Chapter 30

30

A gunshot split the air at the same moment that Philip’s large frame crashed into Letty and pinned her to the ground. Breath whooshed from her lungs.

What was happening?

“Stay down.” Philip’s command held her to the ground even as he lifted his body away from hers to draw his revolver.

He crouched over her, shielding her with his body as he shot into the trees. A rustling sounded from the opposite direction. Was there a second shooter?

“Philip, behind you!”

He pivoted, gun raised.

Rusty raced out of the trees. Letty gasped, and Philip jerked the barrel of his revolver toward the sky.

He leapt to his feet and pointed at the wolf. “Stay with her!”

Without giving her a chance to argue, he ran into the night.

“Philip!” She pushed to a sitting position and trained her gaze on his back as he disappeared into the woods in pursuit of their attacker.

Lord, protect him!

The darkness hid the villain. She prayed it would hide Philip, too. A shot echoed from somewhere in the trees. Letty flinched. Then a volley of three shots in quick succession answered. A whimper tore from her throat.

Rusty planted himself in front of her, legs spread, teeth bared as he faced the direction of the gunfire. Letty unsheathed her knife and listened to the night. Running footsteps echoed faintly from a distance, but the woods eventually swallowed the sound. She prayed those had been Philip’s steps, indicating he was alive and not riddled with bullet holes.

Please, God.

Letty pulled her feet under her and crouched behind Rusty, listening for any clue that might tell her what was happening. The horses shuffled and snorted behind her, spooked by the gunfire. She didn’t blame them. It had spooked her, too.

Hearing no immediate threat, Letty sheathed her knife and rose to her feet. Philip had told her what to do if they were ever assaulted at their campsite. Pack up and remove all evidence of their presence so that anyone who came after wouldn’t be able to track them. Rusty shadowed her as she snatched up the fallen dinner dishes and doused the fire with leftover coffee. Her hands trembled as she rolled up bedrolls and fastened straps, making her stumble over simple tasks.

She stumbled over rocks, too, kicking the fire ring more than once as she scurried around the darkened campsite. As her eyes adjusted to the growing darkness and her panic calmed from a heart-throbbing terror to the slightly less debilitating state of skin-tingling alarm, her movements steadied, allowing her to get the supplies loaded onto the packhorse without dropping the dutch oven more than twice.

Next came saddling the horses. Philip had been spoiling her by taking care of this chore since they began their journey, but she’d been saddling Shadow for years and had no trouble getting her mare ready to ride. Steele proved trickier. Philip’s beautiful gray gelding stood at least a full hand taller than Shadow, increasing the difficulty. Thankfully, he was a well-trained mount and patiently endured her fumbling attempts to swing Philip’s saddle onto his back. Changing her grip on the saddle, she heaved it a third time and managed to swing it into place. She had just finished tightening the cinch when a whine from Rusty had her spinning and reaching for her knife.

A man jogged out of the trees, gun in hand. Rusty made no move to attack, telling Letty everything she needed to know.

“Philip.” His name fell from her lips in a whispered prayer of gratitude.

He was safe.

“Letty?”

“Here.”

He immediately changed direction, and she felt something in her chest shift the moment his gaze found hers in the dark. As he drew near, he holstered his weapon, then reached for her. His hands cupped her upper arms as his gaze roamed her face.

“You’re all right?”

She nodded, her throat too clogged with emotion to push any words through.

“Thank God.” He clasped her to him and hugged her tight.

Her palms roamed his back as she exulted in the feel of him, alive and well. She pressed her face against his chest and reveled in the sound of his pounding heartbeat and ragged breaths. She could have stood there for days, soaking in his strength and his tenderness, but alas, his embrace lasted less than a minute before he set her away from him.

“The shooter got away.” He spat the words out as if they disgusted him. “We have to assume he works for your uncle. If we’re lucky, he’ll be greedy to claim the reward for himself and won’t share information regarding your location, but we can’t count on that. He might be riding for the nearest telegraph right now.”

He glanced around and gave her hand a squeeze. “You did a good job with the camp.” His gray eyes locked on hers, spearing her with urgency. “Take the horses down to the stream. The water’s not deep, but hopefully it will hide our tracks.” He dropped her hand and moved to the packhorse to claim the small spade they carried with their supplies. “I’ll bury the charred remains of the fire and brush away our footprints. Hopefully, if the shooter returns in daylight, he won’t be able to identify this as our campsite and will have a hard time tracking us.”

Letty followed his instructions and led the horses down to the stream. She mounted Shadow, wanting to be ready the instant Philip finished disguising the camp. Yet sitting there in the dark, waiting, wore on her nerves. Was that man even now circling back to take another shot at them? A shiver coursed over her skin.

Someone had tried to kill her. She wrapped her cloak more tightly around her, but it failed to fortify her shattered nerves. Her entire life, she’d lived with the knowledge that her uncle wanted her dead. Yet it had felt more like a scary bedtime story than reality. When she’d been a young girl and nightmares of the fire had tortured her sleep, her grandmother would wake her and tell her it was just a dream. That the flames couldn’t hurt her. That she was safe. Eventually, she came to believe it.

When Philip arrived with her mother’s message, Letty had understood the danger inherent in leaving Grandmother’s cabin. She’d be vulnerable and exposed. Nevertheless, as each day passed without incident, her confidence had grown. Philip and the Lord would protect her. And they had. Even now, she sat atop her mare, whole and unharmed. Yet the crack of that rifle echoed through her mind again and again, blasting holes in her composure. Dealing with the idea of being in danger was much different from experiencing that danger firsthand. Trees that had felt like a welcoming shield a half hour ago now loomed menacingly. Were other riflemen hiding in their depths? She scanned the darkness, searching for possible threats while her stomach churned and her heart pounded.

