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Light the lanterns. Fetch my silk gown. Ring Maude in the kitchen to bring me up some tea. Please be a sweetie and draw me a hot bath,” Casey ordered. “I want the peach bubble bath tonight.”

Develyn and Casey rolled on the bed laughing.

“I haven’t had this much fun since a junior high slumber party,” Develyn giggled.

“I haven’t had this much fun, ever!”

“Casey, no one will believe this scene.”

“I don’t even believe it. Wait until you try to explain this to your friends in Indiana.”

Develyn reached over and slipped her hand into Casey’s. “I think you’ll have to come visit me, just to be a witness.”

Casey squeezed tight. “Is that an invitation?”

“Countess Cree-Ryder, my humble Crawfordsville abode is always open to you. I’d love to have you come visit, anytime.”

“Good. I’ll arrive by Thanksgiving and stay through Christmas. I like big presents and lots of them. Now, what do you think?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Casey stared at her for a minute. “I believe you would, sweet Devy-girl. I’ve never in my life had anyone want me to stick around for weeks.”

“Well, you met her now.”

In the dark, they continued to lie on the bed.

“You got room for ten horses in your backyard?” Casey said.

“No.”

“That’s OK, I’ll keep them indoors. They’re all house- broken …”

Develyn bounced up off the bed. “What?”

Casey pulled herself up. “You are so easy to tease, Miss Dev. Listen, I won’t bring horses, and I won’t stay for six weeks, but I’d love to come visit you sometime this fall or winter.”

“Casey, I meant it about the Thanksgiving-to-Christmas invite.”

“I know you did. But what will your husband say?”

“My husband?” The word exploded from Develyn’s mouth.

“I figure you’ll be married by then.”

“I told you that Quint wasn’t the one.”

Casey struck a match and relit one of the lanterns. “Oh, sure, he’s not the one. That only leaves a million other cowboys who are chasin’ you Miss Dev.” “I think your dress is too tight. It’s making you delusional.” Casey strolled around the room. “Well, before I pass out like that chick in Pirates of the Caribbean, we better plan our escape. Those two security guards will be back as soon as it’s daylight. I suggest we try to sleep, get up about 4 a.m., saddle up and ride away from the house. Even if we can’t find a trail out of the canyon, we can be a long way from the mansion.”

“Do you think they will come back before then?” Develyn peered out the front window at a black Wyoming sky.

“Nope. They aren’t about to admit they saw ghosts.”

Develyn tugged off the musty silk dress. “With all the excitement, I hope we can fall asleep.”

Casey posed in front of the big mirror. “I feel like Ella having to leave the ball at midnight.”

“Ella?”

“Cinder-Ella. She carried the cinders and was named Ella. What do they teach in the fifth grade in Indiana?”

“Not enough, I can see.”

* * *

Develyn sat straight up in the hay when Brownie bit her bare toe. But it wasn’t hay. Nor Brownie.

Nor a bite.

“Ouch!” The dim light from the lantern barely reached the bed.

“Time to get up, Devy-girl.”

“Casey, it’s still dark.”

“Yeah, but daylight will break by the time we saddle up the horses. It’s time to ride back to reality.”

“It’s cold in here.”

“I let the fire go out. Didn’t want smoke in the chimney.”

Develyn pulled on her tennis shoes, then straightened the comforters on the bed. “Is it raining still?”

“No rain. In fact, the wind has been blowing since midnight. I think the ground is dried out.”

“Is it cold?”

“Down here it’s not too bad, but up on top of the rim it will be windy and feel cold.”

Develyn stared in the mirror and tried to comb her hair with her fingers. “Tell me again why we rode off in T-shirts and didn’t bring our jackets.”

“Because we were going to turn around and ride back to the truck. I didn’t have any idea Miss Develyn would act like a teacher-gone-wild and ride off a cliff.”

“So, this is all my fault?” Develyn jammed her straw cowboy hat down on her head.

“Of course it is. And it’s one of the most cherished memories of my life. You know the instant when this adventure became a lifetime moment?” Casey asked.

“When he said, ‘The Countess was a woman of color?’”

“Yes! That’s when all of this exploded with meaning.”

“Well, Countess Cree-Ryder, shall we go for a morning ride?”

