“Peaceful,” he murmured, as if determined not to break the calm.
It was too calm. No birds sang. Nothing moved except the grass. Yellowstone seemed to be holding its breath. Kate held hers as well.
She craned her neck to see as far as she could, then let out her breath. There. That dark lump near the far side of the grassland. A lone bison, perhaps? Had it escaped the poacher?
“Careful,” she said, relaxing back onto the saddle. “Head east, and watch for holes. One wrong step, and you’ll lame your horse.”
They picked their way across the grass, Kate’s senses alert to any oddity. The lump didn’t move as they approached. They were still a good twenty feet away when she realized why.
She reined in again, stomach roiling.
Private Smith frowned as he and Will joined her. “What is that?”
Kate swallowed her bile. “That’s what’s left after a poacher took the best parts of a bison. No head, no skin, no hooves, no tail.”
Smith covered his nose with one hand and looked away.
Will’s face hardened. “That means it’s someone who knows what such things bring at market,” he said, voice grim. “The flies are just beginning to swarm. We can’t have missed him by much.”
Kate looked away as well. “The easiest escape from the park from here would be the west entrance.”
“Unless he wants more,” Will said. He glanced around the meadow, then nodded to his man. “Check the ground around the kill. See if you can find any sign of a trail.”
Smith eyed him. “You assume I have any skill in that area.”
“Now, Private,” Will barked.
Smith swung down and circled the kill.
Will put a hand on Kate’s arm. “We’ll catch who did this.”
She nodded, but she didn’t trust herself to speak. The loss of the bison pressed down on her, making breath difficult. So few left. Would they pass from this earth before Danny was grown?
“That way.” Smith rose and pointed toward the north. “Even I can see the blood trail.” At a look from Will, he remounted, and they headed in that direction.
Pines edged the prairie, and Kate wasn’t sure whether the needles littering the ground would mask the trail. But drops of blood on shrub and rock made it easy to follow the direction their poacher had gone, until they reached a bend in the Firehole River. The trail ended at the near bank. Here the river was narrower, rockier, the waters desperate to run.
Will’s eyes narrowed, but not at the rushing waters white with foam, Kate thought.
“You know who it is,” she guessed.
“I imagine all poachers leave a trail of blood from their prey,” he said, but his gaze remained watchful. “Where do we go from here?”
“He won’t be able to follow the river much longer,” Kate advised. “The Firehole cuts through a canyon north of here. No place for a horse to travel. He’ll have to risk the circuit road, at least until he reaches the Madison.”
“Show us,” he said, and she turned her horse away from the river.
But a short distance up the road, she realized her mistake. No trail of blood led them onward. No dust cloud on the horizon told of a horse ahead of them. They reached the bridge over the Madison River before Will reined in.
“Lost him.” Kate heard the bitterness in her voice. “He must have entered the Firehole. Who knows where he came out again?”
Will turned to Smith. “We need to notify the detachment at Riverside in case he’s making for the entrance.”
“We need to notify the detachment at Norris too,” Smith replied. “He could just as easily be heading their direction. He’d find more opportunities to sell his ill-gotten goods to the north.”
Will shook his head. “We can’t go both directions. One of us must escort Mrs. Tremaine home.”
Kate straightened in the saddle, shoulders protesting. “Nonsense. Norris is just as close as the inn from here. I won’t let you lose this villain on my account.”
Will leaned closer. “Riding in plain sight with the two of us might not raise comment, but coming alone with me to Norris might.”
Kate waved a hand. “I’m a widowed woman, and well known in these parts. My reputation should be safe. Private Smith can go on to Riverside. All he has to do is follow the road. I’ll show you the way to Norris, Will. I know a shortcut.”
Sergeant Nadler had three men left at Norris, Will learned when they arrived a short while later. The others were fighting the fire. The tall blond seemed glad to know about the poacher but even gladder for the company when Will and Kate arrived at his station just as the sun was setting behind the mountains to the west.
The detachment at Norris had been housed in a rough frame house that had previously belonged to one of the civilian assistant superintendents. Nadler immediately ushered Kate into the main room, where a potbellied stove was smoking. His men scrambled to attention from where they’d been sitting on stumps they would probably end up burning for heat before spring came. Two of the rooms leading off likely served as bedchambers, the third for storage.
“Mrs. Tremaine,” Nadler said after Will had introduced her and told him their mission. “Welcome to our humble abode.” He held her hand far longer than Will thought appropriate. “Allow me to introduce my men. Privates Rizzo, Zabel, and Quincy.”
The two black-haired young privates and the older blond stood at attention, gazes forward and chests thrust out, as if she were the head of the Army come for a surprise inspection. Their scruffy beards and dirty uniforms said they either hadn’t been able to find laundry and bathing facilities or had decided against them.
“Gentlemen,” she said as pleasantly as if she were meeting Lord Cavell and his party at a fine restaurant. “I appreciate all you’re doing to keep the park safe.”
Nadler released her to cuff Rizzo on the shoulder, then jerked his
