Chapter 7

7

Keeping her hood pulled low over her face, Letty scurried away from the depot. She ducked behind a vacant factory building and ran until she reached the protection of the trees. Slowing only slightly, she wove through the pines until she reached the place where she’d tethered Shadow, a position deep enough into the woods to ensure she’d not be visible from town.

Her feet finally stopped, but her pulse refused to slow. Pressing a hand to her chest, she leaned against the trunk of a tree and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d done it! She’d found Mr. Darby. Thank the Lord there’d been no train at the station. Passengers on the platform would have complicated matters, spawning questions and creating potential witnesses. As it was, she’d had to wait on a man to finish sending a telegram, but she’d managed to stay hidden until he left. She’d avoided the main waiting room and, instead, slipped around to the freight entrance. Creeping in from the rear, she’d hidden between luggage carts and stacks of crates until it was safe to emerge.

Mr. Darby had recognized her at once. Probably from the photographs Grandmother had given him to smuggle to her mother over the years. His eyebrows had arched into his hat brim, and he’d immediately flipped the Closed sign over his window and exited the ticket office. He’d ushered her into a storage room of some sort and closed the door behind them. She’d reached for her knife, the suddenness of being trapped in a room with a man she didn’t know instigating a moment of panic, but his eyes radiated only concern when he turned to face her.

“It’s Flora, isn’t it? What happened? Is she alive?”

It had taken all her fortitude not to fall apart during her explanation. Thankfully, Mr. Darby hadn’t pressed for too many details. He’d confirmed Grandmother’s location, her symptoms, and her condition from when Letty had last seen her, then ushered Letty out of the station through a side door, promising to fetch the doctor.

Slumping against the tree at her back, Letty wrapped her arms around her midsection and dipped her chin to her chest. She’d done everything in her power to help her grandmother. The rest was out of her control.

Please, Lord, don’t let Grandmother die.

Her heart squeezed at the thought of being left alone. No one to talk to. No one to laugh with. No one who would take her by the hand and offer assurances that she could handle whatever trouble awaited her return home.

A tear moistened her lashes, but Letty clenched her jaw and brushed the offending droplet away with a swipe of her thumb. This wasn’t the time to mourn. This was the time to fight. The time to heal. And the time to trust the One who held life in the palm of his hand.

Pushing away from the tree, Letty sniffed to clear away the last of her self-pity, then mounted Shadow and set her eyes on the path ahead. She nudged her mare into a gentle lope and headed for home, careful to conceal herself in the trees along the way.

She made it to the cabin without incident and immediately went inside to check on her grandmother. Rusty lifted his head at her entrance, then padded over and wiggled his head under her hand as if seeking consolation. She gave it gladly, crouching down to hug his neck and rub his fur.

“How is she, boy?” Her voice cracked a bit as she forced herself to rise and approach the bed.

Rusty whined softly but stayed glued to her side, his steadfastness a balm to her bruised spirit. Letty’s hand quivered as she reached for her grandmother’s shoulder. She kept her touch featherlight, not wanting to disturb, just wanting to ensure the woman still lived. Grandmother lay on her side, curled into a ball, face half-hidden beneath the covers. It was nearly impossible to make out any rise and fall of her chest. But when Letty’s hand settled softly atop the blanket, Grandmother stirred slightly, and the breath Letty had been holding whooshed out in a burst of gratitude.

Thank you, God!

“Letty?” A gravelly voice that sounded nothing like her feisty grandmother rattled in the stillness of the room a moment before her eyes fluttered open.

“I’m here.” Letty sat on the edge of the mattress and clasped the hand that had shown her how to knead bread, sew a straight seam, and skin a rabbit. The limpness in those capable fingers made her chest ache.

Fighting back tears, she forced a smile to her face. “I found Mr. Darby at the depot. He’s fetching a doctor and will be here soon.”

Grandmother tried to wag her head, but Letty cut off her objection before she could speak it. “I was careful. I promise. No one saw me. And no one will see me out here, either. I’ll hide in the trees while the doctor is tending you. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Take photo ... from ... mantel.”

