She had the complexion of weathered leather, eyes like shining lumps of coal, a voice that grated like a rasp, and she was a skilled gunsmith with the demeanor of a wolverine. But she had a set of twins that needed to be raised and the city was no place for that. When the wagon train she joined was hit by Indians and she and her family were left behind, her skill with a big Sharps rifle made her a welcome addition to a buffalo hunt with the Comanche. But her goal was the gold fields of California and she needed help. Only one man in the mountains could handle that task.

Tate Saint, known as the Rocky Mountain Saint, and his family would soon provide all the help she needed, and more. But an attack by the same Jicarilla Apache and Mouache Ute that wiped out Fort Pueblo on Christmas day would put them all to the test, and that wasn’t all that would be thrown at them by the forces of nature, the wilds of the wilderness and the depravity of man. Challenges and trials would come against them, and the mettle of the mountain man would have to prove its worth, if he was up to it.