“Quite.”

“Shall I have the servants come along with tea and biscuits?”

“Oh, sweetie, let’s just ride alone today,” Casey giggled. “I get so tired of servants waiting on me hand and foot.” She shoved a wool bundle toward Develyn.

“What’s this?”

“Our one souvenir. I found these two wool lap blankets under some bedding. They are still in usable condition.”

“We are going to ride with a blanket across our laps?”

“Nope. I did a few alterations. Pull off your hat and slip it over your shoulders like a poncho.”

“Just like Clint Eastwood?”

“Yeah, do I get to be the good, the bad, or the ugly?” Casey laughed.

Develyn slipped her head through the slit in the wool blanket, then jammed her hat back on. “Honey, we are both good!”

“Yes, we are cute too.”

“Let’s see …” Develyn stared at herself in the mirror. “Thirty hours since our last shower … twenty-four hours since fresh clothes … not even a comb for our hair. Dirt on our faces, dusty blankets for coats, and no idea in the world how to get out of this canyon. Oh, we are cuties, alright.”

“Remember, a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single steep step, so don’t trip. Take my hand,” Casey offered.

“What for?”

“We need to turn out this lantern, and leave it up here.”

“Do you think we can find our way downstairs in the dark?”

“I’ve got cat eyes,” Casey boasted.

Develyn clutched Casey’s strong warm hand as they eased down the stairway toward the second floor.

There was a simultaneous crash and explosive “Ouch!”

“What happened?”

“I ran into the door,” Casey said.

“What about your cat eyes?”

“They ran into the door too.”

Enough daylight broke in the east that when they reached the back porch, Develyn spied My Maria and Popcorn munching tall brown weeds in the backyard.

“They look content enough,” Develyn said.

“That’s because they don’t know what’s goin’ to happen later on.”

“What is going to happen later on?”

“I don’t have a clue,” Casey shrugged.

They saddled the horses as sunlight flooded the canyon.

“Where’s Uncle Henry?” Develyn asked.

“I figure he’ll show up when his mama calls him.”

Develyn yanked the cinch tight and led My Maria around in a circle. “Which direction are we headed?”

“North. That is the opposite route of the gas plant and locked gate.”

Develyn pulled the cinch even tighter. “Uncle Henry? It’s time to go, baby!”

“Well, look at that.” Casey pointed to the wild-rose, vine-covered rock canyon wall behind the house.

Develyn turned to see Uncle Henry’s head peek out of the roses. “Honey, what are you doing back there?”

“How did he get behind the roses? It’s like solid rock.”

“There’s an old vine-covered archway. Maybe it was a cave or a shrine or a fancy outhouse.”

Casey led Popcorn over to Uncle Henry and parted the bushes. “I don’t believe this,” she blurted out.

“If there are dead bodies, I don’t want to hear about it,” Develyn groaned.

“I can’t believe you were right, Ms. Worrell. There’s a narrow trail carved straight up this cliff.”

“Really? And Uncle Henry found it? I told you!” Develyn shouted. “The countess wasn’t going to get pinned in. It’s her escape route.”

“It looks very narrow.”

Develyn pushed her hat back and cleared her throat. “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it. That’s in Matthew 7 someplace.”

“Verses 13 and 14,” Casey replied. “So, we are choosing the narrow gate?”

“What are our choices?” Develyn asked.

“This possible trail out or being arrested.”

“That’s what I thought, O sarape-clad bombshell. Lead on Clintina …”

“Don’t push me, blondie,” Casey growled. “If you would just tell me the name on the grave, I would leave you here with this beautiful mansion …” A smile broke across her face. “All we need is that annoying, repetitive theme song and we could be the Thelma and Louise version of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.”

The trail up the canyon behind the roses proved to be steep and slow. It turned out to be a rock ravine no more than three feet wide, as they zigzagged up the slope of the canyon wall.

“Daylight never reaches down here,” Casey called out. “But neither does the wind.”

“Do you think the count had this trail made?”

“It could have been an old Indian trail, but he certainly used it for an escape.”

Develyn surveyed the rock, no more than two feet from either side of her head. “I think I’m getting claustrophobic. It’s like a crowded elevator in a tall building. You can only take it so long, then you want out to get some fresh air, even if it’s not your floor.”

