Sweet Nothings

by Catherine Anderson

  Molly couldn’t allow that to happen. Besides, even if she did want to run, what could she buy a bus ticket with, her good looks? She glanced down at her pretty new blouse, thinking of all the money she’d so foolishly spent on clothes. She was all but broke now. The little money she had left was in her purse. At last count, there’d been just over a hundred dollars.

  Her heart caught as she glanced stupidly around her. Where was her purse, anyway?

  Oh, dear God. She’d left it in the café.

  A hysterical urge to laugh came over her. She wasn’t just broke; she was penniless. She didn’t have the money to buy a cup of coffee, let alone a bus ticket.

  The realization brought her staggering to her feet. Jake was undoubtedly furious over her behavior in the eatery. What if he had left? That was exactly what Rodney would do, she knew. Bad behavior was always punished. What better way to punish someone than to leave her stranded for a few days? No money equated to no lodging and no food.

  Oh, God—oh, God. Molly imagined herself wandering the streets, digging in dumpsters for morsels of nourishment. If she sought shelter in the casinos at night, she’d be tossed out on her ear by security guards the instant she fell asleep. Inside of two days, she’d be half-starved, dead on her feet, and ready to kiss Jake Coulter’s boots while she begged for forgiveness. If he took a page out of Rodney’s book, he would grant her absolution only under certain terms.

  Molly’s heart was pounding so loudly that her eardrums felt as if they might burst. She had to find Jake and apologize before he took off and left her. Even now, he could be back at the truck, preparing to leave. No, no, no. She was better off getting married. Facing penury in Reno was not a pretty picture. She doubted it was a city that was kind to the homeless. People were far too involved with gambling and counting their losses to be in a charitable mood.

  Molly hit the swinging door with such force, her shoulder thudded against the wood. Her legs felt curiously disconnected from her brain as she spilled from the lounge into the casino area. The noise of the slots immediately pummeled her, jackpot bells ringing loudly, the whirring sounds of the machines and soft blips of music compounding to create a computerized cacophony.

  She tried to blank it out. Jake. Where would he have gone? She had to find him. If she apologized, maybe he would forgive her and go ahead with the marriage.

  “Molly?”

  About to plunge through the milling crowd to go in search of him, Molly was jerked up short by his deep voice. She whirled around, scarcely able to believe her eyes when she saw him sitting on a padded bench just outside the ladies’ lounge. One long leg extended, the opposite knee raised, he was slumped on the seat, his Stetson settled low over his eyes.

  In that lazy, slow-as-molasses way of his, he pushed to his feet. As he sauntered toward her, she saw that he held her purse clutched in one big fist. She pressed a hand to the base of her throat to slow her galloping heart.

  “I was afraid you had left.”

  He arched a dark eyebrow. “Why the hell would I do that?”

  He thrust the purse at her. When she took it, he clamped a hand over her arm. Molly braced for the cruel bite of his fingers, expecting him to exert unneeded pressure in his anger. Instead, his grip was only firm, not bruising.

  “Call me bossy and overbearing if you want, but don’t you ever run off like that again. Not without telling me exactly where you’re going first. Do you have any idea the kind of creeps who hang around these joints?”

  After imagining him leaving her, Molly was so relieved to be scolded instead that tears nearly came to her eyes. “No, what kind of creeps?”

  His hold on her arm tightened. “The kind who wouldn’t hesitate to back you against a wall and put a knife to your throat. That’s what kind. I was worried sick.”

  Not three minutes ago, she had envisioned herself digging through dumpsters to stave off hunger. The throbbing anger in his voice told her how wrongly she’d judged him. For all his faults, which were admittedly few, Jake was nothing like Rodney, and she never should have painted him with the same brush.

  What was wrong with her? All he’d done was order her a sandwich, and she’d gone clear over the edge. It was as if venomous spiders were caged in some dark, secluded part of her mind, and every once in a while, a few escaped to inject poison into her thoughts.

