In the Porter home, Elizabetta, now Elise, fought to maintain control of her emotions. Children were crying and complaining almost nonstop these days, or so it felt. Elise took a deep breath and gripped the side of the table.

“Anthony and Samuel, kindly stop banging on the table. Your breakfast will be ready very soon. Angelina and Laura, would you please help me?”

Her husband, John, was in the barn, milking their three cows and tending to the chickens they'd purchased recently. He was still the foreman of Triple Range, but he'd insisted on having some of his own animals. Ordinarily, that was fine, but today, Elise was left to deal with the children on her own, and she thought she might cry. The pain her head was almost unbearable.

“I—I'm sorry. I have to go outside. Angelina, please...take over.”

She motioned to the frying pan that contained several pancakes now in danger of burning.

Her oldest daughter rushed to the stove and rescued the pancakes just before they became inedible. Elise fled from the chaos and sought solace at the back of the house where her garden was just beginning to show the promise of new life. She sank down on the bench that John had built for her to sit on and enjoy the view, but now she saw nothing. Her eyes blurred with tears and she buried her face in her apron.

“Oh, dear Jesus. Please, take away this pain, just enough to let me get on with my day. I can bear some discomfort, but this is too much.”

Crying intensified the pain, so she forced herself to stop and take some deep breaths. Tilting her head towards the house, Elise expected to hear her children complaining, but there was only silence. Part of her wanted to rise and investigate, but she felt a gentle presence telling her to remain where she was.

“Thank you, Lord, for this rest.”

After ten minutes, she felt well enough to return to the house. Although the children were fed, dishes and food were everywhere. Angelina was doing her best to clean, but the other three, all under the age of eight, were nowhere to be found.

“Where are the others?” Elise asked her daughter.

“Oh! Mama, are you feeling better?”

Elise walked over to where the girl stood at the sink scrubbing the frying pan with cold water.

“Yes, cara. Thank you so much for your help. You may leave the cleaning for me. Go get dressed for school now.” She stroked her daughter's sweet face and thanked God for the gift he'd given her in this beautiful girl who was almost nine years old. Her family was so precious to her, especially since she had none besides them on this side of the world.

After the children were gone to school, she finished cleaning and then lay down with a cold cloth across her forehead. She'd only planned to lie down for a moment, but when a clatter at the back door woke her, she was dismayed to see that several hours had passed.

“Elise?” John asked, worry etched across his forehead. “Are you sick again, darling?”

His long legs carried him across the house in five strides, and he knelt beside her, touching her forehead.

“I think we should talk about going to the doctor again. You need to find out what's wrong.”

She shook her head slightly. Anything more would bring on nausea. “It's nothing, dear man. If I rest, I feel better. I'm so sorry, but there is nothing for your lunch.” The realization brought more tears to her eyes.

“I can easily cut some bread and slap butter on it. That with some beef jerky will do me just fine.”

The thought of such a poor lunch brought on more tears, which sapped her strength to the point she couldn't even get up. “I'm such a bad wife.”

“Don't ever say that,” he whispered fiercely. “You are the greatest love of my life and the best gift God gave me...aside from Jesus, of course.”

It was a little joke between them, and Elise smiled faintly. “I was going to make roast chicken sandwiches for you, but the meat is still raw.”

He took her hand in his and kissed it. “I will find something for myself. Please rest some more. When Angelina comes home from school, she can prepare the chicken for dinner.”

Just as she was about to protest, they heard the unmistakably sound of a wagon's wheels outside their window.

“Wonder who that is,” John muttered, rising from the floor. Elise watched as his brow furrowed again, this time in confusion. He looked from the window to his wife and back again. “Elisa...have you heard from your family lately?”

“No, not for over two months,” she replied softly. “Why? What is it?”

A smile began to pull the corners of his mouth. “I don't know for certain, but I think that we are in for a big surprise. Come.” Gently, he pulled her up from the sofa and tucked her arm in his to steady her as they walked to front door. When he pulled it open, there stood a woman who looked very much like his wife. Elise's eyes filled with tears and she pressed a hand to her mouth. The tears spilled over her fingers and she shook her head in disbelief.

“Elizabetta!” the woman cried out in Italian. “Oh, my dear sister. I’m here!”

