Trapper had spent years learning to read people. These men were looking for trouble. Maybe running from someone, or riding toward something they wanted bad enough to exhaust their horses to get.
Who knows, maybe the men were even looking for him. Or worse, the girls. That knowledge felt like ice sliding down his back.
When the riders were out of sight, he swung Number Two onto Midnight and put his hat on her head. The big hat shadowed her face. “I’ll stay here and watch to make sure they don’t come back.” He put his hand over hers. “You tell Mrs. Adams where I am, then tie Midnight’s reins loosely to the saddle. She’ll come back to me.”
Two looked frightened.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you, baby.”
“Two,” she said straightening. “We like our code names and none of us are babies, not even Five.” Then she was off smiling. She was on a mission.
Ten minutes later Number One showed up atop Midnight. She was carrying two rifles.
“Mrs. Adams said you might need these and me.”
He took the weapons. “Can you shoot?”
One made a face. “I’m the colonel’s daughter. I can shoot.”
Trapper had no doubt.
“So can Two and Three. The little two will learn in another year.”
They sat down behind a fallen log and watched the road. After ten minutes of silence One said, “Mrs. Adams wanted me to tell you that we’re all going back to the wagon if you want to wash in the stream when we get back.”
Trapper scratched his dirty hair. “You think I need to?”
“Yes. You do. We took a vote and it was unanimous.”
They waited until sunset and then they rode back to camp. Wherever the four men who’d passed were, they wouldn’t be riding back tonight. Maybe they were headed toward Jefferson. On horseback they’d make double the time he was making with a wagon. The road was more of a winding trail now, too uneven to chance at night.
His little nest of ladies was safe tonight.
When he got back, supper was almost ready.
Trapper handed One the rifles and told her and Two to keep watch while he walked down a slope to where the horses were grazing. The sun was setting, with just enough light to see the towel and soap a foot from the stream. His saddlebags were there also.
If he was going into town, even though it was probably little more than a trading post and a few huts, he’d clean up. Trapper stripped and dove in. The water was cold, so he didn’t waste any time. In ten minutes he was out of the water, dry, and putting on a clean set of clothes.
When he sat down by the fire for supper, each one of the girls walked past him and patted him on the shoulder. Number Four even kissed his cheek.
As they ate, he explained that tonight would be the first night he’d have a watch. After midnight he’d wake One and Two to stand guard while he slept a few hours. Emery said she’d take another two hours. Before dawn he’d take back over.
He felt they were safe tonight. They were too far from the trail for anyone to see their small fire. If a raid came, it would be after dawn.
To his surprise the girls asked questions. For them this might still seem like a game, but they wanted to know the rules.
If danger was coming their way, they needed to know what to do. Where to shoot to stop a man, but not kill him. How to hit a man twice their size and make him drop. How to read an attacker’s movements. All that he’d learned in the army about staying alive poured out. They would have to be his troops if trouble came.
“If you can’t convince them you’re meaner and bigger, all you have to do is act crazy. Anyone with sense is afraid of crazy. Remember, anything can be a weapon.”
Number Five crawled up in his lap and went to sleep, but the others listened and asked questions. They were little girls, too young to have to know all he said. But someday maybe they’d remember how to fight, and what he was teaching them might save their lives.
Chapter 7
The moon was only a sliver in the midnight sky when One and Two took over the watch. Trapper planned to stay awake, but he dozed, knowing they’d wake him if so much as a twig snapped.
Two hours later Emery took over the watch.
Trapper tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t with her so near. They’d been little more than polite strangers for two days. He couldn’t make himself wish he hadn’t seen her almost bare, but he did wish they could go back to being close. He liked looking forward to her light kiss on his cheek, and the way she leaned close to whisper something. He liked watching her and seeing her smile when she caught him doing just that.
After a while he sat up and looked at her across a dying fire. “You going to talk to me ever again?”
“I talked to you today.” She didn’t look at him.
“Pass the bread. Tell Number Five to wash her hands. Do you want the last of the coffee?”
When she didn’t comment, he added, “All that isn’t talking, Emery.”
She didn’t argue. She wasn’t even looking at him.
He tried again in a low voice. “I can’t figure out what I did wrong. I didn’t cause the rain or the storm. I didn’t take off your clothes or tell you to come out to help. I couldn’t act like I didn’t see something so beautiful.”
She was silent for a while, then she answered. “You are right. It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t think. It’s all my fault.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you. I’m
