When hard-driving Chicago attorney Rachel Winston is pursued by an organized crime family, she never imagines the outcome of awakening in the raucous gold mining town of Idaho City in 1864, where those with sympathies for each side of the Civil War explode into violence. Here and now, she must learn not only to survive but to face the trauma of her past by accepting the boundless love of a big-hearted pioneer clan, as well as Ethan and Rose Stonehill, a wounded Union cavalry officer and his young daughter striving to forge a new life on the American frontier.

Bender's screenplay treatment of The Far Reach of Yesterday recently won the BEST SCRIPT award at the International New York Film Festival.

BOOK REVIEW FROM BOOK LIFE:

Bender (author of Aboard Cabrillo’s Galleon) sweeps readers into 1864 Idaho in this time-traveling historical fiction. In present day Chicago, 32-year-old attorney Rachel Winston is reeling from the death of her beloved grandfather when she’s caught in a shootout with a deadly crime family. She wakes up from her injuries physically healed but in a stranger’s home, in mid-19th century Idaho territory, with no memories of how she arrived—though everyone seems to know who she is, as the eldest daughter of the large Milford family. While Rachel works to regain her identity, she confronts the demons from her real-life past, against a backdrop of a country battling with itself, as the Civil War looms and the American government fights Indigenous peoples to take over their land.

Identity serves as a connective theme throughout, as Rachel tries to make sense of her place among family members in 1864 and her very real life in present-day Chicago. She wonders if she died during the shootout, though her experiences in Idaho are evocative and intense, surrounding her with a closeknit, extensive support system that quickly becomes central to her journey, such as her youngest brother, Charlie—who insists that “’I know’d you was still my Rachel… They all said you forgot me but I know’d you didn’t.” As she grows more comfortable with her surroundings and starts to gain a sense of place, Rachel balances those weighty emotions with the feeling that she is a fraud and undeserving of her newfound family.

Bender’s passion for history is evident, and Rachel’s story is rooted in vivid historical detail. Every character plays an important role, immersing readers in the setting, and, as Rachel discovers not just family heritage but also true love, she must reconcile her past and present, leading to a touching ending that demonstrates the power of true belonging.

The Far Reach of Yesterday

Chapter 1

Chicago’s unpredictability strengthened with the darkness, and on that thundering, rain-sodden night two of its residents failed to foresee how their next steps would prove the deadliness of good intentions.

On the sixteenth-floor of a high-rise in the heart of the Loop, Rachel Winston stood in her office before a massive mahogany desk and stared down at a funeral card bearing the name of Simon L. Winston. Dressed in a somber black dress with her hair pulled back in a bun, her face bore an expression markedly grave for its thirty-two years. With deliberate movements she skirted her desk, took a key from her purse, and unlocked a lower drawer.

“Hello, old friend,” she said softly, and lifted a diamond-weave nine-foot bullwhip. She ran a thumb over the frayed edges of a small cross engraved near the knot of the handle, her thoughts distant. From this musing absorption her features began to shift, revealing a building grief and anger. With a step to the side and a practiced snap of her arm, she lashed the air, the whip’s stinging crack mingling with her own cry. Again she swung the leather high and forward, drawing its explosion and fracturing the stillness. Over and over she flayed the emptiness until she stumbled and sank to the floor with a stifled sob. After a moment she forced herself to stand, and her eyes fell once more on the funeral card. She steadied her breath, and said, “Your secret’s finally safe, Grandpa. The hell of it is, your death took you out of my reach as well as theirs.”

There was a quick knock at the door before a deeply concerned middle-aged woman hurried in, but Rachel raised her hands to keep her at a distance. “Ellen, I’m okay. I thought you went home after the funeral. I thought everyone had.”

“No, I’ve been waiting.”

“I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“That whip only comes out when you’re far from fine, Rachel. Your ‘demon slayer,’ you called it once.”

