A gentle breeze was blowing outside, and the open window caused the wind to rustle her curtains.

Three weeks had passed since consumption had claimed Catherine, her only sibling and closest companion. Their parents had departed years earlier, leaving the sisters to rely solely upon each other. Now, at twenty-six, Adelaide was utterly alone in their modest townhouse in Bloomsbury.

Cottonwood Springs Nebraska Territory 1863 The stagecoach rattled to a stop, sending plumes of dust into the parched air of Cottonwood Springs. Lillian McAllister clutched her valise in one hand and steadied her bonnet with the other as she stepped down onto the wooden platform. The town stretched before her, a single dusty street lined with weathered buildings that had seen better days, much like the weary faces that turned to appraise her.   "Schoolteacher?" the stagecoach

But Eilis saw the flash of fear in her mother’s eyes when the baby turned its golden gaze toward her. That evening, when this unusual creature refused to nurse and remained silent even as her mother sobbed over it, Eilis watched her father place protective herbs above the doorframes.

Her mind wandered to the meaning of the larkspur, a flower embodying joy and an open heart...

With curiosity, she lifted the bouquet. The scent of lavender transported her instantly back fifteen years to summers at her grandmother’s cottage in Provo Canyon, to herb gardens and flower presses, and to Matt.