Page 28 of Cloaked in Beauty

Once everything had been cleared from the table, Letty pumped water into the tin dishpan, then added hot water from the kettle along with some shaved soap. As she lowered the stack of plates into the tub and reached for her dishrag, she felt Philip pass behind her, his large frame barely squeezing between her and the table.

Goodness! Had the kitchen always been this small? She pressed her belly against the side of the sink as heat flushed her cheeks. Not wanting their visitor to guess the cause, she leaned over the dishpan, hoping he’d attribute whatever color was blooming in her face to the steamy water.

The Pinkerton snatched the dish towel off the rack and stood ready to dry, though he angled his body so he could see both the sink and the table. Thankfully, such a position kept him a good foot or two away from her, thereby allowing her breathing and cheek temperature to return to normal.

Just focus on the dishes. Pretend you’re handing them off to Grandmother.

Keeping her head down, she passed along the first clean plate.

“I delivered your letter to Mr. Darby.” Philip’s rich, deep-toned voice filled the space and obliterated any pretense of him being a small elderly woman. “He promised to fetch you after the last train runs this afternoon. Will you be all right on your own here until then? I can hitch up your wagon and deliver you myself before Miss Hood and I depart, if you wish.”

Letty’s scrubbing slowed. He would do that?

An odd sensation beset her midsection. A warm melty feeling, not unlike the one she’d experienced when she’d first found Rusty, lost or abandoned by his pack. The puppy’s dark eyes, adorable face, and fuzzy fur had won her over on sight, sparking an instant affinity that had grown into a devoted friendship.

She cast a sideways glance at Philip Carmichael. Nothing about the man said cute or adorable. His lean frame and angular face brought to mind descriptors like strapping and capable. Yet beneath the commanding exterior lay a patient, thoughtful heart—one possessing the same power to evoke melty middles as a pair of puppy eyes.

“There’s no need for you to delay your trip on my account, young man.” Grandmother batted away Philip’s offer with a wave of her hand and reminded Letty to get back to the dishes in the process. “I might be a bit peaked after my spell, but I’m no invalid. I’ll make do just fine.”

As if to prove her point, she rose from her chair and tottered over to where Philip stood, dish towel in hand. She grabbed hold of his arm and craned her neck back in order to shoot a stern look directly into his eyes.

“Taking care of my granddaughter is your first and only concern from this moment on. Do we understand each other?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Then give me that dish towel and take her out of here before the day’s half-gone.”

Letty turned back to the gravy boat she’d just dropped into the dishpan and scrubbed with renewed vigor. “I can have these done in just a few minutes. I don’t want you wearing yourself out.”

“Young lady, put down that dishrag this minute and dry your hands. I’ll not have you arguing with me and ruining our farewell.”

She wanted to argue for the sake of her grandmother’s health, but the idea of parting on less-than-affectionate terms had her pulling her hands from the dishwater.

Grandmother met her by the sink and wrapped her into an embrace filled with so much love, Letty’s heart nearly burst from trying to contain it. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from starting up again and forced herself to breathe as they slowly separated.

“It’s time for you to go, Letty girl.” Grandmother stroked her hair and tucked a stray wisp behind her ear. “I’ll be waiting for your telegram.”

Letty’s shoulders straightened at the reminder of their promised reunion. “I’ll send for you as soon as it’s safe.”

Grandmother smiled, her eyes moist. “I know you will.” She lifted her chin and patted Letty’s arm. “Go on with you, now.”

Letty nodded, reaching behind her back to untie her apron strings. By the time she had the apron off, Philip had put on his hat and opened the front door. The gentle autumn breeze that blew into the cabin hit her like an artic blast of reality.

She was really leaving—leaving everything familiar and beloved behind. But that was the cost of adventure. One must leave the comfortable to experience the remarkable.

“‘Be strong and of a good courage.’” The familiar Bible verse fell from her grandmother’s lips with conviction, infusing Letty’s spirit with renewed boldness. “‘Be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.’”

Letty leaned in for one last quick hug, then grabbed her cape from the hook by the door and ran outside before sorrow could regain its hold on her. She didn’t even stop to pet Rusty. Just strode straight to her mare and mounted. Shadow must have sensed her scattered emotions for she tossed her head and sidestepped. Letty leaned forward and patted the horse’s neck.

“It’s all right, girl. I’m a bit of a mess at the moment, but a good ride will put us both to rights, won’t it? I’m afraid we won’t be galloping this morning, but what we’ll miss in speed, we’ll more than make up for in distance. We’ll get into a routine, and everything will settle. You’ll see.”

Hopefully.

By the time she straightened in the saddle, Philip had collected the packhorse’s lead line and mounted his gray. Rusty moved to investigate, and the little bay balked.

“Rusty! Come!” They didn’t need Philip changing his mind about Rusty’s welcome on this journey.

Thankfully, her wolf obeyed, padding over to take up his usual spot by Shadow’s front legs.