“I should have beaten these demons long ago. Grandpa’s death has just stirred them up.”

Ellen studied the red eyes and tight brow before her. Though Rachel was officially her boss, and half her age, their years together had diminished the significance of such things. “I wish you’d let me try to help. Wouldn’t some time away do you good?”

“Being somewhere else would only give me more time to think, too much time. I’m better now, truly, and you should head home.” Returning the bullwhip to its drawer, Rachel moved to a wall of windows and gazed out at the shadowy skyline.

Ellen continued, “All I have waiting for me at home are two cats. Say, you’ve talked for weeks about wanting to finish researching your genealogy. That might be just the thing to keep you connected to your Grandpa Simon.”

“I don’t think the past is the best thing for me to focus on right now.”

“Alright then, I’ll let it be, but—"

The cell phone on the desk rang and Rachel glanced at the caller’s name before answering. “Hi, Jason.”

“Hello, counselor. It was a beautiful service today. It must have been tough on you, though.”

“Yeah, it was both beautiful and tough.”

“Am I wrong to guess that you’re back at work?”

“No, you’re not wrong. I hear your detective’s tone of voice, and that’s generally not a good sign.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry to ask this of you today, but something’s come up and I’d like to keep it unofficial at the moment. Listen, can you meet me at the Super 8 in Evanston tonight? Now, in fact?”

“Now? What’s happening in Evanston?”

“A few young thugs worked over a mutual friend of ours, and he wants to see you.”

“Just who got worked over, and how bad is he?”

That brought Ellen’s eyebrows up, her stare demanding, What are you getting yourself into now?

“It’s nothing life threatening,” said Jason, “and he begged me not to call anyone but you.”

“Jason, who are we talking about? And why me?”

“It’ll be better if I explain things in person. Let’s just say he’s looking at a touchy legal situation. Can you come?”

When there was no elaboration, Rachel sighed and said, “I don’t want your sweet wife to stop inviting me over for lasagna, so yes. You know I’ll come.”

“Thanks, Rachel. Hey, it just started raining here, so cover up and wear something…bulky. The less attention you draw, the better.”

A pause stretched out while she absorbed this.

“Rachel?”

“All right, Jason, I’ll be there in an hour.”

“That’s my girl. Park near the west entrance and call me when you get here.”

“Will do. See you soon.”

Avoiding Ellen’s questioning gaze, Rachel hung up, wondering which of her clients might cause Jason to act so strangely.

With uneasiness betraying her attempt to maintain a calm voice, Ellen asked, “Care to fill me in?”

“Jason wants me to meet him and a client in Evanston.”

“And you’re going? At this hour?”

“You know Jason, and I’ve known him since high school. He wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. And if I get moving maybe you’ll vacate the building, too.” Rachel gathered up her laptop and files, and flashed Ellen a reassuring smile. “Have a good night, and don’t come in early tomorrow.” She walked out, hoping to leave before further protests could be raised, but Ellen’s worried voice followed her out the door, threatening, “I just may sleep ’til noon.”

Fifty-seven minutes later Rachel turned off the ignition of her Lexus and scooted low enough to be nearly invisible to passersby. Rain drummed on the roof and spattered the windshield as she surveyed the hotel parking lot for several moments, then dialed Jason’s number. “I’m here.”

“I saw you pull in. Rachel, things have gotten complicated, maybe dangerous.”

“For me?”

“It’s possible. This may be a bad idea.”

“Well, let me in and we can talk about it.”

“I just don’t—. Shit. Okay. Wait a minute...” Rachel waited, listening to Jason’s breathing as he walked. “Almost there. Alright, I’m at the door.”

She spotted his large body and dark head at a side door, glanced around once more, and hurried across the pavement dodging puddles. As he ushered her in, Rachel was surprised to see his revolver discreetly pointed at the floor, but they walked to room 114 without exchanging a word. Once inside, Jason eyed her costume with raised brows and a smirk, then nodded his approval. As she took off the floppy hat, a braid of her honey-colored hair fell from beneath, and the ankle-length raincoat dripping onto the floor could have covered two people her size.

