by Regina Scott
Alberta must have seen something in Kate’s face, for she took a step toward her. “We can lock all the doors. Surely everything would be fine for a couple hours.”
Mr. Jones rose. “I’ll just be on my way, then.” He headed for the kitchen door.
Kate drew in a breath. “Very well. We’ll all go. I’ll tell Pansy.”
Her maid was eager for the entertainment, so Kate sent her out to fetch Caleb as well. When Kate returned to the veranda, she found Danny already standing with the cavalrymen, wiggling as he listened to them discuss their plans. Will and his men all tipped their hats to her as she approached. Will’s smile made her shoulders feel less tight.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so. It just doesn’t feel right not to be working.”
He took her hand. “You deserve to enjoy yourself, Kate.”
Mrs. Pettijohn must have overhead the conversation, for she wagged her finger at Kate. “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
Miss Pringle frowned. “I don’t think any of them are named Jack, dear.”
“And neither am I,” Kate assured her. They were right. There was nothing wrong with enjoying herself. Head high, she released Will, took Danny’s hand, and led the cavalcade for the meadow.
“Lieutenant Kingman is a good friend,” Danny said as he walked beside her. “We should take him up to our special spot before he leaves.”
“No,” Kate said, glancing back to where Will and the others walked behind them. “And you must be very quiet about our spot at the game today, Danny. The particulars are for family only.”
“Oh.” Danny hopped over a rock. “Well, maybe we should tell Lieutenant Prescott. He’s almost family.”
Almost, but not quite.
Will couldn’t interpret the look Kate sent him over her shoulder, but the conversation was easy enough to understand. The special spot Danny talked about on occasion was obviously connected to the area Kate had put off-limits, the meadow they were approaching now. It was something shared only within their family.
And he wasn’t family.
Not yet, something inside him whispered.
“Perfect,” Kingman declared.
The way had opened into a meadow perhaps a hundred yards square. Will nodded, and Waxworth and O’Reilly went to lay out the scraps of lumber they’d brought to serve as bases. Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn wandered over to sit under the shade of the pines on the western flank, where Alberta and Pansy were laying out blankets, while Caleb clung to the shadows of the trees. Will had asked the shy fellow whether he wanted to play, but all he’d received in answer was the rapid shake of Caleb’s head.
“What positions did you want us to play?” Kate asked, hand on Danny’s as he vibrated like a string on a guitar, gaze darting everywhere.
He and his men had worked out the strategy earlier. “I’ll be pitching,” he told her. “Waxworth and O’Reilly are playing first and third base. Smith is at home. Are you and Danny willing to take on second base and the outfield?” He pointed toward the base O’Reilly had just laid down.
Danny nodded eagerly, though Will suspected the boy would have accepted any position offered him. Kate led him out to the farthest point on the diamond.
Will’s team had won the coin toss, so Kingman’s team would bat first. Will accepted the ball and went to stand in the center of the diamond. Glancing around, he met each player’s gaze. Waxworth nodded, Kate smiled, Danny waved, O’Reilly spit, and Smith squatted down behind Kingman, who was standing at bat.
Will studied the other lieutenant’s stance, then wound up and threw the ball. It whizzed past the bat.
“Strike one,” Smith called.
Kingman glared at him.
“Sorry,” he drawled. “Strike one, sir.”
“Yay!” Danny cheered.
Kate hushed him.
Will managed to get one more ball past the lieutenant, but Kingman connected on the third, a hard drive to Will’s right. By the time O’Reilly grabbed it from the ground and threw it to Waxworth, Kingman was safely on first.
“It’s okay, Lieutenant Prescott,” Danny called from behind second base. “You’ll do better with this one for sure.”
Will caught the ball from Waxworth, squared his shoulders, and struck out the first corporal.
“Hey!” he heard Danny complain. “That’s not fair!”
Will turned to find Kingman on second.
“It’s called stealing a base, young man,” Kingman told Danny. He smiled at Will and bent low as if prepared to dash to third at the least provocation.
