Wyatt took a sip of coffee and seemed to be gauging Greta’s reaction. She didn’t want to worry him needlessly. Surely Astrid would be fine with Judd there this morning and would sleep most of the time anyway.

“Very well. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Not a bit.” Judd scraped up a large spoonful of potatoes and shoveled it in his mouth as if the subject was closed with nothing more left to say. She turned back to the stove and squelched the need to give the older man a list of instructions. Astrid was plenty vocal and would tell Judd if she needed anything.

A short while later, Greta was astride one of Wyatt’s horses, riding after him as he led the way across the grassland toward the foothills in the east. The early morning sunshine was directly in her face, making her wish that instead of her bonnet, she had a hat like Wyatt’s with a wide brim to shield her eyes.

Along with the thud of horse hooves, the quiet of the morning was broken by an unfamiliar, distant bird call. As far as she could see, she and Wyatt were the only two out in this wilderness for miles around, and the realization was daunting. If something happened to them, or if they encountered another wild creature like that mountain lion, or if they got lost . . .

She focused on Wyatt’s back and the power emanating from him as he rode. With his revolver in his belt and a rifle secured to his saddle, she surely had nothing to fear. Even so, the high rugged Colorado country was nothing like she’d imagined. Truly, if she was honest with herself, nothing about her journey to the West had turned out the way she’d expected. Maybe by the end of autumn, she’d be more than ready to take up Wyatt’s offer to return to Illinois. Maybe he’d been wise to suggest not rushing into the marriage bed.

Although she’d felt strange taking over his house and bedroom, he hadn’t seemed to mind, had almost seemed relieved she’d cooperated so easily. In fact, he’d stayed well out of her way the past couple of days, only coming into the cabin for mealtimes. And they hadn’t run into each other at the river either, though she’d waited until later to go down so she wouldn’t chance seeing him half unclothed again.

Ahead, amid clumps of long grass and mounds of dirt, a prairie dog popped its head out of a burrow, stood high with its face pointed in their direction, and barked a scolding for disturbing it. As she and Wyatt passed, several more of the creatures took up sentinel posts, yelped warnings, shook their tails, and dove back into their holes.