Lipstick and Lead Series: The Complete Box Set With a Bonus Book

by Sylvia McDaniel

  His friend filled them each a glass and then turned to him. "To you and your beautiful wife. May you have many happy years together."

  They clinked their glasses and sipped the liquor. The burn of the alcohol warmed his throat. "Your wife, is she shy? What's the deal with her? Several times tonight, I caught her watching me like she didn't know for certain whether she liked me."

  If only Will knew. Sometimes she looked at Will that way as well. The woman was as nervous as a colt and he kept reminding himself to tread gently.

  "Quinlan was a mail-order bride my mother picked out for me."

  Shocked, Al spewed his whiskey. "What?" The man jerked toward Will. "That beautiful woman--you are one lucky SOB. If I ordered a bride, she'd be the ugliest hag in the state. Your wife is gorgeous and smart."

  "Yes, but I don't know much about her. At the age of seven, she was taken to an orphanage. Quinlan has never been around men much and sometimes she acts like she's terrified of me."

  Will shook his head. "It's taking everything I've got to take things real slow. Hopefully the next time you come to see us, she'll have faith in me enough to realize I would never hurt her."

  Trust took a while to build. But Will's patience was not as long as it should be. Maybe Quinlan would teach him the good virtue.

  "Do you want me to talk to her? Let me tell her about the time in Kansas you pulled that man off the saloon girl he was beating. You told him for every hit he gave her, you were going to give him double." Smiling, Al shook his head. "That poor fool probably didn't walk for a week."

  Will considered letting his friend talk to Quinlan, but he wanted her to believe in him naturally, if that made any sense. Someone telling her was not the same. Besides, no one other than Al had knowledge of his past and he didn't want to divulge that information.

  "No, let us work things out, eventually she'll come around." Will sipped his whiskey and watched as Al poured himself another. "Tell me about Lee Carver. Where is he?"

  Will was anxious to learn where the leader of the gang that murdered his brother was, the man who almost killed him. Someday he hoped to put the man six feet under.

  Shaking his head, Al pursed his lips together. "Broke out of a San Antonio jail and was last seen in Abilene. Rumor is he's hiding out in Hide Town, Texas. That place where the outlaws keep their families and no decent law man has come out walking and breathing."

  There were towns in Texas where the criminals kept their families safe. And if you screwed up in an outlaw town, you were as good as dead. An honorable person would be wise not to go near one of these rogue communities. Though they had a church, a doctor, saloon, and a restaurant, it wasn’t family friendly.

  "That's a dangerous place," Will said.

  "Money's too good for me to pass up going after that SOB. After he murdered that rancher and raped his wife, the bounty on his head is bigger than ever. We'd be looking at a thousand dollars each if we capture him. After he shot you up in Wichita, I thought you’d want a piece of him."

  And Will did. Had wanted to see him behind bars or hanging with a noose around his neck. With his heart aching, he glanced back at the closed door of the bedroom where a beautiful woman waited for him to join her in bed. His parents came to mind and how they already lost one son, how he nearly died a year ago.

  Was risking his life catching Lee Carver worth it?

  While Will hated the idea of Lee getting away and hurting someone else, this was his honeymoon. Until they were married for a while, he should remain by his wife's side bonding with her and strengthening their relationship. Secrets lay between them they needed to work through. Plus, he promised her he would finish the school.

  Glancing at his friend he sighed, his decision made. "Lee Carver is a despicable human being that I hate with a passion. Sooner or later, someone needs to nail his ass, but it's not going to be me. My place is here with my wife."

  "You're going to walk away from that kind of money?"

  Will chuckled. Al never understood that money wasn’t what drove him to catch outlaws. It was justice. Justice for people who had no one else to defend them. "Two grand will give you a lot of time at home."

  Again, Al took a big swig of whiskey and filled himself another glass, draining the bottle. The man always liked his whiskey. "With all that money, I just might retire and become your next-door neighbor. Find me a beautiful wife, settle down and raise a couple kids. I'm getting too old to be chasing these young bucks who have no respect for life."