“Don’t get weird on me Devy-girl. We have quite a ways to go.”

“What if it doesn’t go all the way to the top?”

Casey glanced at Develyn. “There’s a cheery thought. I guess we put these horses in reverse and back down.”

“No, really, Casey. What if this is just a fissure in the rocks and it peters out and we are wedged in here?”

“Put your feet up on My Maria’s neck.”

Develyn stared ahead at Casey’s braid. “Why?”

“It’s gettin’ narrow up here, girl. You don’t want your legs pinned in.”

“Casey, this isn’t funny.”

“Honey, I’m not joking. Put your feet up. If we get stuck you can take your cell phone and call Harrison Ford to fly his helicopter over to rescue us.”

“My cell phone! Yes …” Develyn crammed her hand into her jeans pocket.

“Devy, there is no way possible a signal could drop down in here. And who would you call? Quint?”

“No, I can’t call him.”

“The sheriff? Do you want to tell him that you broke into the LaSage Mansion?”

“I’ll call … eh …”

“Cooper Tallon?”

“No, no. He came out after me before. I can’t admit I’m a complete ditz who gets lost every time she rides on the prairie.”

“Then who?”

“Eh … I could call … Renny!”

“The mustang breaker. What do you expect him to do?”

“He’ll figure out something.”

“In the meantime, keep prodding that paint horse. We might make it out yet.”

Develyn banged her cell phone against her knee. “It doesn’t matter,” she called out. “There’s no reception.”

“Well, what do you know, a dead spot. It’s a wonder someone isn’t down here building a cell tower and putting ads on TV.”

“How’s Uncle Henry doing?” Develyn called out.

“He’s on up the trail a ways, trying to lead us.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Popcorn’s stuck,” Casey admitted.

“Are you serious?

Develyn’s chin dropped as Casey stood up on the saddle. Cree-Ryder pulled a wide-bladed knife out of one boot, and a thin-bladed one out of the other.

“What are you doing?”

Casey stabbed the wide blade in a crack in the rock and pulled herself up about a foot off the saddle. “I’m going for a stroll.” She sliced the narrow knife into another crack on the other side of the crevice, then pulled herself up a little further. “I’ll just go up top and see what I can see.”

“And leave me here?”

“You can come along.”

“Casey, I’m scared.”

With one boot jammed in one side of the ledge and the other boot on the opposite ledge, Casey inched up. “Yeah, I’m scared too.”

“Don’t leave me down here, Casey.”

“Dev, relax. I’m right here. Let me get up to daylight and see what a fine squeeze we are in. Just keep talking to me.”

“Casey, I feel like my life’s in a rut!”

“Yes, it is honey. A granite rut. I wonder if this is how that phrase began? I think you should leave that comfy house in Indiana and go out and spend the summer in Wyoming where there are wide-open spaces. You’ll have room to breathe, nothing to do, and a chance to meet charming people.”

“Yeah. Right.” Develyn studied the brown rock walls just wider than her shoulders. “Is anything ever normal in Wyoming?”

“I thought Normal was a town in Illinois.”

“Spencer grew up in Normal.”

“Your ex? Was he normal?”

“Maybe, but I hope not.” Develyn patted the cold rock ledge. “Think about it. Every day in Wyoming is too windy or too still, too wet or too dry, too thrilling or too threatening. When is it ever normal here?”

“The last full week in September. It’s called Normal Days … and everyone stays home and promises to do nothing,” Cree-Ryder hollered. “But no tourists are allowed. None of them are normal.”

“Hey, are these the kinds of rocks that have snakes?”

Cree-Ryder paused on a ledge about eight feet above the horses. “This is the wrong time of the year for that.”

Develyn adjusted her blanket serape and pushed her hat back. “There are no snakes in the summer?”

“Oh, there are plenty of snakes.” Casey grunted as she climbed higher. “This is the wrong time of the year to ask that question.”

“If I see a snake, I’ll die.”

“That should save some needless venom. You aren’t going to get bit. I’m almost to the top.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Devy, I’m going to be out of sight just for a minute … provided I don’t fall on my head … just wait.”

