Free Saturday's Child by Dallas Schulze Page B

eyes would have been enough to stop another man but Joseph had never been one to take hints.
    "I suggest you not say another word, lest I be forced to knock your teeth through the back of your head." Quentin's tone was quietly icy, leaving no doubts about the sincerity of his threat.
    "There's no need to be so touchy, cousin," Joseph protested. "I'm certainly not the sort to tell Aunt Sylvie what's going on under her nose. We men have to stick together, after all. I only thought that perhaps you might consider sharing the bounty, keeping it in the family, as it were."
    Quentin grabbed a fistful of his cousin's shirt, startling a cry from Joseph as he was shoved back against the wall.
    "You are to stay away from that girl. In fact, you are to stay away from every female in this household. If I find that you have laid so much as a finger on anyone under this roof, I shall take great pleasure in tearing your sniveling head from your body."
    He released his cousin as abruptly as he'd grabbed him. While Joseph was still trying to catch the breath that Quentin's grip had denied him, Quentin drew a snowy handkerchief from the vest pocket of his coat and wiped his hand, the very casualness of the gesture making it more of an insult than if he'd made a production of it. With a last cool glance, he turned and walked away.
    ❧
    "You're restless, boy. Sit down. It's like playing chess with a three-year-old." Tobias's grumpy complaint drew Quentin back to his chair. He sat down and looked at the chess board but he couldn't seem to concentrate. When he stood up again and wandered to the window, Tobias sighed and sat back in his chair, reaching for a cigar.
    "What's eating at you?"
    "I'm sorry, Grandfather. I don't have the concentration for chess today. Maybe it's all this hullabaloo about the wedding tomorrow. Heavens knows the rest of the house is in an uproar. Ann is in tears because it appears it may rain on her wedding day. She's threatening to put an end to herself if the sun doesn't come out, though how she thinks that will improve the weather, I can't imagine."
    "Foolish chit. She takes after your parents. A couple of nincompoops, from start to finish. You, my boy, are all MacNamara. Don't know how you managed it but, by God, you're all MacNamara.
    "You've the spirit and the thirst for new horizons. That's something you never lose, lad, that wondering about what's just over the next mountain. I still wonder. I just don't have the energy to go look anymore."
    "I've found what lies over the next mountain, Grandfather. It's nothing but another mountain and another beyond that. I've had enough of traveling to last me a lifetime and more. I've found what I want. I've a house that looks out on forever and there's not much more a man can ask."
    "Well, then I envy you, my boy. For you've found something I never could. Not even with my Anna. I always had to be seeing what was over the horizon. A sad dance I led her until she finally settled here to wait for me to come back from my roaming. If I'd been able to settle down, perhaps things would have been different. I might have had a son to follow after me. Though I've few regrets. The Lord saw fit to deny me a son, but he gave me you and I've no complaints with that.
    "But you take my advice, my boy. You find yourself a good wife, a girl who'll give you plenty of children. A man doesn't have much in this world if he doesn't have a son to follow after him. A strong woman who can stand toe to toe with you and give as good as she gets."
    "You're hardly describing my ideal of a restful wife, Grandfather," Quentin pointed out with a touch of amusement.
    "You aren't the sort to want a restful wife. You'd be wishing her to the devil inside a year."
    "You could be right. One thing is for certain—I'm not going to find the kind of wife I'm looking for here. It was foolish of me to think I would."
    Now why did he think of Katie when he uttered those words?
    ❧
    When the wedding at last occurred, it