“Quite the outfit,” he said. “I’m glad you took my advice. There’s more cause to be careful than I’d thought.”

He took her coat and draped it over a chair as she turned toward the rumpled bed and caught sight of a smear of blood on the bedspread. “Jason, what—.” She stilled as the bathroom door opened and a young man limped into the room, and it took an instant longer for recognition to come. “Carlo!” Stepping quickly forward, she reached out to steady him, and Carlo sucked back a cry of pain as she and Jason eased him onto the bed. Rachel’s gaze swept his body, her face working hard to mask the force of her reaction. Other than his unruly brown hair, height, and slim build, there were few features that had not been altered.

A few drops of blood had leaked from the bandage above his left eye, leaving a trail that circled the outside of his eye socket. A larger bandage covered the right side of his jaw. His face was severely swollen and much of his tan skin was beginning to darken to red or purple. He wore a pair of torn jeans with the top two buttons undone, and a shirt with the left sleeve torn open to expose his thickly bandaged arm.

Rachel’s disquiet quickly flared to anger. “Jason, why haven’t you taken him to a hospital?”

Carlo answered before Jason had a chance, the words somewhat garbled as his lips and tongue maneuvered around at least one broken tooth. “Please, Miss Winston… you helped my mother. That’s why—”.

“Shh, Carlo, shh,” she said, drawing closer. “Lie still and rest now.” When the youth tried to speak again, Rachel sat down next to him and took his hand. “Hush, Carlo, please. I’ll be right here.” She looked down at the hand grasping hers and noticed little sign of injury. Forcefully keeping her outrage in check, she stared up at Jason, her expression demanding answers.

“Look, Rachel, he called a couple of hours ago and asked me to meet him here. Said to come alone, that he was in trouble. He’d managed to slip in through a side-door and was hiding in a bathroom stall. When I found him there he wouldn’t let me take him out of the building, so I got this room and patched him up the best I could. I think he has a broken left arm, and maybe a couple of ribs. Probably a concussion too. I gave him a heavy dose of ibuprofen.” In answer to Rachel’s unrelenting stare, he added with reluctance, “He just admitted that some of the Valentis did this with a baseball bat.”

“His family? Why, Jason? And why the hell is he still in this hotel room?”

Jason sighed and pulled up a chair. “They did it to keep him quiet, and he refused to move until he talked to you. If the Valentis knew his location they might well have acted by now, but they haven’t.”

Carlo spoke up again. “Don’t worry, Miss Winston. I made sure they couldn’t track me. Before I came here, I threw my phone into a pick-up, heading west.”

Jason looked at him with approval. “That quick thinking might give us some time.” He watched Carlo close his eyes at last, his breathing deepening as the pills finally began to kick in, and turned to Rachel. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen his family’s methods. Rachel, when you were working on his parents’ divorce, did you hear anything about the Valenti activities?”

“Nothing definite.” Carlo didn’t stir, so she went on. “Carlo’s mother gave me a few vague warnings, said her husband could be ruthless. I wondered if he was involved in something criminal.”

“Did he, Andrew Valenti, threaten you while you were on that case?”

“He called me once and suggested I take his first settlement offer. But I suggested he look at our counter offer again and settle out of court to avoid the publicity of a trial. In the end, he did just that.”

Jason shook his head. “You were damn lucky he didn’t try to scare you with more than words. Carlo just told me that when he was sixteen he was forced to witness the murder of an informant, under his father’s orders. And he’s seen a lot more than that over the past two years.”

As Carlo began to snore softly, Rachel’s troubled eyes watched him through several deep breaths before easing her hand from his. In a voice that betrayed her own fatigue, she said, “Go on, Jason.”

