He expected he’d get the same story he’d been told by Kiernan himself last night at the Gallivan campfire, but it seemed the natural question to ask.

“He’s getting around all right now. In fact, my…brother said I could come ride with you for part of the way today if the offer’s still open.”

Jeb felt a spurt of pleasure. Patrick was an earnest young lad, a little too serious for his age. He’d worked hard along the trail without a single complaint. Jeb wondered fleetingly if he and Melanie would have had such a son. The twist in his insides was so familiar by now that it passed almost without notice. Almost.

“I’d be happy to have you ride with me, Patrick. You’ll have to sit at the back of my saddle, you know.”

“I know.”

The boy’s black hair and blue eyes were nearly identical to his brother’s, but whereas on Kiernan they looked almost pretty, Patrick showed the promise of turning into a handsome, virile young man. The contrast between the two brothers was marked.

“If you want I can ride with your brother for a while and you can sit on my horse by yourself. We’d keep it alongside your wagon,” he added, to reassure the boy that he wouldn’t be completely on his own.

Patrick eyed the gray roan stallion with longing, but he said, “No, I’d rather sit behind you.”

Jeb shrugged. “All right. It’s probably better. That way I can keep track of things up and down the train. You’re sure your brother won’t need any help?”

“I’m sure. Anyway, the Burnett twins are going to ride with her today.”

Jeb frowned in confusion. “Ride with who?”

Patrick’s face paled. “Ride with him, I mean. With my brother.”

“Oh.” Jeb nodded. “Well, good. If he needs anything, they can fetch Mrs. Burnett.”

“Yup,” Patrick said, his skin returning to its normal color.

There was something a little odd about the Gallivan brothers, Jeb decided, as he mounted his horse, then reached down a long arm to pull Patrick up behind him. And yet he was drawn to them nevertheless. Perhaps it was because he identified with their recent bereavement. It was still so soon after their father’s death. They needed time to recover. It was the natural way with grief. With most grief.

He felt the boy’s arms clasp around his waist and put his big hand over Patrick’s smaller one for a moment of reassurance. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.” The childish, eager voice made Jeb smile in spite of his dark thoughts as he signalled his horse to move. Patrick was young. It wouldn’t take long for time to work its healing power on the boy’s grief. Unlike Jeb’s own. He had refused to let his loss grow any less vivid with the passing years. He didn’t intend to ever allow time to numb the wound. He didn’t deserve to heal.

Kerry was thoroughly enjoying herself for the first time in what seemed like weeks. Once Polly and Molly had become completely comfortable in her company, their conversation had become delightfully unreserved. It appeared that the shyer twin, Molly, had developed a crush on Patrick, and her irrepressible older sister had already learned to use the fact as a weapon.

“Molly has a boyfriend,” she told Kerry, her little mouth making a round expression of excitement.

“I don’t either,” Molly argued with a scowl.

“Do, too.”

“Do not!”

“Do, too!”

Kerry sat up on the high wagon seat with a sister on each side. She laid the reins in her lap for a minute and put her arms around each. “Here, now. Let’s not have a fight. It’s not polite to tease about boys, Polly,” she chided gently.

Polly was undaunted. “It’s your brother,” she told Kerry in dramatic tones, sending a glance of defiance at her sister, who gave a wail.

Kerry hid a smile. “That’s all right, Molly. There’s nothing wrong with feeling a fondness for a boy. Most girls do at some point or another.”

Molly looked up into Kerry’s face, blinking hard. “You won’t tell him?” she asked in a painful whisper.

Kerry shook her head. “Not a word. I promise. And don’t you go telling either, Polly,” she cautioned. The wagon lurched over a rut in the trail and she picked up the reins again. “Now, were you girls going to teach me that ballad your mother was singing at the campfire last night?”

All at once the quarrel and Patrick were forgotten as the girls vied to teach their new friend a favorite family song. Kerry leaned against the backboard of the seat and enjoyed their antics, trying to remember when she herself had been ten. Had she ever been as carefree as the Burnett twins? Her mother had died giving birth to Patrick when Kerry was six. It had broken Sean Gallivan’s heart, and most of Kerry’s memories concerned her attempts to try to make up to him for his loss. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, it had never been enough. She could never make up for her mother’s absence.

The sisters had lapsed into an argument again about the order of the verses, but there was less vehemence than when the dispute had involved a matter of the heart. “How would it be if we sang it once each way? That way I’ll be sure to learn the whole thing.” Kerry’s suggestion was all it took to settle the matter. The two little girls squabbled, as was natural for two siblings so close in age, but they were good-natured children, and Kerry found it relaxing to be with them. She had not given a thought to her disguise all morning.

But her relaxed state came to an abrupt end as she saw Jeb Hunter riding toward them with Patrick bouncing along behind. At her side, she could feel Molly straighten up on the seat, and Kerry found herself doing the same. She pulled reflexively on the brim of her hat.

“You have helpers along today, Kiernan, I see,” Jeb called out to her. His voice was much lighter than it had been around the campfire last night. The tone made him sound younger. His face looked younger, too, as he gave her one of his rare smiles. Kerry caught her breath at the difference in his expression.

“I certainly do,” she answered carefully, keeping her voice extra low. She hoped Polly and Molly wouldn’t pay attention to her sudden change in register. “And you have a helper of your own.”

Jeb turned around in the saddle to give Patrick a fond look. “He’d make a good guide himself one of these days.”

Kerry’s smile dropped as she said quickly, “Not likely. We’re going to be ranchers, remember? And Patrick’s going to do carpentry like our father.”

Jeb didn’t appear to notice the vehemence of her remark. “He’s got sharp eyes. He’s been pointing out things along the trail that I missed myself.”

Patrick was beaming at the praise. “It’s been great, Ker…Kiernan,” he exclaimed. “I wish I could ride every day.”

“You don’t want to be a bother to Captain Hunter, Patrick,” Kerry said softly.

“He’s no bother. I’ve enjoyed the company.” Jeb pulled his horse around and matched its stride to the slow plodding of the oxen. “I just brought him back because we’re stopping for lunch and I thought you might need his help. In fact, I thought I’d join you for the meal myself.”

Kerry’s gaze went to the wagon in front of them. She knew that the minute the wagons rolled to a halt, Scott would be back to get the noon meal for her as he had since her accident. But she couldn’t very well turn down the captain’s request for an invitation.

“Certainly, Captain Hunter,” she said trying to mask her misgivings. “You’re welcome to stay.”

Chapter Four

They rode along for another few minutes before the wagons in front started drawing to a halt one by one. “The head wagon must have reached Silver Creek,” Jeb explained. “I told them we’d stop there.”

Almost instantly the twins’ mother appeared to collect her girls. Kerry noticed that the polite smile Captain Hunter turned on Dorothy Burnett was not any different than the one he used with Frank Todd or the motherly Eulalie Todd or anyone else on the train. Scott, on the other hand, who joined them immediately, as Kerry had predicted, flashed the pretty blonde a charming grin and cocked his head in a greeting that showed appreciation of her as a young, attractive woman. Jeb Hunter didn’t seem to like women all that much, Kerry decided. Or perhaps he saw himself in such a lofty position on the train that he felt above flirting with a pretty girl. Of course, either way, it was a matter of indifference to her.