Jess Cooper sat hunched forward in his saddle, bracing himself against the cold as he rode towards the column of rising smoke that had piqued his curiosity since sunrise. His mule trailed behind, hauling a pallet of fur. He had been heading for the nearest trading post but had decided to take a detour when he spotted the smoke. Jess was a tall man with broad shoulders. His weathered, suntanned face made him look older than his 47 years. Jess shivered; the Wyoming winter had come early this year. He pulled the flaps of his beaver hat down over his ears to keep out the cold, but still, the icy wind penetrated his fringed buckskin pants. As he rode along, he reminisced about his youth when he and his brother left home in search of adventure. They had heard of the rugged and fearless breed known as mountain men. Soon they too were living off the land, trapping beaver, muskrat, fox, and otter, and then trading the pelts for goods at the yearly rendezvous gatherings. Together, they explored virgin territories, acted as guides for wagon trains going west, and scouted for the army. In the earlier years, it had been a wonderful life for Jess, but since the death of his brother, he has been lonely. He had attended all the rendezvous of mountain men every summer, but over time, their numbers had dwindled, and the last gathering had taken place in 1840. To make matters worse, the price of beaver pelts had fallen from six to eight dollars per pound to one dollar. Jess was weary of his solitary life. He hadn't seen another human in months. It was time to make a change and settle down. He figured he could build a cabin near a town or settlement to ease the transition from his rugged ways into a more civilized life. Jess kept the pillar of smoke in his sights as he rode towards it, hoping to find some human companionship.

Around noon, Jess approached a thickly wooded area. Above the tree line to the north, a series of jagged hills spanned the horizon. Jess entered the forest, heading towards the smoke as it spiraled upwards before disappearing into the gray winter sky above. Eventually, the trees began to thin out, and Jess halted his horse in front of a broken-down sign that read, "Welcome to Brooksville." Along the dirt road that led through the center of the abandoned settlement were crudely built shacks and cabins tucked in among the trees. Rusted mining equipment was rotting on the ground. Jess had heard the old story before. Just as quickly as a mining settlement popped up, once the vein ran out, folks pulled up stakes and headed for greener pastures. The weather had suddenly taken a turn for the worse, and Jess needed to find shelter before the snow began to fall. Just past a stand of pine trees, a cabin came into view. Smoke billowed from its chimney. This was the source of the smoke Jess had been tracking since morning. He approached the cabin cautiously on his horse, hoping to find welcoming folks inside.

"Hello in there," he called out in a loud voice. Suddenly, a woman came to the door holding a shotgun. She aimed it straight at Jess. A young boy stood by her side.

"Mister," she said, "my husband will be home any time now. Best clear out while you got the chance; now git!"

"I mean you and your boy no harm, ma'am," Jess said. "I'm just lookin' for a place to hole up during the storm. I reckon one of these shacks will do just fine."

Jess took in the scene. The woman wore a plain dress of brown homespun cloth with a blue and white checkered apron tied around her slender waist. He figured her age to be around 35. She had pulled her dark hair neatly back to reveal a handsome face. Although she was not a beauty, to Jess, she was a sight for sore eyes.

He nodded towards the woman, "I'll be movin' along now, ma'am," then turned and headed for one of the abandoned shacks to spend the night.

When Jess awoke, a blanket of white snow covered the ground. He grabbed his rifle and headed for the woods. That day, Jess caught a rabbit and two quail. He hung the quail in the rafters over the woman's wooden planked porch to keep wild animals away, but kept the rabbit for himself. As evening approached, he hauled water from a nearby creek in an old black kettle and heated it over a fire. It felt good to wash up and trim his beard. The next day, Jess noticed a pile of wood that needed chopping in front of the woman's cabin. She watched him from her window as he worked. On the third day, Jess left a stack of his finest furs on the woman's porch, enough for her to make warm winter coats for herself and her boy.

That night, Jess lay on his bedroll and wondered if the woman's story was true. After all, a woman alone had to defend herself against intruders, even if it meant stretching the truth a little. Yet it had been three days, and her husband had not returned. Why had she stayed behind when the others had left, and who was the occupant of the freshly dug grave near her cabin? If her husband did not return in a few days, Jess decided he would offer to take the woman and her son to the nearest settlement.

When Jess returned from hunting wild turkey the following day, he spotted two horses tied to the bushes near the woman's cabin. He hastily hid his catch under a pile of leaves and then went to investigate, putting his ear to the cabin door. Inside, he heard the gruff voice of a man issuing orders, and suddenly the woman screamed.

"You leave my ma alone," the boy shouted.

That was enough for Jess. Rifle in hand, he burst through the door and took aim at the varmint across the room, but when the man grabbed the woman for a shield, Jess hesitated, and suddenly, the room went black.

