To her belonged Amber Spring, the water which gave verdure and beauty to the village and made living possible on that wild purple upland waste.

She could not escape being involved by whatever befell Cottonwoods.
That year, 1871, had marked a change which had been gradually coming in the lives of the peace-loving Mormons of the border.

Glaze--Stone Bridge--Sterling, villages to the north, had risen against the invasion of Gentile settlers and the forays of rustlers.

There had been opposition to the one and fighting with the other.

And now Cottonwoods had begun to wake and bestir itself and grown hard.
Jane prayed that the tranquillity and sweetness of her life would not be permanently disrupted.