by Regina Scott
Alberta swung to face the yard, as if noticing them for the first time. “Mrs. Tremaine, Lieutenant Prescott, how good to have you back! Are you hungry?”
“I’m hungry,” Danny put in hopefully.
“I appreciate you feeding my men, Alberta,” Will said, jaw tight, “but we have work to do. Smith!”
Smith shoved in a mouthful of the pie and handed the plate and fork to Alberta. “Duty calls.”
“You’re welcome to stay,” Kate told Will as his private ambled down the steps.
“Thank you,” he said, “for everything. But we have a patrol to ride. We still don’t know whether the poacher remains in the area.”
Her face tightened. “I’ll keep watch here too.”
Danny glanced between them. “Will you come back and show me how to play baseball, Lieutenant?”
The pleading tone, the wide eyes, pulled at his heart. “As soon as I can, Danny. I promise.”
Kate slipped her arm about her son’s shoulders and turned for the porch.
Will looked to Smith. “Where’s your horse?”
“In the barn. I found the veranda a marvelous vantage point for viewing the entire geyser field. You should try it, Lieutenant.”
“Perhaps after I’ve confirmed the rest of the area is safe,” Will gritted out. “At least tell me what you learned at Riverside, assuming you actually reached Riverside.”
“I did,” he said, shifting on his feet as if standing for so short a time fatigued him or Will’s conversation bored him. “They saw no sign of the poacher. I take it you and the Norris fellows had no better luck.”
“None,” Will admitted. “But with three detachments keeping an eye out for him, we’re sure to locate him. Now, get your horse, and we’ll finish the patrol.”
“Sir.” He pivoted toward where Danny was about to enter the inn. “Ho, General Tremaine. Would you be so good as to fetch me my horse?”
“Sure,” Danny said, and he broke away from Kate to dart down the porch before Will could stop him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded of the private. “He has enough chores of his own.”
Smith sighed. “Don’t we all?”
Will shook his head as Kate stepped back from the door.
“Your duties are lighter than most,” he told Smith. “Rizzo in Nadler’s detachment is looking for a change. Perhaps I should trade you.”
“You could,” Smith allowed, lower lip sticking out over his beard as if he was pondering the matter. “But I’d put Nadler in his place on the first day. I assume the reason you chose me was because you thought you could keep up with me.”
“I thought,” Will said, “you might have something you were trying to make up for, especially after Harris’s comment about card games.”
Those dark eyes glittered. “Ah, you would know something about making up for past mistakes, wouldn’t you?”
Cold trickled down his back for all the day was warm. “Go fetch your horse, Soldier.”
Smith strolled after Danny.
Kate moved back into the sunlight. “Everything all right, Will?”
When she looked at him that way, face soft and eyes wistful, everything should be all right. But he couldn’t tell her the shame that threatened, the revulsion of who he’d been, what he’d done.
“Just thinking about the poacher,” he said.
Her smile was sad, as if she commiserated. “You’ll catch him. I have faith in you.”
And that made him all the more determined to live up to her expectations.
As Kate went inside at last, he mounted Bess and gave her a pat.
“Just a little farther,” he said softly in her upright ear.
Smith came riding around the hotel, and Will led him from the yard. He set them toward the north.
His private rode along, as easy in the saddle as he’d been on the veranda. As they cleared the pines and started across the grassland, he heaved an audible sigh.
“Such a shame about Mrs. Tremaine.”
Will had to fight to keep from tightening his grip on the reins. “What do you mean?”
Smith glanced his way with a half-smile. “More concerned about the lady’s reputation than your own? How commendable.”
“My reputation speaks for itself,” Will told him. “So should Mrs. Tremaine’s.”
“I daresay the lady’s will take some effort to dim. More so than a man who’s served in Indian Territory.”
The fellow’s words were like slugs slipping down Will’s back, cold and slimy. “If you have something to say, Private, say it.”
Smith turned his attention to the road, but that self-satisfied smile remained. “Perhaps at a more opportune time.”
