Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology)

by Chrissy Peebles

  She wore nothing but her nightgown, which lay torn at the shoulder with blood staining the front. Apparently, she’d managed to nick the would-be thief.

  Briann and Hortence made it through the curious onlookers.

  “Get back you filthy gawkers!” Hortence shoved at the bodies, making a path with her short, stout frame. “Act like you never seen a woman attacked before.”

  “She bit me!” The trapper whined from the wagon. His complaint drew a few stares from the crowd. More movement from the side and Smoltz came into view.

  “Break it up now. Get on back to your wagons. Nothing to see here.” Smoltz stepped closer and positioned himself in front of Jones. “Preacher, you got something you want to say to me?” His stare bore into the pasty face of the clergyman.

  “She’s trouble. We think you ought to do something.” He gripped his nightshirt as if it was a suit coat. “What are you going to do about this, Mr. Smoltz?”

  Briann huffed out a breath and wrapped a shawl around Sonja’s shoulders.

  Ty gathered the shawl closer. When he ran his fingers over the sensitive area, Sonja drew back. It became quite apparent who’d fired the bear gun at whom. A large patch of bluing had already started to mare the alabaster of her skin where the bear gun recoiled and shoved her backward. Briann handed Ty a wet cloth to place on Sonja’s injury.

  “You’re gonna have yourself a healthy bruise there before daylight,” Briann observed as she examined at the marks growing darker by the minute on her sister’s shoulder.

  Sonja sent Briann a warning frown and tried valiantly to hitch the shawl higher over her shoulder.

  Laying a hand over hers, Ty didn’t know whether he tried to reassure her or himself. His heart felt as though it would race away with him. “You’re all right now,” he said with his hand on hers. Smoltz and Smitty lead the trapper away.

  Watching as breath by breath, Sonja slowed her heart rate and fought to control the wolf, he wrestled with his own erratic wild side as well. Regaining some of her lost composure, Sonja laid a trembling hand on his. “I’m fine,” she said, “Thank you for coming so quickly to help me. I don’t think I could have kept him from taking Daisy by myself.”

  “He was after the mule?” Ty recognized the effort it took for her to admit such a thing to him and those standing around. “You did just fine, Mrs. Brooks, just fine.” Certainly, the woman must be in shock because he never dreamed he’d hear her admit she needed help. She gripped his forearm for support. The tingle went all the way up his arm.

  ***

  Before sunrise, Sonja was up and attempting to dress. Her shoulder was black and purple. The skin was puffy despite the cool compresses Hortence had insisted on when she left her the night before. Her body ached all over. Remembering the way she’d fought with the would-be-thief, she had to admit, at least to herself, she was glad she could still walk. There had been a point in the struggle when the man could have easily broken her human arm or leg. Hortence hadn’t explained if she would heal from a human injury as rapidly as a werewolf’s. She was grateful she didn’t have to find out.

  Slowly getting her shirtwaist on and buttoning the buttons up the front of the garment, Sonja paused and took a moment to rest. Weak with fatigue, she sat down on the edge of the cot while she waited until the trembling in her limbs subsided. She must’ve been making a lot of noise because the next came a hard, quick rapping at the back entrance to the wagon.

  “I said are you all right in there?” Ty’s voice was groggy with sleep.

  When she peered cautiously out a slit in the canvas cover, she could see him standing in his sock feet next to the wagon scratching his head and yawning.

  “Mrs. Brooks—”

  She didn’t let him finish. “I’m fine,” Sonja returned and got the unexpected pleasure of seeing him flinch slightly as if he hadn’t expected her to be so close.

  “All right. Hortence is here. I’m getting coffee started. Let me know if I can help you.” The sound of his voice receded from the back of the conveyance as he busied himself with starting the cook fire.

  She fully intended to dress herself. Continuing to struggle with the ties of her skirt, Sonja sighed in exasperation. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to get the tie to tighten enough to rest around her waist. Deciding she could, wait for Briann, who may or may not show up to check on her or she could ask Hortence if she could tie her up and be done with it. Logic won out and Sonja swallowed her thin supply of pride as she gathered the ends of the garment and descended the steps of the wagon.

  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 unease 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. She could feel the heat from his body and it stirred a slow, simmering fire in the pit of her stomach. 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 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 intensity, forcing her shift 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. “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. But she couldn’t bring herself to rebuke his request. Never had her late husband shown any concern over her well-being. She found the 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. The idea of being cared for in such a manner struck her as pleasant, even 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 kiss they’d shared near the creek made the depths of her ache in a way she remembered. She’d 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 experience between a man and a woman than she’d ever experienced before.

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

  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 small 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?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Briann consideration flitted away to some pictures hanging on the opposite wall. Those same warm brown eyes cut mischievously back to her best friend while she rubbed ideally at the length of her leg. “I was just thinking how kind it was of Mr. Loflin to include us in his little trip to town.” She smiled ruefully before studying something else on the nearby wall. “I’d consider him a nice man, don’t you think so?”

  Sonja’s brow furrowed. Ideas formed about his invitation. She closed her eyes and sank a bit deeper in the tub. The heat was working on her stiff shoulder and the water would draw some of the pain away.

  Secretly though, Sonja indulged in where Ty would place some of his more focused intentions. He’d take her for a stroll down along the pool formed by the springs the town was named for just outside of town. With a well-placed hand, he’d claim her as his for everyone who passed. Reveling in the idea of openly sharing such a declaration made her feel bold and she relished in the sensation. Next, he’d find a quiet spot away from prying eyes for them to pass the time while the train was in town. He’d swoop down and capture her mouth with his, running his tongue along the line of her teeth in a testing, probing search. His voice, low and warm would breathe out her name, then his pet name for her as well as his desires. She wanted to hear him speak of his desire for her, his need to be sated and how she’d crowded his mind the whole time since they’d last made love. Her skin tingled. Her core heated and ached for Tyler’s shaft, the thick, throbbing member that only he possessed.