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patient. “I just don’t understand it,” he said softly.
    Hank moved on to his room, still unnoticed. His curiosity was thoroughly aroused again, yet he knew that Tom would never admit to being shot five times by a slip of a girl. Ah, well, it wasn’t Hank’s business. And he was not fool enough to question the girl. He would ask no questions of a lady who could shoot so well—orso badly. And it might have been either one. Either she had aimed way off while trying to hurt Tom, or she’d been a superb shot. Hank shrugged. He’d probably never know which it was.

Chapter 3
    S AMANTHA was still crying into her pillow when a deputy of the law knocked on her door. She wasn’t at all prepared for Mr. Floyd Ruger, not in her emotional state. A man with a much-too-serious face, he threw one question after another at her without giving her a chance to think before she answered.
    “Your name, Miss?”
    “Samantha Blackstone Kingsley.”
    “That’s an unusual middle name.”
    “Well, it was my mother’s family name. I didn’t even know my father’s name until—”
    “It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted. “Where are you from?”
    “Back East.”
    “Where?”
    “Is that any of your business?” Having been rebuffed, Samantha wasn’t going to offer any more information.
    Without batting an eye, Ruger repeated, “Where?”
    She sighed. “I was attending school in Philadelphia, if you must know.”
    “Philadelphia is your home?”
    “No. I only went to school there.”
    Ruger sighed pointedly in turn. “Your home is where, then?”
    “Northern Mexico.”
    He raised a brow. “But you’re not Mexican.” He seemed startled.
    “You noticed, did you?”

    He ignored her sarcasm and asked, “Will you be staying in Denver?”
    “No, Mr. Ruger, I’m just passing through on my way home,” she replied impatiently. “And I don’t see the need for all these questions.”
    Again he ignored her. “It’s been reported that you shot a man. Is that true?”
    Samantha’s eyes narrowed. She had known what he was there for.
    “I don’t think I’ll tell you.”
    Floyd Ruger gazed at her intently. “You don’t think you’ll tell me? Now see here, Miss Kingsley—”
    “No, you see here!” she snapped. “I haven’t committed any crime. And I’m in no mood to answer ridiculous questions. I would like it very much if you would leave, Mr. Ruger.”
    At that moment, Jeannette Allston walked into their suite, followed closely by Adrien. Jeannette had a look of concern about her, but Adrien simply looked shocked. Samantha had known he would be.
    It infuriated her, and she glared at him. “So! You finally decided to get here.”
    “They said downstairs that you have shot a man,” Adrien said, incredulous. “Is this true?”
    She could see Mr. Ruger watching her keenly. It was too much. It really was.
    “I’ll explain later,” Samantha said stiffly to Adrien. “As for you, Mr. Ruger, I have no more answers. If the man I am supposed to have shot dies, then I will be happy to answer your questions.”
    “I insist on his name, Miss Kingsley, at the very least,” Ruger returned.
    “Who says I know him? Perhaps he was a stranger.”
    “Or a close friend,” Ruger insinuated.
    Samantha’s eyes flashed emerald fire. “I don’t shoot my friends, Mr. Ruger. If it will put an end to this, I will tell you that the man forced his way in here andwouldn’t leave me alone. I was protecting myself. I was all alone.”
    “Protecting yourself by shooting him five times?”
    “Five!” Adrien gasped and fell into a chair.
    Samantha shouted at the deputy. “I’ve had enough! You have no business here. Good day!”
    After Floyd Ruger left, there was utter silence. Samantha stared at Adrien. He seemed to be in shock. What kind of man was he to react that way? He was ridiculous. He should be comforting her, she thought, not sitting there looking like he needed comforting himself.
    “Ah, chérie , what you must have