Page 31 of Cloaked in Beauty

“You’re a great storyteller.”

Letty dipped her chin before shyly meeting his gaze. “Grandmother’s the storyteller. I’m just repeating what she told me.”

“Somehow I doubt your grandmother spun the yarn with quite the same flair.”

She shrugged, a splash of pink staining her cheeks. “I might have added a few of my own embellishments and taken a stylistic liberty or two.”

“Well, I enjoyed your version.”

“Thank you.” She turned her gaze back toward the fire, and her expression grew introspective. “I think I needed to tell it tonight. To remember not just my father but my mother as well. I know she sent me away to protect me, but every now and then I still feel the sting of abandonment. It was good for me to remember how happy we were together. It makes it easier to believe she hasn’t forgotten about me.”

“She hasn’t.” Philip reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, wanting to offer some sort of comfort, but then he thought better of it and pressed his palm onto the log instead. “I saw her face, Letty. Heard the love in her voice as she spoke of you. I’d bet a year’s wages that not one day has gone by that she hasn’t thought of you.”

And if he had to take on the dragon himself, he’d do it to give Letty and her mother the happy ending they deserved.

14

Early afternoon sunshine warmed Letty’s back as she rocked in the saddle along a barely discernible path. Her gaze skimmed over Philip’s back as he led them through the pines on a trail that seemed more suited to wild game than humans. She had no idea where they were, but she trusted her guide. Over the last three days, Philip had proven to have an excellent sense of direction. He left her side only rarely, usually to scout out landmarks or figure out precisely how close they were to a road or settlement. He always made sure Rusty was nearby and charged her wolf with protecting her in his absence. Letty smiled, sliding her focus from Philip down to Rusty, who trotted along at his side.

Neither man nor beast would likely admit it, but respect was growing between the two. Maybe because Philip had started slipping Rusty scraps from his dinner plate instead of eating every bite himself. Inroads might have been made from the other direction when Rusty proved he could hunt for more than just himself by dropping a rabbit at Letty’s feet two nights ago. Letty had praised his efforts even as she tried not to look at the carcass covered in fluffy bunny fur. Philip had commended him, too, and she’d sworn Rusty had preened at the manly acknowledgment. Not that Letty could cast any stones. She tended to preen herself whenever their guide praised her efforts, whether the compliment pertained to her cooking, her help at camp, or an observation made in conversation that he considered insightful or humorous. She found the latter particularly uplifting, though she did her best to hide her pleasure.

Having only ever conversed with Grandmother, Letty had doubted her ability to hold her own in social discourse. Philip Carmichael carried none of the entitled snobbishness Grandmother had warned she’d encounter among some of Houston’s elite, but she’d found him to be intelligent and well-read. Not to mention brimming with worldly experience. How naïve he must find her. Yet he never made her feel inferior. He listened to her stories with interest, sought her opinion on camp matters, and even shared some of his own history with her in the evenings when they sat around the fire. He treated her as a friend, not an obligation.

Mother had chosen well when she’d hired Philip Carmichael as Letty’s escort. Maybe too well. Saying good-bye to this man after his duty was discharged was going to hurt. She’d grown rather . . . accustomed to his company. All right. Maybe more than accustomed. Fond of his company might be a more truthful description.

It wasn’t that he was particularly charming or accommodating. Nothing like the princely heroes from the stories she’d read as a young girl. He was far too focused on scouring their surroundings for signs of danger to be overly solicitous, though he did seem to know when she began to tire at the end of each day. He’d stopped asking her how she fared because she always assured him she was fine. Wouldn’t do for him to think her weak, and she certainly didn’t want to be responsible for slowing them down. So instead of asking, he used those Pinkerton skills of his to deduce when she was growing weary. Even though she made a point not to slump in the saddle or sigh loud enough to be heard, he still managed to ferret out her true condition. His perception might have been unnerving had she not been so grateful for him calling a halt each time he employed it.

He didn’t coddle her, though. He expected her to pull her own weight, not only at camp but on the trail as well. A fact she appreciated far more than she would have appreciated being cosseted like some kind of porcelain doll. She’d much rather be seen as capable than delicate. She’d told Philip she wanted to be treated as an equal, and his agreement had proven to be more than simple appeasement. Under his tutelage, she found her confidence in navigating an unknown world growing. He’d given her full charge of their supplies, trusted her to tend the packhorse when he took one of his scouting excursions, and even depended on her to keep an eye on what he called their back trail.

Recalling her duty, she reined Shadow around to face the way they’d come. Letty scanned the path, peered into the trees, and listened for anything that might hint at an approaching rider, just like Philip had taught her. Seeing and hearing nothing out of the ordinary, she brought Shadow’s head around again, then nudged her into a trot to close the distance her slowdown had opened between her and the rest of their party.

“Anything to report?” Philip twisted in his saddle to meet her gaze.

“All clear.”

He nodded, and a hint of a smile added light to his eyes. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He faced forward again, and she tried not to be disappointed in the brevity of the interaction. Unlike at the campsite, Philip preferred to keep talking to a minimum on the trail. In forested terrain, one could often hear danger before he could see it, so the less noise they generated as they traveled, the better he could keep an ear out for trouble. It was a sensible strategy. One engaged for her protection. Yet it made for a rather dull journey.

Philip swiveled a second time. “We’re making good time today. Should reach Church Hill in a few hours.”

He’d shown her his map last night and pointed out a few possible stopping places, all in Rusk County. Church Hill had been the most centralized location not near a railroad and Philip’s first choice. The town consisted of a church, a school, and a general store. Not much else. Made it easy to pass through the area unnoticed.

“I’m glad.” Letty clicked her tongue, urging her mare to increase her pace just enough to draw alongside Philip’s horse. If the man was in a chatty mood, she intended to take full advantage. “I remember you saying you’d like to have time to do some hunting.”

He smiled at her in such a way that her belly did an unexpected somersault. “I might take you fishing instead. Find us a little stream coming off the Sabine. I packed some line and a few hooks. Nothing better than frying up fresh-caught fish for supper.”

Goodness. Had she just categorized him as not charming? She might need to revisit that assessment. While there was nothing remotely charming about dead fish, the eagerness in his gaze had her picturing him as a boy, eschewing his studies and dashing off to the nearest fishing hole. A vision that charmed her to her toes. She’d never much cared for fishing, but she suddenly found the idea quite attractive. Or maybe it was the man she found attractive.

“That sounds delightful. I’m not much of a fisherwoman, but I’m game to try.”

Philip’s grin broadened. “There’s not much to it. Waiting for a bite is the hardest part.” His expression softened, as if a pleasant memory had just traipsed across his mind. “It’s a peaceful pastime. A nice way to unwind after a long day.”

“I could do with some unwinding.” Letty rolled her head in a small circle, trying to remind her neck and shoulder muscles that they didn’t have to stand at attention all day. Being constantly vigilant made it hard to relax, even when there was no threat in sight.

Philip nodded in commiseration. “Me too.”

Letty smiled and glanced down at her lap.