Nothing Short of Wondrous

by Regina Scott

  One house? Kate and Pansy could have the space spick-and-span in three hours, less time if they had Sarah and Ida to help. By the way Miss Pringle’s head was cocking, she was making calculations of her own.

  “And now our great president is before you,” Mr. Yates said, leaning toward them, “sitting in your parlor, telling about all the things he’s done, the places he’s gone. Dinner is moments away, your shining glory.”

  Alberta sat taller as if eager to hear what was on the menu.

  “And your sister, the one person you could count on for help today of all days, abandons you to go sit in the parlor with the men and listen.”

  Alberta gasped, and Mrs. Pettijohn glared at Miss Pringle, who shrank in her seat.

  “Such was the case of Martha and Mary,” Mr. Yates said, hands braced on his waistcoat. “Martha worked her fingers to the bone preparing her home for a visit from our Lord. And her sister sat and listened.” He glanced around at his makeshift congregation. “Poor Martha. Things like the state of her home and the quality of her meal had become the most important things in her life.”

  Kate nodded. And why shouldn’t they be? Martha may not have been running a hotel, which would be judged by her guests, but her hospitality was going to be judged by all those who entered that day.

  “And there was Mary, just sitting around, listening!”

  “I’d be fired for sure,” Pansy muttered to Alberta, and the cook nodded before glancing back at Kate and reddening.

  “So, Martha appealed to the one person her sister might obey—our Lord himself. Did he order Mary back to work? Show his displeasure that she thought to listen to the menfolk talk? No. He told Martha to leave her be, for she had chosen the most important thing.”

  He removed his glasses and stared at them all. “Those who come to visit Yellowstone plan and pack and travel far to reach its fabled lands. There are many things they could do. Only one is needful. Stop and listen to the words of the One who created all this for your pleasure. Remember your duty to him today, and every day. Let us pray.”

  Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn climbed to their feet and bowed their heads. So did Alberta and Pansy and Caleb. Kate’s cheeks felt hot and wet. Was she crying? Why? She knew she served a mighty God. His wonders surrounded her.

  But to stop her work, to simply listen?

  To let him dictate the pace of her life?

  She rose with the others, bowed her head. Mr. Yates intoned his prayer, but her heart spoke for her.

  Lord, I feel as if you’ve been urging me to listen. I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to hear. You know I have a hotel to run. I’m both father and mother to Danny now. I made time for this service.

  Why did all that sound like an excuse? What did God want of her?

  Your love, your trust.

  Oh so difficult since Toby had died. Some of the light in her life had left with him.

  Yet God had brought it back in Will. Will was calm, steady, but he still knew how to take time to enjoy things like ice cream and baseball. There was a lesson in that.

  If she could just let go—of her fear, of her hurry.

  My burden is easy, and my yoke is light.

  An amen rumbled through the room, and she looked up in surprise. Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn were going forward to thank Mr. Yates and shake his hand. Alberta and Pansy were edging out of the row. Caleb was already halfway toward the door. Could her burden really be lightened? She certainly felt less encumbered than when she’d sat down for service.

  Danny tugged on her hand. “Could we go somewhere and listen?”

  Kate smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

  “I know where,” Danny said. “Let’s take Lieutenant Prescott to our special spot.”

  She’d fought the urge, told herself Will wouldn’t be in her life long enough, feared for the protection of the great beasts. But taking him up to their spot seemed right, good. A step in trust.

  Approved by someone higher than herself.

  Kate nodded. “As soon as he finishes the morning sweep.”

  Will cantered up the road from the Grand Prismatic Spring. Mr. Jones had once more eluded him, and he’d sent Lercher back to camp while he checked the spring. No one had been in the vicinity. The number of visitors thinned more each day. There was no reason he couldn’t have stayed for services as Kate asked.

  Except he still wasn’t sure of his welcome.

  Oh, he realized she wanted him there. Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn would likely have greeted him happily. The minister wouldn’t understand about his past. But Will knew. And so did God.

