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smoked the last of his cigarette, snuffing it out against the side of his canteen before throwing the stub into the tall spring grass. “That turned into quite a speech. I wasn’t saying there’s anything wrong with the way you live, Sunny. I was just saying some people aren’t cut out to live that way. What the heck? It takes all kinds, right? If there weren’t people like me, then people like you couldn’t travel out here safely.”
    She smiled then, the warm smile that always made him want to see how her full lips might feel against his mouth. “Yes. Please do watch after Daddy. He thinks I’m the one to be looked after, but he is as important to me as I am to him. It frightens me sometimes to think of what it might be like to be without him. My brother Vince would—” She stopped, slowing her horse then. “I’d better go back now, like you said. I’ll see you at supper tonight.”
    He tipped his hat, and she turned her horse and rode off. Colt watched after her, his smile fading. He was amazed at the loneliness she conveyed. He gathered from comments her brother had made and from her own that her family was very divided. There did not seem to be much love among them, except between Sunny and her father.
    He turned his horse forward again and rode at a gentle lope, reminding himself that the Landers family problems, Sunny’s in particular, were none of his affair.
    ***
    Men hovered guardedly around the blanketed-off area where Sunny bathed in a tub of water that had been heated first over a campfire. Near one of the wagons the nightly ritual of setting up a table, by laying a wide, flat board on top of barrels, was completed. Colt never ceased to be astonished at the formality of the Landerses’ nightly feast. The two cooks spread a tablecloth over the board and began setting out real china and silverware.
    Over the past two weeks Colt had noticed Bo Landers’s men jumped at his every command. Everyone worked with a kind of rhythm, no one questioning an order. Not one man gave an extra look to Sunny, and Colt figured they had learned it was better not to. Miss Sunny Landers was meant for something better than the likes of anyone who worked for her father. Even Sunny’s brother Stuart marched to his father’s tune. The man seemed decent enough, however. Stuart treated Sunny kindly, and he had written several letters to his wife, Violet, back in Chicago, although so far they had not passed by anyone who could carry the letters back for him. Stuart also talked often about his one-year-old daughter, Diana. It was obvious the man missed his family.
    The scent of food drifted over from a second campfire, and a few items were hanging out to dry over a makeshift clothesline. The day had ended with a rough river crossing that had gotten people and belongings wet. It had been the first dangerous encounter of the trip. The Platte was high and deep this time of year, and it was always difficult to find a place to cross, but they had no choice if they wanted to avoid a lot of extra miles by having to circle around swampy ground.
    For safety, Colt had taken Sunny across on his own horse, and he was still trying to forget the feel of her against him. He had changed into denim pants and a cotton shirt for supper, and at the moment he was wishing he had never agreed to sit and eat with these people. Slim camped farther ahead, preferring his own beans and coffee, and his own company.
    â€œCome and have a seat,” Bo called out. “I have some fine cigars here, Colt!”
    Reluctantly, Colt walked over and sat down on a barrel, but he refused the cigar, preferring to roll his own smokes. “I might get too accustomed to that fine tobacco and not be able to smoke my own anymore,” he told Bo.
    Landers laughed. “Well, son, a man does get used to the finer things once he has them. I must say, this trip is a far cry from the trips I’ve taken to