Wild Is the Night

by Colleen Quinn

  Covering a yawn with one hand, Amanda shifted impatiently in her chair, earning a frown from Aileen. All she could think about was Luke. Even knowing what she did, he crept back into her thoughts with a startling regularity, appearing when she was trying to write and preventing her from concentrating on anything other than him.

  Fresh puzzlement surged through her as she thought of her reaction to his latest kiss. She had successfully distanced him, hurt him with her words, yet once he held her in his arms, her mind seemed to stop working and some inner drive took over. She recalled the way her arms crept around his neck, almost in an instinctive reaction, and her nose wrinkled as she tried to sort all of this out.

  “…and red and green are the only appropriate Christmas colors,” Mrs. Mitchell huffed. Her breath smelled suspiciously of gin, and as she leaned forward, a little bottle nearly tumbled out of her pocket. “I don’t know what you’re thinking of, Margaret! Silver and blue are much too cold for this climate. Don’t you agree, Mrs. Parker?”

  Amanda blinked, reacting to the name only because it was Luke’s. She really didn’t think of herself as Mrs. Parker, nor Fess Tyson. She was Amanda Edison, and Amanda alone.

  “I’m sorry, I was thinking of something else,” Amanda answered honestly.

  “Perhaps you’d like to share your thoughts, my dear. You seem troubled.” Grace Brockelman spoke quietly, aware of Amanda’s distraction and the other women’s insensitivity. The school teacher recognized the restless intelligence in Amanda’s eyes and understood her lack of interest. And yet, it was not quite fair in Grace’s opinion that Amanda be left out.

  “Actually, I was wondering if physical mating urges superceded common sense,” Amanda said bluntly, adjusting her glasses and perking up for the first time all morning. “It could be part of our instinct, you know.”

  “What?” Mrs. Meade asked, appalled.

  “Our need to procreate would have to be more compelling than logic, otherwise men and women would never mate.” Amanda simplified her argument, ignoring Aileen’s rolling eyes and pale face. “For it occurs to me that the differences between men and women would make mating an impossibility, without the physical compulsion. Don’t you agree?”

  The women shared a stunned silence, then Grace Brockelman began to laugh softly. She started to clap, ignoring the thunderstruck faces of the women around her.

  “It’s about time we converted these meetings to discuss something more important than the color of our gowns,” Grace said emphatically. “I think if we learned nothing else in the past decade, it’s that our lives have changed and we must change with them. We have a new chance to contribute something meaningful to this town, and Amanda Edison can help us do it!”

  Grace’s face became impassioned and the other women broke into renewed applause. Elvira Brannigan, the mayor’s wife, stood up with her handkerchief fluttering and her face as pale as a china teacup.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea at all. What would Frank Mitchell say, and your Tom, Margaret! I shudder to even think of it. I feel I shall faint…”

  There was a scurrying around for her smelling salts, then Mrs. Meade gave her a stern look. “Oh, shut up, Elvira. We’re all in agreement here, and it’s something we’ve all discussed privately for some time now. We have a chance to really do something constructive, and we aren’t going to let your fainting spells stop us. Now ladies, let’s talk. We’ve been wanting to restructure our school system for some time. Perhaps we could talk about that. Or the medical field.”

  “Ranch wars.” Margaret shuddered. “Tensions are heating up over the use of barbed wire. Perhaps we could help ease the fighting and find a solution.”

  “I agree.” Mrs. Meade accepted a sheet of Amanda’s notepaper and a pen, ignoring the ink that spattered all over her dress. She headed her paper, then drew columns. “All right, ladies, let’s get started. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and we’ll be counting on you, Mrs. Parker, to lead the way.”

  Amanda nodded, then took out a paper for everyone else. She was finally accepted, wanted, and appreciated for what she was. It was a heady feeling, yet she could only hope that perhaps now she would forget Luke Parker.

  Luke was whistling when he strode into the house, feeling a damned sight better than he had when he’d left. At least he had a plan of action. Amanda was shutting him out, but he’d broken through that wall before, and he’d simply have to do it again. She wouldn’t like it, but this time he was going to set new ground rules. If he didn’t, he risked everything—from losing her to finding his laundry decorating the desert.

