Waking Up Dead (The Western Werewolf Legend #1)

by Catherine Wolffe

  ***

  Sonja jerked back to face the trail and the wagon master’s lead. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. Briann’s small son, Ethan reached out taking her skirt in his small fist.

  “Aunt Sony?”

  His cherub mouth worked over the words as he tried with difficulty to pronounce her name. “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?”

  “You gonna cry?” His concern was so pure and innocent, Sonja had to suck in air and hold it before she broke down and sobbed right there on the seat. Such a thing would never do, she mused and stiffened to sit straight as a rod on the wooden buckboard, swaying gently with the team’s progress.

  “No, Sony’s not gonna cry. Don’t you worry, son. I got some dust in my eye, that’s all.”

  Her fib fooled the child and he settled back against the plank backrest, nodding in understanding. “Good. Maw says we shouldn’t make you cry ‘cause that would hurt you and we don’t want you to hurt, Aunt Sony.”

  Listening to the small boy’s words, Sonja realized she’d been insensitive to the feelings of those around her. Her sister and the boys could be in danger at any moment because of her. The bloodsuckers would do whatever it took to get to her. She wasn’t a fool. Like Sonja, Briann was also uprooted by the discovery of vampires among the Union army’s rank and file. The fact Briann warned the children to be considerate of her feelings sent a pang of guilt straight through her heart. How stupid, she’d been feeling sorry for herself when others depending on her for their safety. Neither did she have time for wallowing in self-pity over the lieutenant. He was a grown man and capable of controlling himself, wasn’t he? He’d better be! Her cheeks flamed at the idea of another woman working her wiles on him and Ty succumbing to her charms in a moment of weakness. The sun must be getting warmer. She perspired in the noonday heat.

  The smallest hand tugged at her shirtwaist sleeve continued to apply pressure to the material. When had Ethan become so strong?

  “Aunt Sony, are you listening?”

  “Sorry, Ethan. What did you say?” Sonja wasn’t sure if she was overcome with the heat or a surge of wolf blood made her woozy but she slowed her team, hoping the sensation would pass.

  Ethan’s insistent voice droned on in her ears.

  “I said General Stewart came by last night to check on us.”

  It was hard to hear him over the roaring in her head. The wagon hit a hole, causing Sonja to lurch sideways almost unseating her. Managing to return to the present, she whispered an Indian prayer Ty had taught her. Up ahead she spotted the wagon master ambling along. Stars danced around the corners of her vision. It wouldn’t do for him to see her having difficulty. “Briann?” The scrape of leather on wood from the back of the wagon announced her sister’s arrival. Soon Briann appeared in the opening of the canvas cover.

  “Woah, girl. Easy…” Sonja pulled hard on the reins and slapped with the whip to remind Daisy what her place in the team meant. Pulling harder on the reins, Sonja was finally able to calm the mule before Daisy caused the whole team to act up. “Would you take the reins for a bit? I’m seeing spots and my face feels flush.”

  Bryan checked her temple for a fever. “Of course, sweetie. You do seem clammy. Have you forgotten to drink enough water? You know what Hortence said about getting fluids down after a change. It’s only been a week since the full moon.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m drinking enough water. You’re worse than a mother hen always clucking around me.” Cocking a brow at Briann, Sonja turned to slide back to the relatively cool interior of the wagon. What she wouldn’t give for a little sleep, she mused. Since leaving Pennsylvania, there’d been one thing after another. What with watching out for vampires, keeping a low profile and yearning for the arms of the lieutenant around her in the wee hours of the night, she was a mess. The duty to look after the other members of her family fell to her. Another search for Ty left her disappointed. In the distance, she spotted a small cloud of dust. It must be him leaving to do whatever scouts did on a trail.

  “Here, let me switch places with you. I’ll drive while you lie down.”

  Sonja mumbled her thanks and fell into the comfort of the cot. Little Ethan stood watching her as he held tight to the side. The wagon’s sway lulled her into sleep despite her better effort to stay awake.