Was that a hint of blackmail to come? Will wouldn’t stand for it. He’d sooner have everyone in the detachment know what he’d done than to live under the constant fear of discovery.
“There is no more opportune time, Smith,” he told him. “Whenever you choose to say what you think you know, I’ll be there to refute it.”
“Or confirm it,” Smith agreed. “After all, I can’t be the only one to notice you wear no spurs. But you needn’t be concerned. I’m impressed with your ability to rise above your circumstances. Sir.”
“Adding sir doesn’t help your insolence, Private,” Will said. “You know I can order you on nothing but hardtack.”
Smith pressed a hand to his chest like a dowager shocked by the latest fashion. “The horror. I’d only appeal to Alberta to rescue me. Such a dear. Too bad her livelihood is also at stake.”
He ought to punish the cavalryman for his behavior. Captain Harris didn’t stand for anyone dishonoring rank. But he had to agree with Kate that respect was earned. He had to be the man whom his men respected.
“Tell me what you heard about the Geyser Gateway, Private,” he ordered.
Smith raised a brow but answered readily enough. “One of the Wakefield and Hoffman drivers spoke to me earlier at the Fire Hole. He’s been told to favor that hotel over the Geyser Gateway.”
Will frowned at him. “That’s ridiculous. Captain Harris called the Fire Hole an unsatisfactory shanty.”
“Better a shanty run by a respectable gentleman and his wife than a fancy hotel run by a harlot.”
Will reined in. “Watch your words, Soldier.”
Smith stopped as well. “Not my words, sir. I’m just repeating what the driver said. It seems others have heard that Mrs. Tremaine extended her hospitality to us over the winter. I believe the exact phrase used to describe the Geyser Gateway was ‘fit only to be barracks.’ And there appeared to be a question as to why a widow would want to spend so much time alone with soldiers.”
“She won’t be alone,” Will protested. “Alberta and Danny will be with us. I wouldn’t have proposed the scheme if I thought her reputation would be damaged.”
Smith raised one hand. “Far be it from me to disagree with your plan, Lieutenant. I’d rather spend the winter at the hotel with Alberta’s fine cooking than shivering in a cabin with you. You asked me what was being said about Mrs. Tremaine, and I told you.”
Kate had expressed outrage that the Virginia City Outfitters would denigrate the Geyser Gateway. The rumors were spreading, but Captain Harris would surely find the place exceptional when he made his next inspection come spring. Will would personally recommend a ten-year lease for Kate, however much good his word was with the captain and the Department of the Interior.
But the quality of the hotel was easily verified by its cleanliness, comfort, and cooking. A reputation was far harder to verify. Once lost, it might never be regained. He knew from experience.
“You may have to shiver, Private,” he said. “Because if associating with us could damage Kate Tremaine’s reputation, we will cease associating with her, no matter the cost to us.”
13
Kate walked into the main salon of the inn, feeling oddly out of place. Why? Not a speck of dust showed on the furnishings; the hearth was swept clean. S
arah and Ida passed the arch on the other side, readying the tables for dinner. Alberta had a stew on—Kate could smell the rich scent. The inn was exactly as it should be. Was she the one who had changed?
Danny must have come through the kitchen, for he popped out of the dining room, biscuit in one hand. Kate caught him as he started past and hugged him a moment. His soft hair brushed her cheek. He smelled like the cinnamon and nutmeg Alberta used in her pies. She hadn’t thought about him while she was away, comfortable in her staff’s care of him. But she couldn’t seem to get enough of him now.
He wiggled in her arms, and she reluctantly released him. Shoving the last of the biscuit in his mouth, he skipped around the nearest sofa. Oh, for an ounce of that energy.
“What did you do while I was gone?” she asked, watching him.
“We finished the ice cream,” he informed her, making for the opposite sofa in a figure eight. “Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn played cards with me. Beggar-my-neighbor. Miss Pringle won. Mrs. Pettijohn didn’t like that. I didn’t mind.”