When Jess awoke, he was lying on a cot with his hands and feet bound, and the boy was standing over him. His head throbbed something awful.

"Pa, take a drink of water," the boy offered.

Jess immediately played along. The boy held the cup to his lips, and he took a few sips. "Thank you, son," he murmured.

Still dizzy, Jess gazed around the room until it came into focus. It was dark now, and the soft glow of the lamplight filled the cabin. He must have been unconscious for a long time. Two men sat at a little table. Jess figured it was the second man who had slugged him from behind. He listened to their conversation as the men greedily woofed down their food. The man named Claude outlined the plan. They would hole up in the woman's cabin for the winter, keeping out of reach of the law, and in the spring, head for the New Mexico Territory.

Hank, the big man with the scar, wasn't listening to his companion. He was too busy mopping up every morsel of food from his plate. After wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he remarked, "Mighty good vittles, ma'am," and belched loudly.

Now, the woman spoke, "Please," she begged, "let me tend to my husband."

Hank pulled out his gun. "OK," he nodded, "but remember, lady, I got my eye on you."

When the woman covered Jess with a woolen blanket, he felt her slip something into his breast pocket. Then she laid a damp cloth over his forehead.

"Hey lady, no blanket for him," the man with the scar grumbled and yanked it off.

"My husband has a fever, and he needs to be kept warm. If he's sick, he'll be useless to you tomorrow," she pleaded.

Then Claude poked Jess with the butt of his rifle. "Your woman told us all about the gold and how you hid it in the mine. No use denyin' it," Claude said, "in the mornin', sick or not, you'll take us to the gold. Remember, we got your family."

"Don't worry," Hank chuckled, "he ain't gonna give us no grief, not after the pistol whippin' I gave him." Then Hank directed the woman and her son to a cot in a dark corner of the room and bound their hands and feet. "Sorry lady," Hank said, "can't have you wanderin' around in the middle of the night gettin' into mischief."

The men decided to sleep in shifts, so Claude took the first watch. He sat in a chair with his rifle propped up against the little table, while Hank spread his bedroll on the floor and promptly fell asleep.

Jess knew the woman had saved his life by concocting a story, but in the morning, when the men realized there was no gold, they would kill him. He dreaded thinking, what would happen to the woman and her son?

Jess remained vigilant, and around 2:00 in the morning, he caught a lucky break when Claude's head began to droop. Soon, the sounds of two men snoring filled the little cabin.

Now, if he could only get his hands on Claude's rifle. Bless the woman; somehow, she had managed to slip a straight razor into his pocket. He placed the handle between his knees for an anchor and began sawing away at the rope that bound his wrists. Jess had almost cut through the rope when suddenly Claude let out a loud snort, his head jerked upwards, and he opened his eyes. At the same time, Jess quickly let the razor drop to the cot beneath him and feigned sleep.

Satisfied that his prisoner was secure, Claude tried to wake up Hank by kicking his bedroll. "Git up, you lazy bum," he complained. "It's your turn to keep watch."

Finally, Hank sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Now that Hank was awake, Claude left the cabin to pick up some gear, taking his rifle with him, and as soon as the door closed, Hank fell back into a deep sleep.

Jess was in disbelief. A second lucky break! He tugged at the partially severed rope that bound his wrists, and it fell away. After freeing himself from the remaining ropes, he tiptoed across the room and bolted the cabin door. Next, he freed the woman, putting his finger to his lips to indicate silence. All at once, a pack of coyotes in the nearby hills began yipping and howling. At the same time, Claude returned and began to pound on the cabin door, demanding Hank let him in.

With all the commotion, Hank came to his senses and quickly rose to his feet. As he drew his weapon from behind his belt, Jess charged forward in a desperate attempt to keep him from reaching his firearm. In the violent clash that followed, the gun fell to the floor. When Hank made a dive to retrieve his revolver, Jess kicked it out of his reach, where it skidded across the room and stopped in front of the woman's feet. There was no hesitation. She picked up the gun, aimed it, and pulled the trigger. Hank fell to the floor and landed with a thud. Outside, Claude continued to pound on the cabin door. Again, the woman did not hesitate. She aimed the gun directly at the door and emptied the chamber. Finally, Jess took the smoking gun from her hand, and she fell into his arms, sobbing hysterically.

In the morning, Jess wrapped the bodies in tarps and dragged them to the shed, where he had stabled the horses. Before returning to the cabin, Jess went through the men's saddlebags, hoping to discover their identity. Inside, he found a poster featuring the Deacon Brothers, Hank and Claude, wanted for attempted bank robbery and murder. The bank was offering a 500-dollar reward for each man, dead or alive. Although Jess figured the woman could use the money, he had no intention of leaving her and the boy alone to fend for themselves while he went off to collect the bounty. As soon as the ground thawed, he intended to bury the bodies. The Deacon Brothers would never trouble anyone again.

