Deadlands Hunt by Gayla Drummond Page B

Ladies spend an inordinate amount of time primping."
     
    "I wish they'd hurry up," Kyle groused while staring at the platters of food. No one had made a move to start serving themselves, the Weren following Peter's lead in politely waiting.
     
    "I think I like their idea of primping," Curtis informed them, having caught a glimpse of the ladies beginning to descend the stairs. "Yeah, I'm sure I do."
     
    Other eyes followed his gaze, and their looks became stares. Chase in particular found his eyes refusing to detach from the vision of supple buckskin encasing well-curved hips and much longer legs than he'd unconsciously given Amethyst credit for having.
     
    The buckskins were tucked into high, glossy black riding boots. Cream-colored shirts fit snugly into the buckskins, and gun belts hugged each tiny waist. Both young women wore dark brown cowboy hats.
     
    As one, the men stood as they approached the table. Brian found his voice first. "What the hell are you wearing, Amy?"
     
    "Much more sensible attire for the matter at hand," she replied, placing her burden of duster and saddlebags on the bench between them, grateful for the distraction. She wasn't quite ready to meet Chase's eyes after the night before, regretting her show of weakness. "I doubt silk skirts would stand up to the task, so men's attire seemed the more suitable choice."
     
    "I think they look wonderful," Peter gallantly remarked, earning a grateful smile from a pink-cheeked Sally.
     
    "I've damn sure never seen men look that good in buckskins." Kyle grinned at Amethyst. "What do you think, Chase?"
     
    Chase didn't get a chance to answer as Brian exploded. "They look ridiculous. Scandalous! Go upstairs and change this instant!"
     
    "We will not!" Amethyst flared, flipping the braid she'd woven her hair into over a shoulder. "Do be quiet, Brian."
     
    "Yes, do be quiet," Sally echoed, leaning forward to look at him. "You're being quite the rotter, you know."
     
    "No one was speaking to you," Brian snapped, causing the blond to gasp in outrage. "Amy, this won't do. Not at all. You cannot go about dressed like this in public."
     
    "I don't mind," Curtis broke in. "Don't mind at all."
     
    "No one asked you, Weren," the human snarled, his blue eyes narrowing.
     
    "How rude," Bran spoke placidly while serving himself from the nearest platters. "No one's called you 'human'. Would you like some eggs, Amethyst?"
     
    "Yes, thank you." She smiled then glared at Brian. "Sit down, close your mouth, and eat your breakfast, Brian. If you're not pleased, may I remind you that you still have the opportunity to refrain from continuing this journey?"
     
    "I think you require my presence even more if you're going to insist on dressing in such an inappropriate manner. I gave you credit for more intelligence than you've been displaying of late, Amy."
     
    "I think I shall slap you again if you don't stop speaking this instant." Amethyst locked eyes with him; the Weren watched in fascination, never having seen a human female and male involved in a mental dominance battle before. "I'm serious, Brian. Sit down and eat your breakfast."
     
    A minute dragged by, then he obeyed, eyes leaving hers to settle on his plate. Chase noted she didn't give the man a smile or a 'thank you' like the ones he'd gotten when giving into her demands. Not that graciousness was required after she'd so handily proven herself the more dominant of the two. It was a nicety that the man certainly didn't deserve at the moment.
     
    "My goodness, I hope all our meal times aren't as loud," Sally said, accepting the platter of eggs when it passed down the table.
     
    *
     
    An hour and a half later, all eight mounted up, ready to ride out with Bran in charge of the packhorse.
     
    "By the time we're actually in the Deadlands, the sun will be up," Chase told them. "I want you four to stay in the middle of the group."
     
    Amethyst nodded, urging her leggy, blaze-faced bay alongside his black horse.