Chapter 21

21

A few sprinkles began to fall from the overcast sky, and Letty reached for the hood of her cape to stretch it over her hair. The weather had turned cool two nights ago and hadn’t yet warmed. Rather like her companion. She bit back a sigh as she stared at Philip’s back.

Something had shifted between them after the night they’d spent at the Bullock home. At first, she’d attributed the change in Philip’s demeanor to the awkwardness of pretending to be a married couple, but when his aloofness didn’t wear off after the first few hours, she realized something else was at play.

The fringe on the back of Philip’s buckskin coat swayed gently with the rhythm of his horse’s gait. If only the man were equally relaxed. There’d been a tension about him the last two days—one she’d not been able to dispel with either teasing or friendly chatter. Letty was no expert on friendship, having little-to-no experience to draw from, but no one could fail to miss the wall Philip had erected between them. He’d laid bricks of silence and polite distance, yet they carried the same heft as if they’d been made of clay and stone. Her attempts to penetrate the barrier had fallen short thus far. The pebbles she’d been tossing at him bounced off without making a dent. Might be time to hunt up a boulder or two. Along with a catapult. She grinned at the absurd image, then sobered. She wasn’t at war with the man. She just missed him. Missed the closeness they’d shared before the barn debacle.

He must have been pretending sleep that morning. It made sense. She’d never once sneaked up on the man. His hearing nearly rivaled Rusty’s. She wanted to believe that Philip had faked slumber in order to spare her embarrassment. Or even to spare himself. Yet she couldn’t deny the possibility that her wanton snuggling behavior, no matter how inadvertent, might have caused her to lose his respect and trust. A prospect as gray and dismal as the clouds overhead.

There’d been a couple of times, however, that she’d caught him looking at her with the same warmth in his eyes that she recalled from earlier in their travels. He’d blink it away before she could approach him, of course, but those glimpses allowed her to believe that his friendship hadn’t died. It had just been chained up in a dungeon somewhere, waiting for her to find the right key.

Goodness. Catapults and dungeons? Letty shook her head and quirked a smile. Who knew melancholia would turn her thoughts in such a medieval direction? If she wasn’t careful, she’d soon have Philip digging symbolic moats and contracting metaphorical plagues. They might soon be battling ogres and—

“We’re almost to the troll bridge.”

Letty’s head came up. Trolls? Good heavens. Had her medieval melancholy infected Philip, too?

He didn’t look melancholy, though, when he reined his horse around. Just serious. She was coming to dislike that solemn expression. The one that made her feel like a duty. And an unpleasant one, at that. Oh, how she missed his smile.

Letty halted her mare as Philip drew abreast, facing her. The packhorse placidly followed along on the far side.

“The livery owner in Rusk said that traffic on the bridge is lightest in the morning,” he said as he shifted in the saddle, “but I want you and Rusty to stay behind the tree line anyway until I fetch you.”

Ah. Toll bridge. That made more sense. No trolls under this bridge, only the Neches River.

Letty nodded, imitating his serious expression. “I remember your instructions from last night.” He’d been very thorough as he explained his plans for today’s river crossing. “I’m to leash Rusty and keep him at my side at all times. I’m to wear my hood, keep my eyes locked on Shadow’s mane, and not speak to anyone unless absolutely necessary.”

She wasn’t too sure how Rusty would react to a leash, but she’d do her best to see he played his part. Letty intended to earn her way back into Philip’s good graces, and following his instructions to the letter seemed like a good strategy. Especially in light of his nervousness about exposing her to strangers. If there had been a place to cross the river safely on their own, he would have avoided the bridge altogether. But her lack of swimming skill combined with an impending storm had forced his hand.

Hoping to elicit a smile from him, she offered one of her own. “I’ll be as unassuming as a rock,” she vowed with only a hint of teasing in her voice. “You’ll see. No one will pay me the least notice.”

His mouth curved the wrong direction. “The chances of that are nil.”

Letty’s spirits sank, as did her smile. “I promise not to draw attention, Philip. Truly. I’ll keep my head down and won’t look at a soul.”

He let out a beleaguered sigh. “You’re a beautiful woman in a red cloak. People are going to notice.”

He thought her beautiful? Her pulse danced. Until she realized he considered that beauty a flaw.

“What if I smear mud on my face?” She glanced around for a likely source. If the mist turned to rain in the next few minutes, she’d have an ample supply. Excitement built as she considered her plan. “I can smear mud on my cape, too. Hide the color.”

