Wild Is the Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

Amanda peered out from beneath the table where the owl rustled furiously.
    “How do I know? I didn’t ask for a calling card. You’re not wanted or anything, are you?”
    “No!” Amanda said indignantly. “I—”
    The pot crashed to the floor, spinning from the force of a lead bullet. Conversation ceased as Luke struggled desperately to fight off their invisible attackers. Amanda took one stunned look at the pot, then crept across the floor to join him at the window.
    “I can help you load.” She withdrew the bullets, placing them in a convenient location near his left hand. He was about to correct her when he saw that it was easier this way, that it eliminated a movement and a fraction of a second that could mean a life. Scooping up the bullets, he then shoved them into the gun, talking almost to himself.
    “It’s not Indians. Thank God for that. Though who the hell would be shooting at us now…” Picking off a gunman that appeared into view, Luke’s voice deepened and he whistled. “Damn if that doesn’t look like Butch Winters. Part of the Haskwell gang.”
    “Why would they come back?”
    “Doesn’t make sense to me. They got the money and the jewelry. It’s damned foolishness on their part.” Squeezing the trigger, he neatly shot another outlaw, this one within twenty feet of the building.
    Amanda paled, then rose to her knees and peered out the window. She could barely see the gunmen, but something about them did seem familiar. No sooner did they spot her when the gunfire erupted into a blaze of fury, and Luke flung her to the floor like a sack of oatmeal.
    “You trying to get killed?” The gunfire roared, and in desperation, he fired back, wondering what it all meant. Amanda lay on the floor, breathless, more frightened than even the day before. Then there had been a train full of people to help fight the outlaws off. Now, for some ungodly reason, they were back, and she was alone with no one to help her but the southern gunman who had every reason to despise her.
    Forcing down her emotions and the renewed queasiness in her stomach, she made herself think. Outlaws. The train. Rising to her knees, she took care to stay well away from the window and she spoke excitedly, her strange eyes gleaming.
    “The train! The nine-fifteen should be here shortly.”
    “Great.” Luke replied, still firing into the woods. “Maybe we could all take a nice trip to Denver.”
    “You don’t understand,” Amanda said in frustration. “The abandoned car is still on the track. When the train collides with it, we’ll have a chance to escape.”
    The escape part caught his attention. As Luke reloaded, he had to admit her plan had merit. It seemed even more plausible when the train whistle blew a few minutes later. The iron horse plunged between them and the outlaws, acting as an effective metallic screen from the gunfire. Normally, the delay would have only lasted a few moments, but the loud crash that followed gave them the perfect opportunity, and neither one of them had any desire to waste it.
    “Let’s go.” Luke grabbed her hand, quelling his frustration when she stopped for the carpetbag and the owl, then scrambled out the door with him. A supply trail led directly behind the restaurant and into the woods. Luke drove her mercilessly down the path, knowing full well that the outlaws would be upon them within a few minutes. Amanda struggled breathlessly, still trying to carry the carpetbag and the cage and run at the same time. Luke saw her effort and snatched up the cage with an oath, then dragged her deeper into the woods. He didn’t stop until they came to a rusted and abandoned train track, and on it was, unbelievably, a deserted handcar.
    “Great.” Luke helped Amanda up, onto the rusted cart, then placed Aesop safely in the center. Amanda put her carpetbag aside, then stared at the apparatus.
    “Grab the other end.” Luke shook his head in disbelief. The woman was worse than a cloistered nun.