Danny leaned over the churn. “Maybe we should check it.”
Will stopped, more grateful than he was willing to admit. “Good idea.”
Danny’s fingers trembled as Will tilted the yoke, but the boy opened the canister lid and looked inside. Then his head came up, and he beamed at Will. “Ice cream!”
“I’ll take it from here,” Alberta said, and she lifted the canister dripping from the ice and carried it to a wooden bench where her bowls waited. Danny and the older women followed.
Will climbed to his feet.
“Another fine rescue by the cavalry,” Kate said.
Will inclined his head. “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”
“I’m very grateful. Danny would have been so disappointed if we couldn’t get it to work.”
Will shook out his arms. “Glad to be of assistance. I was coming this way in any regard. I talked with Captain Harris. He accepted your kind offer.”
She squeezed her shoulders up as if she were as excited as her son. “Oh, wonderful! Then you’ll be with us all winter.”
The prospect of overwintering in Yellowstone had never delighted him, until now. “I will. That is, we all will.”
“I’m so glad.” Her eyes glowed. That smile pulled him closer. He bent his head. She moved to meet him.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Kate’s head snapped up.
“Gunfire,” Will said, gut dropping.
She met his gaze. “Poachers.”
11
Alberta, Danny, and Kate’s guests were so busy eating they didn’t seem to notice, but the thought of a poacher so close made Kate’s stomach bunch. Will started around the hotel, and she ran to pace him. “I’m coming with you.”
He pulled up short. “Too dangerous.”
“I’ve faced poachers before,” she informed him. “The greater danger is you or your men riding into a hot pool. Let me guide you.”
She thought he would refuse. His face was set and his eyes dark. But he snapped a nod. “You have ten minutes to change and mount. Can you do that?”
She whirled. “Danny—tell Caleb to saddle me a horse. Run!”
It was to her son’s credit that he didn’t argue. He shoved a dripping spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and sped for the barn. Kate ran for the inn, shouting instructions to Alberta as she went.
“I’m helping Lieutenant Prescott. Take care of Danny and the others while I’m gone.”
She flashed past her startled cook and guests into the inn.
Nine and a half minutes later, according to the pocket watch Toby had seldom consulted, she was standing beside her horse in front of the hotel, Will on the ground beside her and Private Smith mounted. Mrs. Pettijohn and Miss Pringle were seated on the veranda benches, a second helping of ice cream in their bowls, watching avidly, as if they’d come to listen to a band play in the city park. Alberta and Danny stood in the doorway, her hands braced on his thin shoulders.
Will braced his hands on Kate’s waist. “You sure about this?”
“Yes,” she said. “If you’d be so kind.”
He lifted her easily and set her on the sidesaddle. Kate adjusted her position and skirts, ordering her heart to slow as he stepped back.
“Have you heard any more shots?” she asked as he mounted.
“No,” he admitted, gathering the reins. “And I can’t even tell you which direction they came from.”
“We have three good grazing areas for game animals near us,” Kate said, turning Aster away from the hotel. “Across Tangled Creek and around that hill; to the northwest across the Firehole; and to the north, closer to your camp. I suggest we start with the nearest first.”
He nodded, and she urged her mount forward to start around the geyser field.
“I took the liberty of asking Caleb to ride to the Fire Hole and tell Franklin the situation,” Will said as they cantered across the dry, bleached soil. “He looked scared to death.”
“He’s just shy,” Kate said, leading them west toward the banks of Tangled Creek. “He and his parents toured the park a couple years ago, and he loved the area so much they asked Toby if he’d consider taking him on as help. He’s been a blessing with the animals.”
Conversation dropped off as they splashed through the creek’s warm waters and followed the curve of the pine-covered hill into the meadows beyond. Antelope raised their heads from the grass to stare a moment before bounding away.
“Not here,” Kate said. “If there had been gunfire, those antelope wouldn’t have waited until the second shot to bolt.”
“Agreed,” Will said, and he and Private Smith followed her up the banks of the creek to their next site.
Every moment felt too long, every yard too slow. True to its name, Tangled Creek trickled out in a wide fan to the Firehole River, creating a ford shallow enough for horses to cross. But the meadow on the other side was also empty of disturbance. The last of the season butterflies flitted over clumps of aster, their yellow wings bright against the blue.
“Not here either,” Will said, turning his face and his horse away from the bucolic scene.
Private Smith sighed.
Kate’s tension was too high to allow her a sigh. Perhaps they’d been mistaken. Perhaps the sound hadn’t been gunfire. She wanted to hope as she led them back across the river and to the northeast. But she felt as if something rode on her shoulder, weighing her down. The tight line of Will’s body told her he felt the same way.
They trotted out of a patch of chalk soil onto the meadows. Veined with tiny streams, the prairie stretched for acres until it reached the circuit road. She ought to have been able to spot a man standing, certainly a herd of any size.
She reined in. Will pulled up on one side, Private Smith on the
