Something inside him raised its head in interest. "Pups?"
"Two boys an' two girls. Cutest little things. Their daddy's a good herding dog, owned by a rancher who comes to town every week. Their mama's been a good friend to me for years now. You couldn't ask for a better companion."
Part ranch dog, part friend. Sounded like Skipper. But did he dare bring a young pup home? If it brought a smile to Lillian, it would be worth the trouble.
Of course, Dinah would know he was following her suggestion. She might start making other requests. He was his own man though. He could tell her no if he wanted. Nor did he think so highly of himself that he couldn’t recognize good advice when he heard it.
"You think one of those would make a good friend for a lonely little girl?"
Clip grinned. "I've got just the one."
That one turned out to be the runt. A female who wriggled all over Jericho's lap as he drove to the hotel to pick up Dinah. It had taken him longer than he'd expected at the livery, so she stood in front of the building waiting as he approached.
The grin on her face showed she'd seen his little passenger. When he reined the team in beside her, she stepped close, her smile widening. "She's perfect."
The way her eyes lit made her look so pretty he couldn't quite peel his gaze away. It wasn't fair, her gazing up at him like that. Even if she was really just looking at the dog.
He scooped up the pup and held it out to her. "Clip was weaning the litter, so I thought this might be a good one for Lilly."
She took the runt in gentle hands, holding her up at eye level as she spoke to her. "Wait until you meet Lillian. She's going to be your best friend, no doubt about it."
She drew the pup into her chest and raised that beaming gaze up to him. For a moment, she didn't speak, just grinned at him, that smile stretching her pretty mouth and making her blue eyes sparkle.
Tying his belly in knots.
He fumbled for something to say. "You'll have to hold her all day. She doesn't seem fond of sitting still."
Dinah stroked the pup, dipping her chin to look at the animal—who'd stopped squirming in her arms, of course. "I think we can handle her."
She might be able to manage the pup, but when Dinah turned that pretty smile back on him, he wasn't altogether sure he could stand a day of being so near her without doing something he would very much regret.
CHAPTER12
Dinah had her hands full keeping the pup entertained during the long hours on the wagon bench. The animal slept much of the morning, made a mess on the wagon floor once, then yapped at a passing freighter until Dinah worried Jericho might turn and swat her.
He'd proven he wasn't given to temper. But even Dinah could admit the incessant high-pitched bark was annoying. Once they reached the cabin, Lillian's pleasure would make every frustration worth it. And the girl could take over responsibility for all this wiggling energy.
Dinah finally settled the bundle of fur quietly on her lap while she stroked, but then the pup lifted her head at something in the distance. A squirrel no doubt. She'd barked at every one they'd seen so far, and a few that were probably her imagination.
The pup jumped to her feet, straining toward whatever she'd spotted.
"Easy." Dinah kept her voice soft and her strokes steady.
"I think someone's coming. Try not to let her bark if you can." To his credit, Jericho's voice held only a hint of frustration. His stern manner was definitely a cover for the reasonable—even kind—man beneath.
She held the pup to her chest. "No barking. We don't bark at friends."
The oncoming riders were clearer now. A group of five or six. Something looked different about them though.
As they drew closer, the truth jolted through her. These weren't miners or mountain men. They were Indians. Dressed in cloth shirts and leather trousers, just like Two Stones had been. But also like so many other men she'd met since leaving the steamer in Fort Benton. What set these natives apart was their black hair and something in the way they rode their horses.
She glanced at Jericho. She was learning not to make assumptions about a man's character by the way he looked or his occupation. "Do you know them?"
He was eyeing the riders, but he hadn't stopped the wagon. Just kept driving down the road as if they were passing a group of miners. "I think so. That looks like Two Stones’s cousin. They're probably Salish. A hunting party, from the look of the pack horses."
When the group reached them, the road was wide enough for them to come alongside, and Jericho reined in the team. The men halted their horses beside the wagon, one of them raising his hand in greeting.
Jericho spoke first, but not in English. She couldn't help studying him. She'd had no idea he spoke a native language, though with Two Stones such a good friend of their family, it made sense.