  ***

  Ty allowed the horse to have his head. Brooding, he’d been told did a man no good. His older brother, John brooded. There must be some family gene for brooding in the Loflin clan. His thoughts turned to the Sonja. Her cool attitude toward him did a good job of keeping him up. He hadn’t slept well since they’d joined the wagon train. Dreams about her body wreaked havoc with his control. He considered himself a realist. Most of the incidents since he’d met Sonja were grounded in magic and fantasy.

  His recent task proved a challenge. The widow St. John was an heiress from New Orleans. Damn Smoltz to hell and back for ordering him to ride with her. All he could think of was Sonja. No good would come of such thoughts. Sure, during the day, he could scout and keep his distance, but at night, things could get out of hand.

  The wagons had stopped for the night. Shoving his Stetson down further on his head, Ty jerked his mind back before sliding boneless from Soldier’s back. He gave the horse’s nose a rub as he eyed Sonja’s wagon. He should go straight over to Smitty’s cook wagon. Then his keen eyes found her.

  Sonja stepped from the other side of her wagon with a linen towel slung over her shoulders. Her shirtwaist lay opened and revealed the creamy swell of her breasts above her chemise. Ty could tell she wore no corset. The slender shape was all hers. Totally ignoring his sensible side, he stared as she came around the wagon and sat down next to the small fire she’d built in the grate. With her arms above her head, the linen wrap fell away from her hair.

  Her long hair fell to her waist. She worked the towel down the length of the glossy mane to her waist. Long, agile fingers smoothed out any tangles before she picked up a large comb and ran it through the silky locks.

  Ty didn’t recall how long he’d been in that one spot. He should make himself known, but something prevented him from doing so.

  She hummed quietly to herself. The firelight played over her skin giving it the glow of warm cream.

  His fingers tingled. Her hands stroked down the length of her hair in the soft firelight. Imagining what those fingers would feel like on his skin, made Ty snap back to his senses. He coughed.

  Sonja jumped and turned. Her expression full of surprise and irritation showed plainly on her face. “What are you doing?” she asked curtly. Standing, she fisted her hands on her hips, which caused her bodice to open wider. Apparently, she’d forgotten about her open shirtwaist. Only the thin cotton of her chemise covered the crests of her breasts.

  “I got back from the trail,” Ty explained. A trickle of sweat began to run down his backbone. The sensation mixed with the confusion in his brain prompted his throwing of the question back at her. “What are you doing?” Ty asked in a sharp tone as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

  Sonja’s first reaction was more or less, what Ty expected. “It’s none of your business.” Her nose tilted upward. “But if you must know, I was washing my hair in some of the rain water.”

  Ty glared at her and winced inwardly as she trailed those long, agile fingers down the sagging sleeve of her dress, effectively pulling it further down and increasing the view. He’d died and gone to heaven.

  A quick glance and in the direction of his gaze and Sonja quickly turned away as she worked at the buttons of her shirtfront.

  Ty could see her color deepen in the glow surrounding the fire. “Got any coffee?” he asked, rather innately.

  Sonja flicked her gaze up at him before using her chin in pointing at the pot sitting on the grate. “It’s not too old,” she murmured. “And don’t sneak up on me like that again.” She punctuated her statement by whirling and flouncing away.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ty tipped his hat to her retreating form before st
ooping to pick up the pot. The first sip tasted bitter in his mouth. With a jerk of his wrist, coffee went sailing into the air and the cup settled not far behind. Damn the situation to hell and back! He didn’t need these feelings churning inside him. He’d go see Smitty and maybe he’d have a bowl of something to put in his belly.

  ***

  Ty kicked the fire grate sending sparks flying into the night air.

  “You said you wanted to know! Christ, Ty settle down. She’s all right.” Smitty watched his friend stomp around the fire with rage simmering in his face. “I understand how you feel. But nothing happened. That’s good, right?”

  “Yeah, hell yeah, it’s good. The filthy son-of-a-bitch should never have tried though. He’s gonna pay for messin with my woman.” Glaring down the line of wagons, Ty checked his holster and the barrel of his pistol. Locked and loaded, he started toward Nelson’s wagon.

  Smitty grabbed him. “Are ya daft, Boyo. You’ll have the whole wagon train knowing what happened this afternoon if you go down there now.”

