Fred chuckled.“Ugly sons of bitches, ain’t they?”
“I guess.”
“That’s how the creek got named, they say.Then the town after that.I picture some old prospector waking up in the middle of the night with one of those suckers sitting right by his nose.Musta scared the crap outta him.”
Quinn swallowed.“Yeah, probably.I bet you don’t see them much anymore, though.Like in the bunkhouse and stuff.”
“Oh, sure, we do.This place was built in nineteen-ten, and it’s not real tight.We get all kinds of critters in here.Last week it was a small rattlesnake.”
“No kidding?”Quinn realized his voice had squeaked and deliberately lowered it.“That’s interesting.”
“You’re turning into a regular chatterbox, aren’t you, Quinn?I thought you said you was real tired.”
“I am.Good night.”Quinn didn’t want to discuss critters with Fred anymore.He lay there wondering what he was doing surrounded by poisonous snakes and ugly bugs.In Manhattan he could swim with the sharks, or face a bear market without blinking.In Manhattan he could be a hero.
But Jo wasn’t in Manhattan.She was in Montana, and so, for the moment, he had to do his best to be a hero in Montana.
He stared at his watch and willed Fred to go to sleep.Not only did he want to slip out of the bunkhouse so he could meet Jo, he also wanted to spend the night somewhere besides a place with cracks big enough to drive a truck through, or at least a herd of wolf spiders.
After what seemed like eternity squared, Fred began to snore in his chair.Quinn leaned over and checked the floor before swinging his feet down.He dressed in record time but left his boots off.He took the blanket off the spare bed and rolled it up before arranging it under his own blanket to approximate the bulk of a person lying in the bed.Then he padded to the dresser.
The top two drawers belonged to Fred.Quinn figured the top drawer was his best bet.He eased it open and felt cautiously among the socks, briefs and T-shirts.Nothing.Finally, in a back corner, his fingers closed over some foil packets.
He counted four.Decided to take two.If and when Fred discovered the loss, he might chalk it up to losing track of his inventory.Feeling like a seventeen-year-old raiding his dad’s supply, Quinn shoved the condoms in his pocket with a little prayer that they were the right size.
There was just enough light from the lamp on the table for him to see a shadowy version of himself in the rippled old mirror over the dresser.He put on his Stetson, gave it a rakish tilt and headed out carrying his boots.He would have given his best Armani suit for a flashlight.
ChapterTwenty
Jo changed clothes eleven times between ten o’clock and ten forty-five.Quinn was probably used to fancy lingerie and soft little dresses that came undone with a quick pull on an invisible tie.At least that was the way Jo imagined a Manhattan woman dressed for a late-night meeting with a lover.
She didn’t have anything like that.Cotton underwear made sense when you lived in jeans and Western shirts.In winter she wore thermal long johns, even less romantic.She had exactly two dresses, one full-skirted for dancing and the other a sedate linen thing that buttoned up to her neck.Neither of them qualified for a secret rendezvous.
Dammit, when Quinn looked back on this episode she didn’t want him to think of it as the night he spent with the hayseed.She rummaged through all her drawers, tossing things on the bed.Then she went through her closet one more time, swishing hangers along the rod in her impatience.At the far end of the closet she found a box she couldn’t remember putting there.She opened it and started to laugh.Perfect.
In an abortive attempt to put some romance into her relationship with Dick, she’d bought herself red silk boxers and a chemise.But before she’d had a chance to try them out, Fred had seen Dick kissing a waitress at the Ugly Bug Tavern and forced him to confess he was having an affair.Jo had filed for divorce and had forgotten all about the sexy outfit.
The silk felt good against her bare skin.She’d have to wear something over the outfit, of course, or she’d freeze to death walking to the barn.The slicker hanging by the front door would work.She stood in front of the mirror and admired herself in the red silk while she imagined Quinn’s reaction.Her breath quickened.
Smoothing the material over her breasts, she closed her eyes.She craved his touch so desperately it scared her.Maybe meeting him tonight wasn’t the wisest thing she’d ever done, but logic wasn’t in charge at the moment.Deep in her heart she knew that if she didn’t make love to him before he went back to New York she would regret it for the rest of her life:
She slipped on a pair of sneakers and picked up a folded quilt before creeping downstairs.As she made certain to avoid the steps that squeaked, she shivered as much from excitement as the chill in the air.The house was dark and quiet as she made her way to the front door and took down the slicker.She picked up the flashlight they kept on the entry hall table and reached for the knob of the front door.
As she started to turn it, she felt resistance, as if...as if someone was turning the knob from the other side.
Heart pounding, she stepped away from the door.Maybe Quinn had become impatient and decided to come to the house to get her.After the incident with Benny, he knew they didn’t lock doors at the Bar None.
The door opened, but the man silhouetted by the glow from the porch light wasn’t Quinn.He squinted in the darkness.“Jo, is that you?”
Jo pulled the slicker tight around her and swallowed.“Hi, there, Fred.”
She didn’t know who was more embarrassed, her or Fred.She was glad the light wasn’t very good, because she was sure her face was bright red.They both started a sentence of explanation at the same time, then stopped and stared at each other.
“I, uh, thought I’d get something for my upset stomach,” Fred said, his usual bluster completely gone.
“I...wanted to go check on Betsy.”It was a transparent fib.She’d checked on Betsy two hours ago, and the mare had shown no signs of going into labor.Fred knew that as well as she did.
But he nodded as if that was a brilliant idea.“Sure.”
