It was late December, 10 degrees and falling,
I was logging just below the border line,
Montana wind was chewing up my fingers,
And the snow was coming harder all the time.

I was thinking about the wood stove in my cabin,
As I sawed branches off the day's last tree,
When I had a feeling just above my shoulders,
Somehow someone's eyes were watching me.

I set my saw down turned and then I saw her,
She was trying to hide behind an old white pine,
She was dress as if she should have froze twice over,
And her bare hands clutched a cardboard "North bound" sign.

She must have sized me up as being harmless,
'Cause she simply said I need a place to stay,
I told her I could use the conversation,
Since not too many ventured up this way.

She shivered 'til I got the wood stove started,
And her stew was gone before logs caught fire,
I knew she had a tale that needed telling,
But she only sat and watched the flames grow higher.

But as I was nodding off she started talking,
Though she spoke more to the embers than to me,
She said my name is Mary Ellen Randolf,
And I've come back so Jimmy can go free.

I waited but she only combed her hair down,
Her face was lovely in the fire's glow,
When I asked if she could stay til springtime,
She only said tomorrow I must go.

Sure enough she must have left at sunrise,
I thought about her freezing in the dress,
I must have asked myself a hundred questions,
Then I shrugged and said I'll never know I guess.

Spring thaw came and shut down all the logging,
So I loaded up my truck and drove to town,
And there on the front page morning paper,
Was Mary Ellen in a wedding gown.

The headline said the governor had married,
And the newlyweds were happy as could be,
And the only wedding gift his bride requested,
Was to have one death row prisoner set free.

The article described the ceremony,
Ran a photo of the prisoner and gave his name,
Somehow I knew his last name would be Randolf,
But I shivered when I read his first was James.

But the story said that there was no relation,
Tween the prisoner and the governor's new bride,
Though he mentioned that he had a great grandmother,
Named Mary Ellen on his father's side.

The summer came and I headed for the border,
Still not sure what the whole thing was about,
But I stumbled one day near where I first met her,
On a hill of weeds where a piece of wood stuck out.

Well it looked to be a long forgotten grave site,
And to tell it even now it chilled my spine,
But the piece of wooden read Mary Ellen Randolf,
Rest in peace eighteen ninety nine.

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