Elijah’s grin was conspiratorial in his dark face. “Oh, they reserved. The Bassett Brothers stage driver hadn’t arrived yet when I stopped by the station at Cinnabar to see if anyone needed a tour. I convinced them to come here instead of the Fire Hole.”
The Fire Hole Hotel to the north, like most of the hotels in the park, now belonged to the Yellowstone Park Association. It was also far more rustic than the Geyser Gateway.
“You keep poaching visitors, and someone will notice,” Kate predicted.
He laughed. “Man’s got to make a living. Why else drive in Yellowstone?”
With a smile, she hurried to check in her new guests even as Elijah went to bring in their luggage. By the time she had everyone settled, the day was advancing. Danny was helping Caleb with the horses, so she hurried upstairs to the small apartment at the end of the hotel, where she and Danny made their home. Sitting at the table in the center of the main room, she sketched a map. The hotels, the geysers and paint pots, the curves of the Firehole River and the footbridges across it, the bridle path to Fairy Falls, the Grand Prismatic Spring, and various lakes.
She hesitated on the area to the west of Fairy Creek, then purposely marked it “Off-Limits.” It was an Army term she’d heard from Lieutenant Kingman, the Corps of Engineers officer in charge of improving Yellowstone’s roads. She could only hope Lieutenant Prescott and his men were familiar with it too. If not, she’d have to take other measures to protect the area.
She had just come downstairs again when she saw Lieutenant Prescott hitching his horse outside. She patted her bun in place, bit her lips for color.
And froze.
What was she doing, primping? She was a widow, Toby gone barely a year. She wasn’t courting, had no plans to marry again. She had too much to do as it was.
She straightened her shoulders, put on a smile that was no more than pleasant. The moment he walked in the door, she held out the rolled map. “Lieutenant Prescott. Here’s my end of the deal.”
His brows rose, but he accepted the map, then crossed to the desk that held the guest book and unrolled the map on top of it. Kate went to join him, careful to keep a respectable distance.
He nodded as his gaze swept over her drawing. “Nicely executed but inadequate.”
Kate stiffened. “Inadequate? Why?”
“Distances, for one,” he said. “Is this to scale?”
“No,” Kate admitted. “I didn’t think of that.”
He pointed to the western meadows. “Who put this area off-limits?”
So, he did know the term. Kate lifted her chin. “I did. We don’t take visitors there. It has no pools or waterfalls. No reason for strangers to intrude.”
He straightened to eye her, and she was suddenly aware of his height, the width of his chest, the depth of his gaze. “This is Yellowstone, Mrs. Tremaine. We’re all strangers.”
Kate kept her head high. “It’s part of my lease from the Department of Interior. And I choose to keep it off-limits.”
He returned his attention to the map, and she felt an odd disquiet, as if someone had taken the last piece of huckleberry pie before she’d had a bite.
“I doubt Captain Harris realized your lease amounted to hundreds of acres,” he said. “He intends to cut back all hotel lands to the immediate vicinity of the buildings themselves.”
Then she had some convincing to do. “That’s his prerogative, but, at the moment, my lease stands.”
“I’m afraid this map doesn’t.” He let go of the paper, and it rolled up to rock on the book. “These aren’t trackless prairies where a patrol can see for miles. We need to know the trails, the distances between stations, the location of fresh, cool water for us and our mounts, the hazards of scalding fountains and pools. I have a responsibility to keep my men safe.”
“I thought your bigger responsibility was to safeguard Yellowstone,” Kate countered. “But I see your point. I’m not sure I could draw you a map that would detail all those points. Even the men who hire on as guides would be hard-pressed to draw such a map.”
He sighed. “So much for our deal.”
She was not about to let him off so easily. The list of things needing fixing was growing in her head to epic proportions. And they only had until the snow started flying six weeks from now.
Or sooner.
She could think of only one alternative, one that would take her away from her hotel and into the company of this man who made her think of things long buried. But if Captain Harris was to renew her lease, all of her lease, she needed him to know she supported the Army.
“The deal stands,” she insisted. “I’ll simply have to show you around myself.”
Will stared at her. Those misty eyes looked hard as stone. Her chin jutted out, and her rosy lips were compressed.
“I thought you had a business to run,” he protested.
Her eyes narrowed. “I do, but I won’t if I don’t have help. Since I’ll be doing a favor for the entire detachment, I imagine I’ll find uses for all your men.”
It was one thing to offer her his time off, another to put a detachment at the disposal of a civilian. “I can’t promise that.”
She cocked her head. “One day a week, all meals provided?”
Her staff’s cooking? Waxworth would be drooling. Perhaps Will could convince Captain Harris it was in the best interest of the Army. Better food generally meant better prepared soldiers.
“I’ll consider it,” he said. “In the meantime, I have four hours at my disposal now. What would you like me to do first?”
Her eyes lit, like moonlight through mist. “Fix the front steps. We need to make a good impression on new arrivals.”
One look at her would do
