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She faked a pout. “Spoilsport.”
Eyes glowing with amusement, he poured himself a cup of coffee. Regan placed the biscuits in a bowl and decided she enjoyed starting her day with his smile instead of the distance he’d employed in the past.
Anna entered. Her attire of denims, shirt, and boots again mimicked Regan’s. “Good morning, Papa. Good morning, Miss Regan.”
Both adults greeted her in turn.
“Can you take the plates to the table, sweetheart?” Regan asked.
She nodded eagerly and exited with the three stacked plates.
“How about I take the eggs?” Colt asked, gesturing to a bowl on the counter.
“If you would, please. I’ll bring the rest.”
He complied and Regan followed him out.
As they ate their breakfast, Anna said, “I like the way you cook, Miss Regan.”
“Thank you, Anna. Maybe when the new stove arrives, I can show you how to make biscuits. Would you like that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Regan saw approval in Colt’s eyes. “Do you have any fishing poles?” she asked him.
“I do.”
“Where’s the best place to fish?”
“The river that cuts through Odell’s land.”
Since it was Saturday and she had nothing planned, she asked Anna, “Shall we go fishing today?”
The little girl responded by looking to her father, who replied, “It’s your decision.”
She turned back to Regan. “I don’t know how to go fishing.”
“That’s quite all right. I’ll teach you.” Regan watched Colt butter another biscuit and shook off the memory of his hands doing other things last night, and asked, “Will Mr. Odell mind?”
“No. Just about everyone fishes there. I’ll get the poles out of the barn for you.”
“Would you care to join us?”
She wanted him to come along but didn’t know his plans for the day. She thought this might be a nice way to begin their pact.
“I’d like that.”
His reply pleased her and the smile on Anna’s face indicated her pleasure as well.
With Colt driving the wagon they set out. In the bed were poles, a basket holding food, jugs for water, and kindling in case they wanted to eat some of the catch for the midday meal. All in all, Regan was looking forward to spending the day with her new family. She also had questions about the beauty of the land. Spring wildflowers covered the countryside in a riot of colors. The ever-present mountains with their snowy caps dominated the view.
“Do these mountains have a name?” she asked.
“Yes. They’re called the Bighorns. The Cheyenne, Crow, and Sioux considered them sacred.”
“Are the tribes still nearby?”
“Yes, but on reservations. Cheyenne and Sioux were the last to be brought in.”