  “Senor, I try to meet you at the door, but you come in too quickly,” Pedro protested, rushing up into the hallway and wiping his hands on his apron. “We have a visitor here, the sheriff.”

  Luke nodded, recalling that he’d noticed a strange horse outside. “Where is he?”

  “I put him in the study until you arrive. Would you like a drink first?”

  “No, I’ll see him.” A strange foreboding came to him as he walked into the tiny study that was adjacent to the porch. There was but one reason the sheriff would ride out to the ranch to see him, and that reason was Haskwell.

  “Mr. Parker.” Sheriff Mendez rose to his feet and extended a hand, smiling cordially, but the smile did not reach his dark eyes. “I’m afraid I have news, senor. I did not mean to intrude.”

  “Not at all,” Luke remarked, taking a seat. “I suppose you’ve learned something.”

  Mendez nodded. “I wish it wasn’t so. I just received this wire. Perhaps you should take a look.”

  Luke accepted the telegram and opened the envelope, frowning as he read: “Haskwell arrived in Texas, stop. Destination unknown, stop. Wire for help, stop.”

  “It is from the sheriff of Dallas, senor. I sent him a wire and a description of this man. Unfortunately, it seems this Haskwell is following you.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Luke crumbled the paper and tossed the telegram into the fire. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before we heard something. Haskwell isn’t the type to let vengeance grow cold.”

  “I think we need to make plans, and very quickly. I have already stopped by the Running J Ranch and talked with Jake Fontaine. He will meet with us tonight, at my office. I will have my men there also. At least, now that we are warned, we can take some steps to see your wife protected. Where is she now?”

  Luke’s blood ran cold as he realized he hadn’t seen Amanda since that morning. He rang for Pedro, his jaw tightening as he thought of the possibilities. Fortunately, the manservant responded quickly, his face twisted with concern as Luke snapped at him.

  “Where is Amanda?”

  “I do not know, senor. She was here this morning, then she entertain company—Senorita Aileen. I think they went to a meeting of some kind.”

  “There was a meeting of the Woman’s Committee today,” Sheriff Mendez supplied helpfully. “My wife belongs. Perhaps your wife attended also.”

  “Maybe,” Luke responded, distracted. Women’s Committees didn’t sound like Amanda’s cup of tea. Cold, stark dread filled him as he thought of Haskwell so close, and Amanda gone. He wanted to kill her for frightening him like this, yet at the same time, he wanted to hold her, kiss her, and reassure himself that she was all right.

  “I suggest you send a few vaqueros to look for her,” Mendez continued, picking up his hat and gloves, a thoughtful expression on his face. “And I think she shouldn’t travel unaccompanied for a while. I will see you tonight.”

  Luke nodded, taking the sheriff to the door. Amanda wasn’t safe anywhere, until Haskwell was dead.

  “Thank you, Tomas. I’ll be needing the carriage again this evening, if you don’t mind.” Amanda stopped to pat the horse gently, surprised as the stableboy, Pedro’s youngest son, rushed up in a whirlwind of energy.

  “It is good that you are home, Senora. Senor Luke has been looking everywhere for you, and he is tearing up the house like this.” Juan paced back and
forth, his hands behind his back, imitating Luke.

  Amanda frowned, taking her carpetbag and bird cage out of the carriage. “I don’t know why. I am a grown woman. Mr. Parker doesn’t need to know every step I take. I’ll go see him, Juan, don’t worry.” The little boy’s face knotted in concern as Amanda glanced up at the well-lighted house. Hefting her belongings, she started up the path and entered the hallway, nearly dropping the cage as Pedro wrapped his arms around her in exuberance.

  “Thank God you are all right, senora. I was so worried! Your husband has been looking all over for you—”

  “Have you found her?” Luke stalked into the hall, then stopped short at the sight of Amanda with her cage and bag. “Where the hell have you been?” His face was dark with fury.

