of everything. God, this was so great. Taking a deep breath, she recorded the musty, smoky scent of the room, the smell of sweat, the odor of cattle, the excitement that was almost tangible. She had written so many bar scenes just like this one, and to actually be in one was like walking inside one of her novels. The point broke on her pencil and she frowned in frustration. Amanda tossed it back inside the open carpetbag beside her and fished around for another. When her head popped up from beneath the table, she was surprised to see she was not alone.
“Excuse me, ma’am. But are you lost or something?”
Amanda glanced up, surprised to see the bartender staring at her oddly. She shook her head. “No, I’m in the saloon. I’m not lost in the least.” She returned to her scribbling, ignoring him.
The barkeep scratched his head. “Ma’am, we’re not accustomed to ladies coming in here, if you know what I mean. There’s a restaurant next door, if you want something to drink.”
“Oh, I’m not thirsty. And I’m very sorry, but you’re wrong. There are ladies here.” She gestured to a buxom blonde saloon girl, who giggled from a cowboy’s lap.
The barkeep coughed, then continued delicately. “Ma’am, that’s real generous of you, but they ain’t ladies. You’d best leave. There could be trouble.” He glanced at the nearby tables where the interested cowboys and businessmen listened to the exchange in amusement.
“What sort of trouble?” Amanda leaned on her elbows, fascinated with the prospect.
“Well, um. Men can’t let loose and have fun with real ladies around. It puts a damper on things. And some of these cowboys haven’t had a woman in a long time. They get pretty rough when they’re full of whiskey. I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable next door.”
“Thank you, you are so kind, but I am perfectly comfortable here,” Amanda continued. “And I find your argument very faulty. With all the saloon women around, why would my presence incite a cowboy when there is a ready receptacle for his passion at hand? And I fail to see how my presence can have any effect on their activity, since I do not wish to prevent it, partake of it, or comment on it. I only wish to observe.”
“Out!” The barkeep fought to keep his temper under control as the men nearby chuckled. “Madame, I must ask you to leave.”
“I’ll have to refuse,” Amanda said bluntly. “This is a public place, and I wish to remain.”
“Damn you!” The barkeep’s eyes hardened, as if trying to decide whether to physically toss her out or to drag her across the floor. “Who’s here with you? You got a husband or a brother?”
Before Amanda could respond, a cowhand interrupted. “She showed up in town this morning with a hired gun. Luke’s his name, as I recall.”
“Luke?” The cowhand spoke up. “There’s a fellow named Luke playing poker in the back. Big, with dark hair. Looks like a gun.”
“Fetch him.” The sheriff waited until the cowhand left, then leaned closer to Amanda. “Now you’d better come peaceably ma’am. This ain’t no place for a lady…”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t yet. I’ve not finished my work.”
“This him?” The cowhand indicated a tall man behind him, and Amanda’s eyes widened as Luke strode forth, looking anything but pleased to see her.
“It’s me. I’ll handle this. Amanda, come with me.”
Amanda’s smile vanished as Luke glared at her. He was angry. She could see the set of his jaw, the glittering tension in his eyes, and his gritted teeth. Shrugging, Amanda shook her head in calm rebuttal.
“As I’ve already explained, I see no reason why I cannot remain. I’m a writer. I need to see this, to experience life. As Emerson said—”
“Amanda.” Luke cut her off before he killed her. He stared at her thoughtfully, while the cowboys and the barkeep waited to see this lean, dangerous man put the woman in her place. Amanda stared up at him
“Excuse me, ma’am. But are you lost or something?”
Amanda glanced up, surprised to see the bartender staring at her oddly. She shook her head. “No, I’m in the saloon. I’m not lost in the least.” She returned to her scribbling, ignoring him.
The barkeep scratched his head. “Ma’am, we’re not accustomed to ladies coming in here, if you know what I mean. There’s a restaurant next door, if you want something to drink.”
“Oh, I’m not thirsty. And I’m very sorry, but you’re wrong. There are ladies here.” She gestured to a buxom blonde saloon girl, who giggled from a cowboy’s lap.
The barkeep coughed, then continued delicately. “Ma’am, that’s real generous of you, but they ain’t ladies. You’d best leave. There could be trouble.” He glanced at the nearby tables where the interested cowboys and businessmen listened to the exchange in amusement.
“What sort of trouble?” Amanda leaned on her elbows, fascinated with the prospect.
“Well, um. Men can’t let loose and have fun with real ladies around. It puts a damper on things. And some of these cowboys haven’t had a woman in a long time. They get pretty rough when they’re full of whiskey. I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable next door.”
“Thank you, you are so kind, but I am perfectly comfortable here,” Amanda continued. “And I find your argument very faulty. With all the saloon women around, why would my presence incite a cowboy when there is a ready receptacle for his passion at hand? And I fail to see how my presence can have any effect on their activity, since I do not wish to prevent it, partake of it, or comment on it. I only wish to observe.”
“Out!” The barkeep fought to keep his temper under control as the men nearby chuckled. “Madame, I must ask you to leave.”
“I’ll have to refuse,” Amanda said bluntly. “This is a public place, and I wish to remain.”
“Damn you!” The barkeep’s eyes hardened, as if trying to decide whether to physically toss her out or to drag her across the floor. “Who’s here with you? You got a husband or a brother?”
Before Amanda could respond, a cowhand interrupted. “She showed up in town this morning with a hired gun. Luke’s his name, as I recall.”
“Luke?” The cowhand spoke up. “There’s a fellow named Luke playing poker in the back. Big, with dark hair. Looks like a gun.”
“Fetch him.” The sheriff waited until the cowhand left, then leaned closer to Amanda. “Now you’d better come peaceably ma’am. This ain’t no place for a lady…”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t yet. I’ve not finished my work.”
“This him?” The cowhand indicated a tall man behind him, and Amanda’s eyes widened as Luke strode forth, looking anything but pleased to see her.
“It’s me. I’ll handle this. Amanda, come with me.”
Amanda’s smile vanished as Luke glared at her. He was angry. She could see the set of his jaw, the glittering tension in his eyes, and his gritted teeth. Shrugging, Amanda shook her head in calm rebuttal.
“As I’ve already explained, I see no reason why I cannot remain. I’m a writer. I need to see this, to experience life. As Emerson said—”
“Amanda.” Luke cut her off before he killed her. He stared at her thoughtfully, while the cowboys and the barkeep waited to see this lean, dangerous man put the woman in her place. Amanda stared up at him
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