Wild Is the Night (38 page)

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 read 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.