  Ty stopped. His vision fixed on a spot somewhere beyond the wagons, out in the darkness where he wanted to drag Nelson’s worthless body after he was through with him. “He had no right to go sniffing around her or her family. The slimy bastard.” He wrenched free of Smitty’s hold. “I’m okay.”

  “Wait until everybody’s asleep. We’ll pay a visit to Mr. Romeo. He won’t be paying any more calls to Sonja after we get through with him. You can count on that.” Smitty gave Ty a wink and rocked back on his heels.

  Ty studied the ground in front of his boots. “Okay. You’re right. We’ll visit Nelson later when everyone’s to bed.” He continued to study the ground a moment more before he wheeled in the opposite direction.

  “Now, where ya be going, Tyler?” Smitty sounded much like a mother with the tone of his words.

  “To speak to my woman,” Ty growled over his shoulder.

  ***

  “When were you going to tell me?” Ty’s nostrils flared with the effort to remain calm.

  “Tell you what?” Sonja glanced at him as he strode toward her. His face held a very determined hardness. She couldn’t fathom what he was about. “Tyler, what’s wrong. Your eyes have the change in them. You can’t be doing this here,” she chided. “Calm down. Take some deep breaths.” She laid a hand on his and recognized the small sprouts of hair already surfacing along his skin. “Ty, you’ve got to get a hold of yourself.”

  “I asked you a question.” He jerked her up by the arms, bringing their faces to within inches of each other. “What did Leroy Nelson want?” He searched her eyes. “Smitty said he was snooping around here this afternoon.”

  “Ah, Smitty said…” She let the rest of the sentence fall. Clucking her tongue, she pursed her lips before looking into his face. “Every time somebody drops by the wagon, Smitty gets ideas. Mr. Nelson did drop by this afternoon. He wanted to know if I needed help with anything.” She smiled at him sweetly before shoving out of his hold.

  “Needed help with anything!” Ty’s voice rose over the words with incredulous fervor. Letting out a huff of a breath, Ty glanced around for something to punch. “Yeah, I’ll just bet he wanted to help.”

  Sonja blinked. If she wasn’t mistaken, Ty was jealous. Like a cat with the cream bowl, she smiled inwardly. All warm and aroused at the same time, she found herself stepping toward him. “Would you be jealous, Lieutenant?” she taunted.

  “What?” Ty’s expression went slack and then his brow furrowed. “Me, jealous? Where’d you get a stupid idea like that. I want you to tell me when one of the men come by the wagon, that’s all.” He shook his head and examined the boot on his foot.

  Sonja couldn’t stop the trill of laughter that bubbled up in her throat. Her man was jealous and it thrilled her to the bone. He cared enough to be protective of her, even though she needed no one’s help. Wrapping her arms about her chest, she allowed the feeling of pleasure to wash over her. “Oh, I needed that,” she finally managed. Ty stood scowling at her like she’d lost her mind.

  “You shouldn’t jest about something so serious, Sonja. I’m trying to protect you.”

  Slipping into his arms, Sonja peered up into those amazing blue eyes and whispered softly against his skin, “I appreciate your efforts, my darling. Come and sit, the stew’s getting cold.”

  ***

  Smoltz rested on his saddle and stared into the fire. “Don’t worry. I’ve already heard what happened.” He eyed Ty as he walked up. Blowing a stream of cigar smoke high into the night air, he watched it rise.

  “The filthy son-of-a-bitch was sniffing’ around her skirts like a rancher checking a brood mare. I wasn’t gonna let him get his hands on her. And you can forget telling me, it’s none of my business, ‘cause you’re the one who made it my business.” Ty’s eyes fired with the temper flowing through him.

  “Easy, Ty. Settle down. I’m not gonna come down on you because you took care of some horny farmer who figured he’d come across easy pickens’.”

  Not saying anything, Ty simply stared.

  “Nelson’s already been by.” Smoltz sank his teeth into the cigar butt and blew out a stream of fragrant air. “What I am gonna say to you is watch your back. Now that Nelson has it in for you, he won’t let it go.”

  “He was messin’ where he had no business and I explained that to Sonja in a language she could understand. That’s all.”

  “Then what?” Smoltz eyes squinted into the smoke that wreathed Ty’s face.

