Deadlands Hunt by Gayla Drummond Page A

Chase."
     
    "You're welcome." The Weren felt ridiculous, taking thanks for doing what was natural and trying to comfort her. Deciding she looked tired, he suggested, "Maybe you should try to sleep again?"
     
    "That's a good idea," the red head agreed. "We will be rising quite early after all."
     
    "Yeah." Chase licked the corner of his lips before saying, "If you ever need to talk, just let me know. I'm willing to listen, Amethyst."
     
    She met his eyes and quietly replied, "Thank you for that."
     
    A moment later, she'd risen on her toes to deliver a soft kiss to his cheek and was hurriedly exiting the room, tossing a 'good night' over one shoulder. Chase gave her a minute before following, barely aware of his fingers touching the spot her lips had.
     
    *
     
    The maid yawned while traversing the hallway, knocking on doors to awaken the sleepers within well before dawn.
     
    "Amy, there's no light," Sally complained. "People don't really rise before the sun, do they?"
     
    "We're awake." Amethyst found matches by feel and struck one to light the candle on the wash table. "Come on, get up! We've our new things to figure out."
     
    "Ooh, yes, now I remember." Sally bounced out of her bed with a smile of excitement.
     
    Next door, Peter stretched, yawned, and self-consciously smoothed the spiky mass of his hair down. It sprang back up when he lowered his hand. "I say, it's still night out there."
     
    "Rrrr." Brian buried his head under his pillow.
     
    Farther down the hallway, Kyle opened his eyes in time to see water descending to douse his face. A flurry of sputtering action resulted. In the next room, Chase thumped the wall with an open palm. "Quiet in there."
     
    Everything went silent. Satisfied, the Weren stretched, sat up, and stretched again. "Up, Curtis."
     
    "I'm up."
     
    Chase glanced over and observed, "You're not moving."
     
    "Eyelids," the other assured him.
     
    "You can't ride with your eyelids. Up, man."
     
    Curtis obediently sat up and stretched. "There. Up."
     
    "Don't make me come over there, smartass," Chase warned, throwing the quilt off to rise, hand already reaching for his jeans. Mimicking his actions promptly, Curtis had the final word.
     
    "Wouldn't dream of it."
     
    *
     
    "Well," Amethyst doubtfully remarked as they stared at each other. "I suppose we look a bit silly."
     
    "I feel rather silly," the blond agreed. "I hope no one says anything. I shall be mortified."
     
    Doors opened and shut outside; footsteps and greetings producing a low rumble of noise as the men of their party headed downstairs. Amethyst drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders after the sounds faded. "Right, then. We should join them."
     
    "Must we?" Sally looked horrified by the idea.
     
    "Of course. Let's take our coats and packs. Did you lock your trunk?" the red head asked, folding her new duster over one arm before bending to pick up her saddlebags.
     
    "Yes, I oooh," Sally squeaked. "I'm not sure you should do that, Amy."
     
    "Do what?" Amethyst straightened, settling the leather bags over her forearm.
     
    Sally waved a hand. "That. You shouldn't do that. I mean, oh, watch!"
     
    Turning, she bent to pick up her saddlebags and duster. Glancing over her shoulder, Sally turned bright pink when Amethyst's eyes met hers after rising from the unfamiliar view.
     
    "Oh, my," Amethyst murmured, also blushing. "Well, I...that is to say, I...we'll just pretend we're not aware of that, shall we?"
     
    They stared at each other for a long moment. Amethyst nodded firmly, stomach beginning to flutter with rising nervousness. "That's exactly what we shall do. Let's go, Sally dear."
     
    "I don't know if I can..." the words trailed off into a soft moan as Amethyst grabbed her hand and Sally found herself dragged out of the room.
     
    *
     
    Downstairs, breakfast was already on the table. Bran finally asked, "What's taking them so long?"
     
    "Probably primping," Brian snorted, nose buried in his coffee."