“Like I have a choice?” Develyn screamed. Tears trickled down her dusty cheeks. Lord, why can’t I have a peaceful day? They are either the best of times or the … OK, no Dickens quotes…. Lord, I’m not sure what I want. I just know what I don’t want, and I don’t want to be stuck down here in this rock tomb. This is crazy. I shouldn’t be here. I should have listened to Casey, turned around at the rim, and returned to the truck. Then I’d be in my little cabin, just lifting an eyelid and smelling a hundred years of history hang in the air. But if we had turned around, I would have missed the mansion … the night … the dresses and the security guards…. I could have played it safe, but I would have missed the dance…. OK, I won’t quote Garth Brooks, either. This summer, I just want to relax and have fun. I just don’t know how.

I’m forty-five years old.

It’s time I learn.

“Casey?” Develyn called out.

She waited a moment.

“Casey?”

I’m alone. Did she abandon me?“ OK, Ms. Worrell … you’re a fifth-grade teacher … nothing panics you.” She reached forward and stroked My Maria’s neck. “Honey, we can’t move forward until Popcorn does, and he seems to be a little chubby around the girth, so let’s encourage him to move. Perhaps if you bit him on the rear end.”

Then he would kick you and you’d buck and I’d hit the rocks and I’d be trampled by two panicked horses with nothing left of me but bloodstained rocks and a grease spot. And if I crawl up there and slap his backside, he’ll pound my head like an aluminum can run over by a semi … so … from a distance …

“Casey!”

Develyn’s feet were still up on My Maria’s neck.

I wonder if I threw rocks at Popcorn, would he kick his way free, or would he just get more stuck? There are some rocks up there. If I stood in the saddle like Casey, I could reach them.

Of course, I’m not like Casey.

Moving one foot under her and then the next, Develyn crouched on the saddle. Then she squatted. She stood, hunched over, holding each side of the cold rock crevice.

She shuffled her feet to the widest part of the saddle seat.

My Maria shifted her weight.

“No! No, honey. Stand still for mama!”

I’m mama to the horse and mama to the burro. Where’s my Dee? My Delaney. That’s what I miss about my summer. I miss my girl. It is the first summer in twenty years that I haven’t been with her.

Lord, I trust you listen to crazy women, because this whole scene is nuts. I’m trapped in a granite ravine, somewhere in Wyoming, praying for my daughter. Lord, I pray Dee can come out and spend the rest of the summer with me. I want her here. I can’t believe it took me six weeks to figure that out.

On a ledge to the left she scooped up several jagged, egg-sized rocks. Still standing straight up on the saddle, she lobbed a rock at the backside of the Appaloosa gelding. The stone tumbled off his rear. Popcorn snorted and flinched, but didn’t move.

“Perhaps this is not the best idea,” she mumbled. “Perhaps we should …”

The sound coming from behind her rattled like a muted castanet.

My Maria pranced.

“Whoa, baby, whoa. It’s just a … ah … oh, no, Lord … no, no, no … Casey!”

Develyn scanned the rocks, but couldn’t see the snake.

The rattling continued.

“Popcorn, get your fat behind on down the trail right now!” I am not going to be snake-bit. Not today. With strength she hadn’t used in years, Develyn sailed the rock straight into the horse’s rump and screamed, “Giddy-up!”

Popcorn gave a wild kick, lurched forward, and stomped up the trail.

My Maria gave pursuit with Develyn still standing in the saddle. “Wait …” She walked her hands along the jagged rock walls to keep her balance. “Wait, honey … whoa … stop … no!”

Develyn leaned forward and flexed her knees with each jolt of the horse’s hooves on the rock. The skin on her hands and knuckles scraped and tore as she scrambled to keep from falling. My Maria was at a near trot.

“Slow down! I can’t keep this up.”

The rock wall rubbed the fenders of the saddle as the paint mare slipped between the parallel ledges.

I’m going to fall on my head and die with snakes slithering over my broken, painful, terrorized body.

No, I’m not. Lord, I want to see Delaney. I need to be with my daughter. I am not going to munch it today! It doesn’t fit my schedule.

Develyn found the rhythm of My Maria’s gait and let each step impact the bend in her knees. She pulled her raw hands back from the rocks and continued to ride standing in the saddle.

