That was all Noah Bennett had left before the bank took his Montana ranch.

Twenty-eight days.

That was all Noah Bennett had left before the bank took his Montana ranch.

And the woman he had married was the last person he expected to save it.

When Clara arrived at Silver Creek Ranch, Noah barely looked at her.

He studied her plain dress, soft hands, and small traveling trunk.

“This isn't a hotel,” he said.

Clara swallowed.

“I know.”

“You'll have your room. Stay out of the business.”

She nodded.

Noah turned away.

He had married Clara because her uncle promised to provide enough money to keep Silver Creek alive.

But the money never came.

Now the bank wanted everything.

The cattle.

The land.

The house.

And Noah blamed Clara for all of it.

“You were supposed to bring the money,” he snapped one evening.

Clara lowered her eyes.

“I was never promised money.”

“You knew what this marriage was.”

“Yes.”

“And yet you came anyway.”

Clara looked at him.

“I came because you needed someone.”

Noah laughed bitterly.

“I need a miracle.”

He didn't know one had already arrived.

Three days later, the ranch's main cook quit.

Then the second cook left.

Twenty hired hands were expected back from a brutal cattle drive by sundown.

There was no food.

Noah's foreman, Frank Dawson, shook his head.

“They'll leave if we can't feed them.”

Noah slammed his fist against the table.

“Then I'll figure something out.”

Clara quietly entered the kitchen.

“I can cook.”

Noah stared at her.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“For twenty men?”