  Stunned, Amanda answered honestly. “I went to the Woman’s Committee meeting, then I visited the red light district. Some of those women work in cribs, Luke, in this day and age! We had a discussion about procreation and the effects of sexuality as barter, when I decided to visit the fair stalls and look at the cattle. I talked to some of the men there…” Amanda’s voice trailed off as Luke’s face got even darker. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You are the damnedest woman I’ve ever known! I don’t want you ever to put a foot outside this door again without squaring it with me, do you understand? Woman’s clubs to the whorehouse! It’s a wonder you’ve lived as long as you have!”

  He looked so formidable that Amanda’s logic fled. She placed her belongings on the floor, feeling sixteen again, awkward and somehow always wrong.

  “But—” she began in protest.

  “No. You’re going to listen to me this time. You’ve called the shots long enough, and this is the result. We live in the same house like strangers, and don’t even talk to each other. I’ve had enough of doing things Amanda Edison’s way.” He continued more softly as Pedro bowed out of the room to leave the couple alone. “I want you to promise me that you won’t leave this house again without my permission.”

  She stared at him unblinkingly, reminding him of Aesop. When she spoke, her voice was calm, but he could almost read her thoughts.

  “I can’t promise that. I am working, and the book is almost finished. If I need to see something or get information, I shall do so, with or without your permission.”

  There was the slightest tinge of a sneer on the last word, and she gazed at him with all the warmth of a matador examining a bull, to decide where to thrust the sword. Luke swore under his breath, then crossed the four feet that separated them. He grabbed his wife’s shoulders, heedless of her look of alarm as he shook her impatiently.

  “Don’t you understand what I’m telling you? It’s for your own good! It’s Haskwell, goddammit! He’s here,” Luke shouted.

  The color drained from her face and she peered up at him, examining him for any possibility of a lie. Finding nothing but concern in his eyes, she pulled away, then sank down to sit on her carpetbag, her chin resting on her knee.

  “Amanda?” There was more here than fear of an outlaw, Luke could see that. When she turned to look at him, her expression made him wary.

  “I suppose that makes things easier for you,” she said simply, though her eyes blazed. “I’ll draw the man here, and you get your revenge. And if I get killed, so much the better.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Some of his anger fled, replaced by confusion. He looked down at her, a small bundle of knowledge and convoluted thinking, sitting on the floor and impaling him with her eyes.

  “Your reason for being here, with me,” Amanda continued coldly. “Isn’t that what I’ve been all along? The lure to draw out Haskwell? You don’t have to pretend, Luke. I read about it in the post office. Haskwell is after me because I wrote that book about Haines. The poster said that he is the alleged killer. He must have thought I witnessed the crime, and that I could testify against him. But that’s not all the poster said. It also supplied the names of his other victims, including your mother and sister.”

  He blanched as if she’d struck him, but Amanda continued in the same, unemotional voice. “So now I know where I stand. I don’t know why you hadn’t been honest with me. I could have taken the truth.”

  “Is that what you think?” he questioned hoarsely. “That I’m using you, just to get revenge?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Amanda stated. “And logical. Why you were on that train. How you could identify those men so quickly. I just wish you hadn’t—”

  “Go on,” Luke said furiously.

  “—seduced me into thinking I meant something to you.” She turned to him, her eyes misty. Her hair, tied back in a prim knot again, framed her face and accentuated her sharp, intelligent features. She was trying hard to maintain her school marm demeanor, but the months on the trail had changed her, softened her outlook, and made her less sure of herself. Even now she looked at him, almost pleading with him to deny her charges, yet her back was as straight as a nun’s prayer book.

  “Is that what you’ve been thinking?” Suddenly, it all became clear to Luke. What had happened to the gay and carefree Amanda he’d seen on the trail, her inexplicable withdrawal from him, and the cold way she’d been acting since they’d come to Texas. With another woman, he wouldn’t believe she’d arrive at such a conclusion, but to Amanda, if A = B, and B = C, then A = C—all emotions aside.

  “I’d prefer that we not pretend any longer,” Amanda said quickly as Luke slowly drew her to her feet, and entirely too close to him. “We both know why you are here, and now Haskwell’s come. I would just like to remain alive.”

