Nothing Short of Wondrous

by Regina Scott

  His reaction to the wasps proved as much. For one moment, as flames licked up the nest and its inhabitants struggled to escape, he’d remembered other bodies lying on the soil, belongings scattered as if they’d tried to run. And that time, none had lived.

  “I gave up trying to think like God,” he said, rising. “But I agree we have a duty. I should get to mine.”

  Her brows went up. “After less than a half hour?”

  A half hour and eight years, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that. “Sorry. Best I can do at the moment. And at least you crossed something off your list.”

  She smiled. “There is that.”

  “I’ll be busy the next few days,” he said, edging for the door and feeling like a coward again, “but I’ll check in when I have time to offer.”

  She nodded, and he left, her curious gaze following him from the hotel.

  He tried to push back the thoughts of his past as he worked that day and into the next week. They weathered a storm that sent lightning and thunder across the basin, the bright jagged forks plunging into the surrounding hills. He followed his men on patrol, made sure they were heeding her advice on where to ride and what to consider, especially Smith, who had remained in camp during her instruction. He ordered his standoffish private to introduce himself to Kate and her staff.

  “I took the liberty,” Smith had assured him. “Interesting woman. I can see why she fascinates you.”

  The others had glanced up from their dinner at his comment.

  “My only fascination,” Will had told them all, “is the Geyser Gateway and its ability to comfortably house those who come to Yellowstone.”

  They had seemed to accept that, though Smith continued to eye him, brow raised.

  The only trouble came from a party at the Fire Hole Hotel on Monday. The six men were determined that they had a right to hunt. Only drawn weapons had convinced them otherwise, thankfully before any elk, deer, or antelope were killed.

  “Not like when Roy Jessup roamed these parts,” one of them complained as Lercher confiscated their guns and ammunition.

  “Mr. Jessup has been escorted from Yellowstone,” Will told him. “He will not be returning.”

  The big-boned man had sneered at him. “That’s what you think.”

  “If you have information about a poacher in the park, you better start talking,” Waxworth had threatened.

  The hunter had shaken his head. “Doesn’t matter. You won’t catch him this time. He’s too savvy. But you better watch your backs.”

  “That’s enough from you,” Waxworth had said. “Or we’ll be watching your backs, all the way out of the park.”

  They’d left the hunters, and the management of the Fire Hole Hotel, with a warning. He could only hope they would heed it.

  Tuesday morning, as Will was overseeing the collection of laundry to be taken to the Geyser Gateway, a teamster drove into camp with supplies from Camp Sheridan at Mammoth Hot Springs, including a load of lumber to begin building a more permanent structure for their station.

  “Enough lumber and nails for about ten-foot by ten-foot square,” Franklin reported to Will after the other supplies had been stowed and the building materials inventoried. The private had worked with a contractor before joining the military.

  “Sure’n that will be making for close quarters,” O’Reilly said, studying the pile.

  “Vill they send vindows too?” Lercher asked with a frown.

  “Glass panes are too difficult to transport,” Will told him. “Private Franklin, you are in charge of the building. Smith will take your place on patrol. As for windows, leave holes on each side and cover them with internal shutters.”

  None of his men looked thrilled by the prospect. Will was just glad to know they’d have a roof over their heads before winter, even if that roof would have to be made of sod.

  Then again, sod was a lot easier to deal with than Kate’s cedar shakes.

  That was her next task for him when he reported for duty on Wednesday—repairing the inn’s roof where a windstorm had displaced some of the cedar.

  “I have a box of shakes from the lumber mill at Bozeman,” she said, pointing him toward the barn, “a mallet, and a ladder. Tap any loose shingles back into line, and replace any that have been cracked or lost.”

  He studied the sharply slanted roof two stories above him. “You don’t have a mountain goat you could ask?”

  “Alas, they’re busy with the laundry,” she said.

  “Eagle?” he tried.