  The thought made him flinch. He’d failed so many people that day, but most of all he’d failed his heavenly Father. Would there ever come a time he felt he’d atoned sufficiently to be accepted again?

  He rode into the yard of the Geyser Gateway, and Danny hopped off the porch to meet him as he reined in. “Lieutenant Prescott! You have to come with me.”

  Caleb ran from the side of the hotel and offered to take charge of Bess. Will thanked him, patted the horse, and turned to Danny. “Something wrong?”

  Danny’s blue eyes sparkled. “No. Ma’s going to show you our special spot.”

  He raised his head to eye the door of the hotel. “That so?”

  Danny nodded. “And you’re going to like it. I know you will.”

  The door opened, and Kate swept out onto the porch. “Will! Care to go for a walk?”

  “Wherever you want to lead,” Will assured her.

  She raised her brows as she came down the steps. “That could be a dangerous offer.”

  “No, ma’am,” Will said, meeting her. “I’ve never been in better hands. And I hear it has something to do with a secret.”

  Danny giggled.

  “Go on then,” Kate said with an arch look to her son. “You know the way.”

  Danny ran for the path to the Firehole footbridge.

  “So,” Will said as he walked beside Kate, “I finally get to see what’s off-limits.”

  “You do,” she said, lifting her blue skirts out of a muddy patch on the path.

  “What changed your mind?” he asked.

  She cast him a glance. “I was praying.”

  His mouth felt as dry as if he’d tasted some of the chalky dust of the trail. “About me?”

  “And about me,” she acknowledged. “I realized you’ve been nothing but a help, to Yellowstone, to the Geyser Gateway, to me. You deserve to see this.”

  And he could only feel humbled yet again.

  She let Danny lead them until they reached the opening in the hills near where they had played baseball yesterday. Then she called the boy back to them. As soon as he reached her side, she put a hand on his shoulder and looked to Will.

  “Will, what you are about to see only Danny and I know about,” she said, gaze serious.

  “And Pa,” Danny put in. “He found it first.”

  Kate nodded. “And even though Danny’s father was one of the most talkative men I’ve ever met, he never told another soul except me and Danny. Promise me you will take this secret to your grave.”

  She was so intent. He couldn’t imagine what her late husband had found that would drive such devotion. But he had a duty too. “I can’t promise you that without knowing how the secret will affect my position.”

  She scrunched up her lips a moment. “What if I promise this has nothing to do with the Army?”

  Danny glanced back and forth between them as if he couldn’t decide who would persuade the other.

  “Can you make that promise?” Will challenged her.

  She blew out a breath. “I suppose not. But the Army came to protect Yellowstone, all of Yellowstone. This comes under that mandate.”

  He could not deny his curiosity, or his responsibility. “Very well. I promise to protect Yellowstone with my dying breath.”

  She raised her head. “This way.”

  She started for the meadow, Danny darting ahead, as agile as
a squirrel. Had Will missed something at the game yesterday? Surely there weren’t geysers or hot springs in the area. He’d have noticed. And Kate herself had said there was nothing of interest to her guests.

  She stepped out of the trees, then put out an arm to stop him from going any farther. Danny stopped too, gaze on the sunlit grass.

  Sunlit grass covered in bison.

  Some lay, contentedly chewing. Others moved slowly, calmly, heads lowered as they grazed, beards swinging. Tawny youngsters, most likely born that spring, bounded around each other, teasing, until a mother bumped one back into line.

  They were massive, they were grand. They were the last of their kind.

  Unthinking, Will took a step forward. The largest, with shoulders nearly as high as Will, raised her head and sniffed the air, black eyes glittering as she glanced Will’s way. As if she’d taken his measure, she lowered her head and kept grazing.

  “The wind is blowing our scent away,” Kate said, voice as soft as her look. “Unless we shout or do something equally stupid, they won’t take off or approach.”

  “Good.” He certainly didn’t want them stampeding. That mass would trample them if the horns didn’t sever an artery or puncture a lung first.