  A risky job that came with great monetary rewards, but when almost losing his life, he kind of reassessed what was important. Soon, he prayed Al would hang up his guns and marry a good woman.

  "Eventually, one's going to get you," Will said, remembering how Lee Carver almost ended his life. "I'm not ready to die."

  "Of course, you're not. With that pretty filly sleeping in your bed, you'll soon have some young’uns of your own."

  "Hope so," Will said, setting his glass down, eager to make his way to his wife's side. "When you go after Lee Carver, you be careful, Al. He's a dangerous man with a draw faster than anyone I've ever seen. The man doesn't have a heart. He'll kill you, step over your body without looking back."

  "I hear you, brother, but this could be my last big hunt. This could be the one where I call it quits and find me a beautiful bride like you."

  A smile crossed Will's face. For years, Al talked about giving up bounty hunting, but never did. Pursuing bad men was a hazardous life, and Will knew because he had once ridden with Al.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning after Quinlan rose, she dressed and went into the kitchen portion of the house. The sun shone brightly through the windows, spreading warmth throughout the room. The men were nowhere to be found.

  Walking through the living area searching for Will, she saw the empty bottle sitting on a table. Fear spiraled through her as she lifted the dreaded glass her hands shaking and held it to her nose. Liquor.

  Memories slammed her, her insides quaking with terror. The sound of her father's raised voice, the screams of her mother, her quiet sobbing as she tried to hide.

  The bottle crashed to the floor shattering into a thousand pieces bringing her back to the present.

  The men stayed up last night drinking whiskey. Shaking, she ran into the bedroom.

  She couldn't stay here. She couldn't do this. If Will drank, then he would beat her. Hurrying, she pulled her trunk out of the closet and started throwing her clothes in, not caring how they were packed, just knowing she needed to leave before he returned.

  Where she would go? She had no idea, but how could she stay with a man who would abuse her like her father did her mother?

  Will stepped into the room. In the doorway, he stood gazing at her. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm leaving," she said. "I can't do this. I can't live with a drunk."

  "What are you talking about," he said, walking toward her.

  Quivering so hard, she took a step back, fear consumed her as nausea gripped her stomach. Now the blows would start.

  Will grabbed her arm and she flinched, turning her face away from him. Gently, he pulled her over to the bed and sat her beside him.

  "What happened."

  Licking her lips, she gazed at him, her voice trembling. "There was an empty bottle of whiskey in the living area. You emptied the liquor bottle last night."

  A frown spread across his face. "Al drank most of the bottle, I had one little glass before I came to bed."

  How could she believe him? Once a man started drinking, the bottle would soon be gone.

  With trembling limbs, she took a deep breath. "You didn't get drunk?"

  Watching his face for signs of lying, she was amazed at how he acted insulted that she would suggest such a thing.

  "No, I'm old enough to remember it's not worth the pain the liquor causes in the morning," he said, gazing at her. He placed his finger beneath her chin and lifted it so she had to look him in the eyes. "Would it hav
e mattered if I had too much to drink."

  "Yes," she gasped, trembling uncontrollably.

  Staring at her, he said, "You're shaking."

  He sat holding her hands gazing at her like he wanted to understand. The man wasn't hitting her. All he did was hold her hands and talk to her. What was he doing?

  "Because you thought I had gotten drunk, you were going to leave," he said slowly glancing around at the clothes she tossed into the trunk.

  "Yes," she said trying to calm the tremors racking her body.

  "Did someone you know drink too much? Is that why you're so frightened of alcohol?"

  Biting her lip, she didn't want to tell him, but maybe he should understand why she reacted to liquor the way she did.

  "My father," she said, the ugliness pouring out of her soul.

  Nodding, he watched her, still holding her hands. "What happened when he drank too much?"

  This was a question she didn't want to answer. The answer was brutally painful, and she didn't want to admit to her husband the terrible things her father had done to her mother, tried to do to her. The very reason she was placed at the orphanage.

