Sweet Nothings

by Catherine Anderson

  Her hand flew to her hair. She glanced down at her clothes, which were wrinkled from traveling. “I’m a mess.”

  He grinned. “You look better than I do.”

  Molly stared at the house. “Are your parents here?”

  Jake reached across the cab to touch her shoulder. “Don’t bolt on me. My mom and dad are the salt of the earth.”

  Molly took that to mean yes. She gulped. At the moment, she didn’t care how nice his parents were. She wasn’t ready to meet them yet. They couldn’t be happy about their eldest son’s sudden decision to marry, not to mention that he’d chosen to elope without notifying anyone. The only thing this awful day needed to make it complete was familial discord and censure.

  Jake piled out of the truck and came around to open her door. As he helped her down from the lofty four-wheel drive, he whispered, “Sweetheart, you look like you just swallowed a half-gallon carton of live guppies. Don’t be nervous.”

  “They aren’t going to like me.”

  “You’re absolutely right. They’re going to love you.” He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders as they set off for the house. “Just relax and be yourself. You’ll have my dad wrapped around your finger in two seconds flat.”

  Molly wished she were confident of that. “Are they going to be upset with us for running off to Reno?”

  He sighed. “Maybe. Under the circumstances, though, I’m sure they’ll make allowances.”

  “You’re going to tell them? About Rodney and the clinic, I mean?”

  He started up the steps, drawing her firmly along, his embrace comforting on the one hand, yet unbreakable as well, the firmness of his hold a silent message that there was no avoiding this ordeal, no matter how much she might like to. “Hank probably told them already,” he said. “The Kendrick brothers are here. It’s my guess he called in the big guns just in case I need help handling Rodney or the law.”

  Molly cringed, so embarrassed she wanted to die. “Talk about having your dirty laundry aired in public.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he reminded her. “You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Molly.” Once on the porch, he paused to hold her gaze. “Head high, shoulders straight. I’ll be right beside you.”

  For some insane reason, hearing him say that bolstered her confidence. She remembered how he’d stood beside her that morning, his booted feet spread wide, his big body braced for a fight. Jake Coulter was a man who could be counted on, no matter what. She had a feeling he would even take a stand against his family in defense of her, which made her chest ache with emotions she couldn’t and didn’t wish to name.

  When they entered the house, they were greeted by the smell of food preparation and the sound of voices. Molly expected to find the great room crammed full of people, but to her surprise, all the noise seemed to be coming from the room beyond. Jake led her directly to the kitchen archway, then fell back a step to let her enter just ahead of him. The awful thought went through Molly’s head that his lagging behind meant she would have to take the first bullet.

  The kitchen brimmed over with people. In a glance, Molly picked out three dark-haired women—a slightly built brunette in a wheelchair who was holding a newborn baby; a short, plump older lady who was stirring something on the stove; and another woman standing by the refrigerator next to a tall, jet-haired cowboy in neatly creased Wranglers and a white western shirt.

  As curious as Molly was about the women, her attention became riveted to the men. To her wary gaze, they all seemed to have been poured from the same mold. Tall, lean, and dark, they were, to a man, impressive male specimens, but the most interesting thing she noticed was the marked resemblance they all bore to each other. Two of them were Kendricks, if Jake was to be believed, so why did they all look so much alike? Was it something in the water around Crystal Falls?

  At first sight of Molly, Hank and the seven strangers turned in unison to stare. Then, as if by silent command, they all converged on her, crying, “Congratulations!” Molly was so startled by all the joyous shouts that she reared back against Jake. He caught her around the waist with one strong arm.

  “Unko Jake!”

  Molly glanced down to see a pint-size cowboy barreling toward them. He was the most darling little guy she’d ever seen. Perched upon his dark head was a black Stetson bigger than he was. His brown eyes danced with delight.

  Bypassing Molly, he grabbed Jake’s leg. “Up high!” he cried.

  Jake gave Molly a reassuring squeeze, then let go of her to scoop the child into his arms. “Who are you, partner? If this isn’t a fine how-do-you-do. I leave for a while, and when I get back, my house is overtaken by strange cowboys.”

  The child grabbed Jake’s ears, nearly knocking his hat off in the process. “I’m Jaimie. You know me.”

  Jake squinted as if to see the boy better. “Jaimie? Nah. It can’t be. He’s a little mite.”

  “I growed up!”

  Jake grinned. “I’ll be. It is Jaimie. What’s your mama been feedin’ you, boy? She needs to put a rock on your head. You’re sprouting up too fast.”

