Waking Up Dead (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) (17 page)

Ty turned as she approached and
cocking a brow asked the question without saying a word.

Turning to the old witch, she asked,
“I wonder if you might help me tie my skirt?” The flush of
embarrassment rose in her cheeks. “I can’t seem to tie it tight
enough for the stubborn thing to stay put.” Blushing completely,
she searched the ground for something to pin her attention on
besides Ty’s steely consideration. The man had the most irritating
way of unnerving her. The flutters in her belly started up again
and she hated the uneasiness he made her feel when he was
near.

“
Let me help you,” he
offered blandly. “I’ll see to breakfast.”

Sonja presented her back to him and
countered, “I can see to breakfast. What would you like with your
hardtack? Grits or grits?” The glib question did a good job of
centering her world again and when he’d accomplished the task of
completing her dressing, she turned and faced him with a warm
smile.

“
Thank you, Mr. Loflin.”
She smoothed the front of her skirt.

“
My pleasure, ma’am,” he
replied with a grin.

Feeling steady again, Sonja turned to
gather the iron skillet out of its protective box. The slight
sensation of someone behind her ran up her spine, setting her
senses on alert.

“
Here, let me.”

Hortence’s hand came into her
peripheral view and grasped the skillet before she could fully lift
it out of the box. “You don’t need to be lifting anything heavy
today.”

Stilling, Sonja released her grip on
the skillet and waited until the old witch had taken a step back
before turning to escape Ty’s close proximity as well. She could
feel the heat from his body and it stirred a slow, simmering fire
in the pit of her stomach. Concern ran rampant this morning!
Closing her eyes momentarily, she concentrated on forcing the
irritation at his opinion of her condition as well as the
butterflies in her stomach to the corner of her mind before going
to the other side of the wagon and gathering flour for biscuits.
When she returned, Hortence stood grinding coffee beans for the
pot. As they worked, things remained quiet concerning the
situation. Though Sonja ran over several things, she wanted to get
straight with Mr. Loflin in her head. Counting them off mentally
did little to ease the nagging sensation she’d lost control
somewhere along the way. The pout she sent him surmised her
mood.

“
Not a morning person, Mrs.
Brooks?” Ty’s brow arched as he caught the hard gleam in her
eye.

“
No, Mr. Loflin, I’m very
much a morning person. I love to watch the sun come up over the
horizon and wash the new day in its light.” With a fork in her
hand, Sonja glanced up from the bacon she turned in the skillet.
His gaze held keen intensity. She shifted to another subject.
“You’re going out today?” Sure he understood her meaning, she
flicked a glance at him as he rubbed at the knees of his hide
britches. Struggling to concentrate on the meat in the pan instead
of the man across the fire, Sonja returned her focus to the
skillet.

With a long, fluid movement, Ty leaned
across the fire and lifted the coffee pot. Carefully refilling his
cup, he inclined his head in her direction. “Would you like another
cup?”

The smile she gave him was brittle,
but sufficient, she mused. “Yes, please.” She noted the strong
length of his fingers as he maneuvered the pot to hover slightly
above her cup.

“
Don’t see many women who
take their coffee black,” he commented. “Is that because of the
lack of cream out here in the wilderness or have you always enjoyed
it that way?”

Hortence laughed.

His question was conversational in
tone and Sonja found her back relaxing once again as she gave him a
slight quirk of her lips. “My father taught me to like coffee the
way he did.” She shook her head slightly. “Much to my mother’s
chagrin.” Her eyes sparkled with tears when she thought of her
mother. What would she think of her daughter as a
werewolf?

“
Biscuits are ready,” Ty
observed as he raised the lid on the Dutch oven nestled in the
coals of the fire. Again, with the mitt, he pulled the black pot
out of the fire and gently retrieved a biscuit from it with a fork.
Cautiously maneuvering it to her plate, Ty offered her the tin can
of syrup with his free hand. The gentle smile creasing his tanned
face, brought her back from her memories.

