Ahead, the pines opened up again to a meadow on either side of the road, leading to the Little Firehole River. To the left, a dirt track ran toward the hotel. The two-story block squatted among scattered pines, windows staring at the road as if awaiting the next guests.
“Including the two cabins,” Kate said, “the Fire Hole can house two dozen guests, give or take. You’ll need to keep an eye on them. The Hendersons run the place now, but before they arrived, George Marshall wasn’t too serious about enforcing the rules where hunting and alcohol were concerned. This way.”
She moved out in front of Will, then turned away from the ford of the stream and followed the sparkling waters into the meadows beyond. Pines ringed the space, perfuming the area with their clean scent. The air held the hint of fall, sharp, crisp. Not long now.
Will drew level with her again. “What brings tourists out this way?” he asked.
“Some for the fish,” she acknowledged. “That stream carries brown trout. Others come to remember. Your General Howard chased Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce up this way in 1877.”
“Troop M was ordered to remain at Fort Colville.” His gaze continued up the creek as if he could spy the column of Indians seeking freedom. “Or we might have been part of the campaign.”
He didn’t sound sad to have missed the opportunity to harass the tribe. She appreciated that. “They came within a mile of the Geyser Gateway, according to Mr. Carter, the original owner.”
“He was fortunate. I heard there were a few casualties in Yellowstone.”
“Fewer than what the Nez Perce sustained before or after.” Kate nodded to the meadow. “This is another good spot for elk and bison. I generally refuse to let my guests head this way with guns, but I suspect the folks at the Fire Hole might feel differently. And they don’t always serve beef in their stew.”
“Good to know.”
“Ma! Look!”
Kate turned to see what Danny had found, and her heart nearly flew from her chest. She couldn’t breathe as the bear ambled out of the woods.
Will had seldom been this close to a bear, but he knew how to respond should he encounter one. Bess noticed before the other horses. Her step stuttered, and she pulled at the reins as if trying to escape. Upwind of them and across the creek, the black bear’s tan muzzle twitched as its head swung in their direction.
He glanced at Kate, expecting a lecture. Her eyes were wide and wild, her face white. Before he could speak, she wheeled her mount and rode for her son. “Danny! With me. Now.”
The other horses started balking, tossing their heads. The bear took a few steps into the meadow.
“Mrs. Tremaine,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Slow your mount.”
She’d already pulled her son off his pony and cradled him against her, but she reined in. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths.
“Smith, take the pony’s reins and settle your mount. I’ll deal with Mrs. Tremaine and Danny. Turn slowly and move away. No more than a walk, Private.”
“Are you quite certain we should put that thing at our backs?” Smith’s baritone voice sounded higher than it should.
“I want to give it no reason to engage,” Will said, turning Bess. When Kate didn’t move, he reached out to shake her reins. “Mrs. Tremaine, an orderly retreat. Now.”
“Ma?” Danny asked, voice trembling.
That seemed to wake her. She turned her horse and rode beside Will. Smith took the lead, pulling the pony. They edged along the creek toward the circuit road. Though Will glanced back, the bear did not follow. He thought everyone breathed easier when they reached the ford again.
“Apparently we should expect to encounter bears in this area,” Smith said, then he paused, as if waiting for Kate to confirm it.
She said nothing.
“Black bears, to be precise,” Will supplied for her. “A grizzly has a hump on its back. Correct, Mrs. Tremaine?”
She hugged her son tight. “Yes.”
“My pa met a grizzly,” Danny said in a whimper. “He never came back.”
“My condolences, General Tremaine,” Smith said softly.
Kate didn’t respond.
Will wanted to gather her close, hold her as she held Danny. Had she been with her husband when the bear had attacked or only found the body later? Either way, it was no wonder the sight of any bear had shaken her.
The best he could do was give her time to recover her usual composure.
“May I help Danny remount?” he asked gently.
She blinked, then drew in a deep breath. “Yes, thank you.”
Will dismounted, came around, and held up his arms. Danny slid into them. His face was still peaked, and he clung to Will as he carried him to the pony.
“A fine animal, General Tremaine,” he said, giving the pony a pat as Danny settled himself into place. “She must have a fine name.”
“Buttercup,” Danny admitted, accepting the reins from Smith. “But I think she’d be better named Lightning.”
Will refused to smile at the appellation for the placid pony. “Good name for any mount.”
Smith raised his brows as Will moved back to Bess. Before mounting, he put a hand on Kate’s skirt. “All right, Mrs. Tremaine?”
She drew another breath, as if she couldn’t get enough of the cool air. “Yes, Lieutenant Prescott. Thank you.”
With a nod, he swung up into the saddle and turned Bess south.
Kate rode beside him, gaze on the distance. A rabbit bounded across the road and paused on the verge, ears sticking up from the tufts of grass. Kate didn’t comment. To the southwest, steam rose among the pines. She didn’t name the pool or offer to show it to them.
“Private Smith,” he said as they cleared the meadow, “General Tremaine has a skill for reconnaissance. Ask him about the pie at his establishment.”
“A true delicacy, I take it?” Smith asked behind them.
“The best in Yellowstone,” Danny bragged. “I bet Alberta would give you a piece. If you help me
