“Jacob Munroe, fantastic to see you!” Danny bounded up and clasped Jacob in an eager handshake. “You two ready to go?”
Jacob wrinkled his brow, his eyes flickering to Kate. She jumped in quickly. “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Munroe, but I knew Danny would hate to miss out.”
“Oh, ah, not at all. Glad to have you join us, Danny.” He smiled good-naturedly. Was that a flash of disappointment she saw in his face?
“Well”—Danny lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned in close, glancing surreptitiously over his shoulder—“I’ve got Ian holdin’ down the fort, but we might want to leave now before Ma changes her mind and calls us back to scrub pots or somethin’.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Danny!” Kate said with a roll of her eyes, but she glanced back at the wagon and mounted quickly all the same.
The trio quickly cleared the muddy trail and ambled out into the seemingly untouched prairie as the gray curtain of rain welcomed them, muting the sounds of the train, enfolding them in soft silence. The mist mingled with the scent of sage as the delicate leaves were crushed by their passage. Kate breathed deep, feeling the tension melting away. Letting the young men talk, she let her mind drift, dwelling on nothing but the feel of her horse beneath her and the quiet beauty of the moment.
Danny’s exaggerated storytelling was soon too animated to ignore, and, coming back into the present, she discovered that her twin was retelling a story of roping a steer that had somehow grown to include much more danger and deeds of heroism than the first time she’d heard it. She glanced over at Jacob. He lounged comfortably in the saddle, obviously suppressing a grin as he added exclamations of “I’ll be!” and “You don’t say!” at all of Danny’s dramatic pauses, and Kate listened, eyebrows climbing, as Danny’s tale grew wilder and wilder, clearly reveling in suchan appreciative audience. Jacob caught her eye through Danny’s wild gesticulations and winked at her, grinning roguishly. She rolled her eyes and they both laughed.
“I can tell you, this was not funny. I was pinned under that steer’s horns. I coulda been killed! Gored and mutilated beyond recognition! But”—he paused again, dropping his voice, building the intensity—“I looked that steer right in the eye, and with every last bit of strength I had in my body, I grabbed his horns, twisted and heaved, and he was on his side, and faster than lightnin’ I trussed up his feet ’til he couldn’t move. That steer learned not to mess with Danny McGrath!”
Kate and Jacob burst into exaggerated applause, their horses sidestepping and tossing their heads, and called out “bravo” and “well done” to which Danny, hand on chest and grinning widely, responded with many thank yous and I-did-what-had-to-be-dones. Their laughter mingled with the rain and faded into companionable silence as they whispered through the prairie grasses.
A great dark shadow loomed suddenly out of the mist. Like a spire of some giant’s cathedral, Chimney Rock stood indomitable, mist curling like the incense of long forgotten prayers about the boulders and tangled brush strewn about its crumbling foundation. The three riders stopped to admire its jagged height.
“Incredible!” Kate breathed. She shot out of the saddle, tied Sadie to a stout looking sage bush, and climbed up the rocky slope. “Come on!” she called behind her.
Chimney Rock grew with every step until it filled her vision with its brooding, massive presence. She reached the base of the spire and hauled herself up onto the last rocky ledge. Breathing heavy, heedless of the rain, she tilted her head back to look up at what she could see of its dizzying heights before it lost itself amongst the low-lying clouds. She marveled at how the jagged rock was stacked with layers of many-hued stone, as if made by giant masons over centuries, reachinghigher and higher to eventually be lost in the weeping sky. She imagined great and ancient hands placing the rock with the precision of a jeweler, fitting each layer just so, brushing away the dust, a chisel here, mortar there. Kate closed her eyes and saw the stone spire in front of her as one of many, a great row of columns in a colossal hall, the sky its ceiling, and the prairie grass its richly woven carpet.
The boys scrambled up the last of the rocky slope and stood panting on each side of her, heads tipped back to take in the monolith. Kate opened her eyes and reached out to place a warm hand on the cool, dripping stone.
“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Jacob said quietly.
“Mmm,” she responded, still drinking it in.
“It’s like it goes on forever!” Danny said.
“It must be incredibly high,” Kate mused.
“Some people suspect it’s nigh on three hundred feet,” Jacob said, squinting upward.
“I’ll be!” Danny exclaimed. “I wonder what it’s like at the very top.”
“Probably windy,” Jacob said, with such a straight face it made Kate laugh. He looked at her and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Probably spectacular,” Danny countered.
Kate’s eyes were drawn down to the plethora of names carved on the rock in front of her. “So many people. It’s a marvel the West isn’t bursting at the seams already.”
“Oh, there’s room for a few more people yet,” Jacob said ruefully.
Danny moved over to the left, reading out names as he went. “J. T. Kerns, 1852. E. Bristow. Aaron Rose. John C. Fremont, 1843.” He continued, listing off names, until he shouted out excitedly. “Jake, come here! Look at this!”
Kate and Jacob shared a bemused glance and picked their way through the rocks as quickly as they could to reach him. Danny pointed excitedlyat the rock in front of him. “I found a Munroe! Look here, see? ‘T. Munroe, 1857.’”
“How wonderful!” Kate said. “Could he be a relative of yours, Mr. Munroe?”
Danny broke in excitedly. “I’m gonna see if there are any McGraths on here!” And he moved off again, his noisy scrambling fading as he disappeared into the misting rain.
Kate smiled after her brother, but when Jacob didn’t move, she stayed by his side, standing in silence for a long moment. She wanted to enjoy this return to friendship, even though it was incredibly hard to forget his kiss as the damp air brought the smell of his musk eddying toward her. She cleared her throat. “Do you know anyone by the name ‘T. Munroe’?”
When Jacob didn’t respond, she looked over at him. He stood transfixed, staring unblinking at the name carved into the stone in front of him, his face a mask, but deep within those blue eyes swirled a depth of sorrow that cut her to the heart. Thoughts of their kiss faded as concern welled up inside her. She stepped up to him softly, trying to catch his gaze. “Jacob?”
He kept staring at the name. “I don’t think I know this Munroe.”