Rosa couldn't believe how poorly her sister looked. She was pencil thin and her hair was a mess. Running up the two steps, she pulled her sister into a tight embrace.

“Oh, sister. You should have said. I would have come much sooner. How long have you been ill?”

Tears ran down her own face as she pulled back to look at her sister again.

“I better now, dear Rosalina. However are you here? Oh, I don't even care. Come into the house.”

The whole exchange had been in Italian, but Rosa quickly switched to English when she saw a tall man standing nearby.

“You are John!” she declared. “What a wonderful man you are.”

He chuckled. “Well, I guess I know how to make a good first impression. If only everyone thought that way about me.”

Rosa laughed, enjoying the humor of this man who had become dear to her through her sister's letters.

“Of course Elizabetta has told me about you, and she always tells the truth, so it must be so. Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

A shadow passed over his handsome face. “Well, I don't know if I've been doing such a good job lately.” He looked over her shoulder at the retreating wagon. “Who brought you here?”

“I hired a man in town,” she replied. “He was happy to do so.”

John grinned a little. “I bet. It's not every day a man gets to see such a beautiful woman. Please come in while I get your bags.”

“Ah, he's a charmer,” she whispered to her sister in Italian as they walked through the house. “I'm not sure how he stayed single so long.”

Her initial shock of her sister's appearance had faded, and she now did her best to cheer her up.

“There's a story there of course,” Elise replied. “But now, we must speak in English. You need to practice and it would be rude otherwise.”

Rosa pretended to be offended. “I have had the best English teacher for many years. I can speak very well.” Elise had insisted that she learn English when she was young and had spent many hours teaching it to all her younger siblings.

Rosa was gratified to see her sister laugh, even though it was behind tired eyes. “Yes, of course you did. Now, tell me all the news from home. How is everyone?”

As she guided her sister to a chair, Rosa felt the air leave her lungs. “You did not receive my letter?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay casual. “The one explaining my plans?”

“No. I haven't had a letter from Italy for months.” Concern rose in her eyes. “Someone is sick?” But then understanding must have dawned. Everyone knew that Rosa had been caring for their father. “Oh no. When did it happen?”

Rosa took her sister's hand and squeezed it. “Just six weeks ago. He was so sick, you know. It was a blessing when God took him home.”

Fresh tears spilled out over each of their cheeks and that was the scene John walked in on.

“I put the bags in the girls' room since...” He stopped when he saw their tears. “Hey, what's going on? Elise?”

“Oh, John. My papa, he has gone to heaven to be with Mama. I just found out.”

He took the seat on the other side and put his arm around her. “I'm so sorry to hear that,” he murmured. “So sorry.”

They sat like that for several minutes before John rose to put on the kettle. Rosa watched him move about the kitchen making tea as though he'd done it a thousand times before.

“Tell me,” Elise requested softly. “I want to know everything.”

“Yes, dear sister. I will.”

Jacob woke the next morning with a deep pain in his heart as he remembered that his dreams had been crushed. As much as he wanted to wallow in pity, he knew that was no way to live. He would persevere in making Triple Range the best ranch in the area.

However, shortly after breakfast, he had visitors who changed his mind once again. Alex and Cole had heard about his plan from Luke, and they wanted to discuss it with him.

“There's enough land for all three of us to have a home,” Cole explained. “And nothing is set in stone yet. Tell us more about your plans for horses.”

They listened as he explained what he'd been planning to do, and they both seemed interested.

“Do you have any research? Any kind of concrete assurances that the Army will take the horses?” Alex wondered.

He was prepared. “There was an advertisement posted a few months ago saying that the Army would pay top dollar for any Thoroughbred. I wanted to be a supplier.”

“But won't it take a long time to turn a profit?” Again, it was Alex asking the hard questions, but Jacob didn't mind. He had done his research and now showed them what he'd learned.

“Thoroughbreds mature early. We can start training them at eighteen months and sell them by age two.”

After more discussion, the two young men were enthusiastic. “Let's go into town tomorrow and see Martin Graham. He has the best contact regarding horses,” Jacob suggested. “Then you can take your time and decide.”

Hope tentatively renewed, Jacob spent the rest of the day smiling as he worked alongside his brother checking the cattle. His dreams might not be dead after all.