Chapter 27

27

Philip finished off his soup without tasting it. He couldn’t spare any attention for something as mundane as flavor with the promise of Letty’s nursing siphoning every ounce of imagination his sluggish mind could generate.

One would expect her masculine attire to dim her femininity, but the opposite proved true. The coarse work clothes highlighted the delicacy of her features. Her slender neck stretched upward from the overlarge collar, and damp tendrils of hair curled at her nape and around her face in a way no cowboy would tolerate. Dainty wrists and hands contrasted with wide rolled cuffs, and the bare feet peeking out from the legs of her trousers made him want to sweep her off the floor and into his lap so she wouldn’t have to dirty her feet waiting on him. Not that he possessed the strength to sweep a woman anywhere in his current condition. A shame, that. Having her close enough to hold would surely warm his blood faster than the miserly stove in front of him. Old Ironsides was a stingy fellow when it came to distributing heat.

Philip placed his empty cup on the floor and held his hands out toward the stove. His fingertips recognized the higher temperature, but he couldn’t seem to draw any of it into his body. At least not enough to drive the chill from his bones. Yet. That would change in time. Hopefully. He just had to be patient. A virtue easier to master while surveilling an outlaw gang than while watching the woman he was supposed to protect take the lead and protect him instead. It pricked his pride and boosted his admiration at the same time.

She didn’t back down from a challenge, that was for sure. Didn’t let a little awkwardness keep her from doing what needed to be done, either. Once she claimed her inheritance, Scarlett Radcliffe would be one of the wealthiest women in Texas, yet here she stood dressed in trousers sporting holes in the knees and a rag-bin shirt probably last worn by a sweaty, middle-aged cowhand. And she was humming. A cheerful, bouncy tune that infused the room with hope. That infused him with hope. His physical body desperately craved heat, yet the natural warmth Letty exuded had him craving her even more. A craving he suspected wouldn’t end once his body temperature returned to normal. He’d met her barely a week ago, and he was already half in love with her.

Letty found the medical kit among the supplies and turned to face him. A smile bloomed across her face along with a pretty pink blush when she caught him watching her. She dipped her chin in that shy way of hers but marched forward with purpose radiating through her stride. The nearer she came, the harder his pulse pounded.

He was no doctor, but he could decipher the symptoms. His estimate of being half in love with her had been far too low.

She sidled up close to his chair, and he straightened his posture in response. He wished he wasn’t trembling like an undersized boy cornered by the school bully, but some things couldn’t be helped.

Her forehead furrowed as she took his measure. She set the medical kit down in the chair she had vacated, scooted the chair backward a few feet, then stepped into the resulting space.

“Can you stand?” She reached for his arm as if ready to steady him if he couldn’t manage on his own.

Philip set his jaw. He wasn’t that far gone. “Yes.”

He wasn’t sure why she wanted him on his feet, but at this point, proving he wasn’t a complete invalid seemed more important than understanding her rationale. Ignoring her proffered hand, he gripped the chair arms and levered himself up to his full height.

His legs shook as he straightened, but they held. The blanket, on the other hand, slid right off his shoulders to pool atop his chair.

Letty’s indrawn breath echoed loudly in the quiet room, and Philip was sure he would have blushed had he had any warm blood available in his face or extremities.

Apparently, his brain was still operating at reduced capacity. Why else would it not have occurred to him to clasp the blanket before standing in the presence of a lady? Especially one who’d been completely sheltered from menfolk. His sister might have witnessed him and his father strip to the waist to wash at the pump after a long day in the fields, but Letty had practically been raised in a convent, isolated as she had been with only her grandmother for company. He’d likely shocked her speechless.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he turned to retrieve the blanket.

She grabbed his hand. “No. Wait. I, uh, need to see where you’re injured.”

