The Lady in the Mist (The Western Werewolf Legend #1)

by Catherine Wolffe

  ***

  The new corral fence sparkled in the sunshine. Sonja had to admit, Tyler Loflin was very handy to have around. She shook her head. Being witty as well as easy on the eye did not hurt either. Yearning made you stupid, Sonja mused.

  She found him in the barn. The sunlight silhouetted his lean, rugged form as he hoisted a saddle before turning for the door. Without his shirt on, the muscles along his chest moved in a sort of rhythmic dance. Reminded of his muscled chest under her touch while she had tended his wounds, Sonja warmed in a rush of sensations a proper lady should not be entertaining. As if burned by the memory, she took a couple of tentative steps back. Reality picked that particular moment to remind her that the full moon would be up with the next day or two. With a silent oath, she forced that concern to the back of her mind. Instead, she pasted on a smile when he stepped through the door.

  In his arms, he held a lovely oiled saddle. "Ready to go riding?"

  "Riding? What do you mean?" Peering at the saddle in his arms, she frowned. "That's a saddle I found in the swamp. The Yankees probably threw that one away. I brought the old thing back to see if I could work some oil into the leather. I haven't had a chance to see get to the task."

  "Well, take a look." His smile warmed with her examination of his work.

  The dark, dried leather gleamed with the gorgeous texture of fine cowhide. Reaching out she ran her hand lightly over the restored surface of the seat. Pleased with his accomplishment, she glanced up to see him staring at her with something akin to longing in his eyes. Their eyes locked in silent communication.

  Emma, the mule, came up behind Ty looking for her treat. Effectively breaking the spell, Emma nudged Ty's arm insistently before offering them both a wide toothed mule smile coupled with a loud bleat. Ty broke into a grin for the animal and turned to allow Emma to check his pocket for her treat.

  "You've spoiled her terribly," Sonja said as he settled the saddle on Emma's back.

  "Doesn't hurt to give her a bit of attention every now and again. Animals need love too." His cocky grin had Sonja's stomach clenching.

  "I'll get the basket," Sonja told him. Turning, she went back to the house leaving the two of them to discuss the idea of seating riders on Emma's back.

  When Ty rode up to the house, his grin of pure devilment danced across his handsome face. "She's ready to go."

  Now butterflies took flight inside Sonja's body. He was in his element, she mused. Even though Emma might have started out as a plow mule, with Ty atop her back she became a prime example of horse flesh. "I've never ridden a horse or mule before."

  "Never?" His voice carried a mild surprise.

  Dropping her head, Sonja confessed. "My mother didn't believe in ladies riding."

  Ty dismounted stepping around Emma's flank to offer her his hand. "Well, I promise riding a horse can be a very ladylike endeavor. Will you allow me to demonstrate?"

  His courtly gesture had her giggling. Surprising herself, Sonja allowed him to hoist her up in the saddle. She had not giggled in years.

  "Move forward," Ty instructed as he levered himself up behind her.

  She became immediately aware of his male body against hers. Every nerve ending in her spine screamed with the contact. She could feel the breaths he took as well as his very firm erection against her behind. A tingling sensation stirred in her stomach before spreading through her heating her blood. Unable to stop the reaction to his touch, Sonja went liquid in response. Several moments had passed before she regained her senses to find him talking to her.

  "Have you caught many fish in the creek?"

  "Several. Robert could catch enough for dinner on occasion." Her heart needed to slow. The bronze ripcord muscles in his forearms stood out in stark relief against her paler skin. Unable to help the image of his arms wrapping her in their warmth, Sonja closed her eyes tight against the idea.

  "Well, I figure we can do the same." His breath fanned her cheek.

  "What?" Sonja stiffened.

  "I said we'll probably catch enough for a meal tonight if you help me. Do you fish?"

  "I?yes, of course, I fish. What a silly question." Hating to kill the worms they would have to use had her pursing her lips. Relieved he could not see her expression, Sonja continued her brave front. "I've caught five at one time before."

  "Really?"

  His chest quivered. "Are you laughing at me?" Doing her best to turn to peer at him with a look of consternation, Sonja managed only a glance, before blushing. "You doubt my talents, Lieutenant?"

  "Never."

  She leaned sideways. The beginning of a grin twitched on his exceptional mouth. "You're enjoying the fact that I don't like killing things, even if they are just worms?"

  "No! Well, maybe a little."

  She twisted back around to sit ramrod straight. The very idea! Determined to demonstrate her skills, Sonja focused straight ahead. Even the best-laid plans could backfire, but she wanted to show him she could bait her own hook. Thinking about killing the tiny creatures made her stomach queasy. In the end, she contrived what she considered a plausible excuse for not hurting the worms. Sliding precariously close to embarrassed, Sonja suggested they work as a team to speed up the process. He would bait the hooks needed for fishing while she set up the picnic. After all, there were apples she had brought that needed peeling.