“You probably know that Carlo’s old man died a few months ago; natural causes, or so I heard. Carlo says he’d never wanted any part of this, and he’d hoped, with his father gone, to drift out of the business without much trouble. Well, tonight some Valenti henchmen made it clear they mean to keep him in.”

Jason leaned closer, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “Rachel, he says he’ll tell everything he knows, everything, if we protect him. But tonight he won’t talk to anyone but you.”

“He’ll give me evidence against his family?”

Jason nodded solemnly.

Her forehead furrowed. “Just how deeply has he been involved?”

“I can only guess. He probably did whatever he had to.”

With mounting frustration, Rachel blurted, “Jason, you know I’ve never handled anything like this, anything related to organized crime. The closest I’ve ever come was that fatal domestic violence case.”

“If it were anyone but Carlo... Rachel, I’ve known this kid since he played t-ball with my sons, but I haven’t seen him for years so he’s even leery of me. Now he sees me as a cop more than a friend. What he’s looking for is someone to keep him safe, from both sides, and he’s picked you.”

“But I don’t have the power to keep him safe. For his sake we’ve got to convince him to put his faith in someone who does.”

“I tried. He’s dug in his heels, says he’ll get amnesia if we cross him. So… here we are.” They stared at each other in a silent tug-of-war until Rachel’s gaze faltered and drifted back to Carlo. Jason finally asked, “Got any other suggestions, counselor?”

“Look at him, Jason,” she said very quietly. “He’s hardly more than a boy.”

“Yeah.”

“If he talks, just what kind of shelter can you, I mean the police, or the Justice Department, actually provide? How good a chance does he have?”

“That depends a lot on him. So far he refuses to budge from this room and he won’t let me call in more men. Not the safest of circumstances. I can’t haul him in against his will unless he’s committed a crime, which he hasn’t confessed to, and he’ll clam up if I try. But, Rachel, if he really can provide evidence, especially if it’s related to a number of homicides, protection is exactly what he needs. It’s incredible he made it here in the first place, but when he doesn’t turn up where he’s expected to be next, you can bet they’ll be looking for him.”

With deep regret, Jason went on, “If I’d had any idea how dangerous the situation might become, I swear I never would have called you. At first the kid convinced me he’d been mugged by some punks from school, said he wanted to sue the lot of them, so he needed you. I must be losing my instincts because I swallowed it all. I didn’t even suspect the Valentis. The real story started spilling out only after I told him I’d spotted you at that corner stoplight. I tried to call, to warn you, but you didn’t pick up. Then you were here.”

The self-reproach declared itself so clearly on Jason’s dark features and slumped shoulders that Rachel reached over and patted his arm. “Jason, it’s all right. You did warn me, remember? Besides, if they don’t know he’s here, we’ve got some breathing room, right?” Careful not to disturb Carlo, she eased away from his side and began slowly prowling around the room. After some moments she faced Jason and crossed her arms. “Okay, I’ll stay close until we get him to accept medical care, and a lawyer with more expertise. Does anyone at the station know what’s happening here?”

“Not yet.” He motioned for her to join him at a small corner table, and went on, “I could only persuade him to let me call my wife. If I hadn’t, she’d have sent the whole force out looking for me.”

“Oh, Jason,” Rachel said guiltily, “I forgot all about Sylvia.”

“I just told her you and I were going over a case. She knows how some of your divorce cases start with assault. I can tell her something closer to the truth after we figure out our next step.”

Rachel nodded. “When will you be calling in to the station? And what about a doctor?”

Carlo spoke up from the bed, “No.” He turned his head and tried to focus his good eye on them. “No cops. My family has at least three on their payroll. And no doctor until I talk to Miss Winston.”

It took a minute for Jason to accept Carlo’s revelation. “Can you tell me the names of the cops?”

“I don’t know any names, or what they look like.”