Unlike his bloodless face, hers glowed like hot embers, yet her eyes glittered with a determination he appreciated. The woman might have grown up sheltered, but she was no hothouse flower. Her inner strength and practical nature stood ready to rise to any challenge. Including facing a half-naked man with gumption and kindness.

Philip straightened and did his best imitation of a statue while aiming his gaze over her head, an easy-enough task since the top of her head barely reached his chin.

He knew what she’d find during her inspection. Scrapes along his belly where he’d pulled himself out of the river and up onto the log. A slash down his bicep where a branch had jabbed him dur ing his struggle with Rusty. A random smattering of claw marks where Rusty’s panicked scrambling had met his chest instead of the log. Everything was superficial. Including the teeth marks on his forearm. The ones that still shamed him. He’d practically attacked Letty in his delirium. Part of him wished the wolf’s teeth had driven deeper into his flesh. They’d barely broken the skin. As if Rusty had bitten more to bring Philip to his senses than to punish. The wolf had responded to Letty’s mercy—a mercy Philip hadn’t deserved, yet one that had been given without hesitation. A gift he’d do all in his power to keep her from regretting.

“I can clean these up myself,” he offered. The cut on his bicep was the only one that had bled significantly, but he was pretty sure it didn’t need stitches.

“But you won’t. I’m going to do it.” She had her bossy-britches voice turned back on.

Philip grinned. If she wanted to play nurse, who was he to argue? The way his hands shook, he’d probably spill half of their tincture of iodine anyway.

“You endured so much to save Rusty,” she said in a softer tone. “I’m so sorry.”

Her palm curved around his side, and the unexpected touch so startled Philip, every muscle from his abdomen to his sternum tightened. Her light, tender touch spawned a violent reaction inside him. His heart pummeled the wall of his chest with what felt like a dozen sledgehammers.

Suddenly unsteady, Philip pulled his feet out from under Rusty’s belly and widened his stance to keep from teetering. Cool air hit his feet and ankles as he pivoted to face her, sending a particularly large shiver coursing over him.

Her hand slid away from his skin. “We really need to do something about those shivers.”

Busy as he was trying to get his pulse under control, he paid little attention to her as she stretched around him to retrieve a blanket he no longer wanted. Who wanted a blanket when he could have her hands on his skin? Her touch did more to heat his blood than an entire stack of quilts. Wrangling his thoughts and desires, he stood still as she wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and tugged the opening closed beneath his chin. Just like a mother would do for a child. Not exactly the way he wanted her to perceive him. But then she stepped close and surrounded him with her arms. The side of her face pressed against his blanket-clad chest as she rubbed her arms up and down, her palms circling and creating a deliciously warm friction over his arms and back.

But, oh, how he wanted to hold her. To stretch wide arms currently trapped by her generosity, to open the blanket and welcome her inside. To snuggle her close until they both became so heated that the blanket was no longer needed.

She kept up her ministrations for a couple of minutes, her motions slowing as her arms tired, becoming more of a soothing rub than a frantic friction conductor. Philip’s eyes slid closed as he leaned against her and enjoyed each and every stroke. For the first time since the river, Philip felt his circulation begin to revive.

Eventually her motions stopped, and she squeezed his upper arms. Philip reluctantly opened his eyes and straightened. Glancing down, he caught a shy and utterly captivating smile stretch across her face.

“That’s better,” she said before dipping her chin and taking a step back to retrieve the medical kit.

Better seemed far too tame a description. Like calling a wild mustang a pony.

Letty picked up the medical kit and pried open the lid. “All right. Let’s take care of these scrapes, shall we?”

She tended to him with gentle persistence, scrubbing what needed to be scrubbed yet exerting great care to cause him the least discomfort possible. Not that the discomfort bothered him all that much. The iodine stung, and it didn’t feel great when Letty cleaned away the dried blood from the gouge on his arm, exposing the raw places underneath, but even that couldn’t dim the pleasure of having her fingers roam over his skin.

