Page 18 of Cloaked in Beauty

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?”