He sucked in a breath so hard Waxworth paused in his eating and sniffed the food as if certain Will had found fault. Will couldn’t tell him it wasn’t the meal but his thoughts that concerned him. He hadn’t volunteered to help at the inn because of Mrs. Tremaine’s lustrous black locks or shining gray eyes. Everything must take second place to his duty. He had vowed never to forget that again. Mrs. Tremaine was a means to an end. Unless he and his men knew where they were going and how to get back, they were useless.
When he’d finished his share of the meal, he glanced around at his men, waving to prevent them from standing at attention.
“Lights out at nine,” he ordered, watching the flicker of the fire turn their tanned faces red. “Franklin, Smith, and O’Reilly, you’re on guard duty tonight, change every three hours. Lercher, Waxworth, and I will share guard duty tomorrow night. We’ll start patrolling tomorrow at eight, from the fork of the Firehole River to the pools past the Geyser Gateway Inn, hitting all the points of interest we know so far.”
“Are we knowing the points of interest, then, sir?” O’Reilly asked.
Franklin, Lercher, and Waxworth watched Will expectantly. Smith looked bored.
“Mrs. Tremaine at the Geyser Gateway will supply us with a map,” Will told them. “I’ll have Franklin make copies for each of you.”
Someone blew out a breath in obvious relief.
“And what will we be doing if we catch someone misbehaving?” O’Reilly pressed. “Sure’n but we have nowhere to hold them.”
Not until they were allowed to build more sturdy accommodations.
“We’ll escort them to Mammoth Hot Springs,” Will said. “Captain Harris will likely expel the miscreant from the park.”
His men nodded.
“Like Jessup,” O’Reilly said and spit into the fire, setting it to sizzling.
This time the implied disdain was warranted. Roy Jessup had been the first poacher Captain Harris had evicted after Troop M had arrived in the park. When they’d all been at Mammoth Hot Springs, Will, Waxworth, and O’Reilly had been riding out along the Virginia Canyon Road toward the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone when they’d spotted a grizzled-haired mountain man ahead of them. Buckskins worn and dirty, he was towing a string of pack mules behind him.
“God bless America,” he said with a crooked-tooth grin as they caught up with him. “Glad to see you boys in the park. Can’t be too careful.”
Waxworth preened, but O’Reilly nodded to the pack on the first mule. “Something’s dripping.”
Will saw it too, a dusky crimson staining the bottom of the leather, drops even now sprinkling the dust of the rough road.
He pulled Bess in front of the mountain man. “Halt right there. What’s in those packs?”
“Now, then, Captain,” he wheedled, “there’s no need for concern. I’m just delivering meat to the hotel camp near the canyon. Has to be fresh to please our guests.” He winked.
“Then you won’t mind if we take a look.” Will nodded to O’Reilly, who swung down and approached the mules.
“The Yellowstone Park Association won’t thank you if I’m late,” the mountain man warned, shifting on the saddle. His hand strayed toward the rifle in its sheath at the side. Will drew his pistol, and the man stilled.
O’Reilly threw back the top on the heavy pack, took one look inside, and reared back, paling.
“What is it, Private?” Will called.
O’Reilly swallowed. “Buffalo head, sir. Fresh kill. Sure’n but those eyes can look right through a man.”
Will leveled his gun on the poacher. “Your name.”
Face hard, the man glared at him. “Roy Jessup. And you better remember it, because I’m the man who’s going to run the Army out of Yellowstone.”
“Roy Jessup,” Will barked, “you are under arrest for poaching. Your animals and belongings are forfeit. Surrender your weapons, and come with me to Mammoth Hot Springs.”
Jessup chuckled, and the sound held no humor. “What are you going to do if I refuse?”
In truth, he had no option, but Jessup didn’t need to know that. “The Army is in charge of this park. There are penalties for disobeying the rules. Private Waxworth, relieve Mr. Jessup of his weapons. Private O’Reilly, take charge of the animals.”
Hemmed in on all sides, outgunned, Jessup had had no choice but to surrender. Captain Harris had given Will the honor of escorting him from the park.
“This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me,” the poacher had threatened as they’d reached the northern boundary. “This land belongs to everyone. You’ve no right to keep me from it.”
“And you’ve no right to despoil it,” Will had countered. He’d only wished he’d been able to do more than force Jessup to dismount and watch him walk toward the town of Gardiner with only his buckskins to his name.
How many more people like Jessup would they find hiding in the park? Would they have any idea where to look without a competent guide?
Mrs. Tremaine’s map couldn’t come too soon. He only hoped it would be enough.
3
With everything to be done around the hotel, Kate didn’t have time to start on Lieutenant Prescott’s map after all. Her first chore before dinner was to chat with Mr. Ponsonby. She located the dandy lounging on the porch swing that faced the trees and the circuit road, pipe in one hand. He hastily put it out as she approached and stood to meet her.
“I forgot,” he said. “You asked us not to smoke on the premises.”
At least he hadn’t lit up in his room or out among the trees. Fire was a constant danger in the park. “Apparently, you also forgot another of the rules here. Nothing is to go into any geyser or mud pot opening.”
He waved a hand before settling back on the swing as if assuming she’d join him. “A ridiculous precaution. Have you seen how high those geysers shoot? Surely a stick or two wouldn’t interfere with the process.”
“You might be surprised,” Kate said, remaining standing.
He pushed the swing lazily with one