Jess headed back to the woman's cabin, but first, he retrieved the wild turkey he had hidden under a pile of leaves the day before. Luckily, critters hadn't gotten to the bird, and the cold weather had preserved it. The woman had suffered a terrible shock the night before, and Jess figured she'd still be sleeping. As he approached the cabin, he was surprised when the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. Not wanting to barge in, Jess knocked on the door. The woman bid him enter, and he stepped inside just in time to see her remove a fresh batch of biscuits from a grate over the hearth.

"Well," she said, "don't just stand there; put the bird in a pot. You boys can clean it later. I got some wild raspberry preserves that'll make a mighty fine pie to go with it."

Finally, Jess found his tongue and asked the woman the one question he'd been yearning to know for a long time: "Ma'am, may I know your name?"

"My name is Hannah Wilder, and this is my son Benjamin." Then she smiled broadly, and the room lit up.

Jess couldn't help but think about how the name Hannah suited her. It was a plain-sounding name, yet it captured her strength and courage.

Jess decided it was high time he introduced himself. "Hello, ma'am, my name is Jess Cooper, and I'm pleased to meet you and Benjamin. I was on my way to the trading post when I spotted the column of smoke comin' from your cabin. I'm happy to have been of some assistance to you and your boy in your time of trouble." Then Jess removed his beaver hat and stood awkwardly near the cabin door.

"There's no need to be so formal, Jess. You can call me Hannah." Then she offered him a seat at the table. "Make yourself t' home; breakfast is almost ready."

After freshening up at the wash basin, Jess sat at the little table. Hannah sent her son to milk the cow and fetch some eggs from the chicken coop. Then she poured Jess a piping hot cup of coffee and set a plate of biscuits before him. After joining Jess at the table, Hannah began telling him her story.

She had come west with her husband, father, and son, hoping to settle on free government land. The family joined a wagon train in Missouri, heading for Oregon. When they reached the small frontier town of Willow Bend, they had run out of money and supplies and decided to stay for a spell.

One day, not long after they had arrived, the whole town was abuzz with the news of a rich gold strike. An old timer named Amos Brooks, who had been prospecting for gold in the hills of Wyoming, had hit pay dirt. Soon, the news spread like wildfire throughout the region. People flocked to the new mining settlement of Brooksville, located 60 miles west of Willow Bend, so named for its founder.

That was when Hannah and her family decided they would try their luck at prospecting. When they arrived at the mining camp, they found the living conditions to be primitive. The settlement consisted of tents and lean-tos, and in some places, the mud was knee-deep. Tired of living in their covered wagon and with winter fast approaching, Hannah and her family built the first solid living structure. Other miners followed their lead, hastily erecting shacks and cabins.

Every day was a new adventure for Hannah as she panned for gold in nearby streams with little Benjamin while her husband and father worked in the mines. Soon, newcomers to the area depleted the placer gold deposits at the bottom of streams and creek beds. Nonetheless, the mines dug into the hillsides north of the settlement remained productive. During this time, Brooksville flourished, and Hannah decided to start her own business. She purchased baking supplies from the nearest trading post. Using wild berries, herbs, and mushrooms that grew in the nearby forest, she produced baked goods and sold them to the miners. Her huckleberry pies, cornbread, and savory mushroom meat tarts were favorites among the men. In this way, Hannah made her contribution to the family fortune.

After a brief period of prosperity that lasted for three years, the gold vein suddenly ran out. As a result, people left their makeshift homes and moved away. Around the same time, Hannah's father fell sick, so the family stayed behind. After several months of boredom, Hannah's husband grew restless and dreamed of a new adventure. One night, he left for the gold fields of Montana, absconding with their family fortune. In the meantime, Hannah looked after her father until he passed away. She and her son buried him near their cabin. That was two weeks ago. Hannah made it clear she had no interest in reuniting with her husband and hoped never to see him again!

Hannah let out a long sigh and looked into Jess's eyes. "I got deep roots planted here," she said. "Brooksville is where I buried my pa, and where I plan to raise my son. One day, pioneers travelin' west along the Oregon Trail will stop to fill their water barrels from our streams and hunt for game in our forest. While most settlers will move on, a few will share my dream and take up homesteadin' in the empty shacks and cabins. Soon, cities and towns will be springin' up across the west, and Brooksville will be one of them. Life is an adventure," Hannah continued, placing her hand over Jess's, "and I'm invitin' you, Mr. Jess Cooper, to share the journey with us."

At that moment, Jess realized he didn't need to return to civilization to find companionship. He had found it, far from the big cities, with a brave pioneer woman named Hannah and her son Benjamin.

Early the following morning, Jess grabbed a can of paint and an old paintbrush, and on the sign that read, "Welcome to Brooksville," he added, "Population 3 and Growing."