  “Didn’t you know I was inside the lounge?” she asked.

  He drew her around a woman who’d just won a jackpot and was hopping about in celebratory glee. “Not for certain.” He ground the words out, his jaw muscle ticking. “I had to go back for your purse and lost sight of you in the crowd. I hoped you had ducked in there. It was the only rest room I could find on this side of the casino, so waiting for you there seemed like my best bet.”

  He was leading her toward the front exit. Beyond the glass doors, she could see people milling about on the side-walk in a wash of brilliant sunlight. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere to talk.”

  “About what?”

  He shot her a hard look. “What the hell we’re going to do. What do you think?”

  Molly supposed it had been a stupid question. Following the pull of his hand, she walked obediently beside him, feeling like a recalcitrant child being taken to the woodshed. Oddly, though, she wasn’t apprehensive. Jake was nothing like Rodney. The fact that he’d waited outside the lounge for her was irrefutable proof of that. No games, no coercion tactics. Jake was just Jake, always up front with his thoughts and feelings. He’d told her that the very first night. “I’m not much good at beating around the bush.“

  Molly felt so small. His only sin had been to try his best to help her. Shame washed through her in waves. In that moment, every word Sam Banks had ever said to her came rushing back. He’d cautioned her dozens of times not to let the past influence her decisions now. “Turn loose of it, Molly. Your life with Rodney is over. It’s a whole new game from this point forward, with totally new players and completely new rules. Embrace that. Move ahead and don’t look back.“

  Sadly, it wasn’t that easy, Molly thought as they exited the casino onto the crowded sidewalk. In so many ways, she was almost well. But in others, she wasn’t, and she was starting to fear she might never be. Jake was nothing like Rodney, yet she constantly drew comparisons. As far as she knew, he’d never lied to her, yet she examined everything he said and did, analyzing his motives and reading between the lines. He’d never really tried to exert his will over her, either, but that hadn’t stopped her from thinking he was.

  It was fear that was trying to control her now, she realized, not the man who walked beside her. Jake had only been worried because she hadn’t eaten breakfast, and he’d been thoughtful enough to make sure she got lunch. Even worse, he hadn’t ordered her the kind of food he preferred himself, as Rodney would have done. No, he’d asked for vegetarian fare—a garden burger and fresh fruit. To someone else, that might be a small thing, but to Molly, it meant more than she could say.

  “Oh, Jake, I’m so sorry. I behaved unconscionably. I’m so sorry.”

  Never breaking stride, he sighed and released his hold on her to slip his arm around her shoulders. After giving her a jostling hug, he said, “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  Just that. No explanation, no flowery words. As they drew up at the corner, Molly searched his dark face. “You’re sorry? For what?”

  He moved his hand lightly over her sleeve, the warmth of the caress seeping through the cotton. “For everything,” he said huskily. The crosswalk light changed just then. He drew her out onto the street, his riding boots tapping out a sharp tattoo on the asphalt as he led her to the opposite curb. “For being a self-centered jerk. For railroading you into this. For treating you like a child at the café. You name it, I’m sorry for it. Hell, I even lost your coat.”

  Her coat? Molly realized her parka was missing. That he would even care about that at a time like this brought a wobbly smile to her lips.

  “I was
so upset when I went back to the café for your purse, I totally forgot it,” he elaborated. “When I went back a second time, it was gone.”

  “You got my purse, at least. That’s better than I can say for myself.”

  “Only because your identification is in it.” He drew her toward the outer edge of the sidewalk to circle an approaching elderly couple. “Classic. I knew you couldn’t marry me without ID. That’s me, always focused on my own agenda.”

  As they crossed yet another street, she realized he was taking her back to the truck. She knew then that he’d done an about face. The marriage was off.

  Twenty minutes ago, she would have been relieved. Now her emotions were a crazy mix of relief and apprehension. If he backed out and refused to marry her, what on earth was she going to do?

