She offered a hesitant answer. “That sounds like a good plan. At least we have something to try. Especially since we’ve no more leads from the tribes we’ve visited.”
Riley turned to her and Rosie. “The marking that’s on your mounts.” He dipped his chin toward her mare’s shoulder. “Would Steps Right’s horses have had that too?”
Would they have? They’d been so focused on the coloring, the brand hadn’t entered her mind. She turned to Rosie. “When did Papa start marking his herd?”
Rosie was frowning back, clearly trying to think. “When we were little. I remember him drawing out several marks and showing them to us. Asking us which we liked best. You were barely toddling around, and you kept getting slobber on his paper and making the ink run.” Her frown deepened. “It might’ve been around the same time he sent the horses with Mr. Sampson. Maybe. Within a year or so.”
“Who’s Sampson?” Riley’s voice turned sharp.
Juniper stepped in to ease his concern. “Our father’s partner on his journey West. They’d been hearing about the fortunes made by people who spent a winter trapping and hunting in the mountain wilderness, and Mr. Sampson talked Papa into going with him. Our ranch was still small at the time, and I think Papa wanted the money from the furs to build up his herd. Anyway, when they returned the next spring, Mr. Sampson came only to purchase supplies, then return West. Papa sent the horses back with him to take to Steps Right.”
Riley still wore a frown. “How long did Sampson stay in the mountains the second time? Where is he now?”
She looked to Rosemary. Had Papa ever said where he ended up?
Rosie met her gaze, then turned to Riley with a shrug. “I don’t think we ever heard.”
He nodded, though his mouth had formed a grim line. “All right. I suppose we can start asking about the horses.” His manner didn’t seem like he thought this path would lead them to Steps Right. “When we get back to camp, I’ll give you some paper to sketch out the marking so I can show it around.”
As they started up the next hill, the hint of hope that lightened her spirit even gave her mare a quicker step. They had a plan, and if they worked hard enough and asked enough people, surely God would bless their efforts. They could finally find Steps Right and finish this impossible mission.
Fifteen
Though they’d pushed hard on the return trip to the main rendezvous camp, darkness had settled deep through the hills along the Green River by the time the flickers of campfires stretched before them. They were entering the valley at almost the same point as when Juniper and her sisters had first seen this place with the supply wagons, but how different the sight looked now.
Instead of hordes of ants milling around between the lodges, below them lay hundreds of flickering candles. The view seemed magical, like so many fireflies, or like the fairy stories Aunt Gertie used to tell them when she came to visit the ranch each summer.
Instead of aiming toward the campfires, Riley pointed them southward to hobble the horses near the rest of the mounts. All five animals picked up stride as they neared the herd.
Exhaustion weighted Juniper’s limbs, and she couldn’t find the second wind the horses managed. Too, they still needed to cook for Riley in payment for his services as a guide. It looked like collapsing onto their blankets andignoring hungry bellies wouldn’t be an option tonight. Not after he’d done so much to help them.
She glanced over at him. “As soon as we get the horses unsaddled, we’ll get a fire going and a hot meal for you.”
He shook his head. “The fellows at my lodge will have food cooked. We can all eat there tonight. They’ll want to hear our story anyway.”
“What story?” This from Rosie, who’d been silent for a while now. She was probably as tired as Juniper was. Lorelei and Faith looked almost asleep in their saddles.
“About what’s happened to us on this journey.” The moonlight cast a shadow beneath Riley’s raised brows. “We’ve been gone a day longer than expected. They’ll be looking for quite a tale from us. These mountain men don’t have much to keep them occupied at night, so storytelling around the campfire is one of their favorite pastimes.”
Rosie’s voice took on a protective edge. “I’m not sure I want the details of our search spread to a hundred men by morning.”
Riley shook his head. “It’ll likely just be Ol’ Henry, Dragoon, and Jeremiah. And we can choose how much detail we want to give. Just telling who we met up with and how we were treated can be built up into a story interesting enough to satisfy.”
His voice turned serious. “I do think it would be good to tell Ol’ Henry what we’re thinking about the markings on the horses. He’s lived in these parts long enough to have a lot of wisdom and experience. I’d like to get his thoughts on it all.”
Rosie was quiet for a moment, but with the position of the moon, shadows hid her expression. When she spoke,her voice had softened. “I suppose it’s fine to tell him. I know we’ll need to ask everyone about the markings. I’m just not sure I want to spread our suspicion that Steps Right might be hiding from us.”
Was this just Rosie’s protective instincts rising up, or did her intuition tell her to keep that detail secret? Juniper softened her tone to match her sister’s. “Do you think word could get back to Steps Right? Or is there another reason to stay quiet?”
“I don’t know, June. It just seems like one of those details we should keep to ourselves—for now, at least. Riley can embellish the story of who we met with and how hard it was to get any detail from them. He can ask every man within hearing distance whether they’ve seen horses with markings like the ones we’re looking for. But I think we should not mention the rest of it. Except to Ol’ Henry. He seems trustworthy. And he certainly has been out here long enough to have seen the horses. I’d like to know what he says about it all.”
They made quick work of unsaddling the horses, then each of them hoisted their saddles with packs still tied on to carry to camp. Riley propped his saddle upside down over his left shoulder, then reached for Juniper’s. “I can carry one more.”
Her body breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of handing over the heavy load, but it wasn’t fair to ask him to do double the work. “I’ve got it.”
He closed his grip around the pommel and pulled it from her hands anyway. Then, with a familiar motion, he flipped the leather upside down and lifted it to his right shoulder. “You can carry my rifle.” He nodded to his feet, where moonlight glinted off metal.
That she could manage, and she wouldn’t argue any more over giving up the heavier load. But as they started toward camp, Lorelei stepped close to her and muttered in a half-teasing tone, “Slug-a-bed.”
