hutch in the middle of the trail looked like a barrier, or maybe they were tired from running. Regardless of the reason, their pace dwindled from a run to a trot, and then to a walk. One of them left the trampled trail and stood in the tall prairie grass. It inspected Emma and her family with a solemn, dark-eyed stare, its sides heaving from exertion. When it had caught its breath, the horned head casually lowered and the steer began tearing up mouthfuls of grass. Soon the others followed suit.
Where had they come from? A note of concern worried her thoughts as she counted them. Eleven cows did not just appear from nowhere. Either a ranch was nearby, or they came from a herd traveling in the area. And there was only one herd she knew of that had been through here recently.
With a determined step she strode toward them.
“Emma!” Maummi’s sharp tone sliced through the distance. “Take care.”
She waved a hand in answer but didn’t slow until she drew near enough to see the brand seared into the rump of the nearest steer. Three bars, two vertical and one horizontal, stood out clearly on the brown hide.
She turned and found Papa’s eyes on her. “It’s the Triple Bar brand. These are from Luke’s herd.”
Though his expression remained impassive, she saw acknowledgment in his eyes and his slight nod.
How did Luke lose almost a dozen cattle? Perhaps they had wandered off while one of the cowboys wasn’t looking. Surely in a herd of two thousand it wasn’t uncommon to lose a few along the way, but if that were the case, why had they been running?
Several possibilities presented themselves. Something had happened to frighten them. She herself knew how easily the silly things became startled. A prairie dog, maybe, or a snake in the grass. But then surely one of the riders would have noticed, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t someone have come after them?
She scanned the horizon, but no cowboy on horseback appeared. At the sight of the wide open plain, the muscles in her stomach drew tight. What if something had happened to the riders? Or—she swallowed against a mouth gone suddenly dry—to their leader?
She ran toward her father, who stood watching the grazing cattle, lines heavy on his brow. “Something must have happened to frighten them away from the herd.”
He didn’t answer, but his lips tightened.
“We have to help them.”
His calm gaze slid to hers. “There is nothing we can do.”
The words pulled the knots in her belly tighter. “We can gather them up and return them.”
“Emma.” A soft smile curved his lips. “We have no horses, no way to move cattle forward.”
“We have our feet.” With an enormous effort, she stopped herself from stomping one of hers out of sheer frustration.
Rebecca ran up to join them. “She’s right, Papa. Emma knows how to make cattle move. We all saw her do it yesterday.”
Had the situation not been so dire, Emma would have pinched her sister for her smug grin.
“We can all do it,” Emma insisted. “The four of us, along with two oxen, can certainly push a few cows down a trail. Especially if they belong to the man who has helped us over and over.”
A struggle clear on his features, Papa’s eyes moved as he studied her. What was he looking for? Did he suspect her of concocting a ploy to see Luke again? With a flash of guilt, she could not deny that she found the idea appealing. And yet what else could they do? Leave his cows grazing on the side of the trail and continue on their way? How could they live with their consciences after all he had done to help them?
Emma returned Papa’s gaze without flinching. After a moment, he turned away.
“I will pray on the matter.”
A low groan threatened to rumble from deep in her throat. And how long would that take? They could be here for days while Papa waited to hear from the Lord, and all the while Luke could be in trouble. In fact, with every moment that passed she became more certain that he was in trouble. He might even be hurt and waiting for someone to come to his aid.
Lord, please don’t take long to get through to Papa.
She’d barely had time to pace once from the stream to the wagon and back again before Papa turned to face his family. Whether the Lord heard her prayer, or Papa’s own sense of responsibility toward their