Molly Darling Page 8

  Molly sighed quietly and nodded. She was going to get a lecture whether she wanted one or not.

  Mrs. Liscomb mentioned hormones and the temptations of a handsome face and the perils of physical attraction. She gave a summary of male behavior. She brought in fear of being alone and growing old. She concluded that someday Molly would meet a man who’d be exactly right for her.

  “I’ve never been afraid of being alone,” Molly said. “My life has been very pleasant. I’m sure it’s going to be more so. Lass is a wonderful child, and Sam is a wonderful man.”

  Mrs. Liscomb glared at her as if she were being particularly dim-witted about the whole thing. Molly smiled serenely.

  She knew she was doing the right thing. Sam needed her. Together they’d make a home for Lass.

  Flutters dived from her throat down into her chest. She wondered if she’d have any other children. A brother or sister for Lass would be nice.

  She stood. “Thank you for tea. I’d better be going. It will be time for the evening service before you know it.”

  The minister’s wife accompanied her to the door, put out by her guest’s refusal to take her sage advice, her concern giving way to irritation in the face of Molly’s stubborn complacency.

  Molly walked out the door and across the road to her own snug cottage with a happy step.

  She quickly changed clothes and jumped into her car to go to Sam’s house. He’d invited her out for a cook-out and to look the place over so she could plan what changes she wanted to make. Sam had told her to do whatever she wanted about the furniture.

  The drive took forty minutes. She thought of him driving back and forth twice a day to leave Lass at the school, then pick her up. A devoted father.

  He and Lass waited on the broad Spanish-tiled patio. She parked and went up the path, noticing he’d used Southwest plantings in the garden. An unmowed patch of bunch grass formed the lawn.

  “This is delightful,” she told him after they’d exchanged greetings. They were almost formal with each other.

  “I don’t have time to mow,” he explained about the grass.

  “It doesn’t need it. This looks lovely and natural, like a small meadow. The dry creek is a lovely touch.”

  She was aware of his eyes on her. In jeans and a loose shirt, with her hair in a clip at the back of her head, she probably looked more like a teenage baby-sitter than the woman he would marry the second Saturday in April. Only a bit more than two weeks away.

  “Did you talk to your folks?” he asked.

  A flush seeped into her face. “Yes. They’ll be here in time for the wedding.”

  She didn’t tell him that after a stunned silence, her mother had declared the news “wonderful!” and followed by asking if she were “in the family way?”

  “Sam is a gentleman,” she’d reprimanded her erring parent.

  “Yes, but you’re getting married so soon. I always thought you’d insist on a year’s engagement at the very least,” her mother had teased, “just to be sure you were suited.”

  Right now, Molly was wondering if she and Sam were suited. He was often distant around her, his mind preoccupied with other things. He’d made no move to kiss her again.

  She’d observed him for over six months. Sometimes she thought she wasn’t any closer to knowing the real man than she’d been the first time they’d met.

  “Good,” he said in answer to her news.

  She’d insisted on waiting until her parents could join them for the occasion. Sam had no one. He’d suggested going to a judge’s chambers. Her friends from church wouldn’t hear of it.

  “Molly must have a big wedding,” Tiffany had informed him. “Everyone will want to come.”

  Molly remembered the way he’d gazed at her, a smile at the corners of his mouth and a look in his eyes… it had been almost as tender as the way he looked at his child. It had given her goose bumps.

  She wished he could express what he felt in words.

  Or kisses.

  Heavens, she was getting so bold, she worried about herself!

  “I’ve got the grill going. It’s around this way.” He led her along the porch that wrapped from the front to the back of the house.

  She admired the peachy-beige stucco that glowed in the setting sun. Sam told her he had recently painted it.

  While the charcoal turned gray with ash, he told her about the ranch. His great-great-grandfather had settled on the land over a hundred years ago. He’d been a land agent for the federal government, sent out to check on some conflicting claims.

