Free The Lady in the Mist (The Western Werewolf Legend #1) by Catherine Wolffe Page B

At least we know to be on the lookout for Yankee patrols now.”  He glanced in her direction as they crossed the street.  “There’s something off about him,” he said as he helped her back into the buckboard.  “Did you pick up on the smell?”
    Sonja peered at him as she remembered.  Wrinkling her nose, she nodded slowly.  “Now that you mention it, I did smell something fowl a couple of times, both at the gun cabinet and then in the doorway.  I thought the smell came from something on someone’s feet.”  She glanced on either side of the street before turning back.  “You think it was him?”
    Ty nodded as he released the brake.  “That night you found me, I remember the same smell.  The whole swamp reeked of decay not to mention death, much more than one would associate with a new battle site.”  He clucked his tongue at the mule before guiding her back into the dirt street.
    Sonja cut her eyes at him before clasping her hands tightly in her lap.  “I have to apologize.  I wasn’t thinking clearly the night I found you.”  Her gaze skittered to his face.  “Getting you some help remained foremost.  I suppose he could’ve been in the area.”  She studied Ty for a moment before continuing.  “You haven’t told me much about the attack.  Do you think it was Perkins’ unit?”
    “Quite possible.  We better get back.  I have some tracking to do.”
    ***
    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 didn’t hurt either.  Where had all of that come from?  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’d tended his wounds, Sonja warmed in rush of sensations a proper lady shouldn’t 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.  Theirs 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 blat.  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