  The older woman who’d been working at the stove stepped forward. Molly had a fleeting impression of friendly blue eyes, a radiant smile, and a sweet, very lovely countenance. “You must be Molly,” she said, and then, with no further ado, gathered Molly into her plump arms for a hug. “She’s lovely, Jake. I guess I’ll have to forgive you for running off to Reno to get married. She’s too pretty to toss back.”

  Jake hadn’t relinquished his hold on the child, but he stepped closer, offering Molly his silent support. “There’ll definitely be no tossing her back, Mom. I finally found a keeper. As for eloping, I’m sure Hank explained that it couldn’t be helped.” He leaned around to smile at Molly. “This is my mom, Mary, sweetheart. She’s an incurable hugger, and she’s never in her life met a stranger. All I can say is, you’ll get used to her.”

  Mary flapped a hand. “Get away with you. If I can’t hug my new daughter, who can I hug?”

  Molly thought Jake’s mother was delightful, and she found the unexpected hug reassuring, the thought going through her mind that she would have at least one friend in the Coulter camp. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mary.”

  “Just call me Mom,” Mary chided. “Out of six kids, all I got was one daughter, and I had about given up on any of my sons bringing me home another one. This is one of the happiest days of my life.”

  A tall, dark-haired older man stepped forward just then. The family resemblance was so strong that Molly knew at a glance he had to be Jake’s father. Aside from the silver at his temples and the lines that had been etched into his bronzed face by years of living, he looked so much like her husband and Hank that it was uncanny.

  Nudging his wife aside, he grasped Molly by the hands to draw her away from Jake, whereupon he released her to give her a slow once-over with unsettling blue eyes. Molly felt a little like a mare on the auction block as he circled her. When he came to stand in front of her again, he caught her chin in his hand to turn her face this way and that. Molly half expected him to pry her mouth open and check her teeth.

  His gaze warmed on hers. Then he flashed a grin at Jake. “She’s a little on the short side, son.”

  Mary straightened her shoulders. “She’s as tall as I am,” she informed her big, burly husband.

  Jake’s father’s eyes danced with laughter. “Like I said, she’s a little on the short side, son.”

  Mary elbowed her husband in the stomach, making him grab for his midriff. He huffed and laughed even as his wife scolded him. “Leave off, Harv. The poor girl will think you don’t approve of her.”

  Harv assumed an expression of mock dismay. “Well, we can’t have that.” He smiled at Molly. “I definitely approve.”

  Jake lowered Jaimie to the floor. The next instant, Molly felt his big hands settle warmly on her shoulders. “I thought you’d like her, Dad.” To Molly, he said, “This is my father, by the way. He’s a little on the sho
rt side himself when it comes to manners, but he’s long on loyalty.”

  “Now we know where you got it, Jake!” Hank called out with a laugh. “You took after the old man.”

  Jake’s father smiled at Molly. “Welcome to our family, honey.” And with that, he followed his wife’s example and caught her up in his arms for a hug, the crush of strength around her ribs threatening to rob her of breath.

  As Molly slipped free from Harv Coulter’s embrace, a tall, jet-haired man standing beside the brunette in the wheelchair said, “Run while you still can, Molly, The whole family’s crazy. Worst of all, it’s catching, and pretty soon, you start to think they’re normal.”

  The woman in the wheelchair socked the man’s thigh. Molly knew instantly she was Jake’s sister. She had delicate features, but they bore the Coulter stamp, her eyes a blaze of blue, her small chin sporting just a hint of a cleft, her dainty jawline squared. “We are not crazy, just sort of—eccentric.” She rolled her chair forward. Cuddling her baby in the crook of one arm, she extended only one hand, which Molly grasped to be polite. “Forgive us, Molly. They’ve already started on the champagne and forgotten their manners. I’m Bethany, Jake’s sister.” She wiggled a hand free to pat her newborn. “This is your new nephew, Sly. Sylvester, meet your aunt Molly.”

  Still trying to assimilate the fact that she was married, Molly was startled to hear Bethany refer to her as the baby’s aunt. “He’s darling,” she found the presence of mind to say and leaned down to properly admire the infant. “What a handsome fellow.”

  “He’s a preemie and still a little small, but the doctor says he’ll catch up quickly. Judging by his appetite, I believe it.” She shot the jet-haired man beside her a teasing look. “This big-mouthed fellow is his dad. May I introduce my husband, Ryan Kendrick? I’ll warn you right up front not to believe a word he says. He delights in maligning my family.”

