
When Adelaide Henry sets fire to her family farmhouse and flees California with a locked steamer trunk, she carries more than grief across the map—she carries a family secret. Chasing the promise of “unlimited opportunities,” she claims land on the brutal Montana plains, where wind scours the skin and a life can vanish overnight. Adelaide plans to disappear, to live quiet, to prove up her homestead. But the past lives in that trunk. It breathes. It hungers. And it won’t be left behind.
Victor LaValle’s Lone Women blends historical fiction, frontier survival, and gothic horror into a single, steady breath. We ride with Adelaide through coulees and blizzards, meet neighbors who might be salvation or danger—Grace and her bright, restless son Sam; Bertie Brown and Fiona Wong, a pair of businesswomen who make their own rules; and the Mudge boys, blindfolds off and guns in hand. Behind them all stands the power of Big Sandy’s queen, Mrs. Jerrine Reed, who smiles as she measures a town’s soul.
What begins as a flight becomes a reckoning. Adelaide’s secret has a name. It has a face. And when it finally steps out under the opera house lights, the women of the plains have to decide what kind of town they want to be. This is a story about family—by blood and by choice—about the cruelty of shame and the relief of truth. It’s about monsters we inherit and the ones we make, and the hard work of choosing who to become.