  “At a ball at Mammoth Hot Springs. It will have to be the cavalry.”

  He saluted her. “Ma’am.”

  With an encouraging smile, she returned to the inn.

  Her son came out onto the veranda as Will was positioning the ladder. His blue eyes brightened. “Can I come up too?”

  “Officers only,” Will said, trying to think how to carry the shakes and a mallet up the wooden ladder.

  “But I could help,” Danny protested. “I’m really good at climbing, and I could show you the places that need to be fixed.”

  No way was he allowing the boy on that precarious slope.

  “You know what would help the most?” Will asked.

  Danny shook his head.

  Will pointed to the box of shakes and then the roof. “Figure how to get those up there.”

  Danny came down the steps and turned to look up at the roof. Then he shot Will a grin that looked suspiciously like his mother’s. “That’s easy.”

  An hour later, Will heard Kate’s voice below. “What are you doing!”

  He shifted carefully and glanced down. She had her hands on the hips of her tailored blue dress and her head was bent as she looked down at her son. Sunlight sparkled in the black tresses.

  “Helping Lieutenant Prescott,” Danny said. “Watch.” He picked up a shake from the box, heaved back his arm, and let it fly. The cedar clattered down within a foot of Will. He reached out to keep it from sliding farther.

  “You could have hit him,” Kate scolded. “Or worse, broke a window.”

  “No, ma’am,” Will called down. “He has a real talent for it. He hasn’t missed yet.”

  Danny puffed himself up.

  Kate shifted on her feet, setting her skirts to swinging. He could see the struggle in her. Pride in her son warred with concern for his safety.

  “What if one slides off, hits you on the head?” she asked the boy.

  Danny rolled his eyes. “I would see it coming, Ma. Besides, Lieutenant Prescott is good too. He only let one slide off.”

  Kate aimed her glare his way.

  Will held up his hands and nearly lost his balance. “What can I say?” he called down when he’d righted himself. “The eagles are still at the ball.”

  “What ball?” Danny asked, brows lifting.

  “He means a dance,” Kate explained.

  “Eagles go dancing?”

  Her face softened. “You might think so the way they ride the wind.”

  “So can I keep helping?” Danny asked.

  “Please?” Will sent down.

  “Please?” Danny repeated with considerably more of a wheedle in his voice.

  She laid a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Yes, Danny. It sounds like you and Lieutenant Prescott have worked things out so both of you are safe.”

  She glanced up at him again, and he nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  She released her son. “You’re welcome, Lieutenant. It’s nice having two men about the house again.”

  “Like Pa,” Danny said.

  The mallet nearly slipped from his grip. It had been a long time since anyone, especially himself, had considered him a candidate for a husband or a father. He wasn’t sure how long Kate had been a widow, but surely she’d correct her son.

  Instead, her smile was sweeter than her usual grin, as if she wasn’t opposed to the idea.

  He stared at her, stunned.

  She gazed back, assessing, challeng
ing, but her cheeks were turning redder than O’Reilly’s hair. He couldn’t speak as she dropped her gaze at last and hurried for the inn.

  Which was for the best. Very likely neither of them was ready to think about Will taking a more formal role in the life of the Geyser Gateway Inn, or the heart of its pretty owner.

  7

  Kate swept into the hotel, feeling as if her face were on fire. What was she doing staring so boldly at Will Prescott?

  Danny had compared him to Toby. Toby had been friend, comforter, husband, yet he’d rarely made her feel as if she was the most precious being in the world. But sometimes, the look on Will’s face and the tone of his voice combined to make her feel positively beautiful. And his hard work was only to be praised. That must be why she admired him so much.

  Still, she and Danny weren’t the only ones who admired Will’s presence at the inn. Having the cavalry around certainly affected Kate’s visitors. Lady travelers were more likely to venture out when they saw a man in blue riding by. Gentlemen stopped bringing back souvenirs of the pieces they’d broken off the geysers. She hadn’t had to pull out her rifle in days, and she hadn’t spotted any newly carved marks on the formations or the trees when she did her morning and afternoon sweeps of the area. And Ida reported no more forks missing.