“I will.” Letty squeezed her hand. “You rest now. I’ll take care of everything.” Only fair since Grandmother had been taking care of everything for the past fifteen years.

“Be ... careful.”

Letty smiled. “Always.”

Grandmother’s eyelids drooped closed again, and Letty bent to drop a kiss onto her silver hair. “I love you.”

Knowing she didn’t have much time before Mr. Darby and the doctor arrived, Letty hurried through the cabin, hiding anything that might hint at her existence. She stuffed her mother’s wedding photo into the chest at the end of their bed and cleaned up the spilled peas, so no one need wonder how Grandmother got herself into bed, then unsaddled Shadow, gave her a quick brush, and turned her out into the paddock. Finally, she called to Rusty and disappeared with him into the trees. The moment the doctor left, she’d return to Grandmother’s side. Hopefully, Mr. Darby would be clever enough to jot down some notes and leave them where she could find them, so she’d know what kind of care to administer.

It took a few minutes to find a vantage point that offered a clear view of the cabin through the trees, but she managed to secure a position that would hide her well enough while letting her keep an eye on things at the same time. She settled herself on an exposed root and leaned back against the trunk behind her. Barely five minutes passed before a wagon rolled into view.

A growl rumbled in Rusty’s throat, but Letty wrapped her arm around his neck and urged him to stay.

“Easy. They’re here to help.”

Tension radiated through the wolf, but he obeyed her command, sitting on his haunches at Letty’s side.

“Good boy.” She loosened her grip, holding him more for comfort now than restraint.

Mr. Darby pulled his team to a halt and hopped off the wagon before the doctor could gather his medical bag. Darby scuttled toward the house, calling out in a loud voice, “Iris? It’s Stewart. I’m coming in.” Despite the dramatic announcement, he took his time opening the front door.

Letty’s heart warmed. The warning had been for her, not for Grandmother. He was giving her plenty of time to hide or scurry out the back door in case his arrival had trapped her in the house. Grandmother had been right about him. Loyal to the core.

She wished she could have had the chance to get to know him before their frantic meeting today. He seemed like a man worth knowing. Maybe once she was free of her uncle’s threats, she could come back to Queen City and thank him for all his help. Perhaps meet his family. Grandmother said he and his wife had three children and eight grandchildren, the latter of which ranged in age from four to sixteen. How she’d love to meet them. Maybe even develop the kind of sibling-esque relationship with them that Grandmother enjoyed with Mr. Darby.

As she watched the station agent and the doctor disappear into the cabin, Letty encouraged her mind to linger on the stories Grandmother had told about Stewart and his older sister Amelia, in hopes that the memories would distract her from worrying about what the doctor might be discovering about his newest patient.

Like the time Stewart chased a rabbit under a fence and into the domain of the prize bull of Red River County. Grandmother said her heart froze on the spot when she spied her best friend’s little brother staring down a thousand-pound longhorn less than twenty yards away.

Amelia had been too panicked to think clearly and had run off to fetch her father. Flora stayed behind, talking to Stewart, and trying to keep him calm as she positioned herself to draw the bull’s attention. She’d circled to a spot on the bull’s left, climbed the fence, and entered the pen. She waved her arms, yelled, and even threw a rock at the bull’s flank before she finally got him to look her way. When the bull charged, she screamed at Stewart to run, then sprinted back the way she’d come. Grandmother had a thin scar on her calf where one of the bull’s horns had caught her as she ducked between the fence rails.

Facing that bull together had forged a bond between Flora and Stewart, one that still existed half a century later. As much as Letty wanted to be at her grandmother’s side, she knew she could trust Mr. Darby to be there in her stead. To protect her as Grandmother had once protected him.

Even so, waiting still proved dreadfully difficult. She wanted to be helping, not hiding. Yet hiding was exactly what Grandmother would wish her to do. That fact eased the guilt somewhat but did little to mitigate her worry.

