QUINCY PACED THE parlor, willing the hands of the clock to move faster. It was almost five-thirty, but the telegraph office still wouldn’t open for several hours, so he was forced to wait. He heard the front door open and close and assumed it was his father returning from the barn.

“Quincy?”

He turned in shock. “Chris? What are you doing here?”

“Hannah had a dream,” he explained. “What’s going on?”

Quincy dragged his hands down his face. “Victoria’s missing. I have no idea where she’s been taken.”

“So, we probably need Crow,” Christopher said.

“Yes. However, we can’t wire him for several hours.”

“It’s a good thing I’m here then, isn’t it?” said the large Indian man who walked through the doors.

“Thank God!” Quincy let out a sigh of relief and then looked at his brother in shock. “How detailed was Hannah’s dream?”

“She woke at four, was horribly ill, and then forced me to get dressed. She informed me that Victoria had been kidnapped. She said she kept hearing something called ‘eye of the tiger’ in the background and saw a large crow flying overhead.”

“I have no idea what that means, but God bless her,” Quincy said.

“So, tell me everything,” Crow said.

Quincy laid out the entire morning, including Rocky’s reactions. “I still can’t get that damn horse back in the barn.”

“Yes, I saw him outside,” Crow said. “He’s quite a curious animal, different.”

“Victoria trained him and he follows her everywhere now. I tried to ride him to the west and he wouldn’t let me, which leads me to believe perhaps they took her east.”

“Give me some time alone. I will return shortly.” Crow left the room and Christopher sat on the sofa while Quincy continued to pace.

“Who would have taken her?” Quincy asked his brother in desperation.

“I don’t know, Quinn, but we’ll find her.”

“They won’t live long once we do,” he vowed.

“Are you hungry?” Christopher asked. “I’ll find something to eat.”

“I can’t think about food right now.”

“Eggs it is,” Christopher said, and left to find breakfast.

Quincy heard footsteps and turned to see his mother walking into the parlor. “What’s this about Victoria being missing?”

“She’s been taken, Mama, but we don’t know where. Crow is tracking now.”

“My word.” Wilhelmina’s hand went to her throat. “I’ll get breakfast.”

His mother always solved everything with food. He watched her scurry from the room and was once again left alone with his thoughts. He didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to Victoria. He would be lost.

“Quincy?”

Quinn jumped. “You scared the bejeezus out of me! I didn’t even hear you.”

Crow shrugged his shoulders. “I know where he took her. One person. One horse.”

“Let’s go. I’ll get the guns.”

“You found the trail?” Christopher asked as he walked back into the room. Crow said nothing, and Christopher shook his head. “Stupid question. Forget I asked.”

Quincy relaxed, albeit slightly. Crow could track anyone anywhere, which was why he was so sought after. Crow, however, was very particular. He would do anything for his closest friend, Sam, but others weren’t as fortunate. Most didn’t even know who he was or where to find him. “We are going now.”

He retrieved three pistols and a rifle and joined Christopher and Crow outside.

“Are you certain you have enough artillery?” Christopher retorted as he glanced at the rifle secured in his own saddle.

“He’s going to die,” Quincy vowed. “However, I think I’ll make certain it’s slowly.”

They saddled and mounted three horses and took off. Hearing another set of hooves, Quincy turned to see Rocky following. Quincy swore.

Christopher sighed. “You were supposed to secure him, Quinn.”

Quincy groaned. “I did.”

“He apparently broke free,” Crow observed.

Quinn dismounted and went to make certain the horse was unharmed. “He broke the reins,” he muttered.

“Let him follow,” Christopher said. “Victoria will need a mount.”

“She’ll ride with me,” Quincy said.

“Well, let him follow anyway.”

Quincy remounted, and the brothers followed Crow as he tracked Victoria, riding for almost an hour before he pulled his horse to a stop. “He carried her from here.”

They dismounted and secured the horses. Crow began to move and the brothers stayed a few steps behind him. He led them into a secluded grove of trees and Christopher looked at Quincy in surprise. “The shack?”

The shack used to belong to a long-since-deceased neighbor. The crazy old man had refused to leave it and died in the front room more than twenty years before. The Butler boys used to say it was haunted and often threatened to take Gwen and her friends there if they didn’t do what the boys wanted.

“Damn it!” Quincy said. “Who the hell is this person?”

* * *

Victoria jerked awake and instantly felt sick from the ammonia smell under her nose.

“Did you enjoy your nap, sweet love?”

Victoria groaned. “Don’t call me that.”

“You don’t like that? Hm. We’ll need to find another endearment for one another then.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Ignoring her outburst, Bart stood and bent over her. “I have a wonderful lunch planned for us.”

“You’re insane!” she snapped. “Do you hear me? Just let me go and perhaps Quincy won’t torture you before he kills you.”

