Chapter 11

11

Philip set his jaw as he made his way back to the Hood cabin the following morning.

She’s just a job. A duty to fulfill like any other assignment.

He’d been repeating the litany to himself since yesterday. Not that it had done him any good. He’d still dreamed about her last night. Her unbound, fire-kissed hair blowing in the wind. Those hazel eyes dancing with mischief. A mysterious smile playing upon her lips.

When they’d met, he’d been more concerned with gaining her agreement than appreciating her feminine attributes. Nevertheless, his mind had absorbed all the details of her figure anyway and brought them into his awareness while his guard had been compromised by sleep. Slender yet possessing enough curves to catch a man’s eye. Petite yet agile and strong. Then there’d been the childlike dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks. They’d highlighted her innocence and stirred protective urges that went beyond the usual sense of responsibility he experienced when tasked with guarding someone.

’Course he’d dreamed of her wolf, too. The moment he’d stretched out a hand to cup her cheek and draw her close, the beast had sprung on him—big ears pinned back, big eyes glittering with hostility, big teeth bared and ready to pierce his jugular.

He’d jerked awake, his heart pounding and his breath coming in ragged clips as he ran a hand down his neck to verify that all skin and blood vessels remained intact.

No water needed to cool his ardor after that terrifying vision.

Being alone with an attractive young woman for days on end would carry its own sets of unique challenges to be sure, but he was a professional. He’d do his job and maintain the required emotional distance.

At least she wasn’t an uppity debutante with a whiny voice to constantly grate on his nerves. Being tied to that kind of woman for an extended length of time would make him want to crawl out of his skin and find himself another occupation. He hadn’t spent much time in Letty Hood’s company, but from what he’d observed, she seemed like a reasonable woman. One who rode well, could handle the rigors of solitude, and was accustomed to fending for herself. As long as she didn’t try to strap her chair atop their bedrolls, cooking pans, and foodstuffs, they’d get along just fine.

Philip grinned at the memory of her teasing as he guided Steele up the hill that led to the Hood cabin. The pack pony he’d acquired from Mr. Johnson plodded along beside him, the lead line looped inside Philip’s right hand. The small bay was sturdy and well-trained, a must for the journey they were about to embark upon. Well worth the time he’d spent riding back to Atlanta for supplies. The livery in Queen City hadn’t had much stock to choose from, and while he could have made do with the local merchandise for setting up camp and keeping him and Letty fed, a horse not trained to pack would have been a thorn in their side. They couldn’t afford to be slowed down by a bad-tempered animal or one with a tendency to run off whenever the urge struck. Thanks to Mr. Johnson, they wouldn’t have to worry about trouble cropping up from that quarter. Which was good, seeing as how Philip needed to focus on trouble coming from everywhere else.

When the Hood cabin came into view, he found himself scanning the yard, seeking his travel companion. He didn’t spy Letty, but he did spot a pretty black mare standing outside the cabin door. She’d been saddled and laden with a pair of bulging saddlebags. Rusty rose from the sunny place he’d been lying in and gave himself a good stretch before he announced Philip’s arrival with a series of barks that would have sounded much more ferocious had Philip not just seen him yawn like a sleep-tousled adolescent boy.

Steele tossed his head and sidestepped a bit at the wolf’s approach, however.

“Easy, boy. Don’t want our new partner to spook.” Philip tightened his grip on the packhorse’s lead line.

Steele snorted once, then settled, his trust in his owner absolute. Either that, or he’d seen how unbothered Letty’s mare acted amid all the hullaballoo, and his pride wouldn’t let him show fear in front of a female.

A malady that seemed to affect Philip as well, for the moment the front door opened and Miss Hood stepped through, he forced the frown he’d been aiming at her wolf into a bland look of nonchalance.

“Rusty, come!”

The wolf stopped barking at the sound of her voice, but he hesitated to obey her command. He stared Philip down for a few seconds first. The kind of glare Philip had received from the fathers or brothers of the few girls he’d paid court to before joining the Pinkertons. It was rather eerie how human the wolf seemed in that moment.

After shooting off a canine death glare, Rusty turned and bounded back to his mistress, eagerly taking up his position at her side.

Miss Hood rewarded the little terror with a thorough rub, then instructed him to sit. He did, with all the haughtiness of a king settling onto his throne. Philip arched a brow. The alpha assertion couldn’t be much clearer. Philip might have felt the need to challenge were they not leaving the beast behind. Let Rusty rule his little corner of the forest. Philip would handle things along the trail between here and Houston.