  “This is their favorite place in the park,” Danny said, keeping stiller than any time Will had seen.

  “One of them, anyway,” Kate said. “There’s another meadow beyond, through those trees, with a thermal spring that’s just cool enough to be drinkable a few yards from the source. This location is the best-kept secret in Yellowstone—where the bison overwinter. Hunters have been searching for years. We can never let them know about it.”

  “That’s why you didn’t want me to patrol here,” Will said. “Why you tried to dissuade Lieutenant Kingman from using the meadow. How did you make them invisible yesterday?”

  “I suggested they move into the northern meadow,” Kate said.

  Will chuckled, shaking his head. Somehow, he could see even that lead female listening to her. Everyone else did.

  That bison was moving now, one hoof placed precisely before the other. The rest rose, followed her toward the trees. Tribes had revered the shaggy beasts; hunters had coveted their hides, their heads. He knew the statistics. Where once millions had roamed the prairies, now fewer than six hundred were known throughout the nation, many in private herds. Most of the wild animals were in Yellowstone.

  “You have my word,” Will said, “I will tell no one about this place, these animals. I will do all I can to protect them.”

  Her smile blended faith and hope. It reached inside him, brightened the darkest places.

  And he knew then that he would have to find a way to tell her the truth, about his past, and his growing feelings for her.

  19

  He understood. Kate could see it in Will’s rapt expression, hear it in his gravelly voice as he vowed to protect the bison. And her heart soared like a bald eagle riding the wind.

  They followed the bison to the upper meadow, took a seat under the pines, and watched for a while longer. Kate pointed out the younger members of the herd, their tiny horns and humps just popping into view. Danny told Will stories about past encounters.

  “Sometimes the boys visit,” he said, leaning against Will. “Pa called the biggest one Bill.”

  “Buffalo Bill,” Kate whispered to Will.

  He smiled. “I bet he even looks a little like Cody with one of those pointy beards. How often do the cows and calves come here?”

  “Summer through winter,” Kate explained. “The ground on the northern meadow is too soft in the spring.”

  The sun was heading for the west when they returned to the inn.

  Will paused by the hitching post while Danny sped up the steps and into the inn.

  “I’m riding to Old Faithful Tuesday,” Will said. “I want to confirm who’s responsible for watching the Grand Prismatic Spring.” He glanced out across the geyser field and shuffled his feet. “I don’t suppose you could break free to join me.”

  A dozen tasks called for her attention. She had guests arriving, the hotel to prepare for winter. Caleb would be leaving soon. She and Danny had to make sure they knew what needed to be done with the horses, cows, and chickens. And the road to Old Faithful was easy to follow. He didn’t need a guide.

  But nothing seemed more important than being with him.

  Trust. Take time to listen, to enjoy, remember?

  “I’d be delighted,” Kate said. “And I can see the accommodations while I’m there too.”

  He chuckled as his gaze came back to hers. “You never stop working.”

  “Rarely,” she admitted. “What time are you starting?”

  “After breakfast.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  He hesitated, feet once more shifting on the dry ground. Then he nodded and touched his hat. “Ma’am.”

  Kate watched him around the side of the hotel as he headed for the barn. His walk didn’t look quite as confident as usual. Perhaps the sight of the bison had affected him even more than she’d thought. Pleased, she went into the hotel.

  In the salon, Mr. Jones was seated on the closest sofa beside the hearth, Danny at his side. The man still wore his buckskins. She’d concluded he hadn’t brought anything else with him. But his beard was neat, his hair freshly combed, if the precision of his part was any indication.

  “That Lieutenant Prescott is one lucky feller,” her guest said as she approached.

  She put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “How so?”

  “He got to spend the day with Danny and his pretty mama.”

  Was he attempting to flirt with her? Miss Pringle might have giggled. Mrs. Pettijohn would have demanded to know his intentions. But Kate had no interest in his attentions. She never dallied with guests.

  “I forgot to check,” she said, ignoring the remark. “How long will you be with us, Mr. Jones?”