He slapped her again, but she refused to cry out.

“I will feed you, dearest, which you will thoroughly enjoy.”

This man is out of his mind! He’s too far-gone to reason with and too dangerous to battle.

“Will you be a good girl so that I can untie you?”

She nodded her head slowly. Perhaps if she could play along, she might be able to stall him long enough for Quincy to find her.

“Excellent,” he said, and leaned over her again.

As he did, he ran a hand up her thigh and she had to will herself not to kick him away.

“It would appear you are feeling a bit more amorous,” Bart observed.

Victoria wouldn’t answer. She would not speak to him if she could at all manage it. He untied her hand farthest from him and as he moved his body back over her, he brushed his hand over her breasts and lingered. Victoria could taste the bile in her mouth, but refused to react. He untied her other hand and then helped her sit up. She was in agony. Her face throbbed and her ribs burned from being pushed to the floor earlier.

“Your face looks terrible, sweet love. You truly shouldn’t have angered me so. I do hope that you have learned your lesson. I trust there will be no more incidents from now on.”

She stared at him, but willed herself not to glare. He helped her sit up and then led her to the table where he had set out an odd variety of food. She sat and Bart prepared a plate for her then sat down opposite her.

“I wasn’t certain what your favorites were, so I have a little bit of everything. But, never you mind, sweet love. We’ll have many years for me to learn.”

Victoria stared at the food, her mouth aching and her stomach rolling. There was no way she would be able to eat. Folding her hands in her lap, she stared at her plate.

“You don’t like the food?”

She looked up but didn’t say anything.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

Bart stood and bent over her.

“Is the food not to your liking?”

He took her napkin and laid it in her lap.

“Now, let’s take a bite.” He took a forkful of food and lifted it to her mouth. She tightened her lips and turned her head. “Open your mouth and eat,” he ordered.

She stared up at him, but didn’t react. It was the wrong choice. He grabbed her around the throat and squeezed. “You will eat, Victoria. Don’t make me hurt you again.”

Beyond frightened, Victoria didn’t want to eat. She wanted Quincy. He took the fork and lifted it again to her lips, scowling as he pushed the prongs roughly between her lips, once again drawing blood. She opened her teeth and took the bite.

“Good girl,” he said. “Isn’t it tasty?”

Her eyes filled with tears.

Where are you, Gus?

She didn’t think she could take much more of this.

“Don’t cry, sweet love,” he said evenly. “Let’s try another bite.”

Unable to control her panic, she couldn’t stop her tears as he forced another bite of food between her lips.

* * *

Quincy approached the shack quietly, not entirely sure of what he would find. He located his brother and Crow, who had spread out to cover each side of the small structure. There were very few windows and only one door, so it would be relatively easy to determine if anyone was in there.

Crouching down, Quinn moved his body under the first window and raised himself enough to look inside. His heart raced and the breath left his body as he observed the scene. Although the window was grimy and he couldn’t see everything, he knew it was Victoria who sat at the table inside. He motioned to his brother, who was closest to him, and they made their way to the front door.

“Ready?” Christopher asked.

Quincy didn’t answer. He kicked the door in and raised his gun as he stormed the room.

Victoria turned but didn’t get a chance to react because Bart yanked her up by her hair and held a knife to her neck. She whimpered from the pain.

“I will kill her,” Bart bellowed.

Quincy’s heart sank when he looked at Victoria. Her face was bruised and swollen and he noticed handprints on her neck.

“Put down the gun, or she dies,” Bart warned.

“Kill him, Gus. Put a bullet in his head,” Victoria rasped.

“Shut your mouth!” Bart screeched and yanked her hair harder.

Victoria whimpered again, which made Quincy falter slightly.

“She is mine. No one else will have her,” Bart yelled.

Victoria screamed at him, despite her pain. “I will never be yours! That man standing in front of you is the only man who will ever have any part of me.”

“You ungrateful bitch!”

Quincy took the shot. Both Bart and Victoria fell to the floor.

“Victoria!” Quincy rushed to her, knelt down, and pushed Bart off her. He had a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. “Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay,” she whispered as she grabbed for Quincy.

He lifted her to her feet, then into his arms and strode out of the shack. Rocky whinnied and ran to her. Victoria reached out and stroked his muzzle. “I’m fine, boy.”

Quincy nodded a silent thanks to his brother and Crow, and then walked around Rocky and moved to lift Victoria onto his horse. “No, baby. I want Rocky.”

“Are you sure you can ride?”

She nodded and he lifted her onto Rocky’s back. Jumping up behind her, he pulled her close then started back to the house. Quincy was concerned that Rocky had no tack to speak of, but his concern was unnecessary, as the horse carried them all the way back to the farm, seemingly knowing he needed to get his mistress to safety.

