“I can’t be watchin’ out for your kind and drivin’ the train at the same time.”
He cut his eyes at Ty and missed the flash of pure contempt in Sonja’s. “What are you saying, Smoltz?” Sonja’s hackles grew with the wagon master’s placating words. “I’m not capable of taking care of myself and my family?”
Pumping the air between them with his palms, Smoltz smiled friendly like. The wagon master sensed he’d overstepped his bounds and glanced at Ty as if in a plea for help. When none came, he cleared his throat and tried again. “No, I didn’t say that. I mean you’re a widow, without a man to protect her from others who’d make unwanted advances. That’s all. There’s a lot of dangerous things out here on the trail for a lone woman to get into. It’s my job to see to everyone safety. So, I’ve asked the lieutenant here, to look out for you.” Marginally pleased with his own explanation, Smoltz patted his belly and nodded nervously.
“Does the lady in question have any say in this, sir?” Sonja raised a brow.
Ty admired her spunk, even if she was barking up the wrong tree. He garnered her attention with the inclination of his head. From under the cover of his Stetson, he studied her. Intent on supporting her opinion they’d be less fodder for gossip, if they remained separated during the trip, he tried again. “Mrs. Brooks, of course you do. I wouldn’t presume to intrude. I believe you when you declare you’re perfectly capable of making your own way.” Ty could tell she was mentally calculating the predicament this new task would put them in with the possibility of a change into the werewolf state.
“Really?” Sonja drew the one word out as she took a step toward him. “That’s peculiar because I could’ve sworn I heard you tell the trail boss that I didn’t have any business being on this train – a helpless female?” Her pencil thin lips turned up at one corner with disdain.
Ty couldn’t believe his ears. He’d said no such thing to Smoltz – had he? “Don’t worry, Mrs. Brooks, I don’t want to deal with you or any other widow any more than you want to put up with me.”
Her dismissive sniff irked him on a truly basic level. Why was she acting like this? He was the one who would have to face her every day. Being in close quarters with the totally intoxicating Sonja would drive his lust for her beyond his control.
Smoltz’s shook his shaggy head and the jowls of his cheeks drooped lower with the seriousness of his words. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Brooks, but if you don’t take my offer of assistance, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to leave the train.”
The color drained from her face.
Ty could see the realization in Sonja’s expression. She’d misjudged the old wagon master and he’d managed to turn the tables on her. Something tugged at his heart. Damn, but he couldn’t let her be turned back. Genuinely irritated by Smoltz’s directive, Ty sighed deeply, before throwing his hands up in a dramatic show of surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it. Don’t go getting’ all bent out of shape, Earl. I’ll watch the widow. Nobody will have to turn back.”
Sonja’s face tightened as she whirled on him. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of this,” She snapped.
Ty could only stare at her. Was she actually willing to take the chance of Smoltz turning her back?
Smoltz didn’t have a stake in her latest attack and smiled with satisfaction. “Well, good. That’s settled.” Patting his protruding belly, he turned on his heels and sauntered off with a whistle and a command. “Ty, get your gear. You can bunk under Mr. Brooks’ wagon tonight. Use that tent you brought with you when you ran off from the Confederates.” He turned, and giving Smitty, who’d arrived, an absent pat on the back, left them all standing there staring after him.
Ty fisted his hands and ground down on his back molars. He gave Sonja one good glaring scan before stomping after Smoltz.
Smitty intervened and held out a hand bringing Ty up short. “Easy, Boyo.” He patted Ty’s chest good-naturedly but with enough force to keep his friend in place until Ty’s breathing slowed. “You said it yourself. She needs help whether she’s willing to admit it or not. One of us will escort her to St. Louis. Hadn’t you rather it be you?” Giving his friend a solid nudge, Smitty managed to turn Ty around. “Here now, don’t go gettin’ all bent out of shape over Smoltz. He’s only doing what he sees as prudent. That’s a fact. And, besides, you hired him.” Smitty let out a little snort and a curt nod before nudging Ty in the arm again. “You can’t tell me this isn’t what you wanted.”