  The spot he picked out remained one of her favorites over the years. Robert had brought her to the same spot when he courted her. Here, the slow moving body of water became a gathering place for many of the wildlife, which inhabited the area. Sonja had grown accustomed to seeing deer grazing along the bank in a small patch of grass or having the squirrels bark their displeasure at having their territory invaded by humans. Robert had shown her the first wolf she had seen in the wild on such an outing as this. She smiled faintly at the memory. Memories were for keeping, not dwelling on, so she closed the door on the past. After all, the present stood only feet away fishing for trout.

  Suddenly, the air stilled as she caught a whiff of something on the breeze. If she were not mistaken, she had run into the same sort odor, like something rotten before in the mercantile. "Do you smell that?" she asked Ty.

  "Yeah," he sniffed. "Something dead." Glancing at the opposite bank, he searched for the cause.

  Sonja's stomach tightened. The lieutenant's sense of smell grew as acute as her own. The picture of him downing the ox blood formed in her mind's eye. In reality, her blood coursed through his veins. "Probably an animal carcass." Trying to sound nonchalant, she shrugged before resuming the apple cutting.

  Irritated with the inability to avoid thinking about what she had done, Sonja bore down on the nerves that wanted to run rampant through her. She did not need reminding of the life-altering change she had unwittingly set into motion with the offering of her blood to save him. Damn Hortence to hell and back! The old woman could have explained what would happen if Sonja shared the 'gift' of her blood with the lieutenant.

  Glancing up as Ty expertly tossed the line out near a pile of fallen limbs Sonja considered Hortence's words. All she said was Sonja would have remarkable healing powers, so she had done the only thing she could do - she had offered of herself. She paused looking down at her hands. A tingling stirred, and she clenched them tight.

  Within seconds, Ty had a bite, yanking back on the pole. Soon, he turned holding a large white perch for her approval. With her face wreathed in a smile, Sonja's inner voice cried out, "What have you done?"

  Ty's talent for fishing proved to be genuine. Soon he was skinning four good-sized perch.

  "Well, shit!" Ty dropped the knife before clutching his index finger.

  "What did you do?" Sonja rushed to his side.

  He'd hunkered down near the water's edge. "Well, since I'm bleeding, I must've cut myself." She could hear the petulance in his voice. Patience would rule the day, she reminded herself.

>   "Here let me see."

  Ty paused before giving her his hand. If she was not mistaken, he worked at reigning in his temper. She could not help the smile that slipped by her guard.

  "The cut's not too deep. You should be all right." Sonja glanced into his face. There lay a longing the likes of which she had never seen before. She hesitated.

  He reached out to run one slim finger down the line of her cheek. Sonja's mind blanked as warmth rippled down her spine before pooling in her belly. Slowly, she tore her gaze from his, those vibrant blue eyes of his urging her to?do what? Irritation passed through her as she shifted away to rent a piece of her mended petticoat off to use as a bandage. Sonja took his hand again.

  Intending to bandage the wound, she blinked in amazement when she realized the cut had closed. Even though the injury was not deep, she wanted to dress the cut. There had to be some mistake! The wound had closed. The only visible sign of an accident having occurred was a tiny pink scar. Quickly, she rose as the beating of her heart increased. Her eyes widened despite her mental order to the contrary. Sinking her trembling fingers into the folds of her skirt, she hastily moved out of reach. If she stayed where she was, she would blurt out her apologies and throw herself on the altar of his mercy. "You'll live," she said as unconcerned as she could manage and went back to laying out the rest of the picnic.

  "How'd you?that's amazing!" Ty stood abruptly. Continuing to stare at his hand, he murmured an oath and glanced in her direction. The look of astonished disbelief on his face knocked her back.

  "Look, the cut closed." He ran a thumb over the scar.

  "Good."

  Immediately, Ty reached for her. Taking her by the arm, he peered deep into her eyes and said, "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." What will he do when he finds out the truth? Her mind screamed.

  For the time being, there he stood with a strip of her petticoat wrapped around his finger. She could not look back. She would say something stupid, and he would grow even more suspicious. If she lived to be a hundred, she would always carry a mental picture of the breathtaking man, broad of shoulder and slim of hip, standing with his silky mane of dark hair splayed over his shoulders. His intense blue eyes, stripping her bare as he watched her.

  "Why don't you finish cleaning those while I get a fire started," she said as she turned away.

  "Nymph?"

  Sonja tensed.

  "You're gonna have to tell me how you managed that." He sounded nonchalant as he walked up to the quilt she had splayed on the ground.

  Panic began to worm its way into her control. Sonja took the fish from him and gave him a hesitant "Thank you." Rather than address his command, she busied herself with tending to their food. If she acted guilty, he would have questions, so she tried for conversational. "These look wonderful." Forcing a smile on her face, she glanced up in time to see him standing over her looking intense again. Her heart tripped in her chest. Please, don't look at me like that, her mind begged. "See if you can gather some hickory. We'll construct a makeshift grill."

  "All right." Ty's voice held an edge.

  He walked away. Her hands were shaking. She had to wrap them around herself. How long could she keep the truth from him?