“There has to be a rim up here somewhere, girl. Just keep this pace until the top.”

Sunlight broke down into the ravine as the trail zigzagged, then they broke out into a prairie of rolling hills and sagebrush.

“Yes!” she shouted.

Cree-Ryder led Popcorn over to her. Develyn’s hat was ripped, and the blanket serape was covered with dirt.

Develyn slid down in the saddle. “I made it out!”

“You rode standing in the saddle?”

Develyn held out her hands. “I didn’t have a choice. I kind of got ripped up. There was a snake, and I was in a hurry.”

“I can’t believe I witnessed an Indiana schoolteacher ride out of that canyon standing in the saddle.”

“Did you get a good photo of it?” Develyn grinned. “I might use it on the cover of my memoirs.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to sketch it from memory.”

“You are a mess, Ms. Cree-Ryder, what happened?”

Casey waved her arms as she talked. “I hiked down the trail toward you. Uncle Henry was already on top. About halfway to you, this crazy Appy tried to run me down. It was all I could do to hold on to the headstall, and he drug me up the trail.”

“That was my fault. I frightened him, and he took off.”

“What did you do?”

“I told him if he didn’t get his big rear out of there soon, I would trailer him with a llama all the way to Indiana and put him in a petting zoo for fifth-grade boys who wanted to learn how to wear spurs.”

“Dev, what did you really do?”

“Blasted his behind with rocks and screamed. It feels good to be out of there, Casey.”

“Yes, well, you might be the only one in history to ride a horse all the way up that fissure.”

“Since the countess?”

“Ever. You see that little shack and corral over there?”

“Is that a house?”

“At one time it was a carriage house.”

The wind whipped Develyn’s face. She tugged her hat down. “For whom?”

“I think the count and countess kept horses and a carriage up here in case they needed to sneak away. They must have walked up here.”

“You think so?”

“Yep.”

“You mean, Develyn Gail Upton Worrell just rode a horse up a western trail that no one has ever ridden before?”

“Most likely. You’re a trailblazer, Devy.”

“You know what is so great about a crisis? It feels so wonderful when you finally get out of it.”

“You talking about Quint again … or the trail up the canyon wall?” Casey challenged.

“Both, Ms. Cree-Ryder. Can you lead us back to the truck from here?”

“I can do that, if you promise no side trips.”

“There you go again … always holding me back.”

“Come on, Ms. Worrell, there isn’t a cowgirl or a cowboy in the world that could hold you back from anything.”

* * *

They rode straight into the yellow sunlight of a cloudless Wyoming day. The showers the night before had cleaned the air and swept the prairie free of tracks. The wind, now at their backs, had dried the mud enough that it would not collect in the hooves of the horses. Casey Cree-Ryder led the way. Uncle Henry trotted next to Develyn and My Maria.

“OK, Ms. Worrell, what do you want to do today?”

“Eat until I’m stuffed. Take a long, hot bath. Wash my hair. Sip on a Starbucks while I get my fingernails done, then I’d like to lie out in the sun, read a good book, and nap.”

“Really?”

“It sounds wonderful.”

“I’ve never had anyone do my nails. I’m not the fancy nail type person.”

“You should try it once, just to see if you’d like it.”

“Would you go with me? I mean, I’d feel like cat at a dog show if I went by myself.”

“Let’s do it. Let’s go get all pampered.”

“How much will it cost me?”

“It’s my treat,” Develyn insisted.

“I don’t want to do my toes. No one on earth sees my toes.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“I’ve been horse-stepped so many times, every toe has been broken more than once. The doctor once said he’s seen riots more orderly than my toes.”

“OK, no toes,” Develyn said.

“Where will we go?”

“Where can we go and soak in a tub?”

“You mean, rent a tub?”

“Or a whirlpool, or a hot springs.”

Casey turned around in the saddle and put her hand on Popcorn’s rump. “Thermopolis! That’s the whole reason for the town. They have a big hot springs just north of town and everything.”

“How long does it take to get there?”

“Are we going today?”

“Yes.”

Casey scratched her neck. “Maybe a couple hours from here. Not much more than an hour, after we get to the rig.”

“Then that’s where we’re going.”