  “An excellent improvement,” Elijah agreed when he brought her the next group of guests on Wednesday. “I hear Captain Harris has Mammoth Hot Springs nearly licked into shape as well. A shame the season’s almost over.”

  Kate felt it too. Temperatures were slowly dropping. The late wildflowers had appeared in the meadows beyond the circuit road, yellows and blues and whites poking up sleepy heads. She and her maids had been to pick the last of the huckleberries. The basin would see its first frost soon. She had a lot to do to be ready to ride out the winter.

  Will finished the roof on Thursday afternoon. He climbed down the ladder and jumped the last three rungs to land on the chalky soil with a puff of dust that coated his boots.

  “Mission accomplished, General,” he told her as she came in from her afternoon sweep.

  She smiled. “Well done, Lieutenant. You can start on the shutters next. I want them straight and oiled before the next windstorm.”

  He saluted. “Ma’am.”

  Danny, who had been waiting on the ground, saluted as well. “Ma’am.”

  “Ah, no, Private Tremaine,” Kate said. “I have another mission for you.”

  Danny’s face fell. “Don’t we have enough wood?”

  It might not be the most glamorous job, but neither were many of the routines around the inn.

  “Stack one more row,” Kate compromised. “Then you can come help me.”

  Danny’s eyes narrowed. “What will you be doing?”

  Kate wiggled her brows. “Painting. Just down the wall from Lieutenant Prescott.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Danny ran for the back of the inn.

  “Never knew painting was such a treat,” Will said, watching him round the corner.

  “I have a feeling the treat isn’t the painting,” Kate said. “It’s you.”

  “Best I get the hammer and the oil can.” He turned away and headed for the barn.

  Kate shook her head. He was so different from Toby. From most of the men she’d known, truth be told. Both her father and Toby had preened for any praise given. Toby had gone so far as to encourage it.

  “Excellent piece of work, if I say so myself,” he had declared after putting up signs displaying the names of the various geysers. Then he’d looked to her.

  “Very helpful,” Kate had said, taking her cue.

  “Attractive too,” he’d pointed out. “Black lettering on white. The new superintendent should be pleased. Do you think the guests will like them?”

  Before he was satisfied, she’d had to assure him that the superintendent at the time, his assistants, and the hotel guests would admire them as much as she did. He’d nodded along, but she’d heard him pointing out his handiwork to visitors for weeks afterward.

  Will never sought approval. In fact, praise and appreciation seemed to make him uncomfortable. He appeared to be confident he’d accomplished what he set out to do, and that was enough. Rather commendable.

  Not that he’d accept praise for those traits either.

  A short time later, she was on the veranda, swathed in an apron and armed with a paintbrush, touching up spots along the front of the hotel. The southwest wall on her left bore most of the brunt of the wind, but her guests’ first impression of the hotel was the more important. She still remembered her first impression when Toby had brought her here after learning that their investment might be in jeopardy.

  Toby had invested in many things, sometimes only a little and often with as little return. It was part of his visionary nature, the same nature that had become obsessed with taking over the lease from the original owner. Mr. Carter, an entrepreneur originally from the Boston area, had built the Geyser Gateway and convinced old acquaintances, like Toby and his father, to invest.

  “Think of all the people who will flock to a national park,” Toby had said, eyes gleaming. “And we can visit there every year if we like.”

  Then Mr. Carter had been injured. He’d written that unless one of his investors could arrange for a new innkeeper, they’d all lose their money. Toby had insisted that he and Kate come out to see the place. One night at the inn, two days in this glorious country, and she’d offered him the money her parents had left her to buy out the other investors. They had never returned to Boston. She never planned to leave. Toby would certainly never leave. His body was buried in the cemetery at Mammoth Hot Springs with a simple stone cross she’d commissioned in Bozeman.

