Chapter 24
It was full dark now. Gordon left Josh to deal with the bodies and headed down to the cart, his heart still pounding from the panic that had consumed him at the sound of the gunshots. He barely remembered telling Peter to look after Trey as he bolted from the cart, unlocked the door, and raced up the stairway, Josh half a dozen steps behind him. The shattered door signaled that disaster had struck.
When he’d entered and seen Callie covered with blood, he’d felt his heart die inside him. He’d never forget the overwhelming relief of finding that she was unhurt, but her devastated shock was bad enough. Her hands had been icy when he sat her down and tried to warm them.
She’d rallied when he said he needed to help Trey, but she was deeply shaken. She would always do what was needed, but she had the soul of a nurturer, not a killer.
When he reached the street, Trey was struggling against Peter’s attempts to keep him in the cart. “What happened?” he asked frantically. “Is my family all right?”
“Everyone’s safe.” He glanced at Peter, wondering how much he should say in front of someone who wasn’t family.
Guessing his thoughts, Peter said in a low, very adult voice, “I am a Carroll of Carrollton and I will do anything to protect Molly and Trey. If there are secrets, they are safe with me.”
Gordon gave a short nod of acknowledgment. “Trey, your half brother, Henry, broke in with two thugs. Callie, Molly, and Sarah fought them off.”
Trey blinked uncertainly. “Fought them off . . . ?”
“All three are dead,” Gordon said bluntly. To Peter, he said, “You’re part of this now. Tether the horses and we’ll take Trey upstairs. You can learn the whole story there.”
Peter nodded and secured cart and horses after Gordon helped Trey out. Though Peter kept his injured arm in the sling most of the time, he was able to do some things when necessary, such as bring up the two rifles. A good lad.
Since Trey could barely walk, Gordon locked an arm around his waist and half carried him up the narrow stairwell. The boy gasped from the pain when his injured leg was jostled, but he kept moving upward, hauling some of his weight by using the railing.
Finally they reached the living quarters, which were bright with lantern light and welcome. Sarah had already made up the bed in the men’s dormitory for her grandson, and she ordered, “Bring my boy here!” when they entered the sitting room.
Trey almost wept with gratitude when he was lowered onto the mattress and could roll into Sarah’s soft, welcoming arms. She silently shooed everyone else out and rocked Trey as if he were an infant, crooning words of comfort as she stroked his back.
Gordon and Peter wearily returned to the main room and found that Josh had dragged the bodies against a wall and covered them with a blanket. Molly was setting the dining table with food and drink, but she turned and came straight into Peter’s arms. “Thank you for saving my brother!”
“I’m glad I was there to help him.” He hugged her back and it was a mutual embrace of much more than gratitude.
Gordon had suspected that there was a strong attraction between the two, and that was now confirmed. They were both young, but if they developed a lasting attachment, it would establish Molly for life; Gordon had been in Baltimore long enough to know that the Carrolls were one of the first families of Maryland. Charles Carroll—Peter’s grandfather, perhaps?—was a signer of the American Declaration of Independence and said to be the richest man in America.
Wealth usually married wealth, but Molly was beautiful, kind, intelligent—and the death of Henry Newell changed her financial situation dramatically. Now she and her brother would be heirs to the Newell estate. Given Gordon’s skill at forgery, he’d make sure of that. Molly would be an heiress.
Since when had Gordon started thinking like a matchmaking mother?
Tactfully overlooking the embrace, he said, “Thanks for bringing out the bottle of good brandy I bought a couple of days ago, Molly. I think we all could use some.”
“I certainly can.” Callie emerged from the women’s bedroom looking pale and shaky but under control. She’d washed off the blood and changed her dress and seemed almost normal, unless one looked at her eyes.
With difficulty, he refrained from embracing her since that might undermine her fragile control. “How are you managing?”
Her smile was crooked but genuine. “We’re all alive and unhurt, and Henry and his brutes are dead. I consider that the best possible outcome.” Her gaze went to the covered pile of bodies and she swallowed hard. “Now we must decide what to do with the . . . the remains.”
“I have some ideas for that, but first, nerve tonic.” Gordon poured brandy into the half dozen small glasses Molly produced. He tossed his off in one gulp and poured another. If the bottle were big enough, he’d have crawled inside and drunk it dry. Callie didn’t drink quite as quickly, but was ready for a refill rather soon.
Molly choked a little on hers, but the spirits seemed to steady her. She said, “Now we eat. We’ll think more clearly then.”
Josh smiled fondly. “You’re just like your grandma.”
She gave a shy smile of thanks and brought in a serving platter of sliced ham and cheeses, then a pot of steaming soup with bowls, a large loaf of bread, and a pitcher of her lemonade. Gordon realized he was ravenous, and so were Josh and Peter. Callie and Molly tucked into the food also and Callie started to look less pale.
Sarah joined them a few minutes later. “Trey is sleeping. He’ll be fine, I think.” She sank wearily into the chair next to her husband and he efficiently filled a plate for her.
This was what family should be, Gordon realized. This sharing and consideration were nothing like the tense, miserable meals of his own childhood.
Molly finished first, then talked Peter out of his uniform jacket. While the men had been retrieving Trey, she’d washed the blood from the right sleeve, which had been taken off and turned into an improvised sling. Now that man, jacket, and sleeve were all in the same place, she started neatly reattaching the sleeve. Peter stared as if he’d never get enough of watching her.