Ty shrugged.
“After all, she’s your woman. You should be lookin’ out for her.” The grin he shot Ty had him relaxing some.
“We were careful around Smoltz and the others. Sonja has this idea that the others will object to our sharing quarters without being man and wife.” Ty scanned the distant tree line. Without missing a beat, he shifted his focus. “We need to get a move on. Let’s make the most of this daylight and keep your eyes peeled for Indian trouble.”
Smitty walked back with Ty before heading out to get his own rig ready to move.
With his hands shoved into his front pockets, Ty released another breath. Smitty was right again. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins. War could blur a man’s sense of right and wrong, but Ty hadn’t not run off from the conflict. He glanced in Sonja’s direction. She ignored his stare. She’d been the reason he’d disappeared. The Irishman knew the truth about Ty’s gift and how he’d come by it. Ty trusted Smitty to keep their secrets. After all, the Irishman’s levelheaded thinking had been the reason for his securing him as his sergeant in the first place.
“I didn’t run off,” Ty reminded Smitty between his teeth. The look of sympathy Smitty sent him, only grated on his already inflamed nerves. Damn the wolf, he had to regain his control.
“At least he didn’t say anything about you haven’ to eat with her,” Smitty offered good-naturedly.
Ty flicked a glance at Smitty before the twitch at the corner of his mouth became a full-fledged smile. The Irishman knew exactly what to say to defuse Ty’s ire.
“Ah!” Sonja wheeled on her heel and stormed off in the opposite direction, skirts swaying.
Smitty bumped Ty rib with his elbow. Sonja’s skirts swayed seductively as she left in a heat. “Why is it you get all the good jobs around here, huh?”
The grunt Ty released said it all. Without a glance in Smitty’s direction, he gripped his friend’s shoulder, muttered an oath in Choctaw and headed after Sonja.
She stood staring out at the land, which seemed to roll on forever. A gentle breeze played at her skirt. Behind them, the whoops and hollers for men, braying of mules and leather slapping against hide danced on the early morning air. She resembled one of the stone statues in front of the Catholic Church back home in Tyler. Silent, brooding, but determined, Sonja resembled a soul trapped in the confines of her own existence. Somehow, Ty understood. Unsure of where the revelation came from, he stepped toward her.
She wheeled on him. Eyes sparked like golden diamonds as she fisted her hands in the folds of her dress. “This is your fault!”
“My fault!” Ty’s eyes narrowed. He glanced away, working his jaw back and forth before turning back to face her. Intent on making his point, he flung a hand behind him in the direction of the receding wagon master. “I reminded him how independent your kind were. Frankly, you or any woman won’t make it another ten miles without somebody’s help.” He immediately regretted his statement when the pain rose in those magnificent eyes.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You don’t believe I can do this either because I’m just a woman – your kind indeed!” Sniffing and wagging a frantic finger in the direction of the wagon master, she charged. “Neither does he!” Those exquisite hands dropped resting on either side of her slender hips before she glowered at him. “You probably suggested he get rid of me too, didn’t you?”
“What?” Ty’s huff of breath came out with an oath. “You’re putting words in my mouth, now. Damn it, Nymph.” He scrubbed a hand d
own his face. She considered him in on the conspiracy and that stung. “Look, darlin’, I’d never suggest he send you back. Not you.” Trying for a truce, he took a step toward her and met the palm of her hand as she stopped his advance.
“Don’t do that!”Her eyes flitted side to side. “You know we’re being watched by everyone on this god-forsaken train. Gossip will run rampant and I can’t have that. Not now with so much going on.”
Frustration creased his face. “Damn it, Sonja! I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”Ty brow furrowed as he gazed intently at her. “I miss you so much I ache.”The need for his mate rose up unbidden, raw and primal. He shoved her against the side of the wagon with a growl. “This forced abstinence is driving me mad.”
