Maybe not tonight, but Trapper guessed he’d be seeing them sometime tomorrow. Of course, it was just as likely that the men were simply riding fast toward Jefferson, but Trapper felt they were coming. Gut, not brains.

The next morning he was on edge. The wind was strong, with a bit of snow blowing like sand. All the girls stayed in the back of the wagon except Number One. She and Emery took turns riding shotgun.

By midafternoon the snow increased but still blew sideways from the north. The heavy clouds seemed to boil above them, promising a storm. Trapper ordered everyone inside the wagon as he drove, fighting to see the trail on a ground turning white.

Finally, before dark, he found a ravine about a quarter mile from the trail. It wasn’t much deeper than the wagon was tall, but it would break most of the wind.

Though not perfect, he took the stop knowing that the horses needed rest. His three riders jumped out of the wagon and helped him with the horses. They walked them to the deepest part of the wide ditch. It was too rocky for the wagon, but here the animals were out of the wind, and they found a spot to form a corral.

When they got back, all the girls helped to push the wagon into a pocket in the ravine, taller and longer than the wagon. Trapper chopped down a few branches and small trees to block the one side of wagon that was exposed. The barrier might not keep out all the wind, but it would help.

Emery had a supper of apples and biscuits with leftover bacon sitting out on a tiny table made of bags. They all knew there would be no campfire tonight. They’d eat in the wagon.

Halfway through the meal, Number Five stood up and said that Tapper was staying inside with them tonight. It was too cold to sleep out, even if he did have a P-gun and didn’t need the chamber pot.”

“What’s a P-gun?” he asked.

Emery whispered, “I believe it’s spelled p-e-e gun.”

He was the only one who blushed. The others all laughed.

“I never knew little girls thought of such things.”

“We’ve seen them on babies,” Three announced. “You take off their clothes and the pee gun shoots up like a fountain.”

Two added, “Don’t boys think things about girls?”

“We are not having this conversation.” If he got any redder, he’d be stepping out in the blowing snow. He sat on the bench by the back opening that was now draped with the girls’ dresses. Looking down at all of them settling in, he felt like an eagle watching over his nest of chicks.

Emery moved over to sit beside him. He wrapped his blanket and his arm around her. She spread her blanket over their knees.