He ignored the voice within him telling him he should have made Charlotte return home, that they should have waited for reinforcements. But by dusk, more people could arrive here. As it was now, they were evenly matched.
He glanced over his shoulder at Charlotte. She’d left her cape with the horse for ease of movement, and he’d left his coat behind. The wind was ripping at her gown and at her hair, and yet she did not look afraid. Instead, she nodded encouragingly.
He refocused his attention on the door.
One swift kick should do it.
Three. Two. One.
With every ounce of strength Anthony possessed, he kicked the heel of his boot toward the door’s wooden center. Wood splintering shattered the morning stillness and Anthony rushed, taking an immediate assessment.
One room.
Timmons still at the table.
Rebecca in the corner.
Henry crying.
Anthony aimed his pistol straight at Timmons.
Charlotte raised hers toward Rebecca.
“Do as we say, or we will shoot.” Anthony stomped toward Timmons. “On your feet and against the wall.”
Timmons’s face blanched, and hardness glazed his light-chestnut eyes. He stumbled back, nearly tipping the chair in surprise. His weapon still lay in pieces on the table.
Anthony refused to break his glare on Timmons. “Stand up, Timmons, and against the wall. Now! Rebecca, step away from Henry.”
Rebecca broke into hysterical sobs and inched away from the bed. Timmons, too, did as he was bid, slowly. The noise and movement added to the confusion, but Anthony held firm. From the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte doing the same.
Anthony did not recognize the man standing against the wall. The Timmons he knew—the man who had nursed him to health and who had helped him find employment—never would have deceived anyone. But now, he’d kidnapped a baby.
“Why are you doing this?” Anthony thundered, his anger briefly taking control. “What could you be thinking?”
Timmons scoffed and shook his head. “Ye couldn’t just leave it alone, could ye?”
“This isn’t you, Timmons.Youdon’t do things like this.”
Timmons sneered in the cottage’s dark shadows, like an animal caught in a trap. “Ye don’t know what I’m capable of. Ye may ’ave come out of things unscathed. But me—this was my opportunity t’ right the wrongs I’ve dealt with. I’ll naught let ye ruin this.”
“Tell me what is going on. I’ll find out eventually. You know I will.”
“I’ll tell ye nothin’.” Timmons seethed. “So go ahead and do your little investigatin’. Play t’ role of thief-taker and learn what ye can. But in t’ end, ye may be able to stop me, but ye won’t be able t’ stop’im.”
Anthony jerked. “Stop whom?”
“Ye know. And who are ye to question me and my decisions? For ye are no better than I. And if it weren’t for me, ye would ’ave died on that ship. And this is ’ow ye repay me? Ye need t’ leave and t’ stay out of me way.”
Timmons was rambling. His light-brown eyes were bloodshot and wild. His skin was growing splotchy. He was starting to crumble under the weight of whatever caper had brought him to this point.
“Abducting a child is not the way to redemption.” Anthony was powerless to control the harshness in his tone. “I don’t care what you say, you’d never be able to live with yourself if something happened to this baby.”
The color drained from Timmons’s face, and even in the shadowed light, perspiration beaded on his face. “I’ll never be able t’ live with myself regardless o’ what I do. But one word from ’im could restore any of us back t’ a respectable place.”
Anthony winced at the nonsensical words. “What are you talking about?”
Timmons flicked his gaze to Charlotte tying up Rebecca. “Friend or no friend, I let ye stand in my way too long.”
