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something?”
Hank pushed back his plate and shook his head. “Not with regards to breakfast.” A thought came to him. “I wondered if you might be willing to show me where my brother is buried.”
Gwen’s expression softened. “Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it. You must surely want to pay your respects. Let me put this away,” she said, waving the cloth in her hand. “When I’m finished, I’ll show you the way.”
“Take your time.”
Hank watched her bustle around. He couldn’t hear her words as she spoke to her sisters, but he knew it had to do with his request as they glanced his way. Gwen would be the one to appeal to, despite her also having been his brother’s wife. Her nature was gentle and kind. She was easily moved to be helpful, and her emotions could also be used to his advantage.
“If you’re ready,” Gwen said, approaching, “I’ll just get my shawl and bonnet. It’s not a far walk.”
Hank got to his feet. “I’ll wait for you on the porch.”
He went outside and immediately noticed the large dog on the top step. The animal’s coat glistened golden in the sunlight, and his expression seemed quite mournful. Hank had always loved dogs. He remembered begging his mother to allow them to have a pet.
“What’s the matter, fella?” he asked, sitting down beside the animal.
The dog lifted his head momentarily and received Hank’s greeting. Taking this as a friendly sign, Hank smiled. He reached out and began petting the dog with long strokes.
“That’s Major Worthington,” Gwen said from behind. “The Major hasn’t been himself, I’m afraid, since Father died. It’s only been a short time, and he continues to mourn him something fierce.”
Hank looked into the animal’s baleful eyes. Yes, it did appear he was sad. “It’s hard to lose the ones we love,” Hank murmured, not really knowing why. He got to his feet and faced Gwen. “I’m sorry about your father. What happened?”
Gwen made her way down the steps and headed for the road that ran in front of Gallatin House. “There was a shooting,” she said.
Hank quickened his pace to keep up with her and was surprised to find Major Worthington at his side doing likewise. “A shooting?”
He saw the pain in Gwen’s expression. “A bunch of cowboys were celebrating outside the saloon. They began to fire off their weapons, and without warning, a bullet hit my father.”
“What was he doing in the midst of such rowdies?”
Gwen frowned. “It was my fault. I sent him to have the Lassiters sharpen some knives. He wouldn’t have been out there otherwise.”
“That hardly makes it your fault,” Hank replied. “It was an accident.”
“I suppose.”
She left the main road for a smaller side road that barely could qualify as a path in Hank’s estimation. She pointed ahead. “The cemetery is just up there. See where the trees are? It’s not far from the river. My father is buried next to Harvey.”
“It sounds like they were good friends,” Hank said, remembering earlier conversations.
Gwen nodded. “He was like a son to Pa. My father thought him the most remarkable of young men.” She paused and drew a deep breath. “I thought so, too.”
“If you’ll hold her,” Nick instructed Lacy, “I’ll tend this gash.”
One of their prized brood mares had taken a fall and managed to puncture her side. The cut on her hindquarter was quite deep and couldn’t be ignored.
“I’ve got her,” Lacy called from in front of the nervous animal.
Nick went to work while Lacy spoke in a soothing tone to the mare. “That’s a good girl. Easy now.”
“I hope this doesn’t bring on her foal,” Nick said, shaking his head. “She’s not due for another month.” The minutes seemed to drag by as he worked. The horse was patient, but Nick knew she wouldn’t tolerate his actions for long.
Lacy was encouraging. “I think she’ll be fine. The fall itself could easily have killed her baby or caused