Birds of a Feather

Molly

Molly was sitting in the corner of the piano room when the door shot open and Arthur came striding in, a woman of mysterious origins in his arms. Any other man in this camp and she'd have suspected a possible kidnapping. But this was Arthur.

He was quickly followed by that crow Grimshaw, Tilly and Mary-Beth. None of them noticed her. Grimshaw ordered the girls about and they went on their way, tittering about the woman.

Arthur and Grimshaw were upstairs for a few more minutes before she eventually heard Arthur's heavy footsteps on the stairs.

Molly stood and approached him when he reached the bottom. "What's goin' on, Arthur?"

He hesitated and spared a brief look up the stairs. "It ain't nothin'. Don't worry about it."

Arthur turned and went out of the house. She narrowed her eyes on his back. That's how it was gonna be then. She hated when people kept secrets from her.

Tilly was back in with an armful of supplies. Molly didn't offer to help, but she did follow the girl up the stairs. Tilly went straight for Arthur's room, getting into a discussion with Grimshaw.

Molly stopped at the top as she wasn't sure what she'd see. Whether the woman was injured or not, Molly didn't want to find out firsthand. She didn't much care for the sight of blood. She'd seen enough of it that night in Blackwater from poor Jenny Kirk's gunshot wound.

They'd lost the Callander boys that night too. But violent Mac and handsy Davey were no sorry loss in her mind. Dutch had promised her after that night they wouldn't lose anyone else that way.

She trusted his word until Sean had been killed unexpectedly. However, Kieran's death had actually scared Molly the most. She hadn't liked neither one of them much personally, but Kieran hadn't been killed like the others. He'd been taken and no one had been the wiser 'til his corpse had ridden in on a horse.

Molly shuddered. Gang members were dropping like flies and her nerves couldn't handle it. She wanted Dutch to console her, to confidently tell her all would be well. But he wouldn't spare her the time for a proper conversation and she didn't know why. The few moments when she did finally have his ear, she'd been too hot from hunting him down all day to speak without temper. She didn't appreciate his snide comments either.

"Did you get a good look at her?"

Molly startled as Mary-Beth came up behind her. She answered loftily, "I have not. Who is she?"

"I don't know. Only that I heard Arthur call her Charlotte." Mary-Beth's eyes went dreamy. "But you shoulda seen Arthur tearing up the lane on his horse, a maiden cradled in his arms like a prince in a fairy tale."

Molly crinkled her nose. "He ain't no prince."

Mary-Beth smiled at her. "Don't you have any sense of romance, Miss O'Shea?"

"Not anymore," she muttered.

Tilly was leaving the room now and joined them.

"How is she?" Mary-Beth asked.

Tilly shrugged. "I couldn't say and Miss Grimshaw don't want us anywhere near."

Mary-Beth clasped her hands together. "I wonder who she is."

Tilly moved past them, going downstairs and Mary-Beth followed. "Miss Grimshaw says she's a proper lady."

A proper lady? Molly's interest piqued. If that was the case, she wanted her own look at this Charlotte. In fact, she wanted more than a look. She wanted to speak to this woman. It'd been ages since she'd had a conversation with someone worthy of own status.