He was falling hard for this woman, and if he read her blushes and darting glances correctly, she might just be falling for him, too. The situation would be perfect if she were truly Letty Hood, small-town country girl who loved wolves and unrealistic fairy stories. He could craft a life with that woman. Leave the Pinkertons, buy some land, and build a house that they could fill with a passel of kids.

But Letty Hood didn’t exist. She was just a temporary persona created to protect the woman beneath the disguise—Scarlett Radcliffe. A woman destined to live a life of privilege and responsibility. Heir to the Radcliffe fortune. Expected to take her place at her mother’s side, running businesses and charities and socializing with the cream of society. Letty might be a free spirit and a country girl at heart, but she was also loyal, dedicated, and driven by duty. She’d not turn her back on family, and frankly, he wouldn’t want her to. She and her mother had been separated long enough. They deserved to rediscover each other and establish the kind of bond he enjoyed with his parents, even if that meant he had to step aside.

Becoming a Radcliffe would change her. Just like becoming a Pinkerton had changed him. He was still the same person at his core, he carried the same values and faith, but he’d been shaped by his experiences, just as she would be shaped by hers. He could visit the family farm, do the old chores, and resume the old routine, but it didn’t fit him the way it used to. He soon grew discontent and began looking to the horizon. If he and Letty were to have any kind of future, she’d have to fit with him not only as the Letty he knew now but as the Scarlett she would become. And his track record of fitting in with people of the Radcliffes’ ilk didn’t hold out a lot of hope for the happily-ever-after Letty warranted.

“There.” Her voice brought him out of his rather depressing cogitations.

A tightness banded his arm. He glanced down and found the bandage she’d fastened around his bicep. Her hand lingered on his arm, sending an awareness shooting through him that dared him to believe they could overcome whatever obstacles stood in the way of their being together.

Philip’s gut hardened. He was an investigator. One who sought facts, not a lackey who jumped to conclusions. He couldn’t know for sure how well he’d fit with Scarlett until she emerged. Only a coward would fail to follow the trail just because the chances of getting hurt outnumbered the chances of finding what he sought.

Feeling as quaky on the inside as he’d been on the outside for the last several hours, Philip steeled himself to embark on what could be the most important case of his career. He lifted his gaze to peer into her face and made a silent vow. He’d not be a coward. He’d see where the trail led and gather the evidence he needed to make an informed decision. It would take time, patience, and more self-control than any case he’d worked before, but his gut told him she was worth the effort.

“Thank you, Letty.” He raised his left hand and ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek in a soft caress.

Her lashes curtained her eyes, but she didn’t move away from his touch.

“I haven’t been thinking too clearly of late,” he admitted, “but now that my wits are returning, there are a few things that have become clear.”

Slowly her lashes lifted to reveal the prettiest pair of hazel eyes he’d likely ever see.

“You are a remarkable woman.” He ran his palm over her shoulder and down her arm until he covered her hand with his. He twined his fingers through hers, and her breath hitched. His chest tightened in response. “You’re selfless and brave, putting the needs of others ahead of your own, even when ordered not to.” He smiled to let her know he was teasing and not scolding, just in case she had any doubts. “You’re strong and intelligent and as tenderhearted as you are stubborn.”

Her eyes had widened with each compliment, and Philip worried he’d said too much too soon. His gaze slid to her mouth, and the urge to close the distance between them and press his lips to hers grew so intense, he nearly surrendered. But he was still on duty, and he’d not do anything to dishonor her or himself. Reeling in his emotions, he slid his fingers away from hers and lowered himself back onto the chair.

“I don’t think I would have survived the day without you.”

Her gaze followed him, seizing his attention and making it impossible to look away. “I’m glad you did,” she said, her voice slightly husky. “I care about you, Philip. I don’t want any harm to come to you, especially on my account.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, Letty. Without hesitation or regret.”

“I know.” She dipped her chin, and his chest immediately ached at the loss of her gaze. “That’s what worries me.”