  “Amanda,” Luke said softly, his temper barely restrained. “Sheriff Mendez and I are meeting tonight to make our plans. I refuse to let your stubbornness or independence cost you your life, and if I have to lock you in this house to get you to obey, I will. Do you understand me?”

  Amanda’s cheeks flushed a bright pink, but she said nothing, knowing that if she gave him any indication that she might not obey, he would make good his threat and see her confined to her room like a child. Fuming at the thought of being within this man’s power, she cast her eyes to the floor in meek submission, while her wonderful mind silently calculated. Although she had no intention of curtailing her work, she was equally determined not to get killed for the sake of Luke’s revenge. It was very important now that she stay alive.

  Especially since she now knew that she was carrying his child.

  Chapter

  24

  “Is that the end, Mrs. Tyson?”

  Simon Ledden, the postmaster, twitched his moustache at the sight of the still-wet manuscript, his fat thumb leafing through the endless ream of paper.

  Amanda nodded sadly. “This is it. Do you think you can mail this to New York today?”

  The man’s face softened at Amanda’s obvious eagerness. “I’ll take care of it myself, Mrs. Tyson. A new book, eh?” He smiled secretively. “Western, same as the rest?”

  “In a way.” Amanda reluctantly placed the rest of the book on the post office scale. “This one’s about a woman who makes a fool of herself over a man. Common enough, don’t you think?”

  He heard the sadness in her voice and saw the vulnerability behind the tough mask of her intellect. Cocking his head to one side in a way that Aesop would understand, Simon reached out and patted her hand.

  “Now don’t fret, dear. These things have a way of working themselves out, you’ll see.”

  “Not in this case.” Amanda indicated the book. “It’s finished, and already ended. It’s just a shame I can’t rewrite the real ending, isn’t it?”

  Simon nodded sympathetically, then clucked his tongue as she strode out, the carpetbag in one hand, the bird cage dangling from the other. Too damned much schooling for a woman, Simon thought. Leads to nothing but trouble. Eagerly, he picked up the manuscript and began to read, his glasses fogging almost immediately. Fess Tyson’s new novel was a shocker. And he would be the first to rea
d it.

  The water hole was nearly dried up when they reached it Chase slipped down from the horse first, then tethered their mount to a slender cottonwood before helping Angel. She could mount and dismount as easily as him and they both knew that. Nevertheless, she allowed him to lift her from the horse, liking the way her body felt pressed against his as her feet made reluctant contact with the dirt.

  “Looks like there isn’t much water,” Chase commented as he held her hand and surveyed the area. The outer rim of the pond had become solid mud, but the interior spring still bubbled with clear liquid. Releasing her hand, the young foreman sat on the ground and tugged at his boots. He placed them aside and stepped into the crisp, clear spring, nearly sighing in pleasure as he splashed fresh water on his face and drank deeply.

  “You coming in?”

  His smile was as inviting as the water. Angel stripped off her shoes and stockings, wincing as she thought of the public censure this act would create, were it known. She lowered her legs into the water, sighing as the cool liquid caressed the hot soles of her feet.

  It felt wonderful to be here with him, wonderful doing such daring things as wading with a man. He had taught her to dance beneath a star-studded sky the previous night; she’d never dreamed how much fun that would be with a man like Chase. Slowly, relentlessly, he was stripping away her outer defenses, finding the woman within.

  She saw him watching her, the way she dipped her legs in and out of the water, the way the little droplets clung to her skin and trickled down her dress. Something in his face seemed to change, and he spoke hoarsely. “We’d best be getting back We’re still in Indian country, and it isn’t quite safe.”

  Angel lay back on the bank propped up on her elbows, her feet still dangling in the water. She didn’t want to return to the hot, shadowy interior of the wagon. She didn’t want to leave him. Her body was humming, as restless as the bees scouring the clover flowers, and her blood seemed to flow hotter even as the water cooled her. Her eyes were partially closed, unwilling to reveal these strange new emotions to him He stepped closer and extended his hand.