He got his chance with the second corporal, who sent a ball flying high over first base. Waxworth ran for it, but it fell down near the trees. By the time he returned to base, the corporal was on second, and Kingman was on third.
The sergeant came up next. He waved the bat around a moment, as if testing its strength, then settled it into position. “This is for the Irish,” he called, and O’Reilly’s eyes narrowed.
He hit the ball so hard it disappeared among the trees over the heads of the watchers.
“Oh, very nice,” Miss Pringle declared as O’Reilly ran in pursuit of it.
“You must do better, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Pettijohn scolded, shaking a finger at Will as all three men reached home.
Yes, he must. Danny was counting on him. So was Kate. Her smile of encouragement buoyed him. He had the measure of Kingman’s team now. He struck out Kingman and the first corporal.
“Three strikes, you’re out!” Danny crowed as the teams traded places.
Kingman took up first base, his sergeant took second, and one of the corporals took third. That left him one corporal to range the outfield, while Lercher served as catcher.
Franklin tossed the ball in the air at the center of the diamond as Waxworth came up to bat. The first ball shot past, and Lercher went to find it among the grass and toss it back.
“Strike one!” he shouted as he resumed his place behind Waxworth.
Waxworth scowled at him, and he shrugged. The private wiggled his hips and settled the bat on one shoulder.
“Is that the best way to bat?” Kate murmured to Will.
“Perhaps not,” Will acknowledged as the lanky cavalryman swung and missed.
“Strike two!” Lercher bellowed.
Waxworth’s face darkened. His knuckles were white as he gripped the bat. Franklin threw. Waxworth swung. The ball snapped back toward the pitcher as if on a string. Waxworth dropped the bat and hurtled toward first, where he stopped, face flushed and chest heaving.
“Me! Me!” Danny begged.
Will bent to put his head on a level with the boy’s. “I’m counting on you for later, Danny. I want to make sure we have at least one more person on base.”
Danny nodded, trembling.
“Is that wise?” Kate whispered as Will straightened. “He’s never played before.”
Will bowed, sweeping his hand toward the plate. “Then show him how it’s done.”
She eyed him a moment before going to accept the bat from Lercher.
She positioned it a little higher off her shoulder than Waxworth had. Franklin carefully tossed the ball toward her. Kate didn’t swing.
“Strike?” Lercher asked her.
“Nonsense,” Kate said with a frown. “Private Franklin was clearly practicing.” She looked toward the pitcher. “I’m ready, Private. Give it another try.”
Lercher threw the ball back even as Franklin reddened.
“You can do it, Private,” Miss Pringle called. “We have faith in you.”
“Knock it into next week, Mrs. Tremaine!” Mrs. Pettijohn ordered.
Franklin wound up and hurled the ball. Will had to stop himself from throwing his body between it and Kate.
She swung, and the ball arced up and over the field. Every man stood and watched it.
Except Will. “You did it!” he shouted.
She grinned at him.
“Run!” Albe
rta screamed.
Kate caught up her skirts and ran. Waxworth made it to third, and she made it to second, before the corporal returned with the ball and threw it to Franklin.
“Now?” Danny begged.
Will shook his head.
Smith was up next. He bunted toward third and reached first safely, but none of the others could reach home in time.
“Now?” Danny was hopping from foot to foot.
“Now,” Will agreed.
He ran to the plate and grabbed the bat. It was nearly as long as he was. But he held it tight and didn’t let it rest on his shoulder.
Once more, Franklin attempted a gentle toss. Danny connected with a thud, but the ball went up and came down behind Lercher.
“Strike one,” Lercher called with an apologetic look to Danny. He returned the ball to Franklin.
“Whose side are you on?” Mrs. Pettijohn demanded.
“Why, Lieutenant Kingman’s, dear,” Miss Pringle reminded her.
“It’s all right,” Will called to Danny. “You can do it.”
Danny’s eyes were wide as he lifted the bat again. This time it wobbled in his grip. All Kingman’s men moved into the infield.
“Don’t coddle him!” Kate called from second base. “He can hit it.”