“Good morning to you, Mr. Carmichael.” Miss Hood’s smile looked a tad forced as she took a step in his direction.

She signaled her wolf to stay with the flat of her hand, and surprisingly enough, the arrogant beast deigned to comply, proving his devotion to his lady was greater than his need to exert his dominance.

Switching his attention to a much more pleasant figure, Philip fingered the brim of his hat and gave his hostess a nod. “Miss Hood.” He glanced up at the blue sky and smiled. “Looks like the Lord blessed us with a fine day to start our journey.”

He looped the packhorse’s lead line around the saddle horn, making sure it would pull away easily should the horse decide to move. Then he dismounted and strode forward to meet his charge.

“I see you have your mount ready.” He nodded toward the mare. “She looks like a sound horse. Do you ride regularly?”

“Every morning.” A bit of the strain left her face as her gaze slid from him to her horse. “She and I both love a good gallop.”

“Nothing quite as exhilarating as flying over the earth on the back of a horse. Freedom at its finest.”

Her hazel eyes found his. “Indeed.”

What was going on in that pretty head of hers? The way she looked at him made him feel as if he was a mystery she was trying to sort out. For the life of him, he couldn’t say what was so mysterious about him agreeing on the benefits of a good gallop, but then he’d never been one to claim an understanding of the female mind.

She gave her head a barely perceptible shake, one he would have missed had he not been studying her so closely. Then she brightened and swept an arm toward the house in invitation.

“Come on inside. Grandmother insisted we kill the fatted calf for our last shared meal together. We’ve got eggs, bacon, a fresh batch of buttermilk biscuits, and a pan full of sausage gravy waiting for you. Hope you came hungry.”

“That I did, ma’am.” His mouth had started watering the minute she opened the door and released the smell of fried bacon and skillet sausage into the world.

She paused, and her brow wrinkled slightly. “You’re not planning to call me ma’am the whole time we’re traveling together, are you?”

He had been, actually. Ma’am or Miss Hood. Formality seemed a worthy scheme for fortifying his defenses against the intimacy that naturally sprang up between two people forced to share each other’s company for an extended length of time.

“I’d much prefer that you call me Letty. I know it’s not completely proper given our short acquaintance, but I...” Her gaze fell to the ground, and her fingers fiddled with her apron strings. “I’m not ready to become Scarlett Radcliffe again. Not yet.” She lifted her chin, and the vulnerability shining in eyes that suddenly looked more green than brown hit him square in the chest. “When I arrive in Houston, I’ll be surrounded by formality and rules and ... expectations . Everyone there has an idea of who I should be and what I should do. I have a role to play, and when the time comes, I intend to play it to the best of my ability. But until then, I want to hold on to my true self as long as possible. To delight in the comfort of a familiar skin before I’m forced to shed it and become someone new.” The passion in her eyes dimmed as she nibbled on her lower lip and dropped her gaze to somewhere around his navel. “I’m sure this sounds silly to a man like you. You probably slip skins on and off with the ease of pulling on a fresh shirt in the morning, becoming whoever you need to be to accomplish the detective work you’ve been assigned.”

She’d be surprised at precisely how not silly he found her confession. He’d worked a few undercover cases early in his career, and while he’d enjoyed the challenge and intrigue of pretending to be someone he wasn’t, he’d never gotten used to the dishonesty inherent in such jobs. Putting on that particular skin left a rash on his soul that itched to high heaven. The irritation lessened once he began avoiding those types of investigations, but he remembered all too well the toll of being inauthentic.

“I don’t think you silly at all.” Philip waited for her lashes to lift. “In fact, I admire your candor. Bodes well for our upcoming excursion.” He held her gaze, debated with himself for a moment, then decided to return her candidness with a little plain speaking of his own. “Out on the trail, I’m going to do my best to steer us clear of danger, but we’re bound to face trouble now and again. When that happens, survival will require that we rely on each other. Trust grows stronger when it’s planted in honesty, so if my calling you Letty makes it easier for you to be your true self, then that’s what I’ll do.” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “’Course, that means you’ll have to call me Philip. In the spirit of fairness.”

A smile stole its way onto her face and lit her eyes in a way that set his pulse to thumping a little harder than usual. “Well, I do appreciate fairness.”

