Other than Elisabeth Parthena Bunyan, there was nothing James Martin Prescott longed for more than land as far as the eye could see, and the American government was offering it free. If life had taught him anything, it was, there was a price to pay for all things in this world. The Oregon Trail had been treacherous, the price paid by many, more than Jamie could fathom. They stood now on a precipice of the land, heard the thunder of the river, the wind, as it whistled through the grove of Aspen, and gazed upon the ermine cloaked Rocky Mountains. They had arrived; this was Montana!