She stepped to the side. “Will you come in? I have soup cooking. It’s not done yet, but we can visit.”
Dragoon shook his head, his hat clutched in both hands. “Thank you, Miss Lorelei. We’ve just come from the ranch to tell you Miz Juniper’s doin’ poorly.”
Her pulse surged again, and a lump lodged in her throat. “My sis—” She cleared her throat to bring her voice back. “What happened? What’s wrong now?” She knew she should have gone to help Juniper instead of trekking off with Rosemary and White Horse. Her instincts had told her June needed her. Why hadn’t she listened?
Ol’ Henry shook his head. “Miss Rosemary said it’s just the baby. She said she doesn’t think anything special is wrong.”
She searched his weathered face for what he wasn’t saying. “But youdothink something is wrong.” Why else would they have come to get her?
He lifted a slow shrug. “She looked a bit worried. And ol’ Riley is beside hisself.”
Dragoon’s mouth lifted at the corners. Riley had trapped with these men for many months before she and her sisters met them. These two likely knew him better than she did.
She spun and struggled to think of what she should take with her. “I’ll go there now. Did they ask me to bring anything?”
“No, ma’am. They didn’t actually ask you to come. Miss Faith just thought you’d want to know.”
Of course she would go. She gathered up her extra pair of underthings and her clean apron. She’d take stock of Juniper, then decide whether she should stay the night at the ranch.
“How can I help you?” Tanner’s voice hummed low behind her.
She glanced back at him. He’d entered the cabin, and the sight of him standing there, concern marking his features and softening his eyes, made her want to fling herself into his arms. To absorb some of his strength. If Dragoon and Ol’ Henry weren’t standing at the doorway, she might have done so.
But instead she picked up her pack and turned to face him fully, using the satchel as a buffer between them. “I’m going to see what I can do for Juniper. Once I know what’s needed, I’ll be back. Either tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest. Can you and White Horse see to Curly and Frisco?”
His brow lowered in confusion. “Frisco?”
Another pain pressed on her chest. She hadn’t even had a chance to tell him what she’d named the mule. “That’s what I’m calling our new friend, after a mule we used to have on our ranch when I was younger.” She turned to the soup still simmering over the fire. “White Horse knows how to doctor them, I think, but he’ll need help holding each animal. Just make sure you scrape the scab off and pour water over her wounds before putting fresh salve on.”
A new thought slipped in, and she spun back to him. “Your shoulder.” She searched out the place where the circle of blood had been. There was no sign of that stain on his shirt now. She looked up at his eyes to gauge the pain. “Maybe you’d better not help with the animals. Are you putting on the salve I sent you?”
That distant look appeared in his eyes again, but his throat worked. “I’m fine, Lorelei. It’s only a scratch. Don’t worry about us. White Horse and I can manage the animals. Take care of your sister.”
The burn of tears surged, so she turned away. Why was she getting emotionalnow, of all times?
She reached for the leather pads to protect her hands from the heat of the pot. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I’ll carry that.” Tanner stepped up beside her and reached for the leather pieces.
As he took the pot from her, her mind finally recalled her former plans. “Here, pour some in this kettle for you and White Horse to eat tonight. I planned to split it between us and my sisters.”
“Just take it all with you.”
Would he really refuse this offering too? She spun onhim and bit out her words. “Eat the stew, Tanner. Let me do this one thing for you. Please.”
He blinked and drew back. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” She reached for the kettle again and picked it up this time. The man was harder to care for than a skittish horse.
And far more stubborn than that mule in the courtyard.
twenty-three
Dragoon and Ol’ Henry rode with Lorelei back to the ranch, and as they neared the buildings, she scanned the yard for any sign that something awful had happened. She would’ve run her horse this last stretch, but she couldn’t let the stew slosh. Nothing seemed out of place, though.
A mare and a young foal stood in the corral attached to the barn, the place they’d kept Curly. The memory of the trapper who died there tried to raise its awful images, but she pushed them down. That sweet colt must have been born yesterday, for it wobbled a few steps on shaky legs.
As she neared the house, the door opened, and Riley stepped out. He strode toward her with a purposeful step.
