All morning and afternoon they combed the foothills, checking every last place he’d ever talked about, hoping Astrid would show up somewhere. They continued searching and calling for her into the evening. And they didn’t start back toward the homestead until after darkness, silent and somber, but secretly holding out hope that maybe Astrid would be there waiting for them.

But Judd met them outside the barn with slumped shoulders and a shake of his head. He offered to ride to town to sell some of the beef and check with the other search parties. While he was gone, Wyatt tried to keep himself busy with chores and tending the remaining livestock.

By the time he headed into the cabin, he was as weary and low as a snake’s belly in a wagon rut. At the sight of him, Greta pivoted to face the stove, but not before he caught sight of the tears streaking her face.

“I’ve got supper ready for you.” She swiped at her cheeks.

Supper didn’t matter a lick right now, not when she was crying. He set his hat on the table and crossed to stand behind her.

She sniffled and wiped at her face again.

Blast it all. He hated seeing her in so much pain. He hesitated a moment and then reached for her, slipping his arms around her waist, drawing her backward, and embracing her from behind.

She grew rigid.

He stilled. Had he made a mistake in trying to ease her misery? An instant later, when her body softened and melded against him, he allowed himself to relax. And when her hands came up and folded over his where he held her, he released a slow breath.

She sniffed, this time louder.

He wanted to offer her encouragement of some kind, but he couldn’t formulate any words. He tugged her closer and prayed she sensed that he cared.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her hair brushing his chin. And for several heartbeats, she let him hold her, resting against him as if that’s where she wanted to be.

But then she wiggled, trying to free herself. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I want to stay strong so I don’t bother you.”

“Hold on now. You’re not bothering me—”

“You’ve got enough to take care of with the beef, and instead you spent your entire day searching for Astrid.” She reached for a spatula and the pan, but he stopped her by turning her around so she was facing him.

“Listen to me.” His tone was stern but soft, and he held her upper arms so she couldn’t escape. “Nothin’, and I do mean nothin’, is more important than finding Astrid, ya hear?”

Biting her bottom lip, she refused to meet his gaze.

“The beef’ll be fine. And even if it ain’t, we’ll figure out how to get by.”