Heal her, Lord. Please. I’m not ready to say good-bye. I need—

Rusty’s head came up, jerking Letty out of her prayer. The wolf scrambled to his feet, pulling away from her arm. His throat rumbled a low warning as he took a step, not toward the cabin but deeper into the woods behind them.

“What is it?” Letty rose slowly and reached for the knife at her waist, pulling it from its sheath and gripping the hilt. “Do you hear something?”

She peered into the trees, searching for anything that didn’t belong. Whatever was out there had sense enough to approach from the downwind side, hiding its scent from Rusty. It could be a small predator raising Rusty’s hackles—a skunk or a bobcat. Yet instinct insisted she not dismiss the warning. The predator stalking her could very well walk on two legs, not four.

Running for the shelter of the house wasn’t an option this time, which meant she could either run deeper into the woods and hope she was fleeter of foot than whomever waited in the trees, or she could make her stand here.

Not wanting to leave her grandmother, she braced her feet apart and tightened her grip on her knife. “Show yourself! I know you’re out there.”

But she really hoped she was wrong. The skunk option sounded better by the second.

A movement caught her eye to her left. One that revealed a creature far too tall to be a skunk.

A man stepped out from behind a tree, his hands raised. He looked nothing like the loggers she’d encountered. He wore dark-brown trousers with a tan vest and a buckskin coat. A wide-brimmed planter-style hat sat on his head, covering hair too short to show beneath the brim. He wore a gun, but his upraised hands indicated he had no immediate plans to use it.

She lifted her chin. “This is private property. You need to leave.”

His gaze shifted down to Rusty before climbing back to her face. “I mean you no harm, miss. And if you still want me to leave after you read the letter I brought you, I will.”

Letter? No one knew she was here. It had to be a trick.

“It’s in my pocket. Is it all right if I reach for it?” He pointed a finger toward the opening of his coat.

“Stop!” She stepped toward him, holding her knife in front of her. Rusty snarled.

The man slowly moved his hand back to the upright position, his gaze returning to the wolf. “All right. No reaching. Got it.”

He waited for Rusty to stop snarling before he chanced looking at her again. His eyes were light in color, though from this distance she couldn’t make out much more than that.

“How about if I grab my lapel and open my coat so that you can see there’s no weapon hidden inside? You can fetch the letter yourself if you want.”

She wasn’t going anywhere near him. If she got too close, he could knock her knife away and snatch her straight off her feet. Rusty would attack, of course, but he’d be no match for a pistol.

Letty shook her head. “If you truly mean me no harm, you’ll forget you ever saw me and leave this place.”

She expected an argument or at the very least a scowl. What she got, however, was a smile. A rather handsome one, at that.

“You’re smart,” he said. “And cautious. That’s good.”

She narrowed her eyes, not wanting him to guess the delight she experienced at his compliment. “You’re slow to follow instructions. That’s bad.”

His grin widened. “All right. I’ll head out. I left my horse by a fallen log just south of here. I’m guessing you’re familiar enough with the area to know the place I mean. I’ll leave my coat on that log. Once I’m far enough away that you feel comfortable, you can dig out the letter and decide for yourself whether or not I can be trusted. I’ll return tomorrow. If my coat’s where I left it, I’ll know I’m not welcome. If it’s not, I’ll assume it’s safe for me to come calling at the house. Sound good?”

“The heading-out part sounded good. Let’s focus on that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He dipped his chin and touched the brim of his hat, then finally started moving his feet.

He kept his hands raised for the first twenty steps or so, as if she had a gun trained on his back, then finally disappeared into the forest. Knowing precisely where the fallen tree lay, she jogged through the trees on a path parallel to the one he would take and spied on him.

Sure enough, he took off his buckskin coat and draped it over the log before mounting a waiting horse—a beautiful gray with a black mane and tail. The stranger didn’t search the trees for signs of her, just rode away without a backward glance.

Her gaze returned to the coat as curiosity swelled in her breast. Letter or no letter, she really ought to learn what she could about the man. He could be the greatest danger she’d faced since the fire in Houston.