The knot that coiled in his belly had doubled, but he had to return to the tents and tell Dragoon.
He trudged back to their little camp where Juniper, Rosemary, and Ol’ Henry worked around the fire. Rosemary was nurturing a flame while Juniper worked among the food bundles. Ol’ Henry poured grounds into his coffeepot.
Juniper noticed him right away, and the sweet smile she offered him fell into a frown. “What’s wrong?” She straightened.
He shot a look toward Dragoon’s tent, where the sound of low snoring could still be heard. Then he turned back to Juniper. “Dragoon’s mare is missing. I’m going to see if I can find her tracks, but I thought he’d want to know too.”
The snoring had ceased, and the shuffle of blankets sounded before the man poked a sleepy-looking face around the oilskin flap. “What’s that you said?”
Riley gave him a grim nod. “Bessie’s not with the herd. I’m going to look for tracks.”
Dragoon blinked as though trying to take in the words. “Where did she go? You think she wandered off?”
His head disappeared back inside the tent before Riley could answer, then a muffled voice sounded within. “Hold on, I’m coming.”
Juniper rose to her feet. “I can look for tracks too.”
He should tell her to stay here and finish her work, but she was just as capable of spotting prints. “The easiest wayin or out of this valley is upriver, so I was going to look there first.”
Ol’ Henry pushed up to his feet with a groan. “We’ll see to breaking camp. I’m sure Dragoon will want to head out if you don’t find her.”
Dragoon nearly stumbled out of the tent, slapping his hat on his head. “Let’s go. Where have you already looked?”
After Riley gave the details, the three of them searched for prints on their way to the pass between the river and the cliff. There was nothing that looked fresher than a few days old.
When they reached the pass, Dragoon spun and scanned the entire area. Thankfully, the fog had completely lifted, so there was no doubt about what they saw. And Bessie definitely wasn’t there.
Dragoon planted his hands at his waist. “We need to spread out. I’ll look along the river. Miss Juniper, keep about twenty strides away from me and search the ground on either side of you. Riley, you work on the other side of her.”
Dragoon seemed to be thinking clearly now, though he had a desperate air about him. Riley nodded, and as Dragoon turned away, Riley shifted his focus to Juniper. Did she feel confident she could do what Dragoon asked?
She must have read the question in his eyes, for she gave him a firm dip of her chin. But then her look turned troubled. “Do you think she was stolen?”
He glanced toward Dragoon, who was already scouring the river’s edge. “I’d say there’s a good chance. She was here with the rest of the horses when I checked them last night, and Dragoon just made new hobbles when we were camping at the rendezvous. There wasn’t a storm that wouldmake her panic and run. Though why someone would come in and grab just her doesn’t make sense. When the natives steal horses, they usually take the whole herd.”
She tipped her head as she watched him. “You think a white man stole her? Because she won the race?”
Juniper had just put into words the suspicion that was growing in his mind since he first counted the horses that morning. “I hope that’s not the case, but it seems likely.” And that meant the man had been following them these past two days.
Watching. Having far too much access to the women.
He turned his gaze southward, the direction they’d come from. The mountain had been steep enough that they’d chosen to go around it by riding through the river. Had their stalker come through the water as well, or up over the peak? And which way had he taken Bessie out of here?
He turned toward the section Dragoon had assigned him to search. “We’d better get started.”
Juniper moved to her section and began studying the ground as Riley did the same with his. Dragoon had already covered a great deal more ground than them, but Riley didn’t rush his search. About halfway down the length of the valley, he found hoofprints from where all the horses had grazed through the night. The hobbles allowed them to move short distances so they could shift to new grass, and the fodder in this area had offered a rich supply.
From ahead, Dragoon turned and called back to them. “Looks like the herd moved to water there in the night. It’s hard to tell, but I didn’t find any tracks that looked like a single horse walking without hobbles.”
Riley nodded and looked over at the river. It stretched wide here, far wider than a horse would usually choose to wade. The animals might even need to swim through the deeper center.
But a rider could certainly push a horse to cross to the other side. If they couldn’t find where Bessie had left this valley, they should cross to the other side of the river and look for tracks there.
By the time he, Juniper, and Dragoon had scoured the valley with no sign of unusual prints—either horse or human—the others had broken camp and saddled the animals. When he shared his thoughts about crossing the river with Dragoon, the man agreed.
They mounted and prepared to cross over in the spot that looked most likely to offer shallow passing. Dragoon rode his pack gelding, though being forced to do so must rub raw the wound of having his prize mare stolen from beneath his nose.
He struck out into the water first, and Riley settled in to ride through with the middle of the group. The sisters had already proven themselves capable horsewomen. They’d clearly spent many long hours in the saddle, and more than just the journey West. Growing up on the horse ranch had given them an advantage there.