“We aren’t going back to the cabin?”

“Nope.”

“Are you still running away from Quint?”

“Of course not. I’m just thinking of something peaceful to do. And I want to call Delaney as soon as I get a signal.”

“Devy, it can’t be much later than 7:00 a.m. in Indiana. When does Dee become functional in the mornings?”

“About 11:30. I’ll wait. Casey, do you think three of us can squeeze into the cabin?”

“Sure, I’ve slept a dozen cowboys in a cabin that size.”

“Cowboys?”

“There is nothin’ in the world safer than bein’ the only girl with a dozen ranch cowboys. They will pulverize any inappropriate behavior. But there is nothin’ more dangerous than being with one ranch cowboy. Anyway, you are talking about Dee, I suppose.”

“I wanted to invite her to come out.”

“That would be wonderful. I’d love to meet her. Is she just like you?”

“She is absolutely nothing like me.”

“Does she look like you?”

“Actually, she looks like you, Casey … only white.”

“Poor thing, she can’t help having pathetic skin. She must get it from her mama. Hey, this is exciting. Do you think she’ll come?”

“That’s the big question.”

“Does she like to ride?”

“Harleys.”

“Motorcycles … wow, she isn’t like you, is she?”

“She is stubborn and opinionated and has a tough time saying ‘I’m sorry, I made a mistake.’”

“I like her already!”

“Lots of time in the last few months, she has utterly hated me.”

“She still blames you for her father’s heart attack?”

“I think so. Part of it’s her struggle. I think she wished she had time to tell him more, and now that’s taken away. Anyway … there are always two sides to a story, and you’ve only heard mine.”

“What more is there to know?” Casey pressed. “He was a jerk who more than once cheated on you, including with your daughter’s eighteen-year-old friend.”

“And I, sweet Casey, don’t have any idea if I know how to love and take care of a man.”

“Whoa, that’s a radical thing for a woman married over twenty years to say. Is that why you ran away from Quint?”

“I didn’t run away. I just backed away quietly.”

“Whatever. Who am I to talk? I don’t know how to take care of a man for twenty minutes.”

“You just haven’t found the right one, sweetie.”

“That’s what I’ve told myself for thirty years.”

“Today, we don’t have to find a man. We just need a soak in the hot springs, get a latte and a manicure.”

* * *

The sun rose quickly, and the wind was at their backs most of the way. The trail led them away from Sage Canyon, and all they could see was rolling sage prairie, antelope, and the distant Big Horn Mountains to the north. As they swung to the south, a few oil wells and natural gas pumping stations popped up on the horizon.

Develyn followed Casey down to a narrow stream. “Is this Crazy Woman Creek?”

“Yep.”

“Do we need a splashology stop?”

“I think we are muddy enough, don’t you?”

“We are a mess. Do you think we can sneak into Thermopolis without anyone seeing us?”

Casey dove her hand under her serape and scratched. “Nope.”

“At least we won’t see anyone we know.”

After walking the horses a while, they remounted and started up a gradual climb.

“Countess, are we about there? My backside feels like hamburger.”

“Oh, it is so difficult to get hearty servants these days. Back in the old country, the help was much … wait a minute … for my Cree grandma, this is the old country.”

Uncle Henry let out a bray, then trotted ahead of them.

“Does he sense we are getting close?”

“Either that or he smells the smoke.”

“What smoke?”

“You don’t smell the campfire?”

Develyn stood in the stirrup and took a big gulp of air. “No.”

“How sad. You white girls can’t sing, can’t dance, can’t smell, can’t jump, and have pasty skin and hair that has to be colored to be attractive.”

“And, my bronze bombshell friend, your point is?”

“It’s a miracle that you find anyone to marry you.”

“Casey, you don’t know how true that is.”

Cree-Ryder crested the hill in front of her. “There’s a campfire, and it’s right next to that red Dodge pickup.

“You don’t have a red Dodge pickup.” Develyn galloped up next to Casey. “Renny? What’s he doing out here?”

“I doubt if he’s looking for me, Ms. Worrell.”

“I’m not going to let him see me like this. I haven’t had makeup in two days.”

“I haven’t had makeup in ten years.”

“Yes, but you are a natural bronze bombshell.”

