“Does she like dolls? I have four. One I like a lot, but Mother wouldn’t let me bring it. She said it would only get lost or dirty and I could go without until we get home. But I miss it. The doll’s name is Mindy”
“When Evelyn was little her mother made a Sho-shone doll for her,” Nate revealed.
All three looked at him.
“Indians have dolls?” Anora said.
“Why wouldn’t they? Girls are the same whether they are red or white, and girls like to play with dolls and dress them up and pretend they are people.”
A shadow fell across the table and Erleen announced, “Time to end your game. I have let you stay up past your bedtime as it is.”
“But no one has won yet,” Anora said. “Can’t we stay up another half an hour?”
“No.”
“Fifteen minutes?”
“Anora Woodrow, you will put away those dominoes and get ready for bed, and I do not want to hear another word out of you. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“The wash basin is on the counter. You can change in the pantry.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Aggie began gathering up the dominoes. “Leave these for me,” she told the girls.
Nate slid his across the table. “Care for a cup of coffee?”
“This late? I wouldn’t sleep a wink.”
The pot on the stove was half full. Nate poured and went back to the table. The family was preparing for bed. The girls were as cute as buttons in their long nightdresses. Tyne’s was pink, Anora’s blue. Erleen had them kneel and say their prayers, then pulled their blankets up to their chins and pecked each on the forehead.
Fitch and Harper stopped their card game and turned in.
Nate figured it wouldn’t be long before the parents and Agatha chased sleep, but all three joined him at the table. “Something on your minds?”
Erleen coughed. “First off, we want to thank you for staying. Mr. Ryker was a terrible disappointment.”
“But he was right. It is dangerous here. Every minute you stay, you put your lives at risk.”
Peter scowled. “It can’t be helped. I care for my brother and his boys. I need to know what happened to them.”
“They are long dead by now,” Nate said bluntly.
“Possibly. Even probably. But we won’t know for sure until we find them or their remains.”
“You’re asking the impossible.”
“My wife and I have talked it over and we are in agreement. We intend to scour the valley from one end to the other.”
“You might not find anything.”
“Unless someone buried them there will be bones, at the very least. The remains could reveal their fate.”
“And if we don’t find anything?” Nate asked. “How long are you willing to put your family in peril before you decide enough is enough and return to civilization?”
“We have given ourselves a week. If we haven’t found Sully or the boys by then, we will pack up and head for Bent’s Fort. You are welcome to accompany us.”
“I’ll see you as far as the foothills,” Nate offered. That should be near enough. At the trading post they could hire another guide to see them across the prairie to the Mississippi.
“Your Shoshone friends will wonder what has become of you,” Aunt Aggie said.
Just then, Philberta commenced to toss about and mutter in her sleep, her hands clenching and un-clenching.
“The poor dear,” Erleen commiserated. “She’s suffered terribly. It’s a wonder she is still alive.”
“One of us must stay with her at all times while the rest are off searching,” Peter said.
Nate set down his cup. “The only ones who will do any searching are you and me.”
“I beg your pardon? My sons are perfectly capable of lending a hand. And my wife and Agatha have volunteered to help.”
“The more of us who search,” Aunt Aggie said, “the sooner we can be done and on our way.”
“No.”
“You overstep yourself, Mr. King,” Peter said. “I appreciate your concern for our welfare, but it is my brother who has gone missing, my nephews who have vanished. I have the final say.”
Nate sighed.
“My husband has it exactly right,” Erleen parroted. “It’s our family, our responsibility. If you want to help we will be eternally grateful, but it is ours to do.”
Aunt Aggie agreed. “As much as I might like to side with you, Nate, I can’t. Family is family. We must always be there for one another.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“Which is?” Peter asked.
“That all of you could end up like Sully and his sons. Do you really want to bury one another? Do you want to bury Tyne and Anora?”
Erleen puffed out her cheeks like an agitated chipmunk. “That was uncalled for. We love them dearly. The last thing we want is for them to come to harm.Which is why they will stay at the cabin with an adult to watch over them while the rest of us are off searching.”
“Then do me one favor,” Nate said. “Don’t scatter all over. Hunt in a group. You are less likely to be attacked.”
“Staying together would slow the search,” Peter objected. “We must split up. Work in pairs, say. And everyone will have a gun. That way we will be perfectly safe.”
“Mr. King,” Erleen took up the argument, “we don’t know that Sully and his boys were set upon by hostiles. It could be they were attacked by a wild beast. A grizzly, perhaps. Or a wolverine. I hear they are especially savage. Or maybe Sully and his sons had a mishap. Accidents happen, you know.”
Disgusted, Nate stood and took hold of his rifle. “I need some air.” He closed the front door quietly, then stood letting the cool breeze play over him. Off up the valley an owl hooted, a commonplace call, reassuring in its normalcy.
Nate walked around to the rear of the cabin to check on the horses. The corral was barely big enough to hold them but it had to do. His bay came over to nuzzle him and receive a few pats.
Since the night was moonless, the valley floor was plunged in gloom. The high cliffs blocked out most of the starlight.
Nate groped along the rails until he was at the gate and verified it was tied shut.
All appeared peaceful, but Nate wasn’t fooled. Nowhere was the old saying about appearances being deceiving more appropriate than in the wild. Nothing was ever as it seemed. Tranquil woods might hide painted warriors. The high grass of a scenic mountain meadow might conceal a crouching cougar. A person must always be on his guard.
Nate turned to retrace his steps. He was almost to the cabin when the undergrowth bordering it crackled. Crouching, Nate sought the source.
Mired in murk, something was moving low to the ground.
Nate tensed. No meat-eater would make so much noise. A porcupine, maybe. Or a small bear.
Suddenly the sound stopped.
Nate imagined the animal had caught his scent. In a few moments it would wander away on its nocturnal rounds. But the night stayed silent save for the owl up the valley and the gurgling of the stream.
Nate had never known a porcupine or a bear to stay still so long. They loved to roam and poke their snouts into everything that interested them. He scoured the ground in his vicinity, but only saw a few downed branches and a log.
The next second the log moved.
Nate sighted down the Hawken. It had to be a man. A man who was stalking him. He fixed the sights on what might be the man’s head.
Then the figure gasped and said something in a tongue Nate didn’t speak but which he was familiar with. Wary of a trick, Nate stayed where he was.
The man crawled closer. Or, rather, pulled himself closer, using both of his arms and taking a ragged breath before each pull.