  “Then…then we…then I stayed for supper. Mrs. Brooks invited me.” Feeling like he’d stepped in it, Ty shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Smoltz glanced up from the fire.

  “And what is it I’m doing, huh? What am I’m doing? You ordered me to do this. You ordered me to watch her and widow St. John. Here it is. You created this mess, Earl.”

  Smoltz nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that. The good preacher was by here and said the same thing.” He shifted his bulk and stood. “He says I’m breeding iniquity— whatever the hell that is. Sonja Brooks is your woman, I know that and I know too that neither of them, Mrs. Brooks or the Widow St John, is able to stand off an Indian attack alone. From what you’ve brought back these past few days, we’re headed for an attack.” He lowered his head. “Seems to me we’ve got about a three-day trek through the Cherokee nation before we can get to the Mississippi. I’m doing what I think’s right here, that’s all.”

  Ty considered the wagon master’s words. He waited a beat before asking, “Why me?”

  Smoltz sent him a quizzical look.

  “I’ve got several able bodied men with me from my unit. Any of them could watch the St. John wagon. Why me?” Smoltz chuckled. “She asked for you in particular.” Waving a hand he continued, “I know what you’re gonna say, but if she was after somebody, you’re the only one I could count on not to let her have her way with you. You’re taken.”

  When Ty’s brow furrowed, Smoltz went on to explain. “Besides, keeps the preacher off my back about my men dallying with the widows was worth your mad.”

  Ty flung out an arm and shook his head in disgust.

  Smoltz chuckled dryly before hocking and spitting into the flames. “Son, here’s another thing, you’re the best damn scout I’ve ever had and that’s why I got you watchin’ them. Now, get some damn shut-eye and be ready to find out what’s ahead of us tomorrow. All right?”

  ***

  Listening to Smitty snore, Ty considered the things Smoltz had said. He’d had no idea. Lying there with his Stetson over his face, Ty let his mind relax.

  The braying of a mule brought him fully awake. Blinking and knuckling his eyes, Ty searched the wagon for the sound. When no mule appeared, Ty scrambled up and tugged on his pants. With his rifle in hand, Ty slid from the back of the wagon and landed with a barefooted thud on the cold ground.

  It was late and the moon was nonexist
ent. The mule continued to bray while somebody hissed and groaned aloud.

  Squinting into the dimly lit ground around the wagons, Ty attempted to course the sounds. A scream settled the dilemma as Sonja’s call for help came to him over the mule’s balking.

  Growls, yelps and then a gunshot and Ty’s heart stopped for an instant. Racing toward the sound, Ty could see Sonja struggling with a hairy beast standing on its hind-legs. The beast fought with Sonja over a gun - no the mule’s line. Hell, Ty couldn’t make out what.

  Nearing the struggle, Ty got a whiff of the hairy beast. The wolf sprang to the defense. Ty’s bones started to shift. He had to regain control – focus!

  The attacker stood on two legs – human? His back was covered in fur – Werewolf? The stench coming from him was strong, like rotting flesh – vampire? A closure look revealed a man, though hairy and filthy, still a man struggling with Sonja. Her eyes bore their werewolf gold. Ty had to get to her and stop the change before both of them became Lycans and took care of this trapper without delay.

  Slipping up behind the trapper, Ty hooked his rifle around the man’s neck and tightened his hold, effectively cutting off his wind. Within seconds, the struggle was over as the trapper fell to the ground gasping for air.

  “She has fangs! Christ on a crutch, she bit me!” The man struggled with Ty to display his wounds. His plea was lost in the melee though he still tried to fight. Pelts flew and grunts sounded from the tussle to regain control of the situation. Soon men, who’d followed Ty, secured the trapper quickly to a wagon wheel.

  Sonja slumped to the ground in a heap, clutching her arm to her side and wincing in pain.

  Ty knelt beside her as several curious people including Preacher Jones crowded in close.

  “She has no business out here.” Jones interjected as several more onlookers moved in for a look. “We should have Mr. Smoltz drop her at the next town if not before. She’ll bring us nothing but trouble. Heed my words! She has the mark of the unworldly!” He’d positioned himself in front of Sonja and raised his hand as if toward heaven in a beseeching attempt at gathering others opinions.