Rosie braced her arms across her chest as she stared out at the mountains around them. “I suppose we should search that one next. Then maybe this one to the south.”
Lorelei followed her gaze from the peak on their left to the one on the right. Both rose nearly as tall as this mountain, and they were already several hours into the afternoon. She nodded and held in her sigh. Even if they hunted until it was too dark to see any longer, they wouldn’t finish here today. They’d have to set up camp and explore more tomorrow.
She could only hope she’d be back home to Curly—and Tanner—by tomorrow night.Lord, keep them safe. Things had been quiet lately, at least where Curly was concerned, so surely all would be well for one extra day.
Lorelei should have been back by now.
Tanner stood at the fort wall, staring through one of the larger cracks. No wonder White Horse chose this place to stand guard, though the brave usually positioned himself on the outside of the wall. From this vantage, he had a perfect view of three directions.
Pressure on his leg made him look down to where Curly nuzzled his trousers. That long wet tongue snaked out to lick the cloth, then he drew a bit of it into his mouth to suck. This must be what he did to Lorelei’s skirts, and why she often had round wet spots at the calf’s tongue level.
He eyed the animal. “I’m only letting you do that so you don’t miss Lorelei too much.” The calf had moped all day yesterday, only showing life last evening when Tanner brought the bucket of milk for his feeding.
With damp trousers still in his mouth, Curly eyed him.
Tanner shook his head. “You rascal.”
He lifted his focus back between the logs and stared in the direction Lorelei, Rosemary, and White Horse had disappeared. They’d been gone nearly two days now, or at least a day and a half. Far longer than White Horse had stayed away last time. Tanner had told Lorelei he and Curly would be fine no matter how long she was gone, but he hadn’t really expected her to test those words. What might be keeping them?
A motion from the south caught his gaze. A Native woman rode toward the fort on a bay horse. The animal moved at a quiet walk, its head lowered as though it had been riding a long distance. Was she coming to trade? He’d never had an Indian woman come by herself. Sometimes a few of the Sioux squaws shopped together, but usually theybrought a brave with them. Trappers occasionally came through with their Native wives, but never a woman alone.
When she reined to a halt in front of the trade room, he started toward the back door. Best he take up his position behind the counter.
A few minutes passed before the front door cracked open, allowing in a stream of daylight. He’d left the rear door ajar to light the room so his customer wouldn’t be fully shadowed as she entered. He didn’t like to do that when Lorelei might be in the courtyard in case his visitors caught a glimpse of her. But this time, he’d like as much light on their exchange as possible.
Was she in need of something specific? Or had she simply come for general goods? The latter didn’t seem likely. Only an urgent need would propel a woman alone to his establishment.
She carried in a rolled fur that was wider than she was, a buffalo hide from the looks of it.
He gave the sign of greeting, though she wasn’t looking at him. When he stepped forward to help with the load, she startled and backed away from his outstretched arms, as though he planned to steal the fur.
He forced his frown to shift into a friendly smile and made the sign forhelloagain. She gave no hint whether she understood, which was strange. He’d seen the Sioux women use sign language as well as the men.
He motioned toward the pelt, then made the sign fortrade. He swept his hand around the room to point at all his supplies.
Her gaze followed where he motioned, and she turned hesitantly toward the wall of clothing. She still carried thatheavy fur curled in both her arms, which meant there was no way she could even pick up what she wanted to trade for.
He moved to the trade counter and tapped the wood surface. When he had her attention, he motioned to the hide, then tapped the counter again. She looked hesitant, or perhaps that was worry. She clearly didn’t trust him. But he couldn’t blame her for being leery of a strange man.
He dropped his hands and let her make the decision about whether or not to bring the fur to the counter.
She chose not to.
Watching her brush her fingers over the flannel shirts while maneuvering that heavy load made his hands itch to help. But he couldn’t, not without making her fearful. The best thing he could do to help was let her shop in peace. She didn’t seem like she’d come in search of one particular item, so maybe this was simply a special outing for her.
Did Native women treat themselves to shopping excursions like white women did back east? They likely didn’t have much chance for this kind of browsing, but perhaps they enjoyed visiting when they searched for roots and berries.
This must be a special event for her.
Curly’s urgent bawl drifted from the courtyard, and something in the sound tightened Tanner’s belly. The calf didn’t usually call like that unless he heard Lorelei’s voice. Had she finally returned?
Tanner strode to the doorway and glanced toward the gate she and White Horse would come through. Rosie would probably head straight for the ranch instead of stopping at the fort.
Sure enough, the gate began to open. The wall was tootall to see the person on the other side, but Lorelei would be eager to come check on her young charge.
Tanner barely breathed as he waited for her to appear. She’d filled every other thought since she left, and he hadn’t been able to get the image of her in those trousers out of his mind. He loved that she wore skirts like the beautiful lady she was, but he hadn’t let himself imagine how she would look in the pants her sisters usually donned.
Even now, his mouth went dry at the image that slipped in. If she wore those revealing trousers often, he’d have even more trouble keeping his vow to protect her virtue.
