Page 26 of Cloaked in Beauty

“I see you have your mount ready.” He nodded toward the mare. “She looks like a sound horse. Do you ride regularly?”

“Every morning.” A bit of the strain left her face as her gaze slid from him to her horse. “She and I both love a good gallop.”

“Nothing quite as exhilarating as flying over the earth on the back of a horse. Freedom at its finest.”

Her hazel eyes found his. “Indeed.”

What was going on in that pretty head of hers? The way she looked at him made him feel as if he was a mystery she was trying to sort out. For the life of him, he couldn’t say what was so mysterious about him agreeing on the benefits of a good gallop, but then he’d never been one to claim an understanding of the female mind.

She gave her head a barely perceptible shake, one he would have missed had he not been studying her so closely. Then she brightened and swept an arm toward the house in invitation.

“Come on inside. Grandmother insisted we kill the fatted calf for our last shared meal together. We’ve got eggs, bacon, a fresh batch of buttermilk biscuits, and a pan full of sausage gravy waiting for you. Hope you came hungry.”

“That I did, ma’am.” His mouth had started watering the minute she opened the door and released the smell of fried bacon and skillet sausage into the world.

She paused, and her brow wrinkled slightly. “You’re not planning to call me ma’am the whole time we’re traveling together, are you?”

He had been, actually. Ma’am or Miss Hood. Formality seemed a worthy scheme for fortifying his defenses against the intimacy that naturally sprang up between two people forced to share each other’s company for an extended length of time.

“I’d much prefer that you call me Letty. I know it’s not completely proper given our short acquaintance, but I . . .” Her gaze fell to the ground, and her fingers fiddled with her apron strings. “I’m not ready to become Scarlett Radcliffe again. Not yet.” She lifted her chin, and the vulnerability shining in eyes that suddenly looked more green than brown hit him square in the chest. “When I arrive in Houston, I’ll be surrounded by formality and rules and . . . expectations. Everyone there has an idea of who I should be and what I should do. I have a role to play, and when the time comes, I intend to play it to the best of my ability. But until then, I want to hold on to my true self as long as possible. To delight in the comfort of a familiar skin before I’m forced to shed it and become someone new.” The passion in her eyes dimmed as she nibbled on her lower lip and dropped her gaze to somewhere around his navel. “I’m sure this sounds silly to a man like you. You probably slip skins on and off with the ease of pulling on a fresh shirt in the morning, becoming whoever you need to be to accomplish the detective work you’ve been assigned.”

She’d be surprised at precisely how not silly he found her confession. He’d worked a few undercover cases early in his career, and while he’d enjoyed the challenge and intrigue of pretending to be someone he wasn’t, he’d never gotten used to the dishonesty inherent in such jobs. Putting on that particular skin left a rash on his soul that itched to high heaven. The irritation lessened once he began avoiding those types of investigations, but he remembered all too well the toll of being inauthentic.

“I don’t think you silly at all.” Philip waited for her lashes to lift. “In fact, I admire your candor. Bodes well for our upcoming excursion.” He held her gaze, debated with himself for a moment, then decided to return her candidness with a little plain speaking of his own. “Out on the trail, I’m going to do my best to steer us clear of danger, but we’re bound to face trouble now and again. When that happens, survival will require that we rely on each other. Trust grows stronger when it’s planted in honesty, so if my calling you Letty makes it easier for you to be your true self, then that’s what I’ll do.” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “’Course, that means you’ll have to call me Philip. In the spirit of fairness.”

A smile stole its way onto her face and lit her eyes in a way that set his pulse to thumping a little harder than usual. “Well, I do appreciate fairness.”

“I thought you might.”

Criminy. Was he flirting?

Get your head on straight, man. Sure, the job will be easier if you get along with the girl, but it’ll be a whole lot harder if you start falling for her.

Rescue came from an unexpected source. Rusty padded over and inserted himself between the two of them, pressing hard enough against Miss Hood’s—Letty’s—legs to force her back a step.

Philip frowned. “Maybe I should take my animals to the barn. I trust my gray to hold his ground as long as your wolf doesn’t directly threaten him, but I’m not sure how the new packhorse will react.”

“You can take them to the barn if you like,” Letty said as she idly stroked Rusty’s fur, “but it might be good for them to start getting used to each other.”

“Why’s that?” Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

“Because Rusty’s coming with us.”

The woman might not be silly, but she was definitely lacking common sense. Why risk taking a wild animal on a mission that required stealth and anonymity? Had she forgotten that they were going to end up in Houston—one of the largest cities in Texas? What was Rusty supposed to do there? Don Grandma’s nightgown and lay in bed all day hoping no one noticed the oversized snout and carnivorous teeth?

He said none of this aloud, but some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, for Letty’s lips pressed together in a thin line.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” For more reasons than he cared to enumerate, but he chose to focus on the top three. “The goal is to avoid attention. If anyone spots a pair of travelers accompanied by a wolf, it’s going to stand out in their minds. They’ll likely remark upon it to others.”

“Should they hear the tale, there’s no reason for my uncle’s men to assume that I’m the woman traveling with a wolf. A renowned Pinkerton detective would never allow such foolishness, after all.”

“I never said it was foolish.”

The look she aimed at him made it all too clear that one need not vocalize a sentiment to express it.

“Look.” He blew out a breath. “Wild animals are unpredictable. Even well-trained ones. If I’m going to protect you, I need to be able to analyze situations in an instant and accurately predict outcomes. Having a wild card thrown into the mix makes my job harder, which leaves you more vulnerable.”

“If you think I’m more vulnerable with Rusty than without him, you’re the fool.” Her eyes darkened to a swampy green that warned of man-eating bogs and hidden gators. “His loyalty doesn’t stem from a promised payday; it runs in his blood. He’s been faithful to me for seven years. I’ve barely known you for two days. You talked about trust. Well, I trust Rusty.” She bent down and hugged the gloating animal’s neck.