“Why, Danny, you never said how handsome the lieutenant was,” she said, fluttering her lashes.
Danny looked up from his pie, fork in the golden crust. “Is he?”
Alberta’s gaze darted to Kate’s as if the cook was urging her to confirm the fact.
“Lieutenant Prescott has offered us help around the inn,” Kate said instead.
Alberta yanked out one of the chairs. “Well, that’s an answer to a prayer. You just sit right here, Lieutenant, and I’ll bring you the best pie you ever ate.”
Lips quirking as if he wasn’t sure how to respond to her welcome, he sat. Alberta bustled for the kitchen.
“Interior looks good,” he ventured as Danny dug into his pie.
Only because of the work she, Alberta, and the inn’s maids—Pansy, Sarah, and Ida—put in each day. There were always beds to air, linens to launder, dishes to wash, and floors to sweep. The white chalky dust from the geysers got into everything.
“We try,” Kate allowed, “but there are loose boards upstairs, and some of the mortar around the hearths needs replacing.”
“Make me a list,” he said.
He had no idea what he was offering.
Alberta returned and slipped a red-rimmed china plate down in front of him with one hand, extending a silver-plated fork with the other. “You take a bite and tell me if I’m a liar.”
He took the fork so cautiously it might have been a rattler. Alberta puffed out her chest as if she was holding her breath as he inserted the utensil into the flaky crust and brought the piece to his mouth, huckleberry juice dribbling a purple path across the plate.
He chewed a moment, then cocked his head. “You’re no liar.”
Alberta beamed at him.
Kate cleared her throat.
Alberta collected herself. “And one for you, Mrs. Tremaine. Right away.” The kitchen door swung shut behind her.
“No wonder your hotel is so busy,” Lieutenant Prescott said before forking up another mouthful.
Danny was halfway through his slice. “Really busy.”
“And aren’t we thankful for that?” Kate reminded him.
“Yes,” he said dutifully, but the word held considerable doubt.
“How long have you had the concession?” the lieutenant asked.
“This is our fourth season,” Kate confessed. “But we invested in the property before it was built. Captain Harris let us keep our lease until spring.”
Her annoyance at the decision must have sounded in her voice, for his fork paused as he hurried to assure her. “He’s reassessing every lease. He’ll decide come spring which to renew for ten years.”
“Ten years!” Oh, what stability. Kate leaned closer. “What’s his criteria?”
He shrugged, fork digging into the pie again. “Lack of complaints, compliance with the rules.”
Kate straightened. “We have always complied with the rules and more. And no superintendent ever heard a complaint about the service or quality of the Geyser Gateway. I mean to keep it that way.”
The cavalryman regarded her. “Did you approve of the previous superintendents?”
“Some,” Kate admitted. “Times have changed. Poachers, hunters, and vandals all moved in on the last two superintendents’ watch.”
“They’ll move out on ours,” he predicted.
She wanted to believe him, but she’d heard too many idealists claim what they’d do to help Yellowstone. Many left frustrated they couldn’t manage so vast a wilderness.
“We should agree on this deal,” she said as Alberta returned with her pie. Not quite as large as what she’d given to Danny or the cavalryman, Kate noticed as she sat.
As if Alberta had read her look, she tugged at one strap on the apron covering her broad chest. “We need to conserve if there’s to be enough for supper. We have thirty guests tonight, according to the book.”
The guest book on the front table listed everyone who had ever stayed at the Geyser Gateway. It held names of famous statesmen, artists, and natural philosophers. Kate’s favorites were the scrawled names of the children who came, eyes wide with wonder.
“Thirty guests plus the staff,” Kate confirmed.
With a nod, Alberta headed back to her domain. Lieutenant Prescott finished another bite of pie.
“I’ll make your list as soon as I can,” Kate told him. “What kind of help do you need from me?”
“I need to confirm the main places of interest in this area and the trails used to access them.”
It could take her days to ride around and show him all that. “I’ll draw you a map,” Kate said. “How many hours can you give me a day to work on the inn?”
His gaze went to Danny, who was scraping the last crumbs off the thick white china. “When I’m not on patrol, two or three.”
When was a cavalryman not on patrol? Was he trying to back out already? “How often will you be on patrol?”
“Four days out of every week, until the tourist season ends.”
“Early October, then.” Kate calculated in her head. “So, at least two dozen hours.”
“He could chop wood,” Danny said, glancing up at her, eyes bright.
How he tugged at her heart. And how easy it would be to let him do as he liked each day. But his future depended on him learning this business. And surviving.
“With you helping Caleb by stacking, I think we have a sufficient number of people working in that area at present,” she told him. “But six more cords should arrive in the next few weeks.”
Danny made a face and leaned closer to the cavalry officer. “And then we have to bring it in.”
A bit at a time to burn in the big stone fireplace. But that wood would stave off the chill of a Yellowstone winter, just as the coal in the coal shed fed Alberta’s big stove.
“So what do you have in mind for me?” Lieutenant Prescott asked her.
Was that a challenge she heard in his gravelly voice? That air of power might work on the privates under his command. She couldn’t be bothered. Already a dozen jobs cried out for her attention. She could set him to repairing the steps, straightening the shutters, replacing the cracked shakes on the roof. The kitchen chimney was smoking overly much, two of the guest room doors were sticking,