The bat stopped wobbling.
Franklin threw, straight and true. Danny swung so hard his whole body arced. Crack! The ball sailed into the woods, and the corporal went running.
So did Danny. As Will cheered, he hit first and stopped. As the ball veered toward Franklin, Waxworth cleared home.
“Stay there!” Kate called from third as Danny started moving toward second. He leaped back onto the base. Kingman smiled at him.
Will moved into place and picked up the bat.
“You can do it, Lieutenant!” Danny called.
Maybe, but unlike Kingman’s men, Franklin knew how Will played. He threw a ball just low enough that Will didn’t swing.
“Strike,” Lercher said. “Sorry, sir.”
Not as sorry as Kingman, as Will connected with the second ball, and it flew for the trees. He followed Kate, Smith, and Danny around the bases.
“You did it, you did it!” Danny cried, jumping up and down.
Will hefted him into his arms. “We did it. Here’s to our new top hitter.”
Everyone cheered.
Will caught Kate’s gaze, and the noise, the motions around him, Danny against him, seemed to fade until there was only her, smiling with pride, with affection. The very earth shook beneath him. It was a moment before he realized it wasn’t just his emotions causing the sensation.
“Earthquake!” Kingman shouted.
18
Kate stumbled to Will’s side and clung to his arm as he lowered Danny to the ground. She wasn’t sure who looked the more rattled. All around them, the trees swayed with the movement of the earth, and she was certain the grass rippled along with it. In the distance, something rumbled, a rockslide on higher terrain.
But the quake was gone as quickly as it had come.
“My word,” Kate heard Miss Pringle say. “That was something.”
She glanced over in time to see Mrs. Pettijohn draw herself up. “Does this happen often, Mrs. Tremaine?”
“Quite often,” Kate assured her, taking Danny’s hand in hers. “Though most are much less noticeable.”
“The Geological Survey informed me that Yellowstone has at least one a day,” Lieutenant Kingman said, joining them. “I can’t say I’ll miss them.” He nodded to Will. “I concede your victory, Prescott. My men and I should get back.”
“Now, Lieutenant,” Kate teased him, “surely you’re not put off by a little tremor.”
He smiled at Danny. “No, ma’am. I’m more afraid of the drubbing your son would give us if we played much longer.” He raised his head and glanced around. “Ah, Yellowstone. Nothing like it. I leave it in your good hands, Kate.”
“A responsibility I cherish,” she promised.
“A responsibility you carry better than anyone,” Will said.
Warmth filled her. He held her gaze a moment, as if he held her in his arms. Then he turned to direct his men to secure the bases.
Kate gathered her composure and managed to herd everyone out of the meadow. She glanced back just before leaving, trying to make out any dark shape through the pines, but everything was still.
Unlike her son. Danny couldn’t stop talking. He relived the moment he’d batted with Will and his men as they walked back to the hotel.
“He’s a hero,” Kate said to Will, watching her son reminisce with Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn after they’d bid Lieutenant Kingman and his men farewell. “He’ll never forget this.”
“Bigger triumphs will likely overtake this one,” Will said. “But I’m glad he had a chance to play. I don’t know when we’ll have enough players again.”
Kate nodded. “Winter will be here very soon.”
Will winked at her. “And then the real work begins. I have a feeling you’ve decided exactly how you’ll keep us busy.”
Kate laughed. “Oh, Will. You just wait.”
Mrs. Pettijohn and her sister climbed to the veranda. Miss Pringle sighed. “So much excitement! What else shall we do today, dear?”
Mrs. Pettijohn pursed her lips as she sat on the bench. “Perhaps we should learn to fish.”
As Kate and Will came up the steps after them, Miss Pringle brightened. “Perhaps Mr. Jones could teach us.”
“I don’t think I’ve laid eyes on him yet,” Will told them. “And none of my men have mentioned him. You’d have thought the number of times we ride by each day, someone would have had the opportunity to talk.”