“Sons of bitches. Listen, Carlo, I believe what you’re saying, but I know some guys I’d trust with my life. Will you let me call them while you and Rachel talk, so they can come guard you? And a good doctor who I’m sure will keep quiet? You need their help.”

After considering for painful moments, Carlo said with uncertain resignation, “You’d better be sure of your friends, detective.” Then, peering at Rachel, he added, “Miss Winston, maybe I should tell you what I know right now, in case….”

Jason looked down and studied his own fingers. “Rachel… it’s not such a bad idea. Let’s record my giving him his Miranda rights, then I’ll leave you two alone. I want to make those calls and look around.”

“But he’s not under arrest,” she said.

“I don’t want to take a chance that some Valenti lawyer will cry ‘custodial interrogation’”.

“Yes, of course,” she agreed. “It’s been a long day. My laptop’s in my car.”

“I’ll get it,” Jason said, rising. “And I’m going to rent the rooms on both sides and across the hall. A little more privacy can’t hurt.”

“Good idea. The laptop is under the blanket in my back seat.”

Jason leaned down and laid a light hand on Carlo’s shoulder. But his young charge, who was in no mood to be so easily comforted, said, “Jason, if you don’t know your people, I’m a dead man. Remember that.”

Jason nodded and checked the hallway before sliding his large frame out the door. He was back in fifteen very long minutes, and handed her the laptop. “We’re all set. The doctor should be here in about an hour.”

Rachel set up both her phone and the laptop to record their interview. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get it over with.”

Jason spoke into the screen, saying, “I’m Detective Jason Dorely and I’m with Carlo Valenti and attorney Rachel Winston at the Super 8 hotel in Evanston. It’s March 19, 2024. Carlo, you’re not currently under arrest, but I want you to know that you have the right to remain silent...”

When Jason had finished laying out Carlo’s rights, and they’d been acknowledged, he left the room. Rachel kept the laptop and phone screens directed at Carlo, introduced him and herself again, and gently encouraged him to begin. He started slowly, but despite his injured mouth and sore jaw he left little out of the first telling. Then they went over it all again. He attempted to fully answer each of Rachel’s questions, giving up every haunting detail. Midnight was approaching by the time they finished tying up the threads binding this intricate quilt of intrigue and violence.

She phoned Jason at last, and moments later he was at the door, accompanied by a doctor at least seventy years old.

“This is Dr. Jesko.”

Rachel gave him a smile of appreciation and nodded her welcome.

The short, wiry, soft-spoken doctor said, “Well, young man, let me take a look at you. I’ll have you more comfortable in no time.”

While the doctor was unpacking his medical bag, Jason drew Rachel to the far corner of the room and asked in an undertone, “You get it all?”

Rachel’s response was even softer. “It’s ugly, Jason. He gave me everything he knows about six murders, and a long list of lesser crimes.”

“Holy shit.” Jason considered aloud, “If the kid testifies, he may actually get some very lethal scum off the streets.” He held her gaze. “And I strongly doubt he’d have talked without you here.”

“Maybe not,” she admitted, her voice heavy.

With a rueful smile, he asked “You feel like using that whip of yours on me right about now?”

She could only manage a half-smile with her reply. “Funny you should mention my whip. I used it tonight on some old ghosts.”

“Really? Care to elaborate? I’ve always thought you kept those ghosts too well protected.”

Slowly shaking her head, she said, “You can’t solve this one, Jason. Even you can’t get rid of my past.” Before he could respond she left his side and returned to Carlo, watching as the doctor injected a newly cleansed wound to numb it before stitching it closed.

All the while Dr. Jesko had examined, cleaned, and offered medication, Carlo had maintained a cooperative fortitude, and Rachel’s admiration for his bravery continued to grow.

The doctor put away the last of his instruments and supplies, then passed Jason a bottle of pills and said, “Give him two more of these in four hours. He needs his chest and left arm x-rayed, and should see a dentist as soon as possible. Would you like me to make a few calls?”