“For everyone’s sake, we can’t take the chance of intimacy now. What if the change occurs in the heat of passion? Will you be able to control the beast?” Sonja shook her head as she answered for him. “Neither of us is strong enough yet to stop the wolf inside us and everyone on the train could be in danger.” She peered deep into his eyes. “Oh, I wish it weren’t so, but we aren’t well trained enough yet to control the wolf side of our natures.”
She laid her hand on his chest and Ty could feel the intense heat of her touch, his mate, his lover.
“Don’t speak of it, Lieutenant. We’ll be better off if we try to not think about how we feel.” The pain in his eyes made her add, “Because of where we are!” The hand she used to stop his advance pushed back as she made a space between them. “If I harmed one of my family or someone while in my wolf skin, I’d never forgive myself.” Sonja bowed her head and gave in to a light shake of her golden curls. “We’ll be able to put all this behind us soon and start over in a new place where we’re alone.” Lowering her lashes, she struggled with the tears threatening to fall. When they rolled unmercifully down her face, she wheeled, heading for the front of the wagon.
***
Facing west, Sonja searched the hills. Out there, somewhere the enemy would be lying, waiting for her to make a mistake. Somewhere out there her advisory patiently waited. If not for the Guardian, Hortence, and the good General Stewart’s efforts, they’d already have been dead.
Briann slapped the nearest mule on the rump with the reins and made a clicking sound as she sucked in air with her tongue against her teeth. Briann’s boys, Ethan and Nathanial rested on the cot in the back of the wagon. They tow heads lying close together with Ethan’s arm resting comfortably over Nat’s shoulder in peaceful, innocent slumber.
The trail spread before them like a winding creek ever busy as it wound its way to the sea or in this case the Mississippi River. They expected to arrive within the week and Sonja tried to quell the anxious concern rising in her throat. They’d encountered nothing along the route which made her grateful, yet edgy. Perhaps it was her overactive imagination or there was something to the prophecy the old witch, Hortence had shared with her a couple of nights back. She’d warned Sonja to be vigilant. The enemy would come disguised as another.
Briann popped the whip atop the nearest mule hindquarter and the team responded. Each animal harnessed next to one another in pairs moved laboriously forward always following the wagon in front of them. Sonja imagined they resembled a gaggle of gypsies meandering along. Though slow and arduous, the procession wasn’t without excitement as each wagon’s lurched along behind the other.
She couldn’t help but look for him. Tyler drew her attention at every turn. His strong, masculine body, trim at the waist and long of leg called to her. The feel of his body close to hers in the middle of the night was something she held close in her woman’s heart. Soon they would be together again she prayed. Giving her head a good shake, she remembered how expertly he’d hitched her mules including the cantankerous Daisy in place and marveled at the skill with which he checked her wagon before they’d broken camp.
Even giving her an order to secure several of her items inside the wagon for safekeeping made sense but still didn’t sit well with her. Why did his sudden aptitude for orders irritate her so? Surely the reason lay with the change they’d both endured. Her wolf wanted the self-reliance, which came with being a wild creature. Sonja already surmised Ty’s wolf was the alpha male she needed. She let out a sigh before glancing about at the wagons behind hers. That wasn’t the complete truth, she mused. Her world turned upside down with the change. She grieved over the fact she’d given him her blood to heal him. Dying and unable to prevent the curse, which came with the cure, Ty drank what she’d told him was Ox’s blood. She was responsible for him being a wolf like her and despite his denial, the truth remained. He was a werewolf because of her. Did he silently resent what she’d done to him? Nightmares over that doubt continued to wreck her sleep. On edge and uneasy, Sonja couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that hounded her waking hours. Ill winds blew in their future.
Forcing her misgivings down, Sonja peered behind at the others in the slow moving procession. The members of their little band of nomads as varied as the trail they followed, ambled along in a makeshift white thread.
First in the line, the preacher’s wagon swayed side to side in a rhythmic dance. The wagon was large, one of the biggest in the train. Reverend Jacobs was a devote Baptist minister with a strong opinion on God and his flock. Having joined them only a few days prior, his duty was to keep a keen eye on all the members of the train. Sonja smiled at the way he’d adopted them all as his concern. They’d immediately become his flock. He would keep their eternal souls in check but leave the labor of work and walking to them. Sonja found his constant scrutiny of the members of their little band of wandering souls tedious to say the least and outright intrusive at times.
