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planted a wet kiss on Caitlin’s cheek. “Berry woves you.” As usual, Caitlin’s heart melted. She’d been there when Derry had come into the world, and she loved her more than anything.
    “Mary Red Jacket cooks for us,” Shane offered. “She lives in one of those cabins.” He pointed to a tidy cottage with smoke drifting from the white-washed chimney. “She cleans, when she feels like it. But don’t expect too much. This has been a bachelor’s house these last few years. I’ve been so busy outside, I’ve not had the time to worry about fancy furnishings.”
    “No matter. I can see to the house,” Caitlin said. “You say your cook’s name is Mary Red Jacket? What an odd name.”
    “She’s Osage, too. A full-blood, I think. Mary doesn’t talk much, but she can cook a decent steak and good fry bread.”
    “Does she speak English?”
    “When she wants to.” The team reached the bottom of the hill, and Gabriel came to swing open the heavy log gate. Justice trailed after him, no longer talking but following close enough to tread on the wrangler’s heels.
    “McKenna.” Gabriel nodded solemnly to Shane. Caitlin felt the wrangler’s gaze sweep over her, and she wondered if she’d passed inspection.
    Gabriel was a wiry young man with heavy-lidded black eyes, high cheekbones, and shoulder-length hair held back by a red neckerchief tied in a band around his head. His skin had a copper-red tinge beneath a heavy tan. He wore boots, loose leather trousers, and a blue cotton shirt that hung open down the front. A beadedstrap stretched across his chest and over one shoulder, and held a wicked-looking knife. Gabriel wasn’t very tall, hardly taller than Caitlin herself, but he moved with an innate grace that suggested strength.
    “This is my wife, Caitlin,” Shane offered.
    Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. After a slight hesitation, he nodded.
    Caitlin hastened to offer a cordial greeting, but the cowboy didn’t smile in return. Instead, he continued to stare at her with a gaze as hostile as Justice’s.
    So much for that, Caitlin thought, as Shane drove on to the house. It looked as though it would be Derry and her against all the rest.
    “Down! Down!” Derry demanded. She kicked out with both feet and wiggled to be free. She stuck out her bottom lip and scowled. “I want down!”
    “Let her go,” Shane said. “If she stays away from the corrals and out of the creek, there’s nothing much to hurt her.”
    Caitlin lowered the squirming child to the ground. Derry dropped onto her bottom, and the frown became an expression of delight that widened into a grin. “Klicken!” she squealed. Before Caitlin could get down out of the wagon, Derry darted behind it and charged after a large white duck.
    “No! Come back!” Caitlin called. The hem of her dress caught on the corner of the wagon seat. She tugged and heard the material rip. Oh! A surge of regret welled up, but she had no time to stop and examine the damage. She ran after the toddler. “Derry, no!”
    “Klicken!” Derry shouted. She dove at the duck and seized a handful of tail feathers. The duck squawked and flapped his wings, then pulled free, leaving Derry holding two soiled white feathers.
    The duck flew a few feet off the ground, but crashedback to earth and waddled furiously away with Derry in hot pursuit.
    “Derry!” Caitlin admonished. Before she could reach them, both duck and toddler vanished around the corner of the house.
    “Klicken!” Derry shrieked, then broke into a wail of distress.
    Caitlin rounded the corner after her.
    Derry stood stock-still staring up at a stern-faced, nut-brown woman with a corncob pipe between her teeth.
    “Who chasey Mary’s duck?” demanded the woman, snatching the pipe out of her mouth. She shook a slim finger at the child. “You? Ba-ad. Bad chasey duck.”
    “I’m sorry.” Caitlin captured Derry’s hand. “She didn’t mean any harm.”
    The toddler’s small chin thrust forward, and she shook a