suspended months earlier after questions arose concerning land ownership.

Now everything had changed.

A new company had purchased the project.

New investors.

New lawyers.

New political support.

And, according to the letter, construction would begin within ninety days.

Elias folded the paper.

“They are coming back.”

Clara nodded.

“They never really left.”

He looked toward the window.

Beyond the glass, Bell Creek stretched beneath the morning sun.

The town looked peaceful.

Children ran between the buildings.

A blacksmith worked outside his shop.

Two ranchers argued beside a water trough.

A train whistle sounded faintly in the distance.

Nobody seemed to know that the future of the entire settlement had just changed.

Clara reached across the table.

“What do we do?”

Elias looked at her.