A few minutes later, they were sitting in the same spot when the pounding of hooves alerted Greta to another visitor. Her body tensed, but before she could rise, Wyatt’s outline came into view. He was riding hard and low, clearly in a hurry.

As he galloped into the yard and reined in near the cabin, she knew she ought to stand and greet him properly and offer him a drink and something to eat. But she wasn’t sure if she could get her legs working.

He hopped from his horse and yanked down the neckerchief tied up over his mouth and nose to keep out the dust. His brow was creased and his jaw set. “You okay?” His dark brown eyes raked over both Astrid and her.

Greta nodded.

He crossed to them, his steps hard, his breathing labored. “The Utes let you be?”

“Then you saw them?”

“Yep. They passed through the east pasture from this direction. I rode like the devil for fear they’d stopped and harassed you.”

“We fed them biscuits and soup,” Astrid said sleepily, rousing enough to smile up at Wyatt. “They liked it, especially Greta’s jam.”

He dropped to his knees and brushed a hand over Astrid’s loose hair. “Then they didn’t hurt you?”

Greta squeezed his arm, his rigid muscles flexing beneath her touch. “We’re fine. Really.”

His hand covered hers, and he squeezed back, his eyes still filled with worry. “Were they here long?”

“Not overly so.”

His attention shifted to the pasture, and he blew out a short, tense breath. “Thank the good Lord.” His worry only confirmed the volatile nature of the situation with the natives and the dangerous reality of the ongoing conflict.

Astrid relayed a detailed account of all that had transpired before she yawned, reclining into Greta again and shutting her eyes.

Greta pressed another kiss against Astrid’s head, sensing the child drifting to sleep.

“From now on, either me or Judd need to be here,” Wyatt whispered.

“Of course not.” The last thing she wanted was for Wyatt to feel as though he couldn’t go anywhere because he had to stay behind and play nursemaid to Astrid and her. “You both have too much work to do. Besides, this kind of thing doesn’t happen every day.”

He situated himself next to her, extending his legs and leaning against the cabin. “Now that they know you’re here, no doubt they’ll be back.”

“If they return, we’ll just feed them again. That’s what they seemed to want.”

He was quiet a moment before he glanced at Astrid as though making sure she was asleep. “Last week, the Utes captured a couple of homesteaders to the south, stripped them, and made them crawl around on all fours like cattle and eat grass. They finally beat the living daylights out of the pair before they let them go.”

She shuddered. “Have the Utes threatened you?”