No, he’d best get home, which was to the far south shore of Tahoe, and then ride up the east side of the lake tomorrow. This time he’d ride as far as he needed to, even if it meant he had to be gone overnight.
And he hated that. His home, with the fine meals, the fresh laundry, and now a new cabin for the women and children, with another one in the process of being built for the men, had never been a more welcoming place.
As he rode toward home, he let Black stretch out in a ground-eating gallop and pondered the wisdom of having an eyewitness at hand the next time he went hunting. If it were anyone but a fragile woman, he knew he wouldn’t hesitate. But it went against all he considered right. At the same time his common sense said it made no sense to leave her behind.
He had to decide before he got back.
“He’s back,” Gwen whispered from where she was peeking out the little hole in the front shutters—the little slit worked as a peephole and a gun sight—without swinging the shutters wide and letting in the cold. The shutters were tight; the whole cabin was well built, warm, and had a safe, almost fortress-like quality to it.
Deb’s heart sped up, and her breath caught a bit. He was much earlier than she’d expected. She steadied herself and whispered back, “Get away from that window and help me get a meal on. We finally have enough space we can all sit in a chair.”
“Enough space and enough chairs.” Gwen hooked the peephole closed and came back, grinning. “I can’t believe the men built a cabin for us and enough furniture for us all to sit on, and a table to sit at.”
They could have a meal together and it’d be all three men, because Utah and Adam had worked through supper on the bunkhouse.
Shaking her head, Deb forced her thoughts away from the window. “It makes me think of Pa and how he was always so busy, too busy to take care of us or Ma or our house. He couldn’t even find time to repair a wobbly step or a broken railing. And yet these men built a whole cabin in a few days.”
As she talked, Deb sliced a tender venison roast. Adam had brought in a deer and butchered it right after the noon meal. He left most of it hanging to freeze but brought in a good-sized roast, almost apologetically, wondering if they’d like to cook it for supper. Like maybe he was ruining some plan already made.
“I’ve spent too much time believing all men are like Pa, just because he was the only one I was really around in a personal way. The only one who was supposed to take care of his family that I knew. But men can work hard and be depended on to keep their word and think to the comfort of others.”
Gwen stirred the roast drippings into a thick gravy, while Deb set the platter of sliced roast to the back of the fire to keep warm and lifted the pot of boiling potatoes off its hook to mash. The whole cabin was warm and secure.
She felt safe, Deb realized. Yes, even with those evil men running loose. And then she realized the feeling had sprung up when Trace had returned. Until now, Trace hadn’t been safe. Here she’d stood with plentiful food in warmth and safety, but with a heart aching to think of him on that cold trail. And now he was home and, at least for tonight, she felt safe.
Gwen set a smaller pan near Deb. “Pour the potato water into this. I need it to thin the gravy.”
Adam had come in today excited because he’d found an old apple tree with slightly withered apples. It was far past the proper harvest time, but still, he’d brought in a bushel of them. They were indeed sad old apples, not in good enough shape to store. But carefully peeled, they cooked up into two bubbling apple pies baking at the back of the new, bigger fireplace. They’d have to cook the apples up fast before they spoiled. Utah gave them some advice about using honey rather than sugar—Trace had a good supply of it. Deb realized they didn’t need to constantly use Trace’s flour and sugar for a delicious apple dessert, although they’d made crusts today.
The whole place smelled of savory and sweet food and newly sawn wood. And Deb was almost embarrassed to realize just how much she wanted to impress Trace.
They kept busy, with Deb listening for the sound of the men coming in to eat—and one particular set of feet.
When at last she heard boots, she waited, silly of her, until they came in and shed their coats. Then once they were watching, she fetched the apple pies out of the fireplace. She carried them to the table and managed a quick inspection of Trace. He was just fine. The men gave her a very gratifying gasp of excitement. Compliments flowed.
Deb couldn’t help but smile as she set the pies down. This was much more fun than writing for a newspaper.
“And today,” she said and swept a hand at the chairs, “we have enough places at the table so you can each have a seat. All of us can eat together.”
The children were long asleep, but there was a chair for Maddie Sue if she’d use it. Ronnie was still going to be on someone’s lap for a while.
Utah was the first to slide into a chair. “I made the table and chairs just for this purpose, Miss Deb.”
“We appreciate this house and the furniture so much. We pray for
