“So tell me. Are you thinking what I am thinking about Sullivan and his family?” Ryker asked.
“There’s a chance they are still alive.”
“You know better. It has been more than a year since anyone heard from them. We’ll find bones if we find anything, and then only if we find the valley and their cabin.”
“Do you always look at the bright side?”
Ryker laughed again. “I like you, King. For a mountain man you would make a fine schoolmarm.”
The mare was floundering. Stones and dirt cascaded from under her scrabbling hooves as she sought to keep her balance. Erleen leaned well back, the reins taut in her white-knuckled hands.
Cupping a hand to his mouth, Nate hollered, “Bend forward, over the saddle!”
“See what I mean about yacks?” Ryker said. “These infants don’t even know how to ride.”
“Bend forward!” Nate shouted again, and this time the woman listened. Almost immediately, the mare regained its footing and laboriously climbed the final twenty feet to the shelf.
“Praise God!” Erleen exclaimed. “I thought for sure I would take an awful fall.”
Ryker winked at Nate. “See what I’ve had to put up with?”
“How much farther to the pass?” Erleen asked.
“Another hour yet.” Nate checked the rest, but no one else was in trouble. Peter was a fair rider. The four youngsters did better than their parents, but none of them could compare to Aunt Aggie, who controlled her mount with superb skill. “That sister of yours can handle herself.”
“Agatha? Well, she is older than me by almost twenty years.” Erleen fiddled with her bonnet. “Our folks had nine children. She was the eldest, and I was the youngest.”
Ryker said, “One kid would be one too many for me. Brats at ten are brats at twenty, and I can do without the aggravation.”
“Must you be so crude, Mr. Ryker? I have asked you before to be civil, and it would delight me greatly if you would at least try.”
“What are you in a huff about? All I said was that most kids are brats.”
Peter joined them, then the girls, then Fitch and Harper. Last to reach safety was Aunt Aggie. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were twinkling with excitement. She brightened even more when Nate complimented her riding.
“Thank you, kind sir. It is unfortunate you have a wife. My third husband died on me five years ago and I have not come across a likely replacement.”
Erleen colored from neckline to hairline. “Is there no end? Have you no modesty or decorum? And in front of Anora and Tyne, no less.”
“That’s all right, Mother,” Anora said. “We don’t mind. We like Aunt Aggie.”
“She is the best aunt ever,” Tyne agreed.
“Agatha can be charming, I grant you,” Erleen responded. “But she can also be as crude as Mr. Ryker, and I would rather she doesn’t influence you with her sinful ways.”
“Oh Lord,” Aunt Aggie said.
“Don’t take that tone with me, sister. Three husbands is two too many. You always have been too lax when it comes Tomen and your tart tongue.”
“I should hope so,” Aunt Aggie said.
Since Peter was imitating a lump of clay, Nate held up a hand. “Enough, ladies. I don’t care to listen to you bicker every foot of the way.”
“Oh, this is normal for us,” Aunt Aggie said. “My little sister has always thought she is better than I. She never passes up an opportunity to point out my flaws.”
“You are impossible,” Erleen said.
Peter finally stirred. “You heard Mr. King.”
Nate reined the bay around. Other than pockets of scrub brush and a few small boulders, the next slope presented no problems. He twisted to mention to the others to be sure to string out in single file, and happened to glance past them at the forest below.
It took a few seconds for Nate to realize what he was seeing. Then he blinked and it was gone.
Ryker was next to him, and asked, “What was that look on your face just now?”
“Have you seen sign of anyone following you since you hooked up with the Woodrows?”
“No. Why do you ask?” Ryker twisted to scan the lower slopes. “Is someone trailing us?”
“At least one.”
“White or red?”
“He was too far off, and in the shadows.”
“So it could be either.” Ryker scowled. “Damn. And here I thought I was doing a good job of keeping them safe.”
“I thought you didn’t care about anything except the money.”
“They can all be scalped for all I care,” Ryker snapped. “I’m only thinking of my reputation. People aren’t going to want to hire me for a guide if I go and get some of them killed.”
“Be careful, Edwin.”
“Huh?”
“I’m beginning to like you.”
“Go to hell.” Ryker jabbed his heels and rode on.
Chuckling, Nate stayed where he was and motioned for the rest to go on by him. Peter nodded as he went past. Erleen smiled. Aunt Aggie drew rein.
“Resting so soon? I figured someone with as many muscles as you must have stamina to spare.”
“It’s a good thing my wife isn’t here. She would shoot you.”
Aunt Aggie grinned in delight, then sobered. “Be honest with me. I saw you whispering with Smelly. What is going on?”
“Smelly?”
“My nickname for our guide. Haven’t you noticed? If you are near him when the wind is right, you would swear you were downwind of a barrel of rotten apples. And that is being charitable.”
It was Nate’s turn to grin. “Baths aren’t considered a necessity out here.”
“You must be a reader,” Aunt Aggie said. “I can always tell by the words people use. And only a reader uses ‘necessity’ Smelly would have said something like, ‘Baths ain’t good for you,’ and then scratched his armpit and smelled his fingers.”
Despite his concern, Nate indulged in a belly laugh. “I do happen to own a couple dozen books. I have my mother to thank. She loved to read. She turned me into a reader when I was six and I have been reading ever since.”
“Smart woman. But then readers always are. Our brains need fertilizer just like plants or they go to weed like Smelly’s.”
A cough came from behind her. The four offspring had drawn rein and were waiting for her to go on.
“Our folks are getting too far ahead,” Fitch said.
“We will talk books later,” Aunt Aggie told Nate, and clucked to her horse.
Fitch and Harper rode past. Anora remarked that she was sore from all the riding. Tyne came to a stop and fixed those trusting blue eyes of hers on Nate.
“Why are Indians following us, Mr. King?”
Nate almost swore. “You’ve seen some?”
“Oh, yes. There are four of them. They are being sneaky, but I spotted them when I was swatting at a fly that wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t let on that I knew they were back there.” Tyne chortled. “They are funny, the way they go from tree to tree and try to stay hid.”
“Why didn’t you let me know?”
“I’m sorry. Should I have? No one told me. Mother said that if any Indians came up Tome I was to smile and be friendly so they would be nice, but those Indians haven’t come close yet.” Tyne fluffed at her golden curls. “They must be friendly or they would have tried to hurt us by now. And here I’d heard the most awful things about Indians.”
Nate remembered a Mexican freighter he came across once down near Santa Fe. The Apaches had tied the man upside down to a wagon wheel and lit a fire under his head. Then there were the three Conestogas caught unawares by Comanches. He could think of plenty more, but he preferred not to. “From here on out, little one, you tell me when you spot an Indian. Anytime, day or night, whether I am awake or asleep.”
“I will.” Tyne smiled and slapped her legs against her pinto. “I better catch up. Father gets annoyed if we fall behind.”