  After depositing her inside the vehicle, he circled to climb in on the driver’s side. The report of the slamming door preceded a heavy silence broken only by the sound of their breathing. The window glass began to fog. Molly fixed her gaze on the windshield, stupidly watching the steam collect in an uneven line above the dusty dash.

  Jake finally released a weary breath, folded his arms over the steering wheel, and rested his forehead on his wrists. The brim of his hat shadowed his features, making it difficult to read his expression, but the defeated slump of his broad shoulders spoke volumes.

  “Ah, Molly.” He sighed again. “I’m so sorry, honey. I should never have insisted on this. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He followed that with a self-deprecating laugh. “Strike that. I know what I was thinking. I just can’t believe I was thinking it.”

  Molly traced a circle on her jeans, hating the dejected tone in his voice. This was her fault, not his. She was the one who’d gone berserk in the café.

  “You only offered to help me, Jake. I don’t think that’s such a terrible thing.”

  “Yeah, I was a real prince. I offered you help, but only for a price. And for you, it’s a dear one.” He straightened away from the steering wheel. His dark face was drawn, his eyes lackluster. He searched her gaze. “Do you remember the night I told you an animal can’t be owned, that it chooses its master?”

  “Yes,” she said faintly.

  “The same holds true for people. Love can’t be bought. You can’t finagle your way into someone’s heart. More importantly, though we may sign documents to make it legal, marriage isn’t a contractual agreement. At least it shouldn’t be.” A suspicious shine came into his eyes. He swiped a hand over his mouth and directed his gaze out the windshield. “I want you as my wife, Molly. This morning, that wanting and my good intentions started riding double. You know what I’m saying?”

  “I think so.”

  He smiled slightly. “I lost sight of the really important things for a while, namely that no one should ever be pushed into marriage, no matter how sound the reasons behind it.” He drew his gaze back to her. “You aren’t ready for marriage. When you are, I’ll be first in line to pop the question and pray you’ll say yes. But I don’t want it to come about this way.”

  Molly hugged her waist. “So you’re backing out, then?”

  He huffed under his breath. “More like backing off. I guess I needed that douse of hot coffee in my lap to make me realize what I was doing. When ordering you a sandwich sends you into a tailspin, we’ve got some serious problems. They won’t go away just because we get married.”

  Molly appreciated the fact that he’d said they had some problems. He wasn’t pointing the finger or assigning blame. The fact that he wasn’t prompted her to say, “I’m the one with the problems, Jake.”

  “Your problems are my problems,” he said softly.

  “I wish that—” She broke off, searching for words. “I can’t explain what happened in there.” Pressing a fist to her chest, she gave him an imploring look. “I’m all mixed up inside. It’s like—I don’t know—like an ignition of some kind. One minute, I’m fine, and the next, I’m losing it. I get so upset I can barely breathe, and reason flies out the window. The first thing I know, I’m doing and saying things I never would otherwise. Like the night you took my rotor. There was no excuse for the way I behaved. None at all. I felt trapped, and I couldn’t get past that.”

  “Everyone loses it sometimes, Molly.”

  “Not in a restaurant.”

  “Yeah, even in restaurants. You just need time, honey I’m sorry I lost sight of that and started pushing you.” He drew in an unsteady breath. “We both need time, I think.”

  The way Molly saw it, there was no time. Rodney was closing in on her even as they spoke.

  “You need to resolve a few issues in your mind,” he went on. “And I need some time to show you I’m not the controlling bastard you think I am.”

  “I don’t think that.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, you do.” He held up a hand. “I don’t blame you for that. Don’t think it for a minute. You’ve been through a bad experience. Now I’m trying to herd you to the altar again.” He puffed air into his cheeks and rubbed his forehead. “I can come off like a steamroller sometimes. I don’t mean to, but there you have it. I don’t stop to think before I speak, and even when I do, half the time I don’t say what I mean.”