  Ryan laughed and extended a work-roughened palm. Pasting on a smile, Molly shook hands with him, whereupon she was somehow handed off to another tall, darkhaired man who caught her up for a second breath-robbing hug. “I’m Zeke, Jake’s brother, the second oldest.”

  “Hi.” Molly took in his cobalt blue eyes and chiseled features, which also bore the Coulter stamp. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Instead of releasing her after the hug, Zeke slipped an arm around her waist and led her across the room to where the third woman stood beside the jet-haired cowboy in the white western shirt. Molly knew even before the introductions began that the man was Ryan Kendrick’s brother. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the two looked enough alike to be twins. “Meet Rafe and Maggie Kendrick,” Zeke said. “Rafe is Ryan’s older brother. He and Maggie decided to crash our party.”

  Maggie laughed and rolled her sparkling brown eyes. “Don’t believe him, Molly. We’re family and don’t need an invitation.”

  Drawing his arm from around Molly’s waist, Zeke glanced over the top of her head at Jake, who stood just behind them. “I’m playing waiter. Would you and your bride like some champagne?”

  Jake gave Molly a questioning look. Then he shook his head. “Thanks anyway, Zeke. We’ll have some in a bit.”

  Maggie gave Molly a quick hug, then stepped past her to kiss Jake’s cheek. “Congratulations, cowboy. It’s about time someone got you snubbed down with a short rope.”

  “Shhh,” Jake joked. “She thinks it’s the other way around.”

  Maggie’s cheek dimpled in a mischievous grin. She linked arms with Molly. “That won’t last. Bethany and I will have her set straight in no time at all.” Meeting Molly’s gaze, she added, “I’m Jaimie’s mom.” She held out a hand to measure off the child’s height. “The little guy with the big hat? He insisted on coming to Unko Jake’s house. My sister Heidi is watching my daughter, Amanda.”

  “Your daughter, your son?” Rafe interrupted, his tone laced with teasing rebuttal. He winked lazily at Molly. “They’re my kids, too. To hear Maggie talk, I’m nothing but a hat rack.”

  “Easy mistake. There’s always a Stetson on your head,” Maggie pointed out.

  Touching the black brim of said Stetson, Rafe flashed his wife a wickedly sexy grin. “Not always. I take my hat off for one special lady on occasion.”

  Maggie’s cheeks flamed. For a moment, Molly didn’t get Rafe’s meaning. Then her face grew as warm as Maggie’s looked.

  Jake stepped in to rescue her. “Don’t mind Rafe,” he said with a laugh. “His mama taught him manners, but they didn’t stick.”

  Rafe slipped an arm around Maggie’s shoulders and drew her back to his side. “Come back here, girl. I need a leanin’ post.”

  His leaning post nailed him in the ribs with a sharp elbow. He pretended to struggle for breath. While he was hunched over, he took advantage of the opportunity to nibble on Maggie’s neck. She leaped and squeaked. “Rafe Kendrick, be good.”

  “I’m always good. Sometimes excellent.”

  “Am I going to be the designated driver tonight?” Maggie demanded.

  “Prob’ly.” Rafe reached for the champagne he’d set atop the fridge. “This stuff has a kick like a sawed off shotgun.”

  “That’s only his second glass.” Maggie sent Molly an apologetic look. “He seldom drinks. He had a problem with it a few years back, and—”

  “I didn’t have a problem,” Rafe objected. “It’s only a problem when you wanna quit and can’t.” He chuckled. “I never wanted to quit.” He nearly spilled his champagne as he bent to nuzzle Maggie’s ear. “Not until I met you, anyhow. Then I swore off.”

  “Maybe I’d better take him home.” Maggie arched her eyebrows and looked inquisitively at Jake. “Do you think? I’m afraid he’s a little drunk.”

  “Daddy, what’s drunk?”

  Everyone looked down to see Jaimie tugging on his father’s jeans. Rafe immediately sobered. With exaggerated care, he returned the champagne to the top of the side-by-side, clinking the base of the glass against the porcelain with an air of finality. Then he crouched to loop an arm around his son. “Well, now,” he said, frowning thoughtfully. “Drunk is one of the past tenses of drink.” He ruffled the child’s hair and hugged him close. “Your mama was just telling me I’ve reached the past-tense stage.”

  Jaimie climbed onto Rafe’s knee. He smiled happily up at Jake. “I’m not all the way growed up yet, so my dad can still give me hugs.”

  “What d’ya mean, I can still give you hugs?” Rafe put both arms around Jaimie and gave him a fierce squeeze. “I’ll always give you hugs, big guy.”

  “Even when I’m great big?