As they approached the barn, Jacob rushed to grab one of Rocky’s broken reins and pulled him to the barn. Quincy jumped down and gently lifted Victoria from Rocky’s back. Leaving the horses in the care of Jacob and his stable hands, Quincy carried her back to the house. His parents were waiting on the porch, but he knew that she needed to be alone with him.

“Don’t let them see me,” Victoria whispered and buried her face in his shoulder.

Quincy gave her a gentle squeeze and continued up the porch steps. Wilhelmina moved forward, but Vincent stayed her with his hand. Quincy nodded his thanks and they didn’t pry any further. He carried her up to his bedroom and closed the door.

“I’m going to be sick,” she rasped.

He set her on her feet and grabbed the bowl from the bureau. Victoria started to vomit, and Quincy stood with his arm wrapped around her waist in support.

Victoria took several deep breaths and then fell against him. “Oh—”

She burst into tears and Quincy lifted her back into his arms and onto the bed. Pulling her close, he stroked her back and whispered, “Shhh. Sweetheart, I’m here.”

“Gus?”

“Yes, Rebel.”

She whimpered. “Everything hurts.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t. Not yet,” she whispered.

“All right, beautiful. I’ll go and organize a bath for you.” He started to move from the bed, but Victoria grasped his shirt.

“No!” she screamed.

“Victoria?”

“Don’t leave me. Oh, God, Quincy, please don’t leave me,” she sobbed.

“Never,” Quincy crooned. “I will never leave you.”

Pulling her back into his arms, he kissed her forehead. He had no idea what Grey had done to her, but felt as though he wanted to kill him all over again.

Quincy held Victoria until she finally fell into a fitful sleep. By the time he heard her even breathing, his stomach reminded him that not only had he missed breakfast, but lunch as well. Hearing a quiet knock at the door, he eased his way carefully from the bed to answer it and found Hannah standing on the other side holding a tray of food. “Hi,” she said.

Quincy stepped aside. “Come in. She just fell asleep.”

Hannah tiptoed into the room and set the tray down. “Her face,” she whispered as tears formed in her eyes. “What did that bastard do to her?”

“I don’t know just yet,” Quincy said quietly. “She hasn’t been able to tell me.”

Hannah squeezed his arm. “She will, Quinn. Just give it time.”

“I’m not certain I want to know.”

Hannah patted his shoulder. “Christopher and I will be staying here for a few days. I’ll organize a bath for her when she wakes up. Just holler.”

Leaving the room quickly, she closed the door, and Quincy grabbed a sandwich and ate it as he watched his wife. Her bruised and battered face was distressing, and his heart constricted as he moved over to the side of the bed and pulled a chair close to it. Before sitting down, he placed his hand on her arm, not prepared for what happened next.

Victoria sat up and screamed. Quincy sat and wrapped his arms around her waist, but she started to hit him and it took all his strength to hold her arms so that he could control her without hurting her. “Shhh. Sweetheart, it’s me. I’m here.”

“No! Get your hands off me!”

She continued to scream and Hannah rushed into the room, but Quincy held his hand up.

“Rebel?” he crooned. “Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Gus. Shhh.”

Calming instantly, she opened her eyes slowly and then her whole body folded into his and she sobbed into his chest. “He touched me. Gus, he tied me up and touched me. I’m going to be sick.”

Hannah reached for the bowl, handed it to Quincy, and then stood quietly, tears streaming down her face. Victoria leaned over the bowl and her body shuddered with each retch. Quincy sat and gently rubbed her back.

“I’m okay,” Victoria said, and sat up.

“Victoria?”

Victoria glanced at Hannah and the tears started again.

Quincy moved aside so that Hannah could pull Victoria into her arms. “Shhh, Victoria. We’re all here for you.”

“I feel so filthy. I remember watching those shows, you know? SVU and CSI? The rape victims always took shower after shower, trying to wash everything away. I didn’t understand why.”

“I know, lovey.”

“I understand now and I don’t want to. I want the memories to go away. I want the feel of his hands to go away,” she sobbed, her hand covering her mouth.

“I know, lovey. I know.”

“Can I have a bath, please?” Victoria begged. “Can you get that for me?”

Hannah nodded. “Of course. I’ll get it right now.”

“Thank you,” Victoria whispered and fell back into the pillows.

Hannah stood and left the room. Victoria held her hand out. “Quinn?”

He moved back to the bed and sat next to her.

“Oh, honey. You’re crying. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to make you cry. I need to tell you something, okay?”

Quincy nodded.

“He didn’t rape me. I tried to get out. I fought him with everything I had, but I was so tired and he kept hitting me. I’m so sorry.”

Quincy pulled her into his arms. “My beautiful rebel. Why are you apologizing? None of this was your fault.”

