As he finished tying the twine, he stood and surveyed the land. He and Judd had already moved half the bundles into the barn. Tomorrow they’d transport and stow the rest.

Greta, too, rose to her feet and glanced around. Upon seeing their work completed, she arched her back and neck, giving him full view of her beautiful, womanly form.

His throat went dry. “Good Lord, help me.”

She stretched her arms above her head and then yawned. Only then did she notice he’d been staring. She rapidly dropped her arms and gaze. At the same time, she cupped a hand over her yawn but couldn’t hide the weary lines in her forehead.

“We’re done,” he called.

She fingered the hay standing tall in front of her. “I can help you carry these last bundles to the barn if you’d like.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Let’s go fishing.”

Eagerness filled Astrid’s pale face. Although she’d recovered from what Greta had called a “flare-up,” the girl was still weak and tired easily. He heard her coughing most nights and knew Greta was up often with her. Wyatt doubted Greta ever got a full night’s shut-eye and likely hadn’t in years.

“Will you teach me how to fish, Wyatt?” Astrid moved the caterpillar from one hand to the other. “The way you do it, with the string and the fly?”

Since his move to Colorado, he’d taken to fly-fishing over regular line fishing. He hadn’t had much time over the past month to fish, but he managed to catch enough to provide for a few meals a week.

“You told me you could teach me someday. And today is a good day, right?”

“Yep. And I’ll teach Greta too.”

“No.” Greta smothered another yawn. “Astrid, you may go with Wyatt if you promise not to be a bother. But I have too many other responsibilities needing my attention.”

“Always gonna be a heap of work,” he said as they started back to the cabin. “And there will always be something pestering us for attention. But I reckon we oughta forget our cares for a spell.”

Greta only resisted a little while longer, then gave in to both his and Astrid’s pleading. Toting a couple of poles and bait, he led them to his favorite fishing spot upriver from the cabin. Greta spread a blanket in the shade of a cottonwood and sat down with a basket of mending. But Wyatt snagged her hand, pulled her up, and tugged her to the riverbank.

Though she protested, her eyes turned a light silver blue, the shade of the new needles on the blue spruce trees along the river, a shade he was learning reflected her happiness. After tying on the flies and readying their lines, he gave them each a rod and showed them how to overhead cast. Both were quick learners and soon had fish nibbling.