  He shifted closer to Danny and put his hand around her son’s shoulders so that his fingers grazed hers. Kate pulled away.

  “Oh, a few more days at the least,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’ve grown accustomed to the gracious welcome of the Geyser Gateway. It feels like family.”

  “That’s what we hope all our guests feel,” Kate assured him, taking a step back. “Danny, we should see if Alberta needs any help with dinner.”

  “Yes, Ma.” For once, his response sounded more relieved than resentful. He hopped down and walked with her toward the kitchen.

  “Do you like Mr. Jones?” she asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

  “He’s nice,” Danny allowed. “He’s my friend. But sometimes he asks hard questions. He wanted to see the animals. I didn’t like not telling him about our special spot.”

  “It’s difficult to keep the secret,” Kate said as they entered the kitchen. “But I’m proud of you.”

  He went to help Pansy with the dishes.

  So, Danny wasn’t too concerned about their odd guest. But she couldn’t understand what Mr. Jones wanted. Certainly she would never encourage him as she’d encouraged Will.

  Or think about him whatever she did, wherever she went the rest of the evening. She could hardly wait until Tuesday.

  Wakefield and Hoffman brought three men traveling through on Monday afternoon, which kept Kate busier than she’d expected. The snowstorm didn’t help. The temperature had been chilly all morning. Miss Pringle and Mrs. Pettijohn remained hunkered down by the hearth, sipping cups of tea. Mr. Jones hid in his room. The chickens clung to their roost. Caleb pulled shut the doors on the barn and kept the other animals inside.

  The flakes began falling late afternoon from leaden skies. They sizzled and melted on the warm ground at first, winking out in the steam from the geysers like shooting stars. Will and his men patrolled in a swirl of white.

  “I thought you said we had weeks until winter,” he told Kate when he and Private Waxworth came inside to warm up while Caleb saw to their horses.


  Kate spread her hands. “I have no control over the weather.”

  Miss Pringle looked shocked, and Mrs. Pettijohn humphed.

  Danny could scarcely contain himself. “Can we build a snowman, Ma? Throw snowballs in the geysers? They’d melt.”

  “What’s on the ground is more mud than snow,” Kate protested.

  Will pushed away from the hearth, where he’d been standing. “There’s enough for a few snowballs. We have to keep that arm in shape. Come on, Danny.”

  “Coat first,” Kate cautioned before her son could dash out the door. He ran for the stairs and their apartment.

  Will crossed to her side. “You don’t mind?”

  “I don’t mind,” she said, but she couldn’t help her grin. “Only you better watch where his snowballs hit. They’ll likely have a few rocks mixed in.”

  Mrs. Pettijohn rose and shook out her skirts. “I would like to view the combat. Come, Serenity.”

  Her sister gazed up at her. “Must we? It’s sure to be cold.”

  Mrs. Pettijohn eyed her. “Lieutenant Prescott and Private Waxworth valiantly hurling objects at each other—do you truly want to miss that?”

  Miss Pringle turned pink and popped to her feet. “Well, when you put it that way . . .”

  “I thought so.” She turned to Private Waxworth, who appeared to be trying to blend into the stone of the hearth. “Prepare yourself, Private. I expect you to acquit yourself well.”

  Waxworth shot Will a look of appeal.

  Will chuckled. “You heard the lady, Waxworth. You’ve been conscripted.”

  As Danny came down the stairs, shrugging into his thick wool coat, the private stood at attention and saluted. “I will do my utmost, sir.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes. “That’s two against one. Not fair.”

  Will’s mouth quirked. “Care to join us?”

  Perhaps she was learning the lesson God was teaching, for there was no question of her answer. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Miss Pringle clapped her hands.

  A few minutes later, they were all out on the yard, the sisters, Alberta, and Pansy bundled in coats and robes on the veranda; Kate, Danny, Will, and Waxworth in the snow. Pansy had alerted Caleb. He stood on the porch as well. Kate was just glad her three new guests were content to keep warm inside.