Page 48 of Cloaked in Beauty

She followed him with her gaze until he exited the trees. Heaving a sigh full of fairy-tale wishes that she should have outgrown years ago, Letty dismounted and retrieved the length of rope they’d prepared last night to serve as Rusty’s leash. She turned to face her pet and patted her leg. He padded over to her and licked her face when she crouched down to hug his neck.

Letty gave him a good scratch. “I need you to do me a favor, all right?”

She held the rope across her flat palms so he could examine it and give it a good sniff.

“We’re going across a bridge, and people get nervous when they see wolves wandering around free. That’s why I need you to wear this around your neck.”

Philip had fashioned what he called a bowline knot on one end of the thin rope. She showed the circle to Rusty.

“I know you don’t like being tied, but this will just be for a little while.”

Moving slowly, she aimed the loop for Rusty’s head. He dodged her first few attempts, but she eventually prevailed.

“That’s a good boy,” she praised as she moved the leash past his ears and settled it around his neck. He shook his head and tugged, but she soothed him with another round of petting. Rubbing his neck, she worked her hands up and held his face so that his eyes peered into hers.

“Please do this for me, Rusty. It’s important.”

Amber eyes stared into hers, the bond they’d had since childhood holding firm. She felt the tension drain from his body and knew he’d accepted the leash. At least for now.

She grinned and ruffled his ears. “I knew I could count on you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a scrap of jerky she’d stashed away for just this occasion. She held it out to him and laughed when he nipped it from her hand.

Rising to her feet, she let the rope feed through her hands until the full length dangled between them. She took a firm hold of the end, imitating the grip Philip used for the packhorse, then mounted Shadow.

“Let’s practice a bit, shall we?” She clicked to her mare and walked her in a circle. “Heel, Rusty.”

Already used to that command, Rusty came alongside the horse.

“Good boy.”

Now to try something harder. Little by little, Letty reeled in the slack, urging Rusty to come closer. The first time he felt the loop tug against his neck, he stopped and snapped at the rope.

Letty didn’t slow her horse, just gave him a bit of slack and called out encouragement. “Come, Rusty. Heel.”

They made three circles before Rusty finished a full rotation on the shortest lead. Letty praised his work and offered another piece of jerky. She continued the practice until the sound of a horse approaching brought her to a halt. Rusty didn’t growl, so she knew the rider must be Philip, but she fingered the hilt of her knife just in case.

When her protector rode through the trees, Letty glanced down at Rusty. “Come on. Let’s show him how smart you are.”

Smiling, she rode forward. “We’re ready.”

Philip almost smiled. His mouth didn’t really curl, but his eyes crinkled enough that she decided to count it.

“Good. The roadway is clear. I’ve already paid the toll, so we should be able to ride straight on. I’ll head down the middle with the packhorse. You and Rusty stay on the outside. If any traffic comes from the other side, I’ll do my best to block you.”

Letty nodded and pulled her hood down as far as it would go. It limited her vision, but as long as she could see the back of Philip’s horse, she’d be fine. Shadow had been following Steele long enough to know what to do without her mistress’s guidance.

When they moved out from the shelter of the trees, the rain that had felt like a gentle mist thickened to a steady drizzle. It was a light shower, not even enough to turn the dirt to mud, but it created the perfect excuse for her hood.

Turning her face toward the river, Letty scanned the Neches. It had to be at least two to three hundred feet wide. Maybe more. The surface looked calm, but so much water had to have a strong current. The overcast sky lent a gray appearance to the water, giving it a menacing feel, one that made her glad she’d be keeping her eyes locked on her horse.

Philip called out a greeting to the man in the tollhouse, positioning himself between her and the booth. She didn’t look up when the man wished them a good day, just kept her head bowed and her grip firm on Rusty’s leash. Hoofbeats muffled by dirt and sand began to clomp on wooden planks.

The bridge was wide, built to allow herds of cattle to cross in the days before the railroad supplanted the longer trail drives. Even so, Philip steered her toward the trestle edge.

“There’s a rider on the far side about to mount the bridge,” Philip murmured. “He’s got a dog with him. Keep a tight hold on Rusty.”

Letty’s stomach churned as her knuckles whitened around the leash. “Good boy, Rusty,” she murmured softly as they neared the midpoint of the bridge. “Stay close to me now.”

A bark she didn’t recognize echoed from somewhere ahead of them. Then nails clicked, the sound of a dog running.