down near Whitt. “I’ll admit I’ve never been asked so many questions.”
While Whitt talked about the gold he’d found that day, Clint tried to hear what the girls were asking Amelia. One question in particular from Annie caught his attention.
“Ma, will we ever have another pa?”
Clint wished Whitt would be quiet for a moment so he could hear Amelia’s response. As it was, he only caught her last few words.
“. . . count our blessings that we have one another.”
In the next instant, Whitt walked to the fire and poured himself more coffee, and Clint heard Katie say, “Mr. Mitchum doesn’t have a wife.”
“Hmm,” Amelia murmured.
Clint wondered what “hmm” meant.
“We heard Mrs. Nelson say that Mr. Mitchum is real handsome. What do you think, Ma?” Katie asked.
“Girls, where do you get these questions?” Amelia glanced Clint’s way.
“We just thought you might want another husband, so we can have food and stuff. Mrs. Nelson said a woman needs a man’s help to survive out here,” Katie explained.
“Well . . .” Amelia couldn’t finish her reply because Annie spoke up.
“Mr. Mitchum would make a good pa. He talks to us.”
“What about Mr. Newcombe? He’s nice, and Bo and Boone are really nice too—for boys. Do you like him better?” Katie asked.
Clint glanced at Whitt to see if he was listening to their conversation. He was.
Amelia leaned over the girls and covered them with blankets. “They are all very nice. Now, it’s time for you to get some sleep. Enough questions for one day.”
Exchanging a look with Whitt, Clint shrugged and lowered his voice. “We’re nice.”
Whitt laughed. “But you’re handsome and nice.” Whitt eyed Clint, trying to gauge his reaction to Amelia. “You seem mighty interested in what she had to say.”
Clint took a drink of his coffee. “Aren’t you?”
“She’s a fine woman, but I just lost my wife.”
“Don’t you think the boys will need a mother?”
“Maybe one day, but not right now. It’s not that easy to get over the loss of the woman I’ve loved since I was sixteen years old.”
Clint thought of his parents and how in love they had been. It had to be tough on his mother to lose not only the love of her life, but her children as well. “I’m sorry, Whitt.”
“Me too.” Whitt glanced Amelia’s way, then smiled at Clint. “Besides, it seems to me that she looks your way fairly often.”
Looking across the fire at Amelia, Clint shook his head. “She’s probably going through the same thing you are, losing her spouse.”
“According to Mrs. Nelson, she lost her husband a few years back.”
Clint turned to look at him. “You mean he didn’t die of the fever?”
“I don’t think so.”
* * *
Once the girls fell asleep, Amelia walked to the fire and poured herself a cup of coffee. She held the pot out to the men. “Would you like some more?”
Whitt declined, but Clint held out his cup to her. After she filled his cup, she sat down near him.
“Did you think they were going to stay awake all night?” Clint teased.
Amelia laughed. “They’ve had an exciting day.”
Whitt excused himself to check on his horses, leaving Clint and Amelia alone.
Clint figured Whitt left on purpose to give him time alone with Amelia. He’d have to thank him for that later. “Those girls are something special.”
“They think highly of you. It seems you have won two hearts today.”
Clint was just about to say he’d lost his heart to them, but he heard horses approaching. He held out his hand to Amelia, indicating she should stay seated as he stood and gripped the butt of his pistol.
Three men reined in opposite the fire, but they didn’t dismount.
“Can you spare some of that coffee?” the man in the middle asked.
The first thing Clint noticed was that the strangers were all wearing sidearms. They didn’t have packhorses, which told him they were either outlaws on the run or had a camp somewhere else and were out looking for trouble. Either way, they were up to no good. He’d spent a lot of hours on the trail, and he often had to make quick decisions about men who approached his camp late at night. Some strangers he’d invite to stay and have coffee, others he didn’t. He didn’t like the looks of these characters, and he particularly didn’t like the way they were staring at Amelia. “Sorry, we just finished the last of the coffee.”
“Can’t you make some more?” The stranger pointed to the man on his left. “My friend