The wind was cold and the river choppy as Rachel stood on the porch of her cabin gazing out over the water. The shadows deepened, and she hugged herself. Autumn had come to Jackson Hole.
Across the river she glimpsed the dim shape of a wolf or a coyote slipping along, and her skin tightened. Every night she lay awake listening to the distant howling of wolves while coyotes prowled around her new cabin. She was more conscious of the wild animals now that she was living away from the post. Web Spencer was no longer a threat to her, but there were plenty of other dangers.
Rachel thought of Colby and Benny. The tough little boys weren’t so tough when the animals came close at night. Nor were they tough when it stormed and lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rumbled in the mountains. Quiet as mice, they would slip into her room and ease into bed beside her. There they would fall asleep, their skinny little bodies cuddled close to her. It wasn’t unusual when she awakened in the mornings to find them snuggled up to her, their thin arms lying across her waist.
Poor little fellows, she thought. John Jacob had returned from Denver with the sad news that Iva hadn’t made it. The two little boys, who had grown close to Rachel since their mother’s departure, had begged to move into her little cabin with her. They spent all their time with her now and especially loved to sit beside her at night and listen to her read a story.
Would the boys be staying on with her? she wondered. She hoped they would. She had grown fond of the orphans. John Jacob had promised their mother that he would watch over them, and so far no relative had come forward to claim them. They were a big help when it came to searching for roots and barks and plants. Benny, especially, knew much about them and their medicinal uses. He had a quick intelligence and would make a fine doctor when he grew older if John Jacob could find some doctor to teach him.
And what kind of man would little Colby grow up to be? she wondered. She suspected he would be very much like Dylan. He adored the long-legged rancher. Dylan had been gone six weeks now, driving his herd of cattle to Abilene; he would probably be home in another week. “I don’t care if he never comes back,” she said through gritted teeth.
The older of the two girls Preacher Robison was taking care of, fourteen-year-old Millie, had come up expecting. She had named Dylan as the father. Due to Dylan’s past wild ways, most everybody believed the girl. A few people, John Jacob among them, declared that although Dylan was a wild one, he was a decent man and would never get a young girl in a family way.
But Jenny Quade said otherwise, and when the gossip began to die down and it was decided that everything would be settled once Dylan came home, she began traipsing all over the mountain, keeping the womenfolk stirred up.
And what do I think? Rachel asked herself. There were days when she believed the girl was lying, but most nights when she lay awake and the wolves howled, she had serious doubts about Dylan’s innocence.
Rachel smiled when she heard the brothers coming down the river road. As usual, Colby was rambling on about something, shooting questions to his brother. And as usual, Benny answered him in grunts or not at all.
The boys jumped up on the porch and dropped a good-sized cloth bag at her feet. “There’s nothing in there but ’seng.” he bragged.
“It’s quite heavy,” Rachel said, hefting the white sack.
“And there is much more where that came from,” Benny said excitedly.
Rachel was reminded of the story Dylan had told her about planting ginseng and tending the bed for five years, only to find that someone else had harvested the roots.
“Benny,” she began in a serious voice, “you didn’t get the ’seng from somebody’s private patch, did you?”
“Oh, Rachel,” Benny exclaimed, his eyes big and round, “I would never steal a man’s hard work. I found these in a mayapple patch. They were way up in the wild woods. I don’t think anyone has been up there for years. It’s a real spooky place.” He stopped to catch his breath. “I’ll take you up there tomorrow and show you.”
Rachel smoothed a hand over his rough hair. “That won’t be necessary, Benny. I believe you.” She turned to Colby. “And what do you have in your bag, Colby?”
Colby ducked his head and said in a voice so low Rachel could hardly hear him, “Not much. Just some bark and plants.”
Benny laughed and dodged Colby’s knobby little fist when he explained, “Colby spent all afternoon playing with the Indian younguns.”
A tiny frown creased Rachel’s forehead. “Are all the children your age, Colby?”
“Just about, excepting for Brown Feather and Little Buck. They are teenagers. Yellow Feather won’t let the young ones go out alone.”
“That’s very wise of him,” Rachel said.
“When Yellow Feather heard that Uncle John was our guardian, he asked if Uncle John had told you about his time as a teacher up on Tulane Ridge. What do you think he meant by that?”
“A teacher?” Rachel said wonderingly. “I have no idea, Benny. I never knew he’d been to this area before he won the post in that poker game. I’ll have to ask him.” She let the subject drop and said instead, “It’s time you fellows wash up and get ready for bed.”
They gave her no argument. Both had had busy days, one way or the other.
Rachel stood, gathered up the two sacks of roots and hurried inside the cabin. She fed the boys a quick supper, then settled them into bed.
It was completely dark when she returned to the porch to sit for a while before going to sleep herself. As was her wont, she fell to thinking about Dylan. During the first days after they had spent the night together, she had daydreamed about him constantly, making plans for their future. There had been little opportunity for private talk while they rounded up the mustangs with Monty and Jassy and drove them to the Bar X. She’d expected he would propose when they returned to the post. She knew there were matters they needed to discuss. For example, where would they live? She thought she would prefer living in Jackson Hole, but Dylan loved his ranch and his cabin up in the mountains.
She didn’t care really, as long as they were together. But he hadn’t proposed. She’d hoped he was just waiting for John Jacob to return, so he could ask for his blessing. But as soon as John Jacob came back, Dylan had set out for Abilene with his cattle.
She clenched her fists, hating herself. How mistaken John Jacob is about Dylan, she thought. He said a man like Dylan would treasure a woman who’d known no other before him. But she’d given him her virginity, and he’d gone off to Abilene as if it were of no importance to him. Maybe those old wild ways of his are just to hard to break, she thought sadly, brushing away a tear as a wolf howled in the distance.
Dylan listened to the howling of a wolf and shifted in his bedroll. He’d been riding hard all day, but he just couldn’t seem to sleep tonight. He got up and went to sit by the campfire.
There was a pot of coffee resting in the coals. Taking up a tin cup, he filled it to the top, then went and sat down on his saddle pulled up close to the fire.
He stared into the fire, watching the leaping flames. As usual, his thoughts turned to Rachel. He had never missed anyone the way he had missed her ever since starting on the drive.
But a week from now he would be back home, sleeping in a bed again, and best of all being with Rachel again. He couldn’t wait to ask her to marry him. He’d longed to speak to her after the night they first made love, to make plans for their wedding.
But on further reflection, he’d decided it would be best to wait till after the drive. “It’s important that I go to her with money in my pocket,” he’d told Monty. “I want to show her how different I am from those mountain men she’s used to. I need to prove I’m nothing like my cousin Homer.”
Had he been right to wait? What if Rachel had taken his silence for lack of interest? Hearing the wolf howl again, he prayed he hadn’t made the worst mistake of his life.