She almost laughed at the thought.
Nate must have heard or felt her capping her humor as he looked at her, a question in his eyes.
She shook her head. He’d never understand even if she could explain without sounding like an absolute idiot.
He tipped his head toward Dusty and raised his eyebrows. She knew he had the same concern she did as to the man’s mental condition.
With a sound of half growl, half exasperation, Dusty opened the door, letting cold and snow race across the room.
Dutch looked up from his book. “What are you doing? Close the door before we freeze.”
Dusty ignored the order and bellowed, “Weasel, where are ya?”
Louise and Nate stared at the man, then turned to Dutch for explanation.
“That’s his dog,” Dutch said, then spoke again to Dusty. “Do you think the dog isn’t smart enough to find shelter? He won’t come running to you in this weather if he has a lick of sense.”
Dusty bellowed again, “Weasel, get in here.” Then he slammed the door. “Confounded dog. Who needs him anyway?” He threw his bedding on the floor and lay down, pulling the covers to his nose. “I’m going to sleep.” Within seconds he was snoring.
The others looked about in confusion. The room was too small to provide the women any privacy and no one suggested the men should go out into the storm.
Nate made the first move. “I’ll turn the lamp down low and we’ll turn our backs so you women can prepare for bed.”
There didn’t seem to be any other option. Louise had never shed a few layers and crawled between the covers so fast in her life.
“We’re in bed,” Louise said when both Missy and Rowena had finished their preparations.
Missy giggled, the sound muted by the blanket she pulled to her face. “That was mighty fast.”
“I didn’t trust someone not to look,” Rowena answered.
“If I ever run a stagecoach business,” Louise said with utmost conviction, though it wasn’t something she’d ever consider doing, “I will provide separate sleeping quarters for the ladies, and some better-quality blankets.”
“Amen to that,” Rowena said.
Nate spread his blanket close to Louise. “I’ll sleep nearest the women in case my wife needs me,” he said to the whole group, but looked at Louise as he spoke.
She thanked him with a grateful smile. With Nate so close, Dusty would not be able to bother Missy, who crowded to her side.
“Time for you three to turn your backs,” Nate ordered, and turned out the lamp to ensure further privacy. The thud of boots and rustle of covers signaled the men retiring.
In the tiny room, the women were crowded into one corner and the men were equally crowded and but a few feet away. But Louise felt safe and warm knowing Nate was within reach. Even the whine and wail of the wind and the rattle of the snow against the walls did not keep her awake.
It felt like the middle of the night when a noise startled her from her sleep.
She made out the dark shape of a man bent over the table and then the lamp glowed yellow and harsh in the darkness. Dusty. What was he doing?
She reached out and found Nate’s blankets. He took her hand and held it.
Dutch sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Dusty, you old coot. What are you doing?”
“Gotta find Weasel.”
“I tell you that dog is safe and sound. He won’t stir in the middle of the night no matter how loudly you call or how many threats you holler.”
“It’s almost morning.”
“Too dark to be morning.” The argument continued between the two men.
“It’s dark because it’s still storming.”
Dutch groaned. “I don’t care for delays.”
Nate’s grip grew firmer and Louise squeezed back. He didn’t care for delays, either, but at least this one was weather related and, as he said, she couldn’t blame herself. Nor could he blame her.
“Please, God, bring an end to the storm.” She hadn’t planned to pray aloud, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the moment.
“Amen,” came from several directions.
“You could pray for my dog while you’re at it,” Dusty said, then slammed out of the cabin before anyone could stop him.