The door flap opened again, this time wide enough to reveal Miss Juniper’s entire face. “We’d like to buy food. And we have questions for you. Do you have provisions we can pay for with coin?”
He shook his head. Coin wasn’t often seen in these parts, and for good reason. You couldn’t eat it, and the supply wagons wouldn’t accept it in trade. “Keep your money. We only have meat left, but there’s plenty of that. Do you need water too? And firewood?”
She glanced sideways again, as though looking to someoneelse for the answer. But she spoke to him as she did so. “We can get those things ourselves. But we have questions. I’m sure we’ll need to ask them to a bunch of people.”
The flap pulled wider, revealing the older sister standing beside Miss Juniper. “Can we come with you to get the meat? That way we can ask as many men as possible along the way. And we’ll pay for the food.”
He glanced around behind him. A few men had been walking one lodge over, but now paused to stare. A native woman was among them, probably the wife of one of the men.
Others would come back soon too. As soon as they realized the ruckus was only a few fool-headed men raising a stir.
He turned to the women again. “What kind of questions? I’ll answer you now. I’m sure I can speak for the rest.” That last bit may not be true, but he could bluff as well as the next man. At least enough to satisfy the curiosity of these females. He’d heard enough tall tales from mountain men to be able to manufacture one or two of his own.
The oldest sister—Miss Rose, or was it Rosemary?—eyed him. “We’ve come looking for someone. I suspect we’ll need to ask a number of people before we find someone who knows her.”
“Her?” He shook his head. “There aren’t any other white women west of the great falls. Except the wives of two missionaries last year, you four are the first who ever ventured this far. It wasn’t a wise choice either. Especially not alone. Some of these men are just curious, but there’s plenty who will imbibe far too much drink and not think twice about...” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything morethan that. Even now, his cheeks burned, and not from the sun already starting to heat the air around them.
Miss Juniper’s face looked a bit rosy too, but her elder sister only straightened. “We’re not looking for a white woman. Her name is Steps Right. She’s from the Peigan Blackfoot tribe. We’re not certain of her age but at least forty years.”
He’d not expected these women to even know the tribe names, much less be searching for a specific woman. “How do you know her?” How could these four have crossed paths with a native, unless maybe on the journey out?
Miss Rose’s scrutiny intensified. “Does that mean you know her?” She seemed to be watching for some deeper reaction from him.
She wouldn’t find duplicity here, at least not on this count. He shook his head. “Never heard of her. There’s a Peigan band camped downriver a ways. The only woman I’ve met at the rendezvous is the wife of Lone Rider.” Meeting her had been a courtesy to Lone Rider, and he’d not asked for an introduction to any others.
Three more men had stopped to watch as he stood here talking. They had no more time.
He backed away a step. “I’ll go get some meat and water. And I’ll ask the fellows I’m rooming with whether they know Steps Right from the Peigan tribe.”
“We’ll come with you.” The fourth sister, who’d been tucked behind these two, now moved into view. What was her name? She had a touch of red in her hair, just enough to distinguish her from her sisters, but not enough to make her stand out in a crowd. She nudged Miss Juniper, or rather, grabbed her arm and tugged her forward.
Riley shook his head once more. These women mightbe accustomed to dealing with men back East, but they’d taken leave of their senses if they thought he’d allow them to stroll with him openly through the camp. “Stay here. I’ll bring what you need and ask your questions. These mountain men haven’t seen a white woman in who knows how long. Even the ones with decent manners will give you more attention than you’re looking for.”
The youngest sister stepped forward, dragging Miss Juniper along. “We’ll not stay holed up in this leather hut all day, if that’s what you’re thinking. You can escort us as we ask around, or we’ll do it on our own.”
He backed up another step as she barged out of the lodge, the other three close behind her. They all seemed to be in accord with her words. The sister who’d been holding a gun on him a heartbeat before reached down and picked up that troublesome coyote pup before following the others through the door opening.
He pressed his lips together. That frustrating animal was the least of his worries now. These four would be as tempting as a buffalo carcass to a pack of hungry wolves when they strolled through camp. Especially if they didn’t mind trading favors for information.
Maybe he and the other three at his lodge could help protect them a little. Ol’ Henry was there, of course, and Jeremiah would be back from trading soon enough. He had no way of knowing how long Dragoon would amuse himself with his distraction, but he’d surely enjoy a bit more fun protecting these four.
He finally nodded. “Come with me, then.” He eyed the oldest sister in her men’s trousers. It was hard to say which would inspire a greater reaction from the men—her shapein those pants, or a bit of ruffle on a dress. Likely either would stir up these women-starved men.
As he turned and started toward his own fire, he couldn’t help shaking his head. He may have just walked himself into more trouble than if he’d tossed a rock at a hungry grizzly.
Juniper’s throat closed so tightly it was hard to get a breath in and out as she gripped Faith’s arm and followed Mr. Turner. The fellow seemed to think they’d taken leave of their senses coming all this way without a chaperone. And as so many hungry eyes turned their way, she was more and more inclined to agree with him.
That horde outside their lodge all morning had been bad enough. At least Rosemary had been able to secure the flimsy leather door flap to shut out their prying looks. And Lorelei had parked herself in the center of the hut, with her rifle aimed at the opening. But out here, there was no barrier against all the ravenous looks.
They edged around several scaffolds that had hides stretched across them. She moved closer to them to pull Faith away from the two men they were passing. Both wore the thick bushy beards, deeply tanned skin, and shoulder-length hair that seemed to be standard issue for these mountain men, but the thick creases marking the exposed skin around the eyes of the one on the left proclaimed him to be at least twenty years older than the fellow on the right.
She accidentally caught the eye of the younger man, and his dark brown beard split to reveal teeth only a few shades lighter as he stepped toward her, anticipation brightening his eyes.
She jerked her attention forward again and tugged Faith faster, nearly trotting on Mr. Turner’s heels. He slowed as they approached a lodge with a campfire in front, where a man sat alone, both hands cradling a tin cup.
Mr. Turner looked at the fire and motioned to the logs placed around it. “Have a seat.” He sent another look around them, as though he expected an army of ... what? Buffalo? Indians? Mountain men foaming at the mouth?
Juniper moved in first and settled on a stump. Lorelei sank down beside her, cradling little Boots, then Faith and Rosemary. She turned her attention to the man whose quiet repose they’d interrupted and offered him a smile of apology. “Hello. Sorry to barge in.”