“I should have known. He poisoned Rocky. Every time Rocky was upset, he was close. That’s why he was agitated on the train. I should have known.”

“Sweetheart.” He rubbed her back. “You couldn’t have known.”

“He watched us,” she whispered.

“Watched you?”

“When we swam. We would swim in our underwear and he would watch us,” she said with a shiver. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t do this, Rebel. There was no way you could have ever known.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she let him hold her, but couldn’t get close enough to him. Hannah returned with the tub and Nanny oversaw the filling of it. The staff was quiet, discreet and quick, which Quincy appreciated.

“I brought some ice and also a flannel. I’ll just set them here,” Hannah said, and placed everything on the bureau.

“Thank you,” Quincy said. Once everyone left, he loosened his hold on Victoria and ran a finger down her cheek. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, she let Quincy help her off the bed. He undressed her as she stood without moving. She winced when she heard his quick intake of breath.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. Her arms were black and blue from where Bart grabbed her and there was a huge bruise on her back from where he slammed her against the wall. There was also bruising around her ribs and a hip. “Are you in pain?”

“A little. But I’ll be okay, Gus. You’re here and that’s all I need.”

He lifted her and gently placed her in the tub, kneeling beside her and handing her a washcloth. “Do you want me to give you some privacy?”

She looked up quickly. “No. Don’t go anywhere.” She grabbed for his hand. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t, sweetheart.”

She smiled and couldn’t stop a wince. Her lip was swollen and cut, and she put her hand to her mouth.

“Hannah brought some ice. Let’s get that on your lip.”

Quincy moved to the bureau and Victoria never took her eyes off him. Returning quickly to her side, he gently placed the ice to her mouth and she laid her hand over his and tried to smile. “Better?”

She nodded.

“How is your hand?”

“It’s okay, I think,” she said as she stared at the all-but-forgotten injury. “I do want to wash my hair, though.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Thanks,” she said, and moved farther down in the tub, submerging herself under the water and coming up with a gasp.

“Rebel?”

“It stings,” she said, and put her fingers to her lip.

“All right, sweetheart, let’s get the ice back on it.”

Wrapping the ice in the washcloth, Victoria held it to her face while Quincy gently washed and rinsed her hair. She sighed as he squeezed the water from her head and wrapped it in a towel. “Thank you,” she said.

“Are you ready to get out?”

“I think so.” When she stood, he wrapped a towel around her body and lifted her from the tub. “Let’s get you into a nightgown and then I’ll brush your hair.”

She nodded and let him tend to her. Once she was comfortable, she sat on a stool near the window. The day had started to grow warm, so Quincy pushed one of the windows open to capture the breeze. He gathered a soft-bristle brush and stood behind her. As he gently ran the brush through her hair, Victoria leaned back against him.

“He didn’t rape me. He touched me... and it was so creepy... and all I wanted to do was throw up.”

Quincy’s hand shook as he raised the brush. In a rush, she told him everything that had transpired in the cabin. She left nothing out and as she spoke, the weight of the events seemed to lift from her chest. Quincy listened in silence... the occasional squeeze of her shoulder the only indication he heard her.

When she was finished, she collapsed against him and dipped her head back. “Are you okay?”

Quincy leaned over her. “I wasn’t the one hurt, sweetheart.”

Victoria pushed to her feet and faced him. “I know. But I also know that it couldn’t have been easy to listen to that.” She forced a smile. “You’re very protective of me.”

Quincy set the brush on the bureau and wrapped his arms around her. “I am very protective of you, and you’re right, it wasn’t easy to listen to, but it’s important that you know you can tell me anything...” He kissed her forehead. “... even if I don’t want to hear it.”

“I love you.” She reached up and slipped her fingers into his hair. “Thank you for saving me.”

“I just wish I could have found you before—”

Victoria shook her head. “I should have woken you. It was my fault.” She couldn’t stop a yawn and leaned heavily against him again.

“You need to rest,” he said.

She nodded her head. “I am tired.”

He lifted her and laid her in the bed, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Sleep, sweetheart.”

She grasped his forearm. “Will you stay?”

“Of course I’ll stay. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised.

* * *

Quincy stroked her face until he was certain she was asleep and then eased himself from the bed and got dressed. He opened the door, to find his brothers pacing the hallway.

“She’s asleep,” Quincy said.

“How is she?” Jacob asked.

“I think she’s better.”

“How are you?” Christopher asked.

Quincy dragged his hands down his face. “I’ll get there.”

Christopher nodded. “Do you need anything?”

“Lemonade and water would be appreciated,” Quincy said. “And whiskey.”

Christopher turned and went to collect the items and Quincy returned to the room to lie next to his wife, just in case she needed him. Jacob kept vigil in the hallway.