His wife was no different. She didn’t miss an opportunity to point out the difficulties the wagon train came upon, “Were the vengeance of God on an unruly people”. Sonja tried her best to keep her distance.
The next wagon in the procession was Major Blakely. A former officer of the Confederacy in Jeb Stewart’s regiment, along with his wife, Effie, their journey begun as many of the others did, in secrecy because of his position in the South’s failing attempts at succession.
There was a bit of a soft spot in her heart when she considered all he and his family endured due to the alliances he’d made. She found his efforts honorable and sympathized with his wife, Effie, mourning the loss of their home as well as their way of life. For them, Texas seemed like a good place to begin again. Carpetbaggers and tax collectors as well as continuous unrest would haunt the south for years to come. Leaving behind several generations buried in family plots, many southerners like the Blakelys, hoped for the possibility of a new beginning with peace and normality their main goals.
Effie Blakely was a gentle soul who did her best to keep an optimistic view of the world and her place in it at all times. Sonja looked forward to a cup of camp coffee with Effie whenever the chance arose. She supposed their talks reminded her of the way of life she left back in Pennsylvania.
Behind them was a new wagon, Sonja didn’t recognize at first, not until the familiar cavalry hat belonging to the lieutenant came into view. He glanced behind the wagon as he steered the wooden conveyance-on-wheels while a slim dark-haired beauty sat beside him. The pang of jealousy hit Sonja in the chest. It was sharp and ragged as a blade. She blinked with the pain of the new emotion. Never before in her life had she been so stricken by the one scene as she was with the woman sitting next to the man she loved more than life itself. Mrs. St. John, she concluded, was breathtakingly beautiful in the delicate way those of French decent possessed.
Briann noted Sonja’s pale face. “What’s wrong, dear?”
“Nothing,” Sonja shifted her gaze to the land stretching before them. “I must’ve gripped the buckboard too tightly. My hand began to throb, that’s all.”
The look Briann sent her spoke of understanding. “We’ll be there soon, Sonja. All will be right once more. You’ll see.” Patting her sister’s leg, she focused fo
rward on the team and their path.
Silently, Sonja hoped her sister’s reasoning was sound. The dread she held a tight rein on spoke of trouble.
Chapter 7
Control
“I appreciate your help.” The widow St. John batted her lashes.
Determined he wouldn’t give into the temper brewing, Ty clamped down on his teeth and nodded. Did he have a reason to wish Smoltz to die a slow death? Yes, he supposed he did. Having to put up with being an escort yet again for another widow, tried his patience to its limit.
“I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t agreed to help me, Mr. Loflin?” She spread her lace fan. Her efforts at stirring the air wafted a scent in Ty’s direction. A Peculiar scent that was somehow familiar. Yet, he couldn’t place the faintly earthy aroma.
He had a hard enough time keeping the widow’s hands and eyes off him and his hide. Damn, Smoltz! He tried Ty’s patience at every turn. He couldn’t cross the man though, because Smoltz recognized something was amiss with Sonja and he.
Doing everything in his power to keep from acknowledging the widow’s provocative smile or the swell of her bosom beneath the sheer lace of her bodice proved the hardest of tasks.
“It’s my job, Mrs. St. John.” The job didn’t include fringe benefits for the widow. Ty stiffened when her petite hand closed over his thigh.
“Would you mind if I hold…”
“As a matter of fact, I would.” Ty slid to the opposite side of the buckboard. Jumping down, he turned. His face hardened without allowing even the slightest expression. “I’ve got things to do.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do now?” she wailed in disbelief.
“Try driving the team, Mrs. St. John. Otherwise, you won’t get far.” With one leap, he was astride his horse, untying the animal from the wagon and leaving the heiress to make it on her own.
Waking Up Dead (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) Page 10