“Hey.”

Letty flinched and jerked her head toward the voice, only to find Philip standing at her side. She exhaled in relief. Her eyes locked with his, drinking in the reassurance shimmering in the gray depths.

“I checked the perimeter, Letty. No one else is out there. You’re safe.”

For now . He didn’t say the words, but she read them in his eyes. Oddly enough, the raw honesty in his gaze settled her more than a sweeping promise of security could have. She straightened in the saddle and lifted her chin, wanting to at least appear brave.

Philip clasped her boot with his hand, his touch so solid, her pulse began to settle. His eyes peered into hers. “‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.’”

Her pulse calmed another notch as the words from Scripture infused her soul. “Thank you. I needed that reminder.”

His lips lifted at one corner in a self-effacing half smile. “Me too.”

She smiled in return, and a dose of gumption returned. It might be time to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, but she need not fear the evil stalking her, for her Shepherd was with her. Along with her Pinkerton. She’d trust them both to see her through whatever came.

****

Philip’s parents had raised him to be a praying man, but he couldn’t recall a night he’d ever prayed more than the one they’d just passed. They’d traveled downstream about half a mile before finally emerging onto more solid ground. Forced to set an excruciatingly slow pace due to the dark conditions, Philip kept them marching forward for two hours. He struck a match every now and then to check his compass, then immediately extinguished the tiny flame as soon as he’d confirmed his direction.

They set up a rudimentary camp with no fire and grabbed a few hours’ sleep. Well, Letty had slept. Philip kept watch, a rifle in his lap and a prayer on his heart.

Someone had tracked them. Had gotten close enough to recognize Letty and take a shot. Philip stared into the predawn sky, his jaw clenched. He could have lost her. Had he spotted that rifle barrel one second later, he might be making the rest of this trip with a corpse slung over Shadow’s back. Thank God, the Lord had opened his eyes at just the right moment.

His attention shifted to Letty’s bedroll, where she lay snuggled next to Rusty for warmth and, no doubt, a bit of security and comfort. His heart softened as he watched her sleep. She’d been through so much, and it was only going to get worse over the next few days.

You promised to be our help in times of trouble , Lord. Well , we’re in a heap of trouble now and likely will be for a while. We need you. Watch over us and lead us to safety. Please. That girl means the world to me , Lord , and I know you love her even more than I do. I trust you to do what is best . But if you’re open to suggestions , I ask that you prioritize her life over mine. If only one of us can escape this gauntlet, let it be her.

As the eastern horizon lightened, Philip stood and laid a hand on Letty’s shoulder. She rolled toward him, her lashes slowly lifting.

“Time to get up, sweetheart.” The endearment slipped out without thought. Yet the smile it evoked made him glad he’d been too distracted by the journey ahead to watch his words. She needed more reasons to smile.

Rusty stretched next to her, his jaw dropping in a yawn before he gave himself a shake and padded down to the stream where the horses dozed on four legs.

It wouldn’t take long to pack up the camp. They’d gone without a fire, so breakfast would consist of jerky and cold water. After his sleepless night, Philip would miss the coffee, but the potential threat of discovery by Radcliffe’s men promised to keep him alert.

“Did you sleep any?” Her long auburn braid fell over her shoulder as she peered up into his face, concern etching lines across her forehead.

“I rested.” He smiled, but she didn’t seem appeased by his nonchalance. So to stave off any more questions in that direction, he steered the conversation to more practical matters. “I don’t want you to wear your hood today.”

The red cloak had served as a blanket of sorts for her last night, and she reached down to where it had pooled atop her bedroll and drew it up against her front like a shield. “Why not?”

He remembered the story her mother had told him about how Letty had felt safe in her little cape and hood when she’d escaped the fire as a child. He suspected she hadn’t completely outgrown that attachment, but he needed her to understand that the very thing that made her feel safe might be what attracted danger.

“I’m not sure how last night’s shooter found us, but if he’s been watching us for any length of time, he would have noticed your hood. He might have reported that detail back to your uncle. While the hood shields your face, it’s also very memorable. Rusty stands out as well, but I can’t really do anything to disguise him, so disguising you will have to do. If they are looking for a young woman in a red cloak, we’ll need to turn you into a young boy in a flannel shirt.” He took his hat off and dropped it onto her head. “It won’t fool anyone up close, but if you tuck your hair up into my hat and wear the spare shirt I’ve got in my saddlebag, it might suit our purposes from a distance.”

Her fingers trembled a bit as she let go of the cloak and reached up to straighten the hat on her head. “I guess I should have kept those rag-bin trousers from the bunkhouse.”

Oh, how he wanted to take her in his arms. To hold her until the fear dissolved from her eyes.

“Lord willing, it will only be for two days,” he said instead. “We’ll make Huffman by late afternoon. I’ll stop in town long enough to wire your mother’s brother. He’ll have a closed carriage waiting for us at an old stagecoach stop a few miles northeast of Houston. The carriage will protect your identity from there into the city, and then you’ll finally be reunited with your mother.”

He thought to give her something positive to cling to so was surprised when the lines in her forehead deepened. “What about you? Where will you be?”

“Nearby. I promise.” Likely surveilling Drake Radcliffe. “I’ll not leave until I’m sure you’re safe.”

“But you will leave. Won’t you?”

Philip sighed. This was a bigger conversation than they had time for, but he’d not dismiss her question. She deserved honesty from him, even if he could make no promises.

“I care about you, Letty. A lot. But I can’t let myself get distracted by thoughts of a future we may or may not share when there’s so much at stake in the here and now. Once things are settled, we will discuss the future. I promise.”

And, Lord willing, she’d not hate him for what he had to say.