The Tender Vine (Diamond of the Rockies #3)(135)

Bank clerk Simon Blessing claims he saw the notorious outlaw in a poker game at the saloon. “I recognized the mole under his lip from the new posters.” Certain there could be trouble, he alerted bank owner Thaddeus Marsh. Law officers were ready when Dennison made his move on the bank.Dennison was shot trying to exit the window. Two partners were captured and await trial.

Still leaving his men to take the fall. But this time, Shane hadn’t made his escape. He’d found a bullet instead. Quillan read on. “He looked just like his face on the posters,” Blessing said. “There was no doubt in my mind it was Dennison.”

And it was Quillan’s sketch they’d used for the new posters. He’d drawn the mole that clerk recognized. Quillan stared at the page. Carina leaned close. “They got Shane Dennison?”

“Shot him.” Quillan swallowed. It was a strange feeling to know he’d helped to bring the man down. Though he’d been willing to shoot during the robbery to protect those aboard the train, he felt only numb now. Dennison deserved the retribution of the law. But he had been the first friend Quillan had, even if he had been a false one.

He looked back at the other papers in his lap. The next was a cashier’s check for two hundred dollars. He pushed it aside to read the letter beneath.

My esteemed sir. Quillan had to grin. It would appear my earlier judgments were in error. Earlier judgments? Whose letter was this? He glanced to the bottom of the sheet and froze. William Wallace DeMornay III.

Quillan’s breath escaped in a rush. William DeMornay?

“What is it?” Carina took the letter and read, “ ‘My esteemed sir. It would appear my earlier judgments were in error. You must forgive my skepticism. Men of my position are often targets of unscrupulousness. As an officer of the Union Pacific Railroad, I am honored to present you this portion of the reward for the capture of the notorious Mr. Shane Dennison, the amount being one third divided between yourself, Mr.

Simon Blessing, and Mr. Thaddeus Marsh.’ ” She glanced up, still obviously unaware of who it was that addressed him.

“ ‘As to your previous claims, my wife has informed me that she believes your story and has legitimate reason for doing so.’ ” Now her eyes shot to the bottom of the page, and she gasped. “Quillan, it’s from your grandfather. He’s an officer of the railroad?”

Tabor had mentioned that, but Quillan had forgotten. He might not have been so eager to save the train if he’d remembered. “So it appears.”

“But this is remarkable. What fortunate serendipity. He says, ‘At some time in the near future, I would like to discuss the matter further with you. Yours very sincerely, William Wallace DeMornay III.’ ” Carina looked up. “Quillan, he knows. He acknowledges you.”

“He knew before.”

“You know the railroad barons are criticized and envied. He had to be cautious. It wasn’t because of you that he acted as he did. How did he say it?” She perused up the letter. “Men of his position are ‘targets of unscrupulousness.’ That explains his behavior.”

“Does it?” Quillan was not so sure.

Carina flicked her fingers across the page. “He wants to discuss your relationship.”

Quillan jerked his chin toward the wall, resisting her words. Here she was again, explaining matters of the heart. But it still stung that William DeMornay had accused him of wanting money instead of listening to his intentions.

She turned his face back, caught it between her palms. “Quillan, your grandfather made a mistake. He admits as much. But that doesn’t change the relationship any more than his denial changed the truth.”

Quillan sighed and looked down at the last paper in the packet.

Another letter in a genteel if spidery hand. My dear Quillan. It was from his grandmother. You must know how deeply we regret our error. Perhaps it will not be easy for you to forgive, but I pray you will not find it impossible. You have your mother’s nature.

Quillan glanced up at Carina. He suddenly missed his mother’s locket with a piercing ache. He wanted to see, once again, that sweet face.

I can only beg you understand my hesitance. After so many years of wondering, longing, weeping, and finding at last some thin peace, to resurrect the pain was not easy. For William it was harder yet. He blamed himself for his daughter’s ruin. Because he knew the man’s reputation, he refused to countenance their courtship request, but Rose was snared by the scoundrel’s iniquity. William would have forgiven her, I believe, if given the chance. It broke his heart when she disappeared.

Quillan wrinkled his brow. William DeMornay seemed too cold and stiff for broken hearts. But maybe, like himself, his grandfather built walls to protect against the pain.

Think kindly on him, Quillan. As you have loved your mother, so William loved her first. Never were two so inseparable. Joy died in him the day she left.

A sharp pang lodged in his chest at those words. He’d spent most of his life hating his mother because he misunderstood. How could he blame William for coping as poorly?

Carina cupped his chin and turned his face up. “Are you all right?”

How did she see inside him? His throat tightened painfully. “What am I supposed to do?”

“What does she say?”

He looked back down. “ ‘Would you permit us to visit? William also extends this request. I pray you will consider it. Yours humbly and sincerely, Annelise DeMornay.’ ”