  She told him of her past. “My ancestors were whalers. They settled first in Boston, then on Long Island. Later, they moved to Virginia.” She took Lass while Sam spread the coals. They went inside.

  The kitchen was modern. His mother had had it remodeled shortly before her death. The cabinets were light oak. The counters and walls under the cabinets were tiled with, white ceramic squares. Some tiles had paintings of desert wildflowers on them and were interspersed among the others.

  “Oh, I love this,” she said, turning all around.

  “Do you?”

  “It’s lovely. All that counter space. My kitchen is so tiny.” She stopped, coloring when she remembered what had happened in her kitchen.

  “Molly, about that night,” he began slowly.

  Her lungs constricted at the seriousness of his tone. “Yes?” she managed to say.

  “Do you have any regrets?”

  She shook her head. Lass grabbed a flyaway curl and tugged. She removed the lock. “None. Do you?”

  “Only that it forced a decision you might not have been ready to make. Some people will wonder about us and our marriage.” His smile was cynical. “There’s already talk that I seduced you into marrying me. People think I need money.”

  “You had a check bounce.” Molly had to smile at the startled, then exasperated expression on his face. “Tiffany has a cousin who works at the bank. Do you need money?”

  “No. Well, yes, but I have enough to get by.”

  He put Lass in a playpen and gave Molly a quick tour of the house. “You keep a very neat house,” she complimented him. She glanced around the master suite. “I’ve never been in a man’s bedroom before. It makes me feel odd.”

  “Odd?”

  “Like I might get scolded for meddling any minute.” She turned to him with a smile. “Doesn’t that sound like a nervous spinster?” Her smile wilted under his keen appraisal.

  “Why haven’t you married?”

  She’d been asked that question before. She usually replied that Brad Pitt, or whatever movie star was currently popular, had never asked her. They walked down the hallway.

  “I never really had any desire to,” she said truthfully. “I thought about it some when all my friends were anxious about boys calling for dates, but it never really interested me. I’m afraid I much preferred books over boys.”

  “Yes, you would.” He nodded toward the baby from the kitchen doorway. “She’s ready for dinner.”

  Molly noticed that Lass was sucking noisily on her fingers, a sign that she was hungry. She watched while Sam got out jars of food, warmed them in the microwave, stirred them and tested the temperature before bringing the meat and pasta combination to the table. He opened a can of pureed pears.

  Molly strapped Lass into the high chair. “I’ll feed her.”

  “Molly, about our marriage…”

  “Yes?” She glanced at him after feeding Lass the first bite. He looked so worried.

  “I care about you, about our friendship,” he said, then he hurried outside to put their steaks on the grill.

  Molly sighed in confusion. Something was troubling Sam. Maybe he’d tell her later. She fed Lass, then gave her a quick wash. Going to Lass’s bedroom, she put a clean diaper, then pajamas on the sleepy baby.

  After winding up a music box and turning out the light, she left the room and went to find Sam. It was time they had a talk.

  She found him
on the back porch, tending the steaks. He also had vegetable shish kebabs sizzling over the coals.

  “Mmm, that makes my mouth water,” she commented. She sat on the porch railing and watched for a few minutes. “What’s bothering you?” she finally asked, turning her attention from the sunset to the silent man.

  He placed the meat and vegetables on a platter and placed it on the warming shelf beside the four dinner rolls. “I’ve heard talk in town,” he began. “About us.”

  She nodded. “I’ve heard the rumors. People think you’ve charmed me.” She believed in getting things out in the open. “That you need money and that’s why you want me. I’ve also been told the same rumors about your first marriage.”

  “I would never marry for money. My stepfather did that to my mother. She thought he was wonderful. Fortunately she never knew he was skimming money from the ranch and putting it in his own account. I had enough savings to pay off the ranch mortgage, so it’s in the clear. I don’t have a lot of cash, but I don’t owe anyone, either.”

