This bouquet, even more sizable and elaborate than the first, complete blocked the messenger’s face and his identity. But only for an instant. Only long enough for him to gain entrance.
“Here, if you must be delivering what someone else has sent—” she began in a weary voice, reaching out.
“Oaf, is it?” growled Quinn Hennessey, casting aside the blooms in order to grab hold of the girl’s outstretched hand.
Molly screamed. It was her nightmare come true, what had kept her awake nights with restless dreams of the impossible happening—Hennessey, in a more foul mood than ever, had returned to reclaim his wife. Desperately she tried to pull free, but he was already inside the room and slamming the door shut behind him.
At the first cry of distress, at the first glimpse of skirmish, Camellia, needlework thrown aside, was instantly on her feet and rushing toward her sister. She was stopped mid-step by the very large and very imposing Colt Revolver that had suddenly appeared in Quinn’s hard-fisted grasp.
“Hello, dear sister-in-law,” he greeted her sardonically, with what seemed to be a grimace under the devilish beard. “As you see, I’ve finally come to reclaim my bride.”
“Noooooo!” Shrieking and struggling madly against the clenched grip that held her fast, Molly’s lunge for freedom managed only to further infuriate her captor and painfully sprain her wrist.
“Be quiet, you despicable little harpy,” hissed Quinn, roughly dragging her closer. She fell against the embroidered height and width of his vest, like a butterfly splatted tight to some immovable object, and hung there helplessly. “You’ve caused me so much trouble! Hauled to the jail like some common criminal, questioned and harassed by Winslow and his men. Such treatment was degrading, and entirely due to you!”
“Quinn.” Camellia, her heart hammering with an almost audible beat, spoke quietly in the hope of injecting reason into this horrifying scene. “Quinn, no one wanted to cause trouble for you. Please, release Molly, and let’s sit and talk like rational human beings. I’ll make some coffee, and we can—”
The man rasped out some savage oath. “And have you put poison in what I drink? No, thanks!”
Camellia’s fingers, hidden in the folds of her skirt, tightened imperceptibly. Had this raving lunatic now taken to reading minds? There was, of course, that bottle of laudanum tucked safely away in the cupboard. Too much of a dose, and who knew what might happen?
“No, I’m sure you mean well, Camellia—” a burst of derisive laughter at that, “—and your hospitality is already famous in this town. But I’ll pass for now, thank you. Molly and I have more important matters to pursue.”
With another furious agonized attempt to pull free, Molly hissed and spat at him like an antagonized kitten. “Never with you. Never again. Go away, Quinn, and leave me alone. Leave all of us alone!”
“Aw, now, Molly, sweetheart, you don’t really mean that. You’re my wife. I’m leaving town shortly, and I plan to take you with me.” Once again the revolver came into play, as a show of bravado, wavering slightly but taking aim at her sister standing straight and tall and silent—lest any movement of hers might further provoke the intruder—in the center of the room.
Every drop of blood in Molly’s veins ran cold. “You’ve been drinking. You’ve been drinking—a lot.”
“Why, yes, my dear, I have had a few drops or so. Just to help me through the day. And all paid for out of my own earnings, I must tell you: leftovers of the poker game from which I was so summarily evicted.”
“I’m sorry you feel that things have gone so wrong for you,” Camellia managed to unstick her tongue from the dry roof of her mouth to commiserate. “But there’s nothing so awful that a good talk between family members can’t—”
“Are you deaf, woman?” Quinn snapped out. “No more talk, I’m done talking. And I’m done with this precious family of yours. Other than the one member that belongs to me. Sit down, Molly.” And before she realized his intention, or could react, he had flung her bodily into the nearest chair with the handgun’s barrel shoved into her side. “You, too, Camellia. Sit down. Be comfortable.”
“Is it money you want? I don’t have much, but I can—”
/> “Oh, your spare cash, and whatever jewelry you might have left, will certainly be a bonus. Don’t worry, I mean to help myself before we depart.”
“Quinn, please be reasonable.” Camellia, feeling already a prisoner in her upholstered armchair, begged for time and logic. ”You can’t possibly go anywhere in this kind of weather. There’s been so much rain, and now so much mud, that the roads are just about impassible.”
She had never, fortunately, been forced to witness his immediate and frightening flush of temper, springing up out of nowhere like a violent summer storm. Until now. Now she saw the full force of his rage, being vented upon two virtually helpless women, and realized what terror poor Molly must have endured at this man’s uncaring hands.
Revolver now aimed directly at Camellia, Quinn ordered her in low, deadly tones to shut up immediately or be shut up forever. Trembling, she shrank back and nodded.
“You see,” he continued, almost pleasantly, as if he must explain his actions, “it’s no matter to me whether I leave you here bound and gagged but still alive, or dead and bleeding on the floor. One more murder, what’s that? I’ve done enough of those, and more. You and your high-and-mighty family missed a few details of my background, Mrs. Forrester. A shame for you, isn’t it?”
His grin, through that spade-shaped beard, shone so hideously that Camellia, momentarily overcome, closed her eyes in despair.
“Things were getting a bit—dicey—back in that little hole-in-the-water, Prairie Spring. Wanted posters, and so on. Pesky details getting out, like my description and lifestyle. I could feel the law breathing down my neck. So—I decamped. And how better a way to cover my tracks than as a married man, with a new bride and a new name?”
He shrugged one elegant shoulder, in a way that once might have been seen as charming and lackadaisical.
Camellia couldn’t help risking a question. “But why come back? From here on, why bother with Molly at all? Surely she will only be a useless weight in whatever you’re—”
“Shut up! I told you to just shut up! You want to see what my aim is like, from three feet away? You want to find out what pain is like, when you’ve been shot full of holes?”
“Quinn, no!” Molly cried in anguish. “Leave her alone, please. I’ll do whatever you want, go wherever you want. Just—please... don’t hurt my sister.”