He glanced up at Will. “Another one?”
He could almost see the weight on the child’s shoulders. He knew the feeling. He’d had to care for a mother grown weary from work after his father had died in the Civil War. How many times had he glanced out the window at other boys playing? He’d run off to join the military as soon as he was old enough. That wasn’t the last time he’d think only of himself. But not anymore.
He saluted the boy. “Lieutenant Prescott, reporting for duty, sir.”
The boy giggled. By the way Mrs. Tremaine smiled, she could do with hearing the sweet sound more often.
“I’m not a sir,” Danny said. “Ma is.”
He could well believe Mrs. Tremaine warranted a salute as well as she turned his way, face coloring. “I think your business here is done, Lieutenant.”
He ought to agree. He’d been riding by when he’d spotted Ponsonby out among the paint pots. The rest of his men were setting up their tents to the north, near the Fire Hole Hotel. He never liked it when he couldn’t see them, though this batch was handpicked and ought to be trustworthy. But an audacious idea had presented itself. He shouldn’t trust it either, but it might help him, his men, Mrs. Tremaine, and her son.
“I heard a rumor about the huckleberry pie at this establishment,” he said. “I’d be neglecting my duty if I didn’t try a slice.”
“Our cook Alberta makes good pie,” Danny agreed. He tugged on his mother’s arm. “We should give him a piece. He’s sort of a guest.”
Mrs. Tremaine readjusted the rifle under her arm. He’d have given a lot to know what was going on in her mind as she glanced from him to her son and back again.
“Go tell Alberta to cut a slice,” she finally told the boy.
His eyes lit. “A big slice?”
Her mouth turned up. “A big slice.”
“For me too?”
She laughed. “For you too. But you must save me a bite.”
“Deal.” He turned and ran for the hotel.
Kate Tremaine leveled her gaze on Will again, deadlier than the rifle she’d pointed at him earlier. “All right, Lieutenant. What do you want?”
He’d never been known for charm, but he had to try.
“You obviously care about this park,” he told her, “or you wouldn’t have come after me. If I’m to protect this part of Yellowstone, I need a guide.”
“Plenty of men will hire on for that,” she allowed. “I could recommend some.”
“I’m not authorized to hire anyone,” Will explained. “I need a volunteer.”
She shook her head. “With winter coming soon? No one has time to work for free.”
“What about pay in kind?” he pressed. “I do a favor for them, they do a favor for me.”
She wiggled her lips a moment. “Most men out here don’t much approve of favors. That’s why they came West—for the independence.”
Most men, but maybe not one woman. “But you have a hotel that must need work,” he replied. “As you said, winter’s coming.”
She bristled. He held her gaze, willing her to realize the truth of his statement. If she let him help, her son could be a boy again, and Will might find a little peace. The good Lord knew he needed that.
He stuck out his hand. “Deal?”
She stared at it, mouth once more working. He could almost feel the pride, distrust, and need colliding inside her. Finally, she took his hand, and her touch ricocheted up his arm to his heart.
“Deal,” she said.
And Will could only wonder what he’d just gotten himself into.
2
What had she gotten herself into?
Kate glanced at Lieutenant Prescott as they followed Danny into the hotel. His hat was tucked under one arm, his head slightly bowed, but he still walked across the plank floor with the command of a military officer. Would he take her direction about what needed to be fixed at the hotel? Since Toby’s passing, she had been in charge of the Geyser Gateway. She’d managed most of the work even when Toby had been alive, truth be told. But to enlist the aid of a stranger?
She shook herself. He was a means to an end. She, Alberta, the three maids, and young Caleb, who kept the animals and grounds, were worn enough as it was. And she wasn’t making enough of a profit to hire the work done, if she could find someone willing to come into the park this late in the year to work. She could only hope those shoulders were as strong as they looked.
And his offer was as honest as it sounded.
She caught him glancing around, slight frown gathering. What did he see to cause concern? The Geyser Gateway salon had high ceilings with massive wood beams holding an oil lamp chandelier. She’d recently lowered, cleaned, and refilled the lamps herself, so they glowed with a golden light. The fireplace was of stones gathered from the Firehole River, the grays, rusts, and tans complementing the wood of the walls. The burgundy upholstery on the two curved-back sofas flanking the hearth had been brushed, the blue-and-burgundy-patterned rug on the floor beaten. Through a wide archway directly ahead, the six tables—four big enough to seat eight guests apiece—were draped in smooth white linen Pansy had ironed only yesterday, and most of the ladderback chairs stood ready to receive their guests for dinner.
Alberta Guthrie had Danny at one of the smaller dining tables with a generous slice of pie in front of him. The cook had been working at the Geyser Gateway when Kate and Toby had taken over management of the property, and Kate had never regretted keeping her on. There was something warm and welcoming about Alberta, from her ample figure swathed in calico and a voluminous apron to her flyaway silver hair. She aimed a broad smile at the cavalryman, deepening the wrinkles around her mouth and bronze-colored eyes, as he
