One, three, five, ten. Kate counted the shaggy heads of the bison. Only twenty individuals, all told, but the bulls were off on their own now.
“Hey!” she called. “Hey! Wake up and move! They’re coming!”
The lead female, who Toby had named Big Bertha, heaved herself to her feet and chuffed at Kate, nostrils flaring as she sniffed the cool morning air. Kate’s heart started pounding, but she held her ground. This wasn’t a grizzly. These were old friends, even if they were big enough and wild enough to harm her. The bison could charge without warning, trample and gore her in seconds.
Bertha deigned to puff at her sister bison. One by one, the others rose too, rough hides dark in the pearly light. Kate thought it was more the day’s advance than her encouragement that made them begin to amble up the grass for the farther meadow through the trees.
“Go on, go on,” she urged them, daring to follow behind. “This is your home, but we don’t have to let anyone else know.”
Bertha looked back at her, eyes bright, and Kate froze. Slowly, she bowed to the beast, arms spread. “I mean you no harm. I just want to keep you safe.”
She glanced up to find Bertha had dismissed her, leading her group in a stately retreat until they disappeared beyond the pines.
Kate exhaled, sagging. Once Will and the others arrived, the bison would stay away for a while. That’s what had happened every time Toby had grown boisterous in their presence. He’d gradually learned the great beasts didn’t appreciate his enthusiasm for them. These meadows were the only place her irrepressible husband had been able to sit still and listen.
Now, to eliminate as much of their presence as possible.
She could do little about the fresh buffalo chips along the edge of the meadow, but she gathered the dry patties into her knapsack. There was a good-sized wallow on the southern edge, left by the bulls earlier in the season, the hollow dusty and raw. Maybe she could keep the game from including that area or claim the wallow was an old artifact. With a nod, she headed back toward the hotel. She was between the hills when she noticed movement among the trees ahead.
Kate straightened her spine and angled to meet him.
“Good morning, Will,” she said as if they were greeting each other on the hotel veranda. “You must take this game seriously to be out so early.”
He regarded her, the brim of his dun wool hat shadowing his eyes. “I might say the same for you.”
Kate forced a shrug. “I was just out collecting fuel left from days past. See?” She opened the mouth of her sack and aimed it his way.
He recoiled. “Please tell me Alberta doesn’t cook her pies with that.”
“We only use it when wood or coal is scarce,” Kate assured him, cinching the sack closed again. “And they don’t smell nearly as much as you would think. But you’ll be thankful for them when it’s twenty below and snowing and you don’t have to go out and chop wood.”
His gaze went beyond her. “So, this is the area you put off-limits. Anything I should know?”
Nothing she was willing to tell him. “No. I glanced at the meadow Lieutenant Kingman wants to use. The grass isn’t too high, and I didn’t see any burrows. You should be able to play.”
“Good.” He nodded to her. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint Danny.”
He turned to walk with her as she set out for the hotel. “I heard you talk with Danny a little about this game. You hit a ball with a stick . . .”
“A bat,” he corrected her.
She probably should use the correct terminology. “A bat, then. And you run around in a circle until someone throws the ball at you.”
She glanced over in time to see him wince. “It’s a little more precise than that. There’s strategy involved as to where you hit the ball and how far. You don’t run in a circle; there are three bases and home plate you must touch as you run. Every man has a position he must play, an area of the field he watches.”
“Like a sweep of the geyser field,” Kate allowed, making for the footbridge.
“Exactly. And the pitcher in the center of the field will be trying to throw the ball in such a way as to make sure you can’t hit it.”
That didn’t seem very fair. “And you think Danny will enjoy the game?”
His smile was warmer than the sunrise. “I know Danny will love it.”
But Danny wasn’t the only one looking forward to the game, Kate saw when she and Will returned to the hotel. Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn were on the veranda, watching Lieutenant Kingman, his men, and Privates Franklin and Lercher huddle near the geyser field. Will’s men were grouped on one end of the veranda, eyes narrowed and feet shifting as they eyed their opponents.
“Lieutenant Kingman is discussing strategy,” Miss Pringle told Kate as she and Will joined the two ladies.
“And I should do the same,” Will acknowledged with a tip of his hat to her guests. “Mrs. Tremaine, would you and Danny join us?”
“Give me a moment to stow this,” she said, hand on her knapsack.
He nodded agreement and headed toward the end of the veranda and the rest of his men.
“Have you had breakfast?” Kate asked the two older ladies.
“Oh yes, dear,” Miss Pringle told
