“We were just fixing dinner,” Nadler told her as his man rushed toward the stove. “I hope you’ll join us.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she said with a smile. “I’d be delighted.”
Will could only assume the invitation included him as well.
As Rizzo set about frying the salt pork and pulling out slabs of hardtack, Quincy seized the only chair in the room, the slats missing from part of the back, and dragged it over to her. He whipped out his handkerchief and dusted off the battered seat. “Won’t you sit down, ma’am?”
Kate spread her riding skirt and sat. Nadler drew up a stump and perched at her right. Will edged out Zabel to do the same on her left.
The pork sizzled as Rizzo turned it, and the pungent scent permeated the room. Besides the stove, stumps, and single chair, the space boasted only a set of shelves along one wall, where they’d piled their canteens, rifles, and ammunition. Wood for the stove was mounded too close to the heat for Will’s comfort. He didn’t want to see what the sleeping arrangements looked like.
Which meant Kate couldn’t stay here.
He should have realized that. There would be no woman to play chaperone. He’d hoped the house might at least offer a private room with a locking door, but even that didn’t appear likely. As Nadler asked Kate all kinds of questions, Will tried to think of alternatives.
Rizzo filled a tin plate with salt pork and hardtack and offered it to Kate with a flourish. Quincy followed with a tin cup of coffee so brimming Will was afraid he’d spill it on himself or her. Kate accepted their offerings with a ready smile and a word of thanks. Nadler and the others went to fill plates as well. Will and Zabel had to make do with bowls, as all the plates were taken. And he wasn’t entirely sure that the crusty lump on the side of his bowl was from tonight’s meal.
As the cavalrymen settled on their stumps and bent over the food, Nadler stiffened.
“Hey!” he shouted, and everyone except Will and Kate jumped. “Remember your manners.”
Zabel and Quincy exchanged glances, clearly puzzled.
Nadler turned to Kate. “Mrs. Tremaine, would you say grace?”
She bowed her head, and the others followed suit. So did Will.
“Dear Lord,” she said, voice clear over the crackle of the stove, “thank you for the food and company you’ve blessed us with. Please protect these brave cavalrymen as they protect your marvelous creation. Amen.”
“Amen,” they all rumbled. But Zabel and Quincy waited until Kate had taken a bite before eating again.
“I hear good things about your hotel,” Nadler was saying, mouth half full.
Kate looked pointedly away and attempted to pierce the tough meat with her fork.
“The Geyser Gateway is one of the best hotels in the park,” Will told him. “The best pie too.”
She smiled at him, and he felt very clever. Quincy sighed gustily.
“Well, we have one of the best stations in the park,” Nadler countered. “I hear you’ll be overwintering in a cabin a quarter this size.” He popped a piece of hardtack into his mouth and commenced chewing.
“Snug as a bug in a rug,” Quincy jibed.
“Actually,” Kate said, “Captain Harris has agreed to allow Lieutenant Prescott and his men to overwinter at my inn.”
Nadler’s jaw tightened, and he stabbed his fork into the last of the salt pork so hard metal rang against metal. “Is that right? How nice.”
“You need another man at the Lower Geyser Basin, Lieutenant?” Rizzo piped up, only to cringe as his fellow cavalrymen glared at him.
“I couldn’t ask for better men than I already have,” Will assured him.
Kate set her half-finished meal aside and rose. Nadler and Quincy shot to their feet, Rizzo and Zabel a heartbeat behind. Will felt a tug of annoyance at being last.
“Thank you for dinner, gentlemen,” she said with a look all around. “Allow me to help clean up.”
“Sure,” Rizzo said, tossing his nearly empty plate aside and rushing toward the stove. “You can help me. I’ll just start the water heating.”
Nadler scowled at him before replacing the look with a smile as he turned to Kate. He picked up her plate and utensils. “Nonsense. You’re our guest, ma’am. Zabel can help Rizzo.”
“Sure,” Zabel said, but his face darkened as the sergeant shoved the plate and utensils at him.
“You just sit back and rest,” Nadler continued to Kate with the fatuous smile Will was coming to hate. “That must have been quite a ride for you all the way from the hotel. I’m surprised Lieutenant Prescott asked you to endure it.”
Oh, was he barking at the wrong tree.
Another lady might have fluttered her lashes, collapsed with a sigh, and lamented the rough life on the frontier. Kate merely gave him a look that would have made Danny sit straighter.
“The ride was far easier than my usual work at the hotel,” she informed him. “Besides, Lieutenant Prescott didn’t ask me to come along. I put him and Private Smith at a forced march after that poacher.”
The news didn’t change Nadler’s approach. “Well, you don’t have to worry about him bothering you ever again. We’ll catch him and run him right out of the park.”
“Until he reoutfits himself and returns,” Kate said. “I do wish Congress would give you boys the right to arrest miscreants.”
Nadler hitched up his trousers by the belt loops. “We’re cavalrymen, Mrs. Tremaine, not constables.”
“The Wyoming constables had more power,” Kate argued.
Now Nadler’s face was darkening. He might be slow, but he was starting to realize he was outclassed.
Will lifted his head. “Sergeant, Privates, see to your duties. Mrs. Tremaine, may I have a word?”
“Officers have all the luck,” someone muttered.
“Certainly, Lieutenant,” Kate said, but she followed him no farther than the door before stopping.
It was probably best they stayed within sight of the others. He wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression about his relationship with her.
“If you’re going to advise
