Susan Amarillas - Wyoming Renegade

Still there was a certain mischievous thrill about intimidating a man who looked so formidable. The fact that she was in a public place with help, she hoped, within earshot, bolstered her confidence. “One never knows…about husbands. They’re apt to turn up at any moment.”

“Ah.” He put the bags on the floor between them, one carpetbag sagging against her skirt. He lounged casually against the counter. “So I should be prepared to be called out?”

“Could be,” she replied, and hoped he didn’t notice the glint of amusement in her eyes.

She couldn’t miss the spark in his eyes, and it wasn’t amusement, that was for darned sure. No, that look was hotter than August in New Orleans and just as sultry. Her experience with men might be limited, but even a girl of fourteen would recognize the look.

She tore her gaze away, focused on a spot of chipped paint on the wall behind the desk and said, “Now, where’s that desk clerk? Never one around when you need—”

A man came careening around the doorway, speaking as he moved. “I found the pens I was looking for,” He waved a couple of pens and lurched to a halt when he spotted her.

“Are you speaking to me?” A bit confused, she glanced from the clerk to Josh and back again.

“No, ma’am. Sorry,” the clerk said. “I was looking for a pen for Mr….”

“Colter,” Josh supplied for the second time.

There was a moment of awkward silence, then Josh said, “Please.” He made a small gesture toward the register with his hand. “After you.” He took the pen from the clerk and offered it to her like a chevalier offering his sword.

“Thank you.”

She scribbled her name and Eddie’s, whom she’d sent on to the livery with the horses and wagon. He’d join her later for dinner.

“How long will you be staying?” The desk clerk asked the standard question.

“One night, I think. Maybe two. I’m not exactly certain.”

She’d thought she’d be here longer, maybe spend a few days in the area making sketches and, of course, visiting with her favorite brother. But, no, leave it to Davy to complicate matters. How could he have quit like that and then taken off for parts unknown? Now she not only had to complete her sketches for the competition but she had to find her brother, hopefully before her father got the news of Davy’s latest exploits.

Please don’t let Davy be in trouble.

She dropped the pen into the holder. “I’ll need two rooms. One room for me and one for my traveling companion. He’ll be along soon.” She added that traveling companion part deliberately. She enjoyed a bit of mystery, a bit of being… a touch risqué. Too long in Paris, she supposed.

“Yes, ma’am,” the clerk said casually, and she was disappointed at his lack of shock. Evidently things were more relaxed on the frontier.

He removed two keys from the brass hooks behind the desk. “Rooms 5 and 6. I’ll bring up the bags as soon as I finish with Mr. Colter.”

“Anytime is fine.”

“The rooms are connecting, if you—”

“Thank you.” She cut him off, seeing no need to explain herself or her traveling arrangements to anyone, particularly a tall, dark man who was taking this all in with undisguised interest.

“So, there is a husband, after all,” Josh said softly, his expression suddenly serious.

“And if there were?”

“I’d be disappointed. Of course, if you were my wife—” he let his gaze travel blatantly down the length of her and back again “—I would never ask for two rooms.”

Heat moved up her neck and skidded to a halt on her cheeks. She knew about sexual banter from her encounters with men in Paris, but she was getting in over her head here, and much as she hated to retreat, there was a time to fall back and regroup. This was definitely one of those times.

“If you’ll excuse me.” She kept exactly the right amount of aloofness in her voice.

She had one foot on the bottom stair when his voice stopped her.

“Then I’ll see you for dinner?”

“I think not.”

“Well, I have to eat and you have to eat and there is only one dining room, so unless you’re planning to eat in the saloon…” He arched one brow in question. “Besides, I’m looking forward to meeting your husband. He’s a lucky man.”

How could she not smile. “Good evening, Mr. Colter.”

Josh watched her go. The woman was something: beautiful, tempting and fun. Yes, fun, he realized with a start. He didn’t believe for a minute there was a husband, or, at least, he was hoping like hell there was no husband. He was banking on what he’d said earlier. No man who had her for a wife would willingly sleep alone. So who was the other room for? He didn’t know—sister, mother, brother—and he didn’t care. These past few minutes with her, he’d felt more like himself, more like the old Josh, than he had in weeks. A grin lingered on his lips when he turned back to register.

“You’re in Room 2, Mr. Colter,” the clerk prompted.

“What? Oh, thanks.” He reached for the pen when her whiskey-rich voice stopped him.

“Excuse me.”

Both men looked up. She was poised on the staircase, looking quite regal, he thought, even with that damn hat.

“I understand David Gibson had a room here. Is that right?”

Her words sliced through him like a lightning bolt. He must have heard her wrong. He went very still. Wariness coiled in the pit of his stomach. His gaze was riveted on the woman at the top of the stairs.

“Yes,” the clerk said. “Mr. Gibson did stay here, but he left some time ago. I can look it up if you want to know exactly.”

What the hell was going on? Josh wanted to ask, but didn’t, couldn’t, all things considered. He had no choice but to clamp his jaw down—hard, so hard his back teeth hurt.

She continued. “I was wondering if you knew where Davy…Mr. Gibson went?” Her brows were pulled down, her sensuous mouth curved in a thoughtful frown.

Davy, huh? Josh’s fingers closed into a fist.

The desk clerk said, “Mr. Gibson didn’t say anything. Just packed up and left.”

“Ah,” she muttered, looking disappointed.

The clerk spoke up. “Well, there was…”

“What?” She came down a step.

“Mr. Gibson came in with two other men and, as they were leaving, I heard him tell the others that he knew someone who might give them work…cowboying, I think he said.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m trying to think where…” He made a clicking sound in the back of his throat. He shook his head, signifying his failure to remember.

That noose knot in Josh’s stomach drew in tighter. This was going from bad to worse.

Then something sparked in her face, her eyes—recognition, understanding perhaps. “You did say cowboying, didn’t you?” she prompted, her head cocked to one side. “Not something else, like gambling or—”

“Cowboying. I’m certain.”

“Cowboying? You’re absolutely sure?”

“Yes. I told you.” Impatience tinged his voice. “Somewhere up north, I think.”

She grinned. “Thank you very much. You’ve been a big help.”

She spared Josh some of that smile, then turned and practically raced up the stairs.

Josh dragged in a breath that didn’t do a thing to quell the frantic beating of his heart. What the hell kind of cryptic conversation was that? Whatever it was, two things were clear. The woman was somehow involved with Gibson, and she knew, or thought she knew, where he’d gone. That was all Josh needed to know. He was nearly to the stairs when the clerk called to him.

“Mr. Colter, you didn’t register.”

Who the hell cared about registering now! But he figured it was faster to go along than to argue. He grabbed the pen and dragged the register closer to him. Halfway through writing his name, he paused to read the signature above his—her signature. It was then he realized she’d never introduced herself. It was then his world took a sudden tip to the left as he read and reread the name written there.