His eyes softened for the briefest instant before he tore his gaze away to stare down the trail behind her. “I don’t think it would make any difference.” He grumbled the words, but she swore a touch of humor echoed behind the gruffness. “Just follow the plan without any embellishments, all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

He dipped his chin, then turned Steele around and moved back into the lead position. Rusty trotted along at Letty’s side, tongue lolling, unconcerned by the undercurrents zinging between the humans around him. The trees eventually thinned enough that Philip signaled her to halt. He dropped the packhorse’s lead and gave the order to stand. Then he turned to Letty.

“The bridge should be about a quarter mile downstream. I’ll scout it out, and when there are no other travelers in sight, I’ll return for you. It could be five minutes; it could be an hour. There’s no way to know.”

Letty nodded her understanding. “I’ll have Rusty ready when you return.” Although, the shorter the wait, the more likely Rusty would cooperate.

“If any trouble arises while I’m gone, fire a shot into the air, and I’ll come running.”

He’d purchased a small pistol for her in Church Hill when he stopped at the general store there to pick up new blankets for their bedrolls. She kept it in her saddlebag, not yet comfortable enough with the weapon to carry it on her person. She much preferred her knife, should a weapon be needed, yet a knife couldn’t compete with a gun when it came to long-distance signaling.

She patted the saddlebag and offered a smile. “I know what to do. This isn’t the first time you’ve left me alone.”

“No, but it’s the first time I’ve left you so close to a main road. Anyone could stumble upon you and recognize your likeness from one of the reward posters your uncle’s men have been plastering all over creation.” His eyes raked her face, his jaw clenching tight.

“I’ll be fine, Philip.” Her heart softened as she took him in. She might be seeing what she wanted to see, but the concern in his stormy gray eyes seemed deeper than what professional duty demanded. “Go,” she urged. “Do what you need to do. We’ll be here when you return.”

His jaw moved, and she thought he might say something, but instead he nodded and rode off.

She followed him with her gaze until he exited the trees. Heaving a sigh full of fairy-tale wishes that she should have outgrown years ago, Letty dismounted and retrieved the length of rope they’d prepared last night to serve as Rusty’s leash. She turned to face her pet and patted her leg. He padded over to her and licked her face when she crouched down to hug his neck.

Letty gave him a good scratch. “I need you to do me a favor, all right?”

She held the rope across her flat palms so he could examine it and give it a good sniff.

“We’re going across a bridge, and people get nervous when they see wolves wandering around free. That’s why I need you to wear this around your neck.”

Philip had fashioned what he called a bowline knot on one end of the thin rope. She showed the circle to Rusty.

“I know you don’t like being tied, but this will just be for a little while.”

Moving slowly, she aimed the loop for Rusty’s head. He dodged her first few attempts, but she eventually prevailed.

“That’s a good boy,” she praised as she moved the leash past his ears and settled it around his neck. He shook his head and tugged, but she soothed him with another round of petting. Rubbing his neck, she worked her hands up and held his face so that his eyes peered into hers.

“Please do this for me, Rusty. It’s important.”

Amber eyes stared into hers, the bond they’d had since childhood holding firm. She felt the tension drain from his body and knew he’d accepted the leash. At least for now.

She grinned and ruffled his ears. “I knew I could count on you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a scrap of jerky she’d stashed away for just this occasion. She held it out to him and laughed when he nipped it from her hand.

Rising to her feet, she let the rope feed through her hands until the full length dangled between them. She took a firm hold of the end, imitating the grip Philip used for the packhorse, then mounted Shadow.

“Let’s practice a bit, shall we?” She clicked to her mare and walked her in a circle. “Heel, Rusty.”

Already used to that command, Rusty came alongside the horse.

“Good boy.”

Now to try something harder. Little by little, Letty reeled in the slack, urging Rusty to come closer. The first time he felt the loop tug against his neck, he stopped and snapped at the rope.

Letty didn’t slow her horse, just gave him a bit of slack and called out encouragement. “Come, Rusty. Heel.”

They made three circles before Rusty finished a full rotation on the shortest lead. Letty praised his work and offered another piece of jerky. She continued the practice until the sound of a horse approaching brought her to a halt. Rusty didn’t growl, so she knew the rider must be Philip, but she fingered the hilt of her knife just in case.

When her protector rode through the trees, Letty glanced down at Rusty. “Come on. Let’s show him how smart you are.”

Smiling, she rode forward. “We’re ready.”

Philip almost smiled. His mouth didn’t really curl, but his eyes crinkled enough that she decided to count it.

“Good. The roadway is clear. I’ve already paid the toll, so we should be able to ride straight on. I’ll head down the middle with the packhorse. You and Rusty stay on the outside. If any traffic comes from the other side, I’ll do my best to block you.”

Letty nodded and pulled her hood down as far as it would go. It limited her vision, but as long as she could see the back of Philip’s horse, she’d be fine. Shadow had been following Steele long enough to know what to do without her mistress’s guidance.

