“Pay attention,” Kate ordered him, and he swung back around and loped forward.
“If you look in the guidebook you brought,” Kate told Will as they skirted a hill covered in pine, “you’ll likely find something called the Grand Prismatic Spring. I’m not sure whether it falls in your jurisdiction or in the area patrolled by the detachment at Old Faithful.”
He wasn’t either. “Popular stop for tourists?” he asked as they reached a bridle path leading south.
“Not as much as Old Faithful, and not all stages stop there, but it should be protected too.”
“I’ll work that out with the corporal in charge at Old Faithful.”
Up ahead on the right, across the trickle she’d called Fairy Creek, the meadow lapped into a draw between two hills. “What’s in there?” Will asked.
She turned her back on the space and nodded to their left. “It’s what’s over there that should concern you: a series of small lakes—Goose Lake, Feather Lake, and the Goslings.”
Will chuckled. “Someone liked geese.”
She glanced at him with a smile. “I’m not sure why. But they are a popular destination for those who like a good stroll.”
They followed the western edge of Goose Lake, the murky waters dark and brooding. Danny sped up as they continued south. Will thought Kate might order him back, but she didn’t appear too concerned. Her gaze was bright, smile pleasant. Well, the grasslands did make it easy to keep an eye on the boy.
“This way!” he called, stepping off the path to start up a hill dotted by pines.
Will and Kate followed. The way was steep and slick with fallen needles. Will turned to help Kate. She passed him without comment.
“What, are you part mountain goat?” he asked her back.
Her laughter floated down to him. “Having trouble keeping up, Lieutenant?”
“I’m in the cavalry, not the infantry,” he reminded her, but he managed to reach the top without slipping more than twice.
“Look,” Danny said, pointing, as if Will could have missed the rainbow of colors below.
Will’s first thought was that Danny was right. The formation was huge. Its silver-gray deposits spread out over yards below him. The center of the massive pool was a blue so deep it was nearly purple, melding into rings of lighter blue, green, and yellow. At the edge, plumes of orange streaked out like the rays of the sun. Smaller pools huddled around it, dwarfed by its magnificence. And the entire area gave off a curtain of steam that fluttered on the breeze.
Will shook his head. “How does something like that come to be?”
“Men of science travel through now and again,” Kate said, voice soft. “They talk about hot water and minerals and rocks reacting to each other. Doesn’t make this one whit less amazing.”
“I want to throw a rock in it,” Danny said dreamily. “Right in the middle.”
“Daniel Tobias Tremaine,” Kate scolded. “We do not throw anything in the thermal features.”
He hung his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Will nudged his shoulder. “Maybe we could see whether the Firehole River needs a few more rocks some evening.”
Danny looked to his mother. “Could we, Ma?”
“The banks are lined with rocks that used to be in the river,” Kate acknowledged. “Putting them back in shouldn’t hurt anything.”
Danny grinned.
They descended the hill, all three of them sliding at times, and set off on the path once more.
“Is that something all men grow up wanting to do?” Kate asked as Danny ranged ahead once more. “Throw rocks and sticks?”
“Into things, over things, onto things,” Will said. “I’ve never known a man or boy who didn’t.”
“No wonder we have to protect Yellowstone,” she muttered.
“Now, you can’t tell me you never had the urge,” Will said, glancing her way. The walk had loosened her hair. The braid had come free of the bun and was hanging down her back, tendrils of black curling against her cheeks.
“Never,” she said, nose in the air.
“And you never stuck your finger in Alberta’s cooking either, I suppose.”
Pink climbed in her cheeks. “Well, maybe once or twice.”
“Thrown a snowball at someone?”
She grinned at him. “Guess you’ll find out this winter.”
All at once, he wished for snow.
“Up here!” Danny called, and Kate and Will hastened their steps.
The trail came out at the foot of a rough gray cliff. Steep hills covered in pine narrowed in on the bowl at the cliff’s base. Over the top tumbled a thin line of water, which plunged into a pool below. Behind the spray, the cliff had been eroded into a cave.
Danny ran to stand in the mist, the silvery drops all but obscuring him.
Kate stopped near the edge of the pool, and Will paused beside her, watching the water fall.
“You can see why they named it Fairy Falls,” she said. “The water’s so fine and misty, not like at the Falls of the Yellowstone. Those have power. You can hear the roar a mile away. This has its own quiet beauty.”
“So do you.” The words were out before he could think better of them, but he had no urge to call them back. Her eyes, as misty as the falls, widened as he bent his head toward hers.
15
Will was kissing her—softly, tenderly, as if she was impossibly precious. No one had ever kissed her that way before, full of wonder, awe. She wanted to bask in the moment, float in the feeling of bliss.
“Ew,” Danny said. “You’re kissing.”
Will broke away from her, cheeks reddening. But his gaze remained on hers, searching. He’d taken a risk, and he wasn’t sure how she’d react.
Neither was she. She hadn’t invited his kiss, but she couldn’t regret such a marvel any more than she would regret a rainbow over the Lower Geyser Basin.
Still, she had to say something, at least to Danny.
“Men and women kiss to show their regard for each other,” she told her son where he stood beside the base of the waterfall. “I greatly admire Lieutenant Prescott. And he admires me.” She eyed Will.
He nodded, still looking a
