They followed the bison to the upper meadow, took a seat under the pines, and watched for a while longer. Kate pointed out the younger members of the herd, their tiny horns and humps just popping into view. Danny told Will stories about past encounters.
“Sometimes the boys visit,” he said, leaning against Will. “Pa called the biggest one Bill.”
“Buffalo Bill,” Kate whispered to Will.
He smiled. “I bet he even looks a little like Cody with one of those pointy beards. How often do the cows and calves come here?”
“Summer through winter,” Kate explained. “The ground on the northern meadow is too soft in the spring.”
The sun was heading for the west when they returned to the inn.
Will paused by the hitching post while Danny sped up the steps and into the inn.
“I’m riding to Old Faithful Tuesday,” Will said. “I want to confirm who’s responsible for watching the Grand Prismatic Spring.” He glanced out across the geyser field and shuffled his feet. “I don’t suppose you could break free to join me.”
A dozen tasks called for her attention. She had guests arriving, the hotel to prepare for winter. Caleb would be leaving soon. She and Danny had to make sure they knew what needed to be done with the horses, cows, and chickens. And the road to Old Faithful was easy to follow. He didn’t need a guide.
But nothing seemed more important than being with him.
Trust. Take time to listen, to enjoy, remember?
“I’d be delighted,” Kate said. “And I can see the accommodations while I’m there too.”
He chuckled as his gaze came back to hers. “You never stop working.”
“Rarely,” she admitted. “What time are you starting?”
“After breakfast.”
“I’ll see you then.”
He hesitated, feet once more shifting on the dry ground. Then he nodded and touched his hat. “Ma’am.”
Kate watched him around the side of the hotel as he headed for the barn. His walk didn’t look quite as confident as usual. Perhaps the sight of the bison had affected him even more than she’d thought. Pleased, she went into the hotel.
In the salon, Mr. Jones was seated on the closest sofa beside the hearth, Danny at his side. The man still wore his buckskins. She’d concluded he hadn’t brought anything else with him. But his beard was neat, his hair freshly combed, if the precision of his part was any indication.
“That Lieutenant Prescott is one lucky feller,” her guest said as she approached.
She put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “How so?”
“He got to spend the day with Danny and his pretty mama.”
Was he attempting to flirt with her? Miss Pringle might have giggled. Mrs. Pettijohn would have demanded to know his intentions. But Kate had no interest in his attentions. She never dallied with guests.
“I forgot to check,” she said, ignoring the remark. “How long will you be with us, Mr. Jones?”
He shifted closer to Danny and put his hand around her son’s shoulders so that his fingers grazed hers. Kate pulled away.
“Oh, a few more days at the least,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’ve grown accustomed to the gracious welcome of the Geyser Gateway. It feels like family.”
“That’s what we hope all our guests feel,” Kate assured him, taking a step back. “Danny, we should see if Alberta needs any help with dinner.”
“Yes, Ma.” For once, his response sounded more relieved than resentful. He hopped down and walked with her toward the kitchen.
“Do you like Mr. Jones?” she asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
“He’s nice,” Danny allowed. “He’s my friend. But sometimes he asks hard questions. He wanted to see the animals. I didn’t like not telling him about our special spot.”
“It’s difficult to keep the secret,” Kate said as they entered the kitchen. “But I’m proud of you.”
He went to help Pansy with the dishes.
So, Danny wasn’t too concerned about their odd guest. But she couldn’t understand what Mr. Jones wanted. Certainly she would never encourage him as she’d encouraged Will.
Or think about him whatever she did, wherever she went the rest of the evening. She could hardly wait until Tuesday.
Wakefield and Hoffman brought three men traveling through on Monday afternoon, which kept Kate busier than she’d expected. The snowstorm didn’t help. The temperature had been chilly all morning. Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn remained hunkered down by the hearth, sipping cups of tea. Mr. Jones hid in his room. The chickens clung to their roost. Caleb pulled shut the doors on the barn and kept the other animals inside.
The flakes began falling late afternoon from leaden skies. They sizzled and melted on the warm ground at first, winking out in the steam from the geysers like shooting stars. Will and his men patrolled in a swirl of white.
“I thought you said we had weeks until winter,” he told Kate when he and Private Waxworth came inside to warm up while Caleb saw to their horses.
Kate spread her hands. “I have no control over the weather.”
Miss Pringle looked shocked, and Mrs. Pettijohn humphed.
Danny could scarcely contain himself. “Can we build a snowman, Ma? Throw snowballs in the geysers? They’d melt.”
“What’s on the ground is more mud than snow,” Kate protested.
Will pushed away from the hearth, where he’d been standing. “There’s enough for a few snowballs. We have to keep that arm in shape. Come on, Danny.”
“Coat first,” Kate cautioned before her son could dash out the door. He ran for the stairs and their apartment.
Will crossed to her side. “You don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind,” she said, but she couldn’t help her grin. “Only you better watch where his snowballs hit. They’ll likely have a few rocks mixed in.”
Mrs. Pettijohn rose and shook out her skirts. “I would like to view the combat. Come, Serenity.”
Her sister gazed up at her. “Must we? It’s sure to be cold.”
Mrs. Pettijohn eyed her. “Lieutenant Prescott and Private Waxworth valiantly hurling objects at each other—do you truly want to miss that?”
Miss Pringle turned pink and popped