  But she and Danny might be forced to leave if she couldn’t prove to Captain Harris that the Geyser Gateway had as good a service or better than any other park hotel. And the hope of that ten-year lease beckoned. She could rest secure that she and Danny had a home. Captain Harris just had to see the glory of the Geyser Gateway.

  So, she kept working. With a wire brush, she scraped off the loose paint, then covered the raw wood with yellow. Butter yellow, Toby had claimed when he’d brought home the gallons of paint the first time. She couldn’t deny it was cheerful.

  Just down the way, Will pushed up on a shutter and held it in place while he tightened the hinges. Then he squeezed out a few drips from the oil can.

  “That looks much better,” Kate told him.

  He swung the shutter back and forth as if testing it. “It should do. When do you and Danny leave for the winter?”

  Kate chuckled as she rasped the wire brush over the next piece of wood. “Hoping to get out of our deal sooner rather than later?”

  He stepped back to eye the shutter as if confirming its alignment. “No. Just trying to determine the amount of time my men and I have to prepare. Captain Harris sent lumber for a permanent building.”

  “You’d better get to work then,” Kate said, slathering on paint. “I figure four weeks, maybe six if we’re lucky, before the snow starts flying.”

  He grabbed the shutter on the other side of the window and nudged it up and out. “Might be enough time for what we have. Franklin figures we can construct a ten-by-ten shanty.”

  She paused. “For six men?”

  He tightened the hinge. “Six men, six months. We’ll either be a band of brothers or mortal enemies by the end.”

  Kate shuddered as she returned to her work. “You won’t make it. The supplies alone will take up most of the space. I know how much we have to put up for Alberta, Danny, and me.”

  Now he paused. “You overwinter?”

  “We’re one of the few,” she acknowledged. “We move our beds to the salon and only heat it and the kitchen. We stock the cellar under the kitchen to the rim. We do get an occasional guest—usually a visiting professor or an avid gamesman. And the presence of the geysers means this area keeps a little less snow on the ground than in the higher elevations of the park
.”

  He shook his head. “Two women and a boy alone for months. Is that safe?”

  She grinned at him. “You wait, Lieutenant. There’s nothing like a Yellowstone winter. Few venture in. Many of the animals hibernate. It’s probably the safest time to be out here.”

  “Done!” Danny shouted as he ran around the side of the hotel. “Where should I paint, General?”

  Much as she approved of him copying Will, she couldn’t quite accustom herself to being called by a military rank.

  “Where should I paint, Mother?” she suggested.

  “Yes, where?” He scampered up the steps and to her side.

  Will moved to the shutter closest to her. Kate handed Danny the wire brush. “Why don’t you buff off the old paint, and I’ll follow with the new?”

  “Deal.” Danny set to work.

  Kate painted on the yellow and stepped back to check for other bare patches. That’s when she noticed Will hadn’t moved. Indeed, her cheeks warmed in his regard.

  “You missed a spot,” he said.

  Kate frowned, glancing at the wall. “Where?”

  He closed the distance between them. “Just there.” His thumb caressed her cheek.

  She couldn’t seem to breathe, to move. She was tumbling, into his gaze, toward his embrace.

  No, no, no. Such feelings were not in her plan. She had so much to do. He wouldn’t be here long. She had to take care of Danny. She knew the dangers of falling in love again.

  Would those excuses be enough to convince her heart?

  No, no, no. Where had these feelings come from? He wanted to hold her, to protect her as fiercely as she protected her son and these lands. But he had a job to do, men to lead. Lercher, Waxworth, Franklin, and the others were his family now. He was still atoning for his actions eight years ago. He had enough on his hands without the added responsibility of Kate and Danny.

  He pulled away. “There. No harm done.”

  “None at all,” she said, but her eyes narrowed as if she didn’t believe that. She turned away from him to inspect her son’s work.