She didn’t see the mystery as so deep. “I grant you he isn’t the usual visitor, but he does claim illness and injury. He may avoid conversation because his infirmities embarrass him, a once-strong man reduced to no more than fishing.”
Miss Pringle stuck out her lower lip. “Poor fellow.”
“I don’t think he wants our pity,” her sister informed her. “But I would appreciate a gentleman’s perspective on the matter. You must meet him, Lieutenant.”
“Perhaps when you come for church services tomorrow,” Miss Pringle suggested.
He hesitated. “I’ll stop by later today when we finish afternoon patrol.” With a tip of his hat, he left them.
Kate excused herself from her guests and entered the hotel, thinking. So, Will still would not commit to attending services. She wasn’t sure why that troubled her. She’d certainly avoided Mr. Yates’s preaching. And perhaps the Army required that Will lead his own services in camp on Sunday mornings. She should ask him.
After the baseball game and the earthquake, the rest of the day seemed slow, for all she had plenty to do. The quake had shaken loose some of the dishes in the kitchen. Only a few had broken, but she helped Pansy sweep up and reposition the others. She also kept an eye out for Mr. Jones, but he didn’t return to the hotel until the evening was well advanced, and Will and his men had already retired to their camp.
“I thought Mrs. Guthrie might appreciate these,” he said, holding up a brace of trout, their speckled sides striped with crimson.
“She certainly will,” Kate said, stepping aside for him to pass her for the kitchen. “I’m glad you had such luck today.”
“I used to enjoy all the manly sports,” he assured her before disappearing inside. Kate heard Alberta’s exclamation all the way through the door.
It seemed Mr. Jones had finally met with success. She’d had guests who spent hours in a cool stream, casting and reeling. Nice of him to share his riches with the rest of the guests. The trout was excellent fried and surrounded by the last of the green beans. And Mr. Jones spent the evening on the sofa, listening to Danny tell him all about the baseball game. Hard to fault a man for that.
Mr. Yates must have preached at Mammoth Hot Springs or Norris first on Sunday, because he didn’t arrive until early afternoon. Alberta
, Pansy, Caleb, Miss Pringle, and Mrs. Pettijohn sat on chairs before the hearth. Kate marched herself away from her duties to join them. Mr. Jones once more made himself scarce, although he had spent part of the morning asking Danny about what other wonders he’d seen in the park. Danny had been only too happy to tell him about the ball game again.
Her son was still riding high from his victory. He wiggled where he sat in the back row, Kate beside him. She patted his shoulder and gave him a look, and he sat taller as Mr. Yates opened in prayer. Kate didn’t know the hymn the minister started next, but Mrs. Pettijohn belted it out with a gusto that brought a smile to his face.
Across the room, the door to the kitchen cracked open, and Will glanced out. Kate slipped out of her seat to meet him.
“We’re just starting,” she whispered as Mrs. Pettijohn launched into the third verse. “You’re welcome to join us.”
“It’s been a long time since I attended worship,” he whispered back.
So, no services in the Army camp either. “It’s easy to fall out of the habit,” Kate assured him. “It won’t take long. Mr. Yates doesn’t preach for hours like some ministers.”
“Maybe next Sunday,” he said. “I just thought I’d see if I could meet your mysterious guest.”
“He left,” Kate offered. “Check the geyser field.”
He nodded. Disappointment fell over her as the door swung shut. But Mrs. Pettijohn warbled to a stop, and Kate hurried back to her place beside Danny.
Standing before the hearth, Mr. Yates adjusted the spectacles on his broad-tipped nose.
“I take my text today from Luke. Caleb, you do not have my permission to sleep.”
Caleb jerked upright in his seat as Pansy elbowed him.
Mr. Yates dropped his voice, tone conspiratorial. “Imagine this. President Cleveland has come to your town and decides to dine at your house. Oh, what a day!”
Pansy leaned closer to Alberta. “Almost as big a day as when Lieutenant Kingman visited.”
Alberta put a finger to her lips.
“How much time will it take you to prepare?” Mr. Yates asked them. “A few hours? A few days?”