Frontier Footprints: A True History of the Rocky Mountains by Amy Kathryn Allen

Previously

…Their voices were low, their eyes gleaming with a familiar avarice. Sarah’s heart quickened. She knew this talk. It was the same talk that had drawn so many to this place, the same talk that had ultimately claimed her husband. Later that night, after the last patron had stumbled out into the darkness, Sarah sat alone, the dim light of a single lamp casting long shadows across the deserted tables. The silence of the saloon was a stark contrast to the boisterous din of earlier hours, and in its quiet embrace, Sarah’s thoughts turned to the glittering vein, to the promises it held, and to the devastating cost it exacted.