Chapter Fourteen
Pushing the door open to Mollie ’ s Moonlight Saloon, I step in and look around the crowded room.
Pastor Hawkins is at his usual spot at the bar. Only, he ’ s not trying to save souls tonight, since every soul in this room seems to be preoccupied with the threat they can feel not too far away.
“ Sheriff—”
I hold up a hand to cut him off as I continue glancing around the room. “ Where ’ s Mollie?”
“ Why do you want to know?” Josie Cassidy asks, stepping around from her bar duties and squaring off against me. I hold up my hands to let her know that I ’ m not here to cause trouble—even though I kind of am.
“ That ’ s my business, saloon girl,” I tell her with a level stare. “ Where is she?”
“ What ’ s the matter, Mason? You don ’ t have the balls to see your little plot through?”
I glance up to the balcony of the second floor and find Mollie standing there, arms crossed over the railing, and motion for her to come down.
Mollie ’ s eyes turn dark as anger flashes through them, but she knows I ’ ll burn this entire fucking place to the ground if she puts up a fight. She disappears from view as she makes her way down the rickety, wooden steps, then comes over to the bar and waits impatiently.
“ Well? I haven ’ t got all night. And neither do you by the scent of things,” she says backing away slightly and waving a hand in front of her face.
“ Where ’ s Clem?”
Her nose wrinkles in confusion. “ What makes you think I know where that brat is?”
“ Because you ’ re the same,” I respond softly. “ I know you can feel her, so tell me where she is.”
Mollie casts a smirk toward Pastor Hawkins before she looks at me again. Her eyes go up and down my body, sizing me up. Sucking her teeth, she shakes her head and glances at the wooden double-doors behind me.
“ Go out the way you came in, Mason. No one in here is going to help you.”
“ I ’ m just fine to walk out, Mollie, but you ’ re coming with me,” I shoot back, not missing a beat.
She arches an eyebrow. “ And why would I do that?”
“ Because, little lady ,” I snarl, reaching forward and gripping her elbow tightly. “ We ’ re going to find out if you ’ re telling the truth about Silas—to his face.”
Mollie tries to wring her elbow out of my grip, but I dig my nails into her flesh and drag her out of the whorehouse. There ’ s no way on this damn Earth that she ’ s going to plant seeds of doubt in my head, then not water the garden in front of the rightful landowner.
By the time I ’ ve finally managed to drag her to the entrance of her little whorehouse, a small hand suddenly grips my free one.
I don ’ t have to look down to know who it is, but I do anyway.
“ Hey, Clem,” I greet the little girl softly, doing my best not to notice her pouty, lower lip and angry eyes.
“ I ’ m coming, too, Boone. ‘ Cause you ’ re my best friend, and I won ’ t let them hurt you. I promise, I won ’ t.”
Suddenly, Mollie stops struggling, so I let go of her arm.
She looks down at Clemmy, who gives her a nod as a little growl escapes her, and I watch as Mollie heads back to the bar and leans back on her elbows.
I don ’ t think it ’ s that Mollie is afraid so much as she knows that Clem can handle it.
But I refuse to let her off that easy.
“ Either you come out here and stick to your guns with what you told me, or I ’ m letting them in,” I warn her before I lean down to pick up Clem and stalk out of the Saloon.