When they moved out from the shelter of the trees, the rain that had felt like a gentle mist thickened to a steady drizzle. It was a light shower, not even enough to turn the dirt to mud, but it created the perfect excuse for her hood.

Turning her face toward the river, Letty scanned the Neches. It had to be at least two to three hundred feet wide. Maybe more. The surface looked calm, but so much water had to have a strong current. The overcast sky lent a gray appearance to the water, giving it a menacing feel, one that made her glad she’d be keeping her eyes locked on her horse.

Philip called out a greeting to the man in the tollhouse, positioning himself between her and the booth. She didn’t look up when the man wished them a good day, just kept her head bowed and her grip firm on Rusty’s leash. Hoofbeats muffled by dirt and sand began to clomp on wooden planks.

The bridge was wide, built to allow herds of cattle to cross in the days before the railroad supplanted the longer trail drives. Even so, Philip steered her toward the trestle edge.

“There’s a rider on the far side about to mount the bridge,” Philip murmured. “He’s got a dog with him. Keep a tight hold on Rusty.”

Letty’s stomach churned as her knuckles whitened around the leash. “Good boy, Rusty,” she murmured softly as they neared the midpoint of the bridge. “Stay close to me now.”

A bark she didn’t recognize echoed from somewhere ahead of them. Then nails clicked, the sound of a dog running.

“Easy, Rusty. Pay him no mind.”

But a wolfish growl drowned out her words. He pulled against her.

“Heel, Rusty.” She forced more authority into her voice and gave a tug on the leash.

“Ho, there,” Philip called in a cheerful voice. “Mind callin’ your dog back? Ours is a bit territorial. Would hate for the two to get into a scuffle.”

A large hound appeared at the edge of Letty’s vision. He snapped at the packhorse’s legs as if culling a weak steer from its herd.

A disturbing cackle sent chills running along Letty’s neck. “Fang there’s the best fighter in two counties. He ain’t afraid of no scuffle.”

Fang ? Good heavens.

Rusty began to bark in earnest and strained at the leash.

“Call back your dog.” Philip’s voice hardened like quenched steel. “He’s disturbing my horses.”

The hound snapped at the packhorse’s heels again as if he thought it all some kind of game. The packhorse shied, kicking out at his tormentor. The hound dodged the horse’s hoof, then danced behind him to snap at Shadow. His teeth nipped flesh, and Letty’s mare reared. Letty squealed as she fought to keep her seat. The sound galvanized Rusty, and before she knew what had happened, he attacked, surging forward with such strength that the leash tore from her hand.

“Rusty. No!”

But her wolf was beyond obedience. With a deadly snarl, he lunged forward and bit the troublemaker on the shoulder. The hound whimpered and darted away, but Rusty gave chase. Too intent on protecting his adopted pack to heed his mistress’s call.

Letty got Shadow under control just in time to see Rusty catch up to the black hound. The two fell on each other, snarling and growling like something from a nightmare.

She had to stop them. She urged Shadow forward, but Philip cut in front of her.

“Get off the bridge. Now.” His voice still rang with steel, but it was the fear in his eyes that hit her the hardest.

He released his hold on the packhorse’s lead and swatted the animal on the rump. The small horse ran for the shore, more than eager to escape the chaos of the bridge.

Tears filled her eyes as she wagged her head. “I can’t leave him, Philip. I can’t!”

“I’ll take care of him. I promise. Now, go!” He smacked Shadow’s rump as well, and her mare leapt forward.

Letty held on, her heart throbbing. She trusted Philip, but his duty was to protect her, not her wolf.

As she passed the vile man with the creepy cackle, she saw his arm move in a direction that caused her to pull on Shadow’s reins.

“Is that a wolf ?” The foul-smelling man drew a revolver from his holster. “Get him away from my dog, or I’ll shoot ’im.”

No. Please, God. No!

She turned Shadow around. She couldn’t let that man shoot Rusty.

Philip had dismounted and was doing his best to grab Rusty’s leash, but the snarling dogs made it nearly impossible to get close.

The two dogs finally separated, but Rusty was on the far side, near the trestle. Too far for Philip to reach. The black hound limped as the two dogs circled each other.

The man with the gun cursed at the sight of his battered dog and raised his arm.

“Rusty! Run!” Letty kicked Shadow forward and lunged for the man’s arm.

Rusty sprinted toward her, a new foe in his sights.

“Get off me, woman!” The man yanked his arm away from her and twisted his horse sideways to stay out of her grasp.

Then, like a man well used to inflicting pain on animals, he pulled his boot from his stirrup, and the moment Rusty bounded into range, he kicked out with full force, his boot smashing into Rusty’s side and sending him hurtling toward the trestle. As Letty watched in horror, he skidded through one of the gaping openings and plummeted into the river below.