  “I didn’t believe the rumors, Sam.”

  A tinge of color seeped into his face. “There’s one more thing. I have some papers. My attorney thinks we should sign them. Just in case.”

  “Just in case of what?”

  “In case the marriage doesn’t work. If you want out-”

  Sam stopped speaking and watched the transformation. The girlish look disappeared as Molly assumed her teacher’s stance—arms crossed, feet firmly planted, eyes like spear points.

  “It hardly bodes well for our future if you’re already thinking of the ending before the marriage starts,” she lectured sternly. “A marriage isn’t an on-again, off-again thing. It’s something that people work at.”

  “I rushed you—”

  “No, you didn’t. I made up my own mind.”

  “You’ve never said what you expect from marriage.”

  “My wants are simple. Respect and common courtesy will do for a start. I’ve seen people treat family members worse than they treat strangers on the street. I disapprove of that. No one deserves kindness more than the people you live with. They’re the ones who will stand by you.”

  Molly realized she was sermonizing and shut up. A vague alarm hummed through her mind. She felt threatened by outside forces she didn’t understand.

  Sam, like the preacher’s wife, was determined to have his say. “I want you to be happy.” He gave an odd half smile. “You’re the only friend I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m very pleased with our plans,” she said solemnly. “Now, where’re the prenuptial agreements? I suppose he wants us to list all our assets so I won’t claim any part of the ranch if we wind up divorced.”

  She grinned as Sam turned a becoming shade of red and mumbled about lawyers and their distrust and all that. He hadn’t learned to trust many people, but he would learn to trust her.

  Laughing, she leaned close and nibbled his ear, startling him. “I’m not your only friend, but I intend to be your very best friend for life,” she whispered, happy that they understood each other.

  Chapter Six

  “You’ve certainly found your soul mate.” Molly’s mother observed Sam across the crowded reception room at the church. “He’s as quiet and serious as you.”

  “Not all the time. You should see him playing with Lass. He’s wonderful with her.”

  “And with you?” Her mother gave her a shrewd appraisal.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, so earnest and heartfelt that she blushed at being so obviously and foolishly in love with her husband.

  “My darling changeling, I’m so glad for you.” Her mother hugged her tightly. “I want you to have the happiness I’ve had with your father. Establishing a home and being true to one’s vows is important. Children need constancy, but few people realize it today. They think their own temporary happiness takes precedence over the good of their family. It’s so sad.”

  Since Molly was the one who usually delivered mini lectures on family life and children’s needs, she was pleased when her mother expressed the same views.

  “Feeling sentimental, old gal?” Mr. Clelland inquired, dropping an arm across his wife’s and daughter’s shoulders and giving them both a hug. “Actually, she’s felt rather a failure. Here we presented the perfect marriage for our children to follow and we thought neither of you were ever going to marry.’’

  Molly kissed her father’s cheek, catching a whiff of his after-shave, a scent as familiar and comforting to her as a child’s favorite blanket. “And now you not only get a son-in-law, but a granddaughter to boot.”

  “That Lass,” her father said in loving approval.

  The baby had already stolen their hearts. She had taken to them as they’d taken to her. It had been endearing to watch them ooh and ah over the child. Lass had accepted the admiration as her due and given back smiles and tongue clicks and her own mode of conversation.

  At that moment, Sam looked at Molly. Her heart lurched. He was so incredibly handsome in his suit and tie, his hair freshly trimmed, his face smoothly shaved. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his as he made his way across the room.

  Her father released her when Sam came up and put his hand on the small of her back. “Lass is getting fussy,” he said. “Shall we go?”

  She nodded, unable to speak past the emotion blocking her throat. Her mother gave her one more hug. “Be happy.”

  “Yes, I will,” Molly said, looking at Sam.

  The two men shook hands. Her brother, Gareth, joined them. “Be good to her,” he said as he shook hands with Sam. An implicit threat underlined the words. She frowned at him.