She’d almost forgotten about her guests too! “Where are Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn?”
Danny skidded to a stop and cocked his head as if thinking about the answer. “They made Caleb take them to Old Faithful in the pony cart. They’re coming back for dinner. You could talk to them on the telephone. Elijah said there’s one at the tent hotel there and one at the Fire Hole Hotel. Telephones can talk to anyone.”
“Not anyone,” Kate said. “But we can reach many locations in the park now.” She glanced around at the empty room. “And where are the other guests who were to arrive?”
“They went to the Fire Hole,” Danny said, returning to his loop about the sofas. “They didn’t want to stay here.”
Kate blocked him as he rounded the sofa. “Why?”
Danny shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they wanted to be closer to the telephone. Could we get one?”
“Maybe the Army will put one in for the winter,” Kate told him. “It would be a lot easier than sending people between detachments.” She turned him to face her. “Did we get any more guests?”
“One,” Danny admitted, meeting her gaze. “Mr. Jones rode in from up north. He came to take the waters. I heard him tell Alberta.”
That was odd. While many people believed the hot springs had healing properties, most invalids stayed near the bathhouses at Mammoth Hot Springs. Even the Fire Hole Hotel boasted a hot spring bath. Then again, the Geyser Gateway was less expensive than Mammoth Hot Springs and more comfortable than the Fire Hole. At least she had some advantages.
“Well, he’s very welcome,” Kate said. “We’ll find a way to meet his needs.”
“Or we could ask Lieutenant Prescott,” Danny said, darting away again. “He helps everyone. I knew he’d take care of you last night.”
Kate nodded, mind already working. “He did. And we should take care of our duties too. You should probably go see if we need . . .”
“More wood brought in,” Danny finished, shoulders slumping.
Kate pulled him close once more. “I was going to say more help tasting those biscuits.”
He glanced up and back, eyes lighting. “Yes, ma’am.”
As she released him, he skipped toward the kitchen.
Kate straightened with a sigh. A shame she couldn’t be satisfied with biscuits. But the rumors were spreading. She had to fight them! Will was right that her guests knew the truth about the Geyser Gateway, but she wouldn’t have guests if the Virginia City Outfitters scared off all her customers before they even walked in the door. She’d hoped that hosting Will and his men through the winter would give her money for improvements. That money would have to go toward paying Alberta’s salary if Kate couldn’t keep the trade she’d predicted through September.
Though a Mr. Jones had not been on the list.
She checked the big guest book to be sure. There was Miss Pringle’s reservation and her precise handwriting noting her arrival. Mrs. Pettijohn’s writing was more sprawling as she claimed her room. Nothing for a Mr. Jones. Had no one even signed him in? Perhaps she should introduce herself, see how much assistance he required, after she changed into more suitable clothing.
A quarter hour later, gowned in a blue-and-white striped bodice and blue skirts, Kate went in search of her newest guest. But Alberta had no idea where Mr. Jones had gone, and most of the rooms Kate poked her nose in were empty. She finally located Pansy cleaning out the last room on the south side of the hotel. Kate had always felt the rooms comfortable, but the polished mahogany headboard, thick quilt with its green-and-brown-patterned blocks, and feather pillows looked downright luxurious after her stay in the tent camp. How could anyone complain?
“Where’s Mr. Jones?” she asked Pansy.
“He left his two horses in the barn and a saddlebag in room eleven across the way and went out again,” Pansy said, snapping the clean sheet up and out so that it floated down on the tick. “I thought he was going to view the geysers.”
Kate helped her tuck in the corners. “I’ll find him and then come back and help you with the rooms. I’m expecting a group of six from Monida later this week.”
Pansy nodded, and Kate went to walk the geysers.
