“You used my apples,” Adam said. “Sure glad I found that tree. Trace, next year we need to go back earlier and pick the whole thing clean.”
“I didn’t even know there was an apple tree near here. After all these years I haven’t explored all this land yet.”
“And you cooked this venison tender as I’ve ever tasted.” Adam took a big bite and chewed for a while before he went on. “I might’ve shot it, but you ladies turned it into something special. You are fine cooks.”
The meal was a cheerful one. Trace told about his futile search but with firm determination that he would search until he found the men he sought. Deb thought he gave her a considering look that made her wonder what he was thinking.
Utah and Adam talked about building and discussed what else they needed to add to the bunkhouse.
“I’m mighty glad you’re putting up that bunkhouse,” Trace said. “But if Deb, Gwen, and the youngsters leave, I’m not going to want to live in this house by myself. I’ve had enough of being alone.”
Utah laughed. Adam, who sat next to Trace, slapped him on the back.
“If?” Deb repeated.
All the men fell silent and chewed as if that was the reason for the silence, even though two of them stuffed food into their mouths after Deb had spoken.
“I mean . . . when,” Trace said quietly. “I reckon it’s just been so nice to have you here, I can’t help but wish you’d . . . you’d stay.”
The other men nodded, still chewing.
Deb didn’t know how to respond. Of course they were leaving. Even though these men had just built her a house, the nicest thing a man had ever done for her. She hadn’t known men like these existed, and here were three of them.
She finished her meal quickly and dished up the pie, still mulling over the right thing to say, especially since being wanted, and yes, needed, was a fine feeling.
When the meal was done, Deb asked Trace, “I know you’ve had a long hard day, but would you mind going for a short walk?”
The other men rose from the table. Wolf was sleeping in front of the door, and he jumped up and stood aside. Deb thought Wolf was guarding them, but Trace said the dog liked the cold and had picked that spot because a winter breeze tended to slip under the door.
Utah said, “I’m gonna get a few more licks in on the new cabin. It’s late, and the sun is gone, but we are moving faster. I reckon it’s due to practice. I think we can get the walls up past the window level if we work awhile tonight. Who knows, but at this rate, if the weather holds we might get a new barn up, as well.”
He led Adam outside so fast it looked like they were running away.
Trace sat there looking trapped. “Uh . . . a walk would be a good idea. You and me. Us.” He cleared his throat, and his eyes shifted to Gwen. “But maybe we should stay and help clean the supper dishes?”
Gwen smiled. “The youngsters are asleep. I can tidy up in peace. You two go on.”
Trace rose from the table, fetched his hat and coat. He waited while Deb found her bonnet and her own coat, and they walked outside together, Wolf on their heels.
The air was cold but not bitterly so.
Trace said, “Let’s take the trail behind the barn. If it gets too cold, we’ve got the fire lit in the old cabin—we can go in there to have our talk.”
“Let’s walk at least for a while.” Deb reached down and patted Wolf on the head. “Is this really a wolf or a dog?”
CHAPTER
16
Well, Trace would surely prefer talking about his dog to whatever else Deb had on her mind.
“His mama was a dog. No doubt about it. I—” he broke off. Why in tarnation had he thought this was a good idea? “I k-killed her.”
Deb’s head whipped around. “I suppose she was dangerous.”
He could tell she didn’t mean it. She’d just decided he was a low-down, mother-killing sidewinder. It was nice of her to pretend she wasn’t horrified.
“It was late in the spring, winter still hard upon me, and I found a pack of six wolves pulling down a wild mustang mare. She was standing in front of a spring colt that was maybe a couple months old, not a newborn thing. The mare was fighting for her baby’s life, but she was losing. She looked like an old one, tough but at the end of her years. At least I like to hope so.”
They walked past the barn. The trail here led all the way to Dismal, but they sure enough weren’t going that far.
“I jumped into the fight with a pistol and a rifle.” Trace was silent a moment, remembering the terrible sight.
Deb nodded. “And you saved the mare?”
“Nope. Each of my guns was a one-shot. I managed to finish four of the wolves, because twice I was able to put a bullet through one and it passed through and killed the wolf behind it. I had my knife in hand, ready to wade in and fight the last two, but they ran off yelping. The mare was bleeding bad from her throat. She was barely on her feet. She turned, saw me, and tried to charge, still fighting for her baby. But she was used up, and I got far enough away she didn’t have the strength to catch me. She circled back to her baby, and