“I thought you might.”

Criminy. Was he flirting?

Get your head on straight, man. Sure, the job will be easier if you get along with the girl, but it’ll be a whole lot harder if you start falling for her.

Rescue came from an unexpected source. Rusty padded over and inserted himself between the two of them, pressing hard enough against Miss Hood’s—Letty’s—legs to force her back a step.

Philip frowned. “Maybe I should take my animals to the barn. I trust my gray to hold his ground as long as your wolf doesn’t directly threaten him, but I’m not sure how the new packhorse will react.”

“You can take them to the barn if you like,” Letty said as she idly stroked Rusty’s fur, “but it might be good for them to start getting used to each other.”

“Why’s that?” Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

“Because Rusty’s coming with us.”

The woman might not be silly, but she was definitely lacking common sense. Why risk taking a wild animal on a mission that required stealth and anonymity? Had she forgotten that they were going to end up in Houston—one of the largest cities in Texas? What was Rusty supposed to do there? Don Grandma’s nightgown and lay in bed all day hoping no one noticed the oversized snout and carnivorous teeth?

He said none of this aloud, but some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, for Letty’s lips pressed together in a thin line.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” For more reasons than he cared to enumerate, but he chose to focus on the top three. “The goal is to avoid attention. If anyone spots a pair of travelers accompanied by a wolf, it’s going to stand out in their minds. They’ll likely remark upon it to others.”

“Should they hear the tale, there’s no reason for my uncle’s men to assume that I’m the woman traveling with a wolf. A renowned Pinkerton detective would never allow such foolishness, after all.”

“I never said it was foolish.”

The look she aimed at him made it all too clear that one need not vocalize a sentiment to express it.

“Look.” He blew out a breath. “Wild animals are unpredictable. Even well-trained ones. If I’m going to protect you, I need to be able to analyze situations in an instant and accurately predict outcomes. Having a wild card thrown into the mix makes my job harder, which leaves you more vulnerable.”

“If you think I’m more vulnerable with Rusty than without him, you’re the fool.” Her eyes darkened to a swampy green that warned of man-eating bogs and hidden gators. “His loyalty doesn’t stem from a promised payday; it runs in his blood. He’s been faithful to me for seven years. I’ve barely known you for two days. You talked about trust. Well, I trust Rusty.” She bent down and hugged the gloating animal’s neck.

“Give him a chance, Philip.” Her voice echoed softly between them, but the use of his name crashed into his chest as if she’d launched it from a catapult. “He can aid your cause if you let him. He can hear things from a greater distance than we can. He can see better in the dark and can sense when danger approaches, whether human or animal. He’s an asset, not a liability.”

Philip rubbed the spot on his chest that would have been sore had she volleyed with more than words. As loath as he was to admit it, she had a point. A wolf’s senses were keener than a man’s. But he still didn’t like the idea of throwing another variable into an already complicated mix.

“What are you going to do with him when you get to Houston?” Philip fired the only ammunition left in his proverbial gun. “The city’s no place for a wolf. No place for him to roam or hunt. Only brick streets and buildings all around. Not to mention hundreds of people. None of whom would welcome such an animal in their midst. He’d be miserable.”

She took Rusty’s face in her hands and pressed her forehead against his. “We’ll figure it out.” Her voice sounded small. Uncertain. Made him feel more like a bully than her protector.

Shoot. He’d liked it better when she was calling him a mercenary fool.

“I don’t have to stay in the city,” she said. “Grandmother still owns a house outside of town where we can stay. Or I can find some acreage and build a place of my own. What good is being an heiress if I can’t share a home with my best friend?”

The wolf licked her face, which led to her clasping the beast around his neck, her hold a bit desperate in nature. Letty stayed that way for a heartbeat or two, then seemed to gather herself and loosened her grip on her pet. After giving Rusty a final rub, she straightened and turned her attention to Philip.

Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, yet her voice didn’t wobble as she made her final petition. “Please let him come.”

He tried to harden his heart to her plea. He really did. But the mudslide had already started down the canyon wall, and there was no stopping it.

“Fine,” he groused, crossing his arms with a grunt. “But if he scares off my packhorse, I’m strapping the supplies to that mangy hide of his.”

She beamed a smile at him that nearly knocked him out of his boots, then went a step further and laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you! You won’t be sorry. I promise.”

He was already sorry.

Trouble was, he was too happy to see her smiling again to care.