“Stop,” she said, and he jerked upright. “Back away from the formation.”
He looked over at her, nose so high she wondered the sulfurous fumes didn’t flow up it into his brain, however small his brain might be.
“I am not accustomed to taking orders from the female help,” he informed her.
“Then it’s surprising you’ve survived this long,” Kate countered. “It’s not safe for you out here, and I fear the geologic features aren’t safe from you. Come back to the hotel.”
“When I’m finished,” he snapped. He turned for the formation, where the first three letters of his last name had been etched in the hard-baked mud.
Could her temper climb any higher? “Do you know how many years it will take to cover that?”
“Decades, one would hope,” he replied, intent on chiseling the next letter.
Oh, for her rifle! But then, perhaps she shouldn’t have a gun in her grip when she was already tempted to strangle him with her bare hands!
“That’s enough, mister.”
The gravelly voice behind him made her guest turn. Lieutenant Prescott stepped up beside her, but his gaze was on the vandal.
“I am not under your command, sir,” Sir Winston said with a curl of his lip.
“No,” Lieutenant Prescott allowed, “but an Act of Congress gives the Army jurisdiction over this park. I hereby arrest you for defacing government property.”
Kate wanted to shout, to cheer, to wrap her arms around him and hug him close.
Well, maybe not that.
She allowed herself only a grin as he collared the still-protesting Sir Winston and forcibly marched him off the field.
“This is an outrage,” her guest sputtered. “I am a British citizen. Your laws hold no power over me.”
“I don’t think your queen would see it that way,” Lieutenant Prescott told him as they approached the hotel. Elijah, loading trunks onto the stagecoach, raised a brow as they passed, and Caleb, holding the horses, stared outright.
“Are you going to lock him up, Lieutenant Prescott?” Danny asked from the porch.
Sir Winston shrugged out of his grip. “He is not. I refuse to be manhandled.”
“Too late,” Kate said, unable to stifle her glee. “I’ll send your regrets to England.” She turned to the lieutenant. “I know you haven’t had time to build a jail yet, but you can use the laundry or the root cellar to hold him if you like.”
Sir Winston took a step back. “Root cellar?”
Lieutenant Prescott inclined his head, face firm but the faintest light brightening his moss-colored eyes. “You are too kind, Mrs. Tremaine, but I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you or your staff. It will have to be one of our tents, though the accommodations are sadly lacking compared to your fine establishment. I’m not sure we can spare a bed, but since Sir Winston is so fond of the formations, he likely won’t mind sleeping on the ground.”
“Oh, I say,” Sir Winston protested.
Lord and Lady Cavell and their daughter must have heard something of the ruckus, for they came out onto the veranda, their servants right behind. Her ladyship and her daughter gasped, hands pressed to the fine muslin over their chests.
His lordship stepped forward. “See here. What is this all about?”
Lieutenant Prescott kept his gaze on his quarry. “This fellow decided to carve his name into government property. There’s a penalty for that.”
Sir Winston threw his hands in the air. “It was only a mud pot!”
Lord Cavell snorted. “What can it possibly matter if he carves his name on that?”
Kate glared up at him. “The park is set to claim more than four thousand visitors this season. How do you think those formations would look with four thousand names carved on them?”
“Well, I . . .” He glanced from Kate to the lieutenant, then squared his shoulders. “I see your point. Be a good chap, Winston, and apologize.”
Sir Winston looked to the man he obviously hoped might be his father-in-law one day and swallowed. “Yes, of course. A terrible mistake. It won’t happen again.”
Kate wasn’t sure she believed him, but she looked to Lieutenant Prescott. His impassive face gave away none of his thoughts.
“As housing you would inconvenience my men,” he said, “I’m inclined to let you off with a warning. But if I hear one more complaint about your behavior—from Mrs. Tremaine, her staff, or any other occupant of the park—I will see that a formal reprimand is sent to your queen. Understand?”
Sir Winston nodded so quickly he might have dizzied himself. “Certainly. I’ll just get on the coach now.” He hurried to suit word to action.
Danny applauded. So did Miss Cavell and her mother.
Lieutenant Prescott’s brows rose in obvious surprise, but Kate didn’t have a chance to see the rest of his face before she wrapped her arms around him and hugged.
Heat rushed up Will, and not just because of the applause from the hotel guests and Danny. Kate Tremaine was hugging him as if he’d done something tremendous, as if he was worthy of her admiration.
Gently, he pulled back. “Thank you, ma’am. But I was only doing my duty.”
The glow in her gray eyes said otherwise. “And nicely done at that. Yellowstone has its own knight in shining armor.”
She wouldn’t say that if she knew the truth about him.
Miss Cavell and her mother came down the steps, Lord Cavell right behind and the servants trailing after. The ladies simpered at him as if he was a great hero. The manservant offered him a nod of approval.
“Valiantly done, sir,” Miss Cavell said, going so far as to lay a hand on his arm.
“Don’t be late for your coach, dear,” Mrs. Tremaine said.
Miss Cavell’s smile faded, but she suffered herself to continue with her mother.
“Lieutenant,” her father said as he passed.
Will watched as Elijah helped them all into the stagecoach. The things were designed so that the windows held no glass or shutters. They could seat six to eight tightly packed inside, while others could ride on the roof. He’d seen as many as