“No, thanks,” said Jason. “I’ll take it from here, but I appreciate your help.”

Carlo turned his head toward Jason and asked, “Are your men coming?”

“They’re in the next room. I’ll call them over now.” Moments later he ushered in two plain-clothed officers. Jack Frasier, a rugged veteran of the force whom Rachel had met several times before, greeted her with a friendly nod. Jason forestalled any discussion by saying, “We’ll make our introductions in a moment.” Then, directing his request at Jack, he asked, “Can you accompany the doctor to his car?”

“Sure thing. Let’s go, Doc.” Both men quietly left the room.

“Carlo, Rachel,” said Jason, “this is Lenny White.” The youthful, broad, good-looking officer greeted Carlo and then shook Rachel’s hand as if it were made of Murano glass.

Almost immediately Jason saw the familiar shadow of aloofness come over Rachel’s expression. He noticed how casually she took a chair by the table and avoided eye-contact with the rest of them, especially Lenny, and it was like watching the lowering of a veil. As she answered Lenny’s few direct questions she was almost too polite, and the warmth she’d shown Carlo and the doctor earlier were absent from both her words and body language. Jason might have told himself he was imagining this, but he’d seen the pattern too many times before. When unknown men close to her own age entered Rachel’s sphere, she slid into this distancing pattern, evidently meant to build an emotional barricade. But from what? In this case Lenny was a cop and his friend, and too dedicated to his duty to hit on her under these circumstances. He’d heard others describe Rachel as “guarded,” and maybe all beautiful women grew up learning some version of these tactics, but right now he couldn’t help thinking that Fort Knox might learn a few lessons from her.

If there was a dark episode in her past, she’d never hinted at it as strongly as tonight. Still perusing her from across the room, he recalled the comment she’d made tonight about ghosts, and wished she’d trust him enough to help her exorcise them. Rachel never tried to hide the fact that Ellen and he were her only close friends. She seemed to prefer it that way. From what Jason had heard, her parents weren’t especially devoted to either Rachel or her brother in Rome. Although she seldom brought up the subject of her family, he’d gathered that her parents had brought their children into the world and then more or less forgotten about them. And men? With Rachel’s package of looks and smarts, she could easily have her pick, but as far as he knew she’d avoided dating anyone for long. The only exception was someone she’d met a year or two ago who lived out of state somewhere. She’d traveled to see him more than once, he remembered. She hadn’t shared much about him, but she’d seemed pretty broken up when it ended. Even so, she hadn’t mentioned the guy’s name again, just added him to the list of things she didn’t want to divulge. Due to his own wariness of the tight-lipped, hard-eyed attitude that flared in her if he pushed too hard for openness, Jason usually left that well-tended list alone.

And yet, considering how caring Rachel had been with Carlo, how she proved to be with anyone who truly needed her help, and then seeing her now, Jason could only shake his head and admit how little he knew about women. He turned his attention to the question Lenny was directing Carlo’s way as Jack came back and joined them.

After some discussion, it was decided that Carlo would be taken to a small, discreet emergency care unit tomorrow, and that Jack, Lenny, and just one other pair of cops would be assigned to protect him around the clock. Jason already had the other two men in mind and could easily get approval from his captain. As for the dentist, Jack would line one up who needn’t know Carlo’s real name or situation.

“Now that things are more settled,” Jason said, turning to Rachel, “I’ll follow you home and leave you in peace until tomorrow.” She agreed, and they wished the others good night.

He remained watchful as they walked down the hushed hallway, and said quietly, “Just to make sure Carlo behaves, I told him he’ll only be allowed to see you after he accepts his full share of medical care.”

She pursed her lips. “Threatening to withhold counsel? Sounds like police misconduct to me.”

More than a little relieved to hear the banter in her tone, Jason grinned. “You wouldn’t deprive a man of his specialty, would you?” view abbreviated excerpt only...

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