A change in the weather? The wide expanse of the cloudless sky was as beautiful and blue as always in the morning. Perhaps a change was moving in later in the day.

From a distance she couldn’t make out the faces of the Indians, but the tall, young Ute who’d been kind to Astrid came to mind. He’d even seemed concerned about her coughing. What had he told Astrid? Something about water being good for the sick?

Greta’s pulse slowed. At the time, she’d been too afraid to consider the Indian’s suggestion, assumed he was alluding to drinking water. But what if the Indian had been referring to specific water that could help the sick? And what if Astrid remembered what the Indian said? After all, she conversed with him longer, and maybe she questioned him more about it.

“Wyatt.” A trembling started in her stomach and spread to her limbs.

He remained focused on the backs of the Indians as they rode into the distance.

“Wyatt,” she said again, this time more urgently.

His attention finally shifted to her.

“Do you know anything about water that might be helpful to someone who’s sick?”

He relaxed his hold on his rifle. “What kind of water?”

“The day the Indians came to the cabin, one of them heard Astrid coughing and told her that water was good for the sick. Maybe there’s a well? Or a pond? Or a lake with especially clear water?”

For a long instant, Wyatt remained motionless, as if trying to make sense of what the Indian had said. Then he sat straighter and tipped up the brim of his hat. “Or maybe a hot spring?”

“What’s a hot spring?” she asked.

“From what I’ve heard, they’re pools of water that stay warm all year round.”

“The water never gets cold?”

“Nope. The Indians use the springs for bathing, but I ain’t heard nothing about the water helping someone who’s sick.”

“Is there a hot spring in the area?”

Wyatt’s eyes narrowed with sudden intensity. “It’s a real small one. Judd’s been to it. Says it’s tucked away in some hills southeast of the ranch.”

“What if Astrid went to the hot spring thinking she could get better there?”

“It’s about as good a guess as any that’s where we’re gonna find her.” Wyatt started strapping his rifle back onto his saddle. “Let’s pray to the good Lord you’re right.”