Wild Is the Night by Colleen Quinn Page B

room.”
    “Why?” Amanda asked innocently.
    As a reply, Luke’s eyes caught hers and he smiled, a warm, sensual grin that reminded her instantly of that horribly embarrassing incident that happened between them. Her eyes dropped and she heard his chuckle, hating him more than ever.
    “I see you’ve caught on. Believe me, that is what most people would think. But don’t worry, I have no intention of taking advantage of the situation. I want you in the same room, until I can find out what became of Haskwell’s gang. We have no idea of where they are—they could even be holed up in this hotel. And until then, it will reduce the need for explanation.” He waited until she nodded in reluctant agreement, still blushing hotly, then he continued. “I’ll be across the street at the store. I’ll get us some supplies, and tickets for the stage to Wichita. That’ll give you plenty of time to do whatever you have to do and send for some supper. Think you can manage?”
    “I can manage just fine,” Amanda snapped. “’For solitude is sometimes the best society.’ Milton.”
    Luke’s eyes blazed and he opened his mouth to reply. On second thought, he didn’t trust himself. Picking up his hat, he stalked out of the room.
    The road to Texas never seemed quite so long. Suddenly, he wondered if it was worth it.
    Amanda stood alone in the center of the room, gazing at the sturdy oaken bed table, the chest of drawers, and the bed which dominated the room. Aesop squawked, and she sighed, then removed the black felt cover and opened the cage door. The sleepy baby barn owl spilled into her hand like a soft ball of down. Amanda cuddled the owl to her breast, reassured by his muffled heartbeat and his sharp, clawed feet that scratched her palm.
    “Aesop, we make a fine pair, we do.” The owl ruffled his feathers, but settled comfortably against her dress, his eyes blinking sleepily. Amanda smiled, running her fingers along one disjointed wing. She remembered the day she’d rescued him just a few months ago—a small, battered fledgling hopping around on the ground with a broken wing. The biology professor’s cat had stalked the tiny bird, and it was only by distracting the feline with her hair ribbon that Amanda managed to save the little owl. In spite of the titters of her classmates, she’d kept the little bird with her at all times, feeding him with an eyedropper when he was small, until he grew to the size where he accepted tiny field mice. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Aesop lived much the way she did, nor that they had a lot in common. The loneliness she’d known all of her life overwhelmed her, and her throat tightened. Placing the slumbering bird back inside the cage, she softly shut the door.
    Aesop would have to stay in his prison.
    But tonight, she was escaping hers.
     
     
    The bar down the street was exactly as she’d pictured. Gaslights gleamed from the ceiling, the light scarcely penetrating the smoke-filled interior of the Applejack saloon. Women dressed in bright shades of scarlet, gold, and sapphire, with black plumes in their hair and gay white boots on their feet, sat boldly on the laps of the cowboys. Amanda gaped as more than one woman giggled appreciatively as a randy cowboy slipped his hands inside her low cut dress, greedily caressing her ripe round breasts framed in black lace. Gamblers sat at the felt-covered tables, studying cards and the faces of the other players with a surprising intensity. Businessmen gathered in the corner, sipping whiskey and tucking important papers inside their eastern styled suits, while the barkeep struggled to keep their glasses filled and their spittoons empty. It was raunchy, dirty, sweaty, and smoky. It was also full of life, passion, risk, and excitement.
    Amanda was mesmerized.
    Taking a seat at one of the small round tables, she scrambled for her bag and retrieved a thick notebook. Her hand didn’t seem to move fast enough as she scribbled her impression