My Darling Melissa Read Online Free

amazement.
    Melissa felt a blush climb her face. Though she couldn’t think why, she wanted Quinn to like her work, even to admire it. Obviously, it was more of a curiosity to him.
    “You might have mentioned that we were leaving Spokane,” she said as the floor shook under her feet. “It just so happens that I wanted to stay there.”
    Quinn shrugged. There was a parcel on the corner of his desk, and he tossed it somewhat cavalierly to Melissa. “Here. Compliments of your devoted nurse.”
    Melissa caught the flying bundle in both arms; it was quite heavy. “What is it?”
    One of Quinn’s powerful shoulders moved in a shrug. “Some evidence of her Christian charity, I would imagine. She and the doctor were very concerned for your soul.”
    Melissa had already learned that Eloise was the sister of the doctor Quinn had summoned to the railroad car that morning. She was almost afraid to look inside the parcel. “I suppose I should go back to bed,” she remarked lightly, feeling lonesome.
    “I suppose you should,” Quinn answered, closing the book with a telling slam and standing up. “I think I’ll go to the club car myself. Play a hand or two of poker.”
    Melissa’s knees were a bit shaky, and she made her reluctant way back to bed. “I know how to play poker,” she volunteered hopefully. It was going to be downright dismal in that car if Mr. Rafferty went away and left her.
    She heard a drawer open and close, and then Quinn was standing in view of the bed, his hand on the door that led to the next car.
    “Get some sleep,” he said, giving her an indulgent grin, and then he was gone.
    Melissa’s eyes burned with tears; she dried them with her palms and valiantly refused to shed more. The devil with Mr. Rafferty, if he didn’t want to play a hand of poker with her. He was probably an easy mark anyway.
    After a few moments of true despair Melissa forced her attention to the package Eloise had sent. It was wrapped in brown paper and bound tightly with twine, and it took a good deal of concentrated effort to open it.
    Inside were two dull, prim calico dresses, along with two pairs of muslin drawers, two camisoles, one oft-mended petticoat, and a dark woolen shawl. There was also a pair of black high button shoes that looked a shade too big for Melissa’s feet.
    She sat stunned, teetering between fits of laughter and wails of outrage. She was a member of one of the richest, most powerful families in the state and had never expected to be the recipient of Christian charity.
    Melissa bit down on her lower lip and held herself steady. The plain truth was that, even though she had access to a fortune, even though there wasn’t a gown in all the world so expensive that she couldn’t afford to buy it, she needed these clothes. The only other garment she had on hand was a mud-stained wedding dress with a tear in the hem.
    She blinked back more tears, sniffled, and then uttered a forlorn little chuckle. A person couldn’t start a new and independent life in a dirty wedding gown.
    Melissa got out of bed and tried on the dresses. They fitwell enough, but the shoes were a bit too large. She was striding back and forth, trying to get the hang of keeping them on her feet, when Quinn reentered the car with a rush of cold air.
    “What are you doing?” he demanded, scowling. It was plain enough that he’d lost at poker.
    “I’m practicing,” she answered. “If these are going to be my shoes, I’d just better learn to walk in them.”
    “A cryptic statement if I’ve ever heard one,” Quinn replied, rounding the desk and opening a drawer. He took a wallet from the inside pocket of his tailored suit coat and dropped it inside. An expression of polite horror crossed his face as he took in her worn calico dress. “Great Scott, that’s ugly.”
    Melissa curtsied, though she was beginning to feel weak again. “Thank you so much, sir,” she said.
    Quinn took her firmly by the arm and led her back to the bed, where