“
I don’t mean to ruin your
breakfast, but I have to tell you, I won’t be going out today.
Smoltz wants me to drive your team since you’re injured.” He
glanced up from his plate.

Sonja couldn’t say what crossed her
mind at such a point, except to be startled at her wayward
thoughts. Rather than being upset with his handling of the
situation, like she should be, her mind raced ahead and imagined
herself seated next to his muscled body on the wagon seat. “I
should have known,” she fairly breathed. In her condition, she
didn’t have the strength to drive the team today. What bothered her
was how he’d made the decision for her without as much as a
word.

“
Do you always get your
way, Lieutenant?” Unable to help the temper rising in her eyes,
Sonja shot him a caustic look.

“
Yes, ma’am. I
do.”

Hortence laughed again.

Flat and to the point, she
mused. “You’re thoroughly infuriating!”
She didn’t care if God himself ordered him to drive her team.
They were her team. Despite the events of the past twenty-four
hours, she could still take care of herself, damn it!
“You could’ve had the decency to at least ask. Are
you sure you aren’t needed elsewhere today?” Unable to keep the
sarcasm out of her tone, Sonja cut cool eyes at the rough as nails
male figure sitting only feet away.

“
No, ma’am.” He glanced up
from his biscuit as he mopped the syrup from the plate with it.
After stuffing the remainder of the biscuit in his mouth and
swallowing, Ty inclined his head as he rose to wash his plate and
tidy up. “We’ll be in Balch Springs soon. We can get a doctor to
take a look at your shoulder.”

Sonja’s spine stiffened. He hadn’t
argued with her over her right to choose whether to drive her team
herself or not. He’d changed the subject, which was almost as
infuriating. “I’m fine, really,” she emphasized. “The bruising
makes it look a lot worse than it really is. Why, by tomorrow, I
should be right as rain.” The confident smile she sent him fell
short of her own beliefs but no one needed to know of those
beliefs.

Hortence let out a huff of breath and
got up from her spot to clear dishes. Mumbling under her breath,
she went about the chore without any more interest in the
conversation.

With a strong hand, Ty rubbed the back
of his neck below his braid and considered the statement as he
studied the fire. “That may be true, Mrs. Brooks, but I’d
appreciate it if you’d do it for me. This will be our only
opportunity to get a medical opinion for several hundred miles. It
would ease my concern over your well-being
considerably.”

He was placating her, she was sure of
it. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to rebuke his request. Never had
her late husband shown any concern over her well-being. Again, she
found the protective gesture considerate, which happened to be a
reaction she found new and slightly pleasurable. Glancing once more
into the fire, Sonja was reminded of how Jeb hovered over Briann
and made sure she was taken well care of, sometimes at the expense
of his own comfort. The idea struck her as pleasant and a bit
self-indulgent, but she chastised herself for thinking such
thoughts, since that would’ve been Robert’s comment under the
circumstances. A little surprised at her own musings, Sonja agreed.
“All right, I’ll see a doctor,” she said.

Chapter 8

Close Quarters

The city of Balch Springs came into
clear view about a mile out. Nothing more than a small
conglomeration of buildings, shacks and tents. The one reason it
prospered was the springs that Jeremiah Balch discovered thirteen
years before. The frigid, crystal clear water was a lifeline in an
otherwise barren land. From the discovery of the springs, people
came and settled, those looking to prosper from the essential
element the Argentine springs provided.

Sonja couldn’t control the
anticipation blooming as they neared the small town. Ty told her of
the bathhouses and the pleasurable experience offered there. She
was looking forward to relaxing and allowing the confusion inside
her to abate. Tyron Loflin was a mysterious man. The stoic persona
he wore so convincingly masked a troubled soul. Sonja found herself
drawn to him. Reminded of the night they’d shared near the creek
made the depths of her ache in a way she remembered. She’d once
been a married woman and figured she understood the reaction of a
woman for a man. Still, with Ty, the sensation was without limit.
He’d reached over and gripped her hand a few hours before and a
shimmer of sensations bloomed inside her. Warmth, yearning and a
thrill spiraled through Sonja and she considered the possibility
there was much more to the relationship between a man and a woman
than she’d ever experienced before.

