Twenty-year-old, Grace Marshall waited as her husband helped the liveryman unload the wagon. It didn’t take long to pile the trunks, the bed frame, and the stove in the middle of the yard, and then the liveryman tipped his hat back and scratched his forehead and studied the house. “I ’spect it looks better inside than it does out.”

His dubious tone did nothing to relieve the sinking sensation in Grace’s insides at the enormity of what they faced.

Billy, never one to admit a difficulty, handed the man a fistful of coins. “We’ll have it right soon enough, you’ll see.”

“Don’t know.” The other man shook his head. “No one has lived here since the Martin family moved out. What was left of them. Poor folk. Flu pretty well wiped them out. ’Course they weren’t the only ones around here to be struck hard.” He wagged his head sadly. “We were hit hard by the flu. Over three thousand Albertans died of it. On top of Canada losing more than sixty thousand in the war. It was bad.”

“War,” Billy said in his matter of fact way, “is hard on everyone. I heard over eight million people died in the war and two, three, perhaps even four times as many in the Spanish flu that struck around the world.”

“Say, didn’t I hear you’re a veteran?”

Billy smiled. “I flew in the war.”

“Ya don’t say! Shoot down many of them Huns?”

“Thirteen planes and two zeppelin.” Billy’s chest expanded until Grace wondered how his buttons stood it. Not that she minded. She was proud as could be of her war hero.

The man shoved his hand toward Billy. “We need more young people like yourselves.” He pumped Billy’s arm. “If you folks be needing anything, you just give old Len at the livery barn a holler. I’ll be right glad to help you out.” He studied the pile of belongings. “Don’t look like much for starting a new life.”

Billy laughed. “We don’t need much.”

Grace studied the stack. It had seemed so much when Billy organized its delivery to the train. Now it looked pitifully inadequate. She resolutely turned to watch her husband as he spoke to Len. Billy never failed to see the possibility in a situation—a chance for adventure. Not for the first time, she wished she could so readily view the future. But she dismissed her anxieties. As long as she had Billy, she’d be just fine. “I’m sure we’ll manage,” she assured the wagon driver, fearing his face would crumple in with worry. “But thank you for your kind offer. We’ll keep it in mind. Won’t we, Billy?”

“Certainly. It’s most kind of you.” But already he had turned toward the house, his eyes running up and down its length, seeing, no doubt, the possibilities, whereas she viewed it with the same sensation she’d have if she swallowed a stone.

“Well, I’ll be on my way then.” Old Len clambered onto the wagon. “All the best to you folk.”

Billy barely let the wagon begin to rumble away before he took Grace’s hand. “Well, here we are. What do you think of it?”

Warmth raced across their joined hands, driving away the doubts. Grace laughed at her worries. “To be quite honest, I’m surprised the place is still standing. Are you sure it’s liveable?” She said it jokingly, although her heart quivered inside her chest. This dubious house was all the protection she could look forward to.

“The man who rented it to me said it would take some work. That’s why he gave it to us so cheap. But he assured me it was nothing major.” He grinned at Grace. “How bad can it be?”

She drank in the confidence in his dark eyes, letting it drive deep into her soul and soothe her. She gave a quick grin as she thought of how her sister would react if she knew Grace was moving into a rundown house, miles from the nearest city, in the wilds of western Alberta. “If only Irene could see me now.”

His grin tipped up on one side. “She’d be surprised at how adventuresome you’ve become.”

“I should say she would. So would Father. To think they didn’t think I could even manage to cross the ocean by myself.”

A frown flitted across his face. “It still rankles that they didn’t trust me to take proper care of you.”

“I’ve told you before not to take it personally. They’ve always coddled me. I think Father would have refused to let us marry if he’d known we weren’t staying in Toronto.”

“You won’t be needing any more coddling.” Without giving her a chance to reply, he pulled her toward the house. “Let’s have a look at what we have.”

She ignored a shiver of apprehension as they picked their way across the yard over scattered shingles, bits of wood, and a pile of ashes that seemed to have been flung from the doorstep. Billy lifted the padlock, and it fell away in his hand. “Guess I won’t need this.” He pocketed the key and flung open the door. “Behold your new home.”

Grace gasped. “It’s a ruin.”