  Molly felt suddenly cold. She shivered and rubbed her arms. Jake swore under his breath and reached behind the seat.

  “Here, honey. Put this on.”

  Molly accepted the denim jacket he handed her. Instead of slipping her arms down the sleeves, she pulled the wool lining over herself. “I’m scared, Jake.”

  He swore again, then dragged a hand over his face. “I know. Who wouldn’t be? But, hey. We’re going to lick this. Rodney isn’t invincible, and there’s always more than one way to skin a cat.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that marriage isn’t the only answer. Granted, it’s the most surefire. But we’ve got options.”

  “Like what?” she asked thinly.

  “I had some time to think while I was waiting outside the lounge for you. How about if I hire you a damned good lawyer? I’m sure my brother-in-law, Ryan Kendrick, can recommend a sharp one.”

  Given her legal incompetence, Molly doubted they could find a lawyer willing to take her case. “What would you hire a lawyer with? You’re barely staying afloat financially as it is.”

  “I’ve still got some money in the bank.”

  “Isn’t that your working capital?”

  He shrugged. “I also have a few horses I can sell. I should be able to come up with enough for a hefty retainer fee. If not, I can always tap my sister Bethany for a loan.” He flashed her a grin. “She married into money. Her old man’s so rich, they’ll never miss it.”

  Molly remembered that afternoon in the kitchen after the stable fire when he’d picked the slivers from her feet. He’d said nothing then about selling his stock or being able to borrow money to cover the cost of rebuilding. Instead, he’d stared out the window with a hollow-eyed hopelessness, saying he’d be left with only a dream in his pocket if the insurance company refused to cover the damages. By that, she knew that Jake Coulter was a man who believed in standing on his own two feet. Borrowing money wouldn’t be easy for him.

  “If you sell your horses, won’t that seriously deplete your assets?”

  The crease lines deepened at the corners of his intense blue eyes as he frowned past her out the window. “Nah.”

  Molly knew he was lying. Not because he didn’t carry it off well, but because he couldn’t look at her as he spoke. “Oh, Jake,” she said shakily.

  His gaze jerked back to hers. “What?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t let you do that. Besides, it’s a long shot. Even if we can get a lawyer to take my case, there’s no guarantee he can help me. I’ve got a documented history of emotional instability, I’ve already been institutionalized once, I’ve been judged legally incompetent, and my adoptive mother will testify in court that I’m a basket case. Realistically, what are my chances?”

 
“Will your doctor testify on your behalf?”

  “I’m sure he would, but his professional opinion may be secondary if they put me in a different clinic. The attending doctor’s testimony will carry the most weight with a judge.”

  “It’s a chance we have to take. If we don’t get married, hiring an attorney’s your only hope.”

  “At what cost? The Lazy J means everything to you. If you deplete your funds and assets, you could end up losing the ranch.”

  This time, he was able to look her directly in the eye as he spoke. “The Lazy J doesn’t mean everything to me, Molly. There are other things far more important.”

  Molly realized he was referring to her. An awful ache filled her chest. For a second, she was afraid she would burst into tears. That he would do this for her—that he would even consider doing it—nearly broke her heart.

  “I won’t let you throw away your dream,” she finally managed to say. “Rodney’s already destroyed most of mine. I won’t let him take yours, too. I won’t.”

  “Sweetheart, let’s be reasonable.”

  “I am being reasonable. That ranch has been in your family for generations. It was a miracle you ever got it back in the first place. If you lose it a second time, chances are you’ll never get your hands on it again.”

  “It’s only a patch of dirt,” he said. “I can always get another spread.” His gaze trailed slowly over her face, as if he were committing every line to memory. “The same can’t be said for a certain lady I know. She’s one of a kind.”

  Molly felt her chin start to quiver. Then, as if an invisible hand nudged her from behind, she launched herself across the seat and into his arms. “Oh, Jake,” she cried, nearly strangling on a suppressed sob as she hugged his neck. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”