Page 32 of Cloaked in Beauty

Philip’s hand shot out and grabbed her reins, nearly scaring her out of her saddle. “Hold.” The quiet command sent frightful shivers coursing over her skin.

Letty jerked her head up and searched his face for a clue as to what was happening. His expression had hardened to something resembling granite as he stared straight ahead.

“He hears something.” Philip’s murmured explanation did little to calm her racing pulse.

She followed his gaze to where Rusty stood on the trail. Head up. Ears perked. Body stiff. She’d never seen her wolf so intent. Not even when hunting. Letty searched the area for clues to what might be setting him off, but she saw only trees and brush.

Rusty tilted his head, the movement sharp, as if he had just heard another sound. Before Letty could ascertain what he’d heard, the wolf shot off at a run.

“Rusty! No. Come back!”

The wolf ignored her calls, as did Philip, who was angling his horse between her and whatever danger Rusty had decided to chase down. Alone. She pulled her mare’s head around, desperate to try to spy Rusty in the trees, but Philip’s large frame kept blocking her view.

“Stay behind me.” He pulled his rifle from its scabbard and levered a cartridge into the chamber.

She obeyed and reached for the knife she kept sheathed at her waist. She pulled the weapon, determined to help in whatever fight might come.

But nothing came. Not even Rusty.

After several long minutes, Philip laid his rifle across his lap and gathered the packhorse’s lead. “He must’ve scented a deer or something. I’ll keep an eye out for trouble, but for now, I think it best for us to keep moving.”

“All right.” Letty slipped her knife back into her sheath, but the feeling of danger would not be put away so easily. It lingered, tugging at her heart, building inside her like steam in a kettle.

Shadow fell into step behind Steele, and Letty did her best to calm her thumping heart. Philip had the experience in situations like this. She trusted him. They’d just had a little scare. That’s all. No need to let it rattle her. No harm had come from it. Yet that logic did nothing to dull the rising sense of urgency in her breast.

Something was wrong. She didn’t know what, and she didn’t know where, but she knew in her soul that danger lurked.

Is this feeling from you, Lord? Or is it just my overactive imagination manifesting danger where there is none?

She searched her heart, and then she searched the trees. Neither offered the answers she sought.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait for Rusty to return?”

Philip did not turn around to respond. “Rusty will find us when he’s ready. Just like he always does.”

Maybe, but this time felt different. It felt . . . weightier. It reminded her of the urgency that had pressed against her heart the morning she found her grandmother collapsed.

She peered into the trees again, in the direction Rusty had run. What had called him away? What had he heard? And why couldn’t she let it go?

They traveled in silence, Philip leading them out of the thickest trees to an area that offered greater visibility. Time ticked past, and she noticed the rigidity in Philip’s posture begin to relax. The sight should have comforted her. Fifteen minutes, perhaps twenty had passed with no evidence of an imminent threat. Yet the unease in her spirit refused to abate.

That’s when she heard it. Rusty’s howl. She turned in her saddle and scanned the outlying trees for a glimpse of her pet. A flash of reddish-brown fur darted between the pines.

“Rusty!” Letty brought her mare’s head around and tugged her to a halt. “Good boy. Come!”

The pressure on her heart lifted momentarily, but when Rusty breached the clearing, her relief evaporated. There was no tail wag, no happy reunion. He charged up to them, stared at her as if trying to tell her something, then spun around as if to take off again.

“What’s wrong, Rusty?” Something obviously had him agitated.

He padded close to her, nudged her heel with his head, then ran off a few paces. Halfway to the trees, he turned and barked.

Comprehension dawned. “He wants us to follow him.”

Philip scowled at her. “Absolutely not. Whatever has him riled is not our problem.”

She couldn’t argue with Philip’s logic. It would be far safer to mind their own business than to go gallivanting off into the unknown. But her heart throbbed within her breast with a newfound certainty she couldn’t ignore.

“I have to go.”