Fountain was living up to its name, the spray obscuring most of the west side of the field. She stood and watched the falling water a moment, the cool breeze bringing her stray drops that left dark patches on her skirts. Sulfur clung to the air. There was no sign of a cavalryman, but Will and Private Smith would have reached their camp by now. Still, Danny was right. Will was a handy fellow to have around. He’d been right at her side until she’d gone to sleep at the tent camp. And he’d only left her alone there for practical reasons.
She sighed as she started around the field. Toby had been one to take chances, never considering the consequences. Will tended to think things through, look for possible problems, and resolve them before they grew. He appeared to be a man one could count on. The urge to do so was surprisingly strong.
She paused to watch the paint pots bubble, thick and gloppy so late in the season. She’d managed this hotel alone for a year, survived last winter as well. Why was she so willing to entertain the idea of letting someone else come alongside her, give him part of her work, her life? Wasn’t she just opening herself up to trouble?
Besides, what would happen next spring? As soon as the Department of the Interior appointed a new superintendent, the Army would leave. And Will would go with it. Did she truly want to give her heart to a man who, like Toby, would leave her behind or expect her to arrange her life to suit his?
She rounded Silex Spring and spotted another man out by Jelly Geyser. He wore stained buckskins and a coonskin cap, but he must not have any idea where the geysers were, for he was coming in from the southwest, where none existed. Kate cut across the area to try to reach him.
“Mr. Jones?” she called.
He didn’t react. Was he hard of hearing? He might wander into a paint pot if he couldn’t listen for the plop-plop. She hurried forward.
He turned then and smiled at her, stopping as if to allow her to catch up. A short, stocky, craggy-faced fellow with a rough grizzled beard and crooked teeth, he stuck out a hand. “You must be Mrs. Tremaine. I understand I just missed you yesterday at Norris. I slept in the tent camp last night with you.”
Kate accepted his hand and gave it a shake, surprised by the strong grip. “We’re glad to have you. Tell me, what do you think of the Geyser Gateway?”
He glanced past her toward the hotel. “A fine establishment. Best I’ve seen in the park.”
He sounded as if the observation came from long experience. “Have you traveled through before?” she asked, watching him.
“Once or twice.” He returned his gaze to hers, his blue eyes cool and assessing. “Maybe you could answer a question for me. What do you all do for excitement around here?”
She pointed to the east of the field. “Watch the paint pots bubble ove
r.”
He laughed. “I never could understand the attraction. A man of my years has seen enough that he needs more to stimulate his interest.”
He waited. What did he want her to say? She knew what excited some men. Liquor was forbidden in the park, except in the dining room of the National Hotel and the Fire Hole, and she wouldn’t have served it anyway. Nor could she condone gambling. And she wasn’t about to suggest he go hunting.
“I was told you’d come to take the waters, Mr. Jones,” she said. “We don’t have a bathhouse here, but we have on occasion brought in warm water for bathing. We have two copper tubs. I’d be happy to have Pansy set one up in your room.”
He waved a hand. “If I want to soak, I know where to go. I didn’t come here for the bathing. I’ve run across a rough patch of luck, and it suits me just fine to recuperate at your excellent establishment.” He glanced back at the hotel again, then pulled his cap lower, until it nearly covered his eyes. “In fact, I think I’ll avail myself of the pie your cook offered me before I came out here. Excuse me.”
He started for the inn just as Will rode into the yard.
It wasn’t time for his afternoon patrol. Was something wrong?
Had he come to see her?
Kate shook herself and hurried back. By the time she reached him, he was reining in and the door was banging shut behind Mr. Jones.
Will nodded to her in greeting before dismounting. “New guest? I just caught his back in passing. He seemed in a big hurry.”
“Apparently he likes pie,” she said. “But he was behaving himself on the geyser field. I don’t think he’ll be any trouble.”
“Unlike me and my men.”
She glanced at him in surprise. “Why? What have you done?”
“Damaged the reputation of the Geyser Gateway,” he said, eyes dipping at the corners. “And for that I apologize. Now I just need to figure out what to do about it.”
She was frowning so fiercely, head tilted as if she just couldn’t believe what he’d told her.