***

“
Are you excited to be
visiting the baths?” Sonja smiled warmly for Briann.

Briann’s face held the slack-jawed awe
of someone who never dreamt of standing in such a place. “It’s
lovely,” she breathed. “I never considered one day I’d be able to
experience such a luxury.”

Sonja squeezed Briann’s hand. “I can’t
wait.” Her companionable giggle stalled out as Ty approached. She
grew silent as she gazed at the man approached them. His cowboy’s
hat sitting jauntily to one side, his pants hanging low over
muscled hips and spurs jingling on his worn cowboy boots. He
squinted at her from under that ever present Stetson and sent her
heart to pounding. Sonja wanted to capture the relaxed confidence
he exuded to memory.

“
Such a fine specimen of a
man.” Her sister’s words caught Sonja off guard.

“
What? Oh, I…yes, the
lieutenant is a striking fellow.”

“
That loose jointed walk of
his isn’t just for show, I’d wager, sister. The man’s well endowed,
to be sure. Don’t tell me you don’t understand what I
mean.”

Sonja’s gasp was audible. Her eyes cut
to Briann’s as she brought up a trembling hand. “You should say
things like that!”

The light laughter that filtered back
to her came with a price. Her face burned red with the
embarrassment of Briann’s innuendo. Something inside her stirred,
like cooled molasses heating on a summer’s day.

“
Are we ready, ladies?” He
offered each of them an arm.

The proprietor was a gangly fellow who
peered at them with be-speckled gray eyes. His thatch of thinning
hair was dull blonde with white threaded liberally through what
remained atop his sun spotted scalp. He pointed to a board above
him, which held the prices of the establishment’s
services.

“
Ya got your ten minutes
with soap – it’s our most popular. There’s the deluxe with soap and
a hot towel, the gentlemen’s special is a twenty minute soak with
soap, a hot towel and a shave.” He eyed Ty speculatively. The smoke
from his cigar curled around his head giving him the look of a
goose egg nested in a cobweb. “I don’t guess you’ll be needing
that, will ya Injun?” Sneering, he curled his lip and bared his
decayed teeth at Ty.

“
We’ll take three twenty
minute soaks with soap and a hot towel.” His tone brooked no
argument as his eyes roamed the man in disinterested
summation.

“
Which one of these women
is your wife?” The man’s derision was obvious.

Ty glared at the man with something
akin to disgust. “We’d like three soaks, one for my wife.” Reaching
out, he took Sonja’s arm and wrapped it possessively around his
forearm before inclining his head toward Briann. “This young lady
is her sister.”

Scrutinizing the odd group, the
bathhouse proprietor pursed his grizzled mouth before quoting the
price and opening the door after Ty paid him.

Once inside, Sonja and Briann went to
the women’s side of the bathhouse. The small room, which wasn’t
much bigger than the wagon they traveled in, held a copper tub, a
small side table and what Sonja guessed must be a foot bath. The
copper pot sat next to the small table. A young Chinese girl of no
more than thirteen years stirred a sweet smelling salt into the
steaming water in the tub.

Motioning Sonja to undress, the girl
carefully hung her clothing on the hooks lining the wall. As she
sunk into the fragrant water, Sonja sighed happily. It was a
wonderful feeling to relax in a tub after so long a time. The
chilly waters of whatever stream they could find or the birdbath’s
she stingily resorted to on the trail became a bad memory as she
languished in the silky water.

Briann perched on the edge of the
small table and allowed the young Chinese girl to rub the muscles
in her neck while she waited her turn. “You know, it was awful nice
of Mr. Loflin to think of us. He could have simply left us behind.
The invitation to accompany him to town isn’t part of his job
description, I’d wager.”

Opening one eye, Sonja peered
septically at her sister’s smirk of a smile before asking the
question Briann was waiting on. “And just what are you getting at,
Briann?”