  He hooked a hand behind her neck and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Be happy, little sister.”

  Tears swam into her eyes. She and Gareth, who had been two years ahead of her, had been close during their high school and college years. He’d once been in love, but his fiancée had died in a car wreck, the victim of a drunk driver one rainy evening on her way to meet him. His grief had been deep and silent.

  “You, too.” She tried to think of someone she knew who might suit a high-powered attorney who argued cases before the Supreme Court. No one came to mind.

  A whimper alerted her to Lass’s distress. She kissed her brother and leaned into Sam. “Let’s go home.”

  A light flared in his eyes and was gone. He let her mother kiss his cheek, then, his hand on Molly’s back, he guided them to where Tiffany bounced Lass on her knee. When Molly appeared, Lass held her arms out to her. Molly hefted her new daughter into her arms. Lass settled sleepily on her shoulder.

  “She’ll drool on your dress,” Sam cautioned. He slipped a folded diaper under Lass’s head. “Let’s go.”

  Amid wishes of a happy future, muted in respect for the sleeping child, the newlyweds made their way out to Molly’s compact car. Sam strapped Lass into the car seat.

  They were ready to leave. He sighed in relief.

  Birdseed rained on them from the laughing crowd as he ushered Molly into the front seat. Everyone for miles around had come to wish the beloved nursery schoolteacher, who also taught Sunday school, he’d learned, good luck in her marriage.

  His smile became somewhat sardonic. Molly’s friends thought she would need all the luck she could get. He’d seen the concern on their faces during the hectic days before the ceremony.

  He fastened his seat belt, checked to make sure his two girls were okay, then drove up the winding lane to the road and out toward the ranch. Other drivers blew their horns upon seeing the ribbons attached to the car and the writing on the windows.

  On the way home, he thought of the difference between this second wedding and his first. He and Elise had had no friends to see them off. They’d been married by a justice of the peace in Roswell with no one but the old woman’s husband and a friend who happened to be visiting as witnesses. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, performed the day after the final quarrel between Elise and her father. They’d both worn jeans.
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  Glancing at Molly’s white dress, he struggled with a sudden ache. He wished he could offer her the same nervous eagerness he’d felt as a first-time bridegroom. He wished he could offer her his heart, pure and unsullied by reality. For some reason, he felt she deserved it.

  Molly, the good, the kindhearted.

  He made another vow. If, after a reasonable time of marriage to him, if she decided she wanted it to be real, he would be the best husband a woman could want. He’d cherish her. He’d be gentle. He’d never take his frustration or anger out on her. He’d remember the little things women were supposed to like, flowers and little surprises and all. He’d…

  There wasn’t a snowball’s chance that he could be that saintly. He sighed. He’d do his best not to hurt her, by deed or word.

  Molly’s heart lurched again when Sam turned onto the ranch road. She’d been having a lot of trouble with that organ during the past few days. Whenever she thought of Sam, it would leap around like a bronco in a rodeo.

  She hadn’t seen much of him during the preparations for the wedding. He’d been busy at the ranch. She’d volunteered to take Lass home with her the nights his work kept him late.

  Now they were a family.

  Smoothing the satin skirt of her dress, she thought of the night ahead. The sun was setting. Soon it would be dark.

  “Here we are,” Sam said, bringing her out of her mood.

  Tension knotted her stomach.

  “I’ll pull into the garage later. You might snag your dress.” He paused, then added, “You were very beautiful today. You are beautiful. I know you don’t think so, but… you are.”

  His words warmed her clear through. “Thank you,” she managed to murmur. Honestly, she’d never get through the evening if every little thing got her all choked up.

  She fumbled with the door and finally got out. Sam lifted Lass, car seat and all, and carried her into the house, motioning for Molly to go first.

  The ranch house seemed warm and welcoming. She hadn’t moved any of her things from her house yet, but she had plans.