“Hey, Soldier!” Another man ducked out from under the pines. Short and burly, he was surely one of the tourists staying at the Fire Hole Hotel. Will had had to warn him about hunting only yesterday. He was so excited now he didn’t appear to notice Will standing beside Smith or Franklin nearby.
“You were right,” he said to Smith, round face breaking into a grin. “This was much better than a rod. Those fish are jumping clean through the opening into the net.”
Smith didn’t look the least abashed at being caught poaching. He straightened to attention. “Permission to retrieve dinner, sir.”
“Denied,” Will snapped. He raised his voice and stepped out around Bess so the tourist wouldn’t be able to ignore him. “Park rules prohibit fishing by any means but line and hook. Release those fish, or I’m putting you both under arrest.”
The tourist pointed at Smith. “But he said it would be all right.”
Franklin shook his head in obvious disbelief that his comrade would be so brazen.
“Private Smith is mistaken,” Will clipped out. “I suggest you’d be wise to follow my orders instead of his.”
Smith sidled around Will. “I’ll just release the fish, sir. Come on, Adams.” He grabbed his crony’s arm and tugged him toward the pines and the river beyond. Franklin swung up into the saddle and moved his horse away from the picket line.
Will gritted his teeth. How was he to protect Yellowstone as he’d promised Kate if he couldn’t even control his own men?
As if Bess sensed his frustration, she puffed out a sigh.
Will climbed into the saddle and joined Franklin. Right now, the odds were against them successfully completing their mission over the winter. He already knew one alternative that promised greater success, though he’d have to convince Captain Harris of its wisdom.
But first he had to convince Kate.
10
Mr. Yates, the circuit rider, arrived Saturday evening and begged dinner. Will Prescott did not. Kate tried to tell herself it was all to the good. Will disturbed her, made her reconsider her choices. Besides, he wouldn’t be in her life long. No need to give him any more of her time than necessary.
But her heart still bounded as happily as an antelope when he knocked at the kitchen door just after breakfast on Sunday.
She was finishing the dishes so Alberta and the others could attend services when he poked his head in. The cavalry sabers on his hat winked a welcome.
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” she called. “Here for breakfast? I haven’t turned out the oatmeal yet.”
He removed his hat as he came fully into the kitchen. “Thank you, ma’am, but I’ve had breakfast. I came to talk to you.”
She set the dish she’d been rinsing on the towels to dry, but her pulse sped as if she’d run to Old Faithful and back. “Oh? About what?”
“Supplies and provisions,” he said, and she nearly sighed.
What was wrong with her? Did she want him to say he was here to court her?
Yes.
No!
“Having trouble in that regard?” she asked aloud.
“Too much.” He came to join her by the table. “Park rules forbid hunting, as you know. We weren’t issued fishing gear. A man can only take so much salt pork. Yesterday I caught one of my privates fishing, with an improvised net.”
Kate winced. “I thought better of Private Franklin.”
“It wasn’t Franklin,” he said. “But it might as well have been. If I’m having this kind of trouble already, I don’t like to think about overwintering in the field. Six men in a ten-by-ten cabin—”
“For six months,” Kate reminded him.
He gazed at the ceiling as if begging heaven for help. “Six months of salt pork and hardtack with no windows you can open for light in a space smaller than this kitchen. Someone will break.”
She could imagine. Toby had rarely survived a day or two before having to get out, sometimes on snowshoes. But he’d had a spacious, warm hotel and Alberta’s cooking waiting on his return.
“So you’ll need to leave,” she said, wondering why her voice suddenly sounded so leaden.
“Actually, I’d like to propose to Captain Harris that we stay,” he said, gaze meeting hers. “With you.”
Kate stared at him. “What?”
He set his hat on the table and held up both hands. “Hear me out. We’ll be given food for the winter.”
“Salt pork and hardtack,” she repeated, unable to keep the revulsion from her voice.
“I’m sure Alberta could make even that taste good. Better than anything we’d try. My point was that we might not be as much of a drain on your resources as you might think.”
Kate put her hands on her hips. “You forget. I’ve seen how your men eat. You’d clean me out in a month.”
“Then we’ll help you put up more,” he said, lowering his hands so cautiously she might have had her rifle trained on him. “The inn will be empty of guests—you said so yourself. We could stay in the rooms.”
“Which have no method of heating,” she informed him.
“Two men to a room ought to heat it enough to get by,” he said, and she knew he was right. They could keep the place warm enough just to bundle up for sleeping, then spend the days in the heated salon.
“We’d still patrol when we could to prevent hunters from taking advantage of the quiet times,” he continued as if he could see her resolve weakening. “We’d help with food preparation, cleaning, wood chopping, any indoor maintenance, the care and feeding of the stock.”
“The stock.” Kate seized on the word. “You’d have to put your horses in the barn. I didn’t plan on that much feed.”
“The Army always feeds its horses, Kate,” he said, “sometimes better than its men. With your permission, I’d also like to propose to Captain Harris that he pay you a stipend to house us and them. It wouldn’t be much, perhaps three dollars a month per man and his mount. But we might survive the winter, and you might come out ahead.”
Kate