  Until her marriage, she had put the past behind her and then the memories rumbled up from the place she'd buried them.

  With a sigh, she said, "He beat me, my mother, and anyone else who interfered."

  Will pulled her into his arms and held her. For a long moment, he did nothing but hold her against him, though he did kiss the top of her head. A warmth began to spread through her at the feel of his chest against hers. Whenever she thought he would do what her father had done, he did the exact opposite.

  "May God strike me down dead, I will never ever hit you in anger. And I will never harm our children in anger, though they will receive punishment when they disobey. Never will I consume so much alcohol that I can't control my actions. Occasionally, I like to take a sip of whiskey, but that's all."

  Quinlan pulled back and stared into his warm blue eyes. Could she believe him? How many times had her father promised them he would never drink again and then he'd come home weaving and smelling of liquor? Trying to determine if this was real or just another man's way of lying to get what he wanted, she stared at him, uncertain.

  But Will didn't seem like her father. He didn't have those ricocheting changes of mood. He seemed steady and sure and she tried her best to believe him.

  "Promise me," she said staring at him.

  "I promise you will never need to worry about me hitting you," he said. "Ever."

  Words were easy to say. Now did she trust him to keep his word. The rock solidness of his voice, the steady gaze of his blue eyes that warmed her wherever they touched, made her brave.

  "Will you promise me that if I tell you my secret, you will not send me away?" she said softly.

  The man stared at her like he couldn't believe she was saying this. "We're married for better or worse. Your secret is not going to cause me to send you away. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes," she said. "The reason I was sent to the orphanage is because my father killed my mother. One night, he came home drunk and started to beat her. When I tried to stop him, he knocked me down and would have hit me more, but my mother intervened while I hid." A tear slipped from Quinlan's eyes. "My mother died protecting me."

  All the anguish, the pain, the hurt, Quinlan had kept hidden about her mother's sacrifice poured from her eyes as she cried. Will took her in his arms and held her tightly against his chest while she sobbed.

  Finally her tears slowed as he whispered against her neck. "Your mother was a very brave woman who loved you. As a child, I'm sorry you went through that, but I'm so glad you're here with me. You have nothing to fear. I would never harm you or our children that way."

  Could his words be true? Could Will be a good man who would never hurt her? Only time would show for certain, but for the first time in years, she had hope. Hope that she would never have to experience that devastating life again.

  They sat on the bed with Will holding her in his arms, comforting her and giving her hope for a bright future. A loud rumbling noise reminded her they had yet to eat. Leaning back, she stroked the side of his face. "Thank you."

  "Thank you for telling me. Now, can we please go cook some breakfast. Al has already hit the trail and I'm starving. Then we'll go work on your schoolhouse."

  As she stood, she felt awkward. Now he knew her secrets. "I've got to unpack again."

  Will frowned. "Quinlan, we're newlyweds, still getting to know one another and learning about each other. Promise me that before you up and take off, we'll sit down and talk through whatever is bothering you. If we don't talk about what troubles us, we don't have a chance."

  Standing there, she couldn't help but hear Madam Wigg saying almost the same thing to each of the girls before they left for the train station. Communication is the bond of a good marriage.

  "You're right, Will. Next time, I'll tell you what's bothering me rather than pack my bags."

  Taking her by the hand, he said, "Come on, I'm starving and we've got lots of work to do today."

  A week later, Will pulled their buggy to a halt in front of Meg's Boutique, a quaint little shop where the windows were filled with fashionable dresses.

  His wife glanced at him in surprise. "Why are we stopping here?"

  "Well, my beautiful wife is the school teacher and classes will start soon and she needs to look her best. So I thought it would be a great idea for her to purchase some new clothes," Will said, wrapping the reins around the brake.

  The dresses she brought with her were well worn. Not that she didn't look gorgeous in them, but his wife deserved new things, garments that weren't faded or had a patch or a tear. The other night he had watched her painfully mending a dress that had a rip in it and that's when he made the decision.

