Page 27 of Cloaked in Beauty

“Give him a chance, Philip.” Her voice echoed softly between them, but the use of his name crashed into his chest as if she’d launched it from a catapult. “He can aid your cause if you let him. He can hear things from a greater distance than we can. He can see better in the dark and can sense when danger approaches, whether human or animal. He’s an asset, not a liability.”

Philip rubbed the spot on his chest that would have been sore had she volleyed with more than words. As loath as he was to admit it, she had a point. A wolf’s senses were keener than a man’s. But he still didn’t like the idea of throwing another variable into an already complicated mix.

“What are you going to do with him when you get to Houston?” Philip fired the only ammunition left in his proverbial gun. “The city’s no place for a wolf. No place for him to roam or hunt. Only brick streets and buildings all around. Not to mention hundreds of people. None of whom would welcome such an animal in their midst. He’d be miserable.”

She took Rusty’s face in her hands and pressed her forehead against his. “We’ll figure it out.” Her voice sounded small. Uncertain. Made him feel more like a bully than her protector.

Shoot. He’d liked it better when she was calling him a mercenary fool.

“I don’t have to stay in the city,” she said. “Grandmother still owns a house outside of town where we can stay. Or I can find some acreage and build a place of my own. What good is being an heiress if I can’t share a home with my best friend?”

The wolf licked her face, which led to her clasping the beast around his neck, her hold a bit desperate in nature. Letty stayed that way for a heartbeat or two, then seemed to gather herself and loosened her grip on her pet. After giving Rusty a final rub, she straightened and turned her attention to Philip.

Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, yet her voice didn’t wobble as she made her final petition. “Please let him come.”

He tried to harden his heart to her plea. He really did. But the mudslide had already started down the canyon wall, and there was no stopping it.

“Fine,” he groused, crossing his arms with a grunt. “But if he scares off my packhorse, I’m strapping the supplies to that mangy hide of his.”

She beamed a smile at him that nearly knocked him out of his boots, then went a step further and laid a hand on his arm. “Thank you! You won’t be sorry. I promise.”

He was already sorry.

Trouble was, he was too happy to see her smiling again to care.

12

Letty had never eaten breakfast so slowly in her life. Usually she gobbled down her food, in a hurry to finish her chores so she could scamper off on a new adventure with Rusty. Adventure definitely awaited her at the end of this meal, but so did an alarming amount of change. The kind that eradicated everything that was comfortable and familiar, burning the bridge to home so she could never return.

She pushed the last bit of scrambled egg around on her plate, unwilling to capture it with her fork just yet. After today, home would mean something completely different. A new place. New people. New responsibilities. She prayed it would come with new happiness as well, but peering into the dark abyss of the unknown left her feeling ill-prepared and inadequate.

A hand closed over hers. Letty’s head swiveled to take in her Grandmother’s compassionate gaze and sweet smile. “God’s already seen your future, child.” Her words were low, meant for Letty’s ears alone, though they swelled inside Letty’s heart like a yeasted dough threatening to spill out of its pan. “Nothing you’re about to encounter is a surprise to him. You might not be able to see past this moment, but he can. Trust him to lead you and stand by your side through every danger and uncertainty you face. You’re not alone, Letty. You’re never alone.”

Uncaring that she was about to subject a rugged Pinkerton agent to an uncomfortable emotional outburst, Letty jumped from her seat and crouched by her grandmother’s chair. With tears spilling over the brims of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around Grandmother’s waist and laid her head in her lap as she had when she’d been a small girl.

“I love you.” Her voice cracked as quiet sobs choked out any other spoken sentiments.

Her grandmother’s hand came to rest on top of her head, and Letty swore she could feel love pass through those fingertips into her entire body.

“I love you, too, sweet girl. And I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become. Your kind heart and courageous spirit will serve you well in the days ahead, but it’s your faith that will sustain you.” Her hand moved to cup Letty’s cheek, and she gently urged her face upward. “There’s no problem bigger than our God. Remember that.”

Letty nodded, her heart squeezing as she noted the tear tracks staining her grandmother’s cheeks. She’d never wanted to be the source of this dear woman’s distress, but in this moment, she needed that visual evidence of affection, to know beyond all doubt that she was loved in spite of all her fears and inadequacies.

“Now, wipe those eyes,” Grandmother ordered with a sniff of her own and a moment of heavy blinking. “You’ve got a journey to embark upon, and postponing isn’t going to make leaving any easier.”

She was right, of course. But as Letty rubbed her eyes with the edge of her apron, it occurred to her that Grandmother’s wisdom in this case stemmed directly from personal experience. Fifteen years ago, she’d left her children and her home to fulfill a purpose thrust upon her by circumstances beyond her control. Never once had she looked back or bemoaned her lot. She’d not focused on what she’d lost, but on the blessings surrounding her every day, and by doing so, she created a home brimming with love.

The time had come for Letty to do the same.

Once she had her face dried and her nose wiped, she chanced a look at her escort as she pushed in her chair and reached for her plate.

Philip Carmichael studied his coffee with all the diligence of a prospector checking his pan for gold flakes. Poor man probably regretted that second helping of biscuits and gravy. If he hadn’t been delayed by the food, he might have escaped the cabin before the waterworks began. He no doubt thought her a weepy female now. The sort who would fall apart at the least provocation. She sighed softly as she stacked the other plates on top of her own and headed for the sink.

Hopefully, she’d have the chance to correct his early impression of her before they reached Houston. His opinion of her shouldn’t matter, but it did. Maybe because he was the first person she’d be spending significant time with outside of her grandmother for more than a decade. Or maybe it was because he’d proven himself to be both reasonable and kind in his dealings with her, earning her good opinion.

“Here. Let me help.” Philip pushed back his chair and reached for the biscuit basket, then stacked the meat platter, egg dish, and gravy bowl atop it, all while keeping his coffee mug hooked over his index finger.

Add another tally mark to the good-opinion column. A man undaunted by helping with the dishes. A rare breed, according to Grandmother. Of course, he might just be trying to hurry them along, but even if that was his goal, he’d chosen a rather chivalrous way to go about it.