Excerpt from The Book Woman's Daughter by Kim Michele Richardson, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Eight landings and one-hundred-thirty-three steps to the trapdoor," I told Pearl as we tied our mounts at the bottom. "Used to be only eighty-four steps, but they had a fire in the cab that destroyed it. They decided to rebuild and raise the cab higher."

Pearl cupped her hand over her eyes and stared up at her new wooden home atop the winding steel stairs with its metal catwalk encircling it. "It's perfect," she said.

I couldn't help but wonder why a woman would want to take on the dangerous job, much less want to live here alone.

As if hearing my thoughts, she said, "I was born to do this job. To be able to live as close as you can get to your Maker, in His mighty nature. Ever heard of Hallie Daggett, Honey?"

I shook my head.

"I read about her work years ago. She became the first female fire lookout of the Forest Service in 1913. Spent fifteen years on the job working at the Eddy Gulch fire tower in the Klamath National Forest. That's way up at the top of California. And I want to be just like her, only spend my next thirty being a lookout." She laughed.

"That's something." I stared at her a moment, even more impressed that she knew what she wanted for herself and was determined to get it.

"Seven men put in for this appointment, but R.C. said I was capable as any of them because I had manned the fire tower back home. Also, I passed the eyesight test with flying colors. Two of the men had poor eyesight and only one had the formal classroom training for becoming a fire lookout like I'd had. R.C. said none of the applicants had formally studied topography like me. The Forestry made me spend an eight-hour grueling day hiking the forest, and another hour running up and down the fire-tower steps with the men. There were only three of us left."

I was flabbergasted that she had won the appointment over so many men and overwhelmed with admiration. Somehow, I felt close to her, and a kinship I'd never known before took hold. If Pearl could do all that, maybe I could survive on my own too.

"The men didn't like it much and grumbled to the bosses," she said. "Some said it wasn't fair for a female to steal a man's rightful paycheck. But some of those old boys didn't know how to even locate a fire, much less tell the difference between a sleeping one or sheep dust or a fog puff." Pearl laughed.

"I'm glad you got it," I said, meaning it.

She sighed happily. "Home."

"C'mon, I'll help you carry the bags up before I head out to Retta's place."

"Thanks. Is Retta family?"

I couldn't tell this brave girl that she was my babysitter. Instead, I said, "Loretta Adams is a close friend of my family."

Pearl dug into her pocket and pulled out two small keys on a chain and jangled them, smiling. "R.C. gave me the padlock keys this morning. I can't wait to see my cab! I'd like to have you over once I settle in."

"I'd like that," I said, needing a friend more than ever. And with one as smart as her, I could learn a lot by being her friend.

I took one of her panniers and we trudged up the old metal steps, the tower slightly swaying, the stairs rumbling protests as we climbed toward the top. We stopped a moment and Pearl searched the mountain-layered horizon. I pointed out the snow curtain, sheets of white heading toward Troublesome.

When we reached the last landing where the metal platform under the cab led up to the trapdoor, Pearl whisked out a cry.

I peered over her shoulder. Someone had taken a hacksaw to four of the metal steps and cut them off, making it impossible to reach the trapdoor that led up inside the cab.

She cried out once more and pointed to the trapdoor and the half-broke padlock on the outside latch.

I stared at the ugly words scrawled across the door in red paint. PUT BACK ON YOUR APRON & GO BACK TO YOUR KITCHEN—BITCH

Excerpted from The Book Woman's Daughter by Kim Michele Richardson. Copyright © 2022 by Kim Michele Richardson. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.