  His wife warranted and needed a new wardrobe.

  "No," she said shaking her head. "The dresses I have will do."

  "This is my gift to you," he said.

  "No, you've already done too much. You're repairing the school, the wedding, the trip down here. You spent a lot of money on me."

  Will frowned. Never had he heard of a woman turning down new clothes. "Because as your husband, I wanted to give you new dresses. We can afford for you to buy new things for school. Even some new under garments."

  Hers were almost thread bare and it was painful to glimpse the promises of her body through the thin night clothes. She needed new ones.

  Biting her lip, she tilted her head and gazed at him. "Are we rich?"

  Will busted out laughing. "No, honey, I hate to disappoint you, but we aren't. But I have a nice cushion that as long as we're frugal, we can live comfortably. Plus, I'm hoping the carpenter business takes off soon and you're going to be bringing in money from teaching, so we're okay."

  There were so many things about her that he was slowly starting to put together. A drunk father, a beaten mother and child, and what if the family didn't have money? No wonder Quinlan said the orphanage was the best thing that happened to her. Maybe before then, she didn't have clothes and food. Only a father who liked the inside of a bottle and used his wife as a punching bag.

  Anger roiled through Will, clenching his gut at the thought of her father hitting Quinlan as a child. The images made him want to give her the moon and the stars and everything in between.

  "Come on, honey, let's pick you a couple of new dresses and other items."

  At the feel of her tiny waist in his hands, he longed to touch her more, but he set her on the ground. "Will, I've never gone into a dress shop before."

  "Meg is nice, and if it makes you feel better, she used to wear pants."

  "Why?" she asked startled.

  "They couldn't afford dresses for all of them, so she gave her sisters the dresses and she took her father's hand-me-downs."

  That seemed to visibly relax her. "There was never extra money. In fact, before the orphanage, there were nights we went hungry." />
  Will didn't respond. He couldn't. The words on the tip of his tongue were better left unsaid. The father probably had plenty of cash for whiskey.

  Taking her by the arm. "Come on, I can't believe I'm saying this, but let's go shopping."

  As he placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, she grinned at him and let him lead her inside the store.

  The bell above the door tinkled when they walked in. The dressmaker, Meg, knelt at the feet of Dora standing on a platform as she hemmed a skirt to the correct length. "Good morning. How are you two?"

  "I'm here to purchase some dresses," Quinlan said as she stood in the doorway gazing around in amazement at all of the bolts of fabric, the mannequins, the ribbons. "My husband said I could buy two new ones and some undergarments."

  Will glanced at his wife’s awed face. She probably never had this opportunity. Living at the orphanage, he figured the women went through second-hand garments. This would be her very own dress, not one someone discarded.

  With a quick glance and a smile, Meg said, "I'm almost done here with Dora. Look around you two and as soon as I'm finished, I'll come help you. There are ready made dresses or you can pick the fabric, the design, and I'll make the dress for you."

  Quinlan's eyes lit up. She had the opportunity to create the dress exactly the way she wanted and that made him smile. Since that day last week when she almost left him, they had been growing closer.

  Any day now, he hoped the time would come for them to consummate their marriage. More and more, his wife appeared to be relaxing and every day grew more difficult to be around her without touching her intimately.

  "Do you know when you're leaving," Meg ask Dora.

  "The moment Ruby tells me her star pupil passed. I know where the land is that he owns and I'll head in that direction."

  "Please tell me you're not going to kill him."

  "Honey, I dream of killing him. Though, why would I want to hang because he stole from me. My plan is to take the land from him and sell it to recoup my money."

  Rumors he’d heard in town said that Dora was training to become a bounty hunter. Yes, the McKenzie girls had originally all been bounty hunters, but it was such a dangerous occupation. Why would a woman want the job, except to maybe get rid of her husband, and from the sounds of their discussion, Dora planned to hunt down her wayward man.