“Point well-taken. Pull that blanket over your head. I’ll do all the talking.”

* * *

Renny Slater squatted next to a sage fire. He glanced up, but didn’t stand. “Mornin’ ladies, you out early … or did you ride all night?”

Uncle Henry trotted up and scratched his head on Slater’s side-view mirror.

Casey Cree-Ryder swung down out of the saddle and tied Popcorn to her horse trailer. “You cookin’ breakfast, Slater?”

“I had me a couple of eggs and some ham. You want me to stir you up some?”

“How many eggs do you have left?” Casey asked.

“I’ve got ten left,” he replied.

“Cook ’em all,” Develyn groaned as she eased herself out of the saddle.

“You saddle sore, or did you get run over by a train?”

Develyn slapped her hands to her hips. “Slater, if you want to live to see noon, you will not mention my looks again this morning, is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, revealing two deep dimples. He broke eggs into the black iron skillet.

Casey tied up My Maria, and the ladies pulled the saddles from the horses.

“Did you come out here looking for us?” Develyn asked.

“Yep. This was my assignment.”

“Assignment?”

“Quint Burdett called. Said you failed to come in, and he got a delirious phone call.”

“Delirious?”

“Said you were babbling on incoherently. He was worried about you when you didn’t show up by dark.”

“I told him I wasn’t coming back.”

“Well, he called me up and since I was in Lander, I was to start this way at daylight and check out the trailheads. He asked Tallon to scout east of Argenta, and Cuban and the hands at the ranch swept south from the headquarters.”

“And Quint?” Casey said. “Where was he going to look?”

“In Powell, I reckon. Anyway, he had some kind of a rangeland meeting up there.”

“He surely was worried. He sent all of you out, but went to the meeting?” Casey asked.

“I think he’s the state chairman. He said to call as soon as any of us had word.”

“Incoherent?” Develyn grumbled. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear.”

“Oh?” Renny one eyebrow. “Is this a lover’s spat?”

“Not lovers,” Develyn replied.

“I should have known.” He beat the eggs in the skillet. “By the way, would you want to tell me where you’ve been all night? I’ve seen bronc riders catch a foot in the stirrup and get drug around the arena that looked cleaner than you two.”

“Slater, you might as well crawl into that fryin’ pan,” Cree-Ryder said. “You’d be safer in there.”

“We had a really delightful time at a slumber party,” Develyn announced.

“Yes!” Casey added.

Renny pointed his fork at the package of meat. “How much ham do you want?”

“The whole hog,” Casey replied.

He unsnapped the sleeves of his shirt and rolled them up to his elbows. “I take it they were short on refreshments at the slumber party?”

Develyn could taste the thick aroma of frying meat. “Yes, and we were out longer than we planned, but we weren’t lost, just enjoying the Wyoming prairie.”

“I trust you got out of that rainstorm last night.”

“We were quite snuggly,” Develyn bragged.

“There isn’t a room or a house between here and the highway twenty-five miles west of here. Where did you stay?”

“Now, Renny.” Casey squatted down next to him. “Girls don’t have to give away their secret rendezvous sites.”

“You’re right, but I’d better phone Quint and tell him you are secretive but not delirious this mornin’.”

“Did he really call us delirious?” Develyn asked.

“Just you, Miss Develyn. He thinks Cree-Ryder is crazy all the time.”

Casey laughed. “I’m glad he sees some things accurately. You got some forks for us to eat those eggs with? If not, we’ll just eat them with our fingers.”

“Renny, I’ll phone Quint. You get ahold of Tallon and Cuban if you can. I don’t want them wasting the day.”

Slater turned over the sizzling ham. “I’ve got to go back to the highway for my phone to work.”

Develyn pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Looks like I have a signal. I’ll be right back. This needs to be a private conversation, incoherent or not.” Develyn hiked toward Casey’s horse trailer, then turned back. “Renny, Casey and I are going up to Thermopolis after breakfast and soak in the hot springs, then get our nails done. You want to go with us?”

“Two beautiful cowgirls are inviting me to soak in the hot tub?”

“Hot springs,” Casey corrected.

“I’ll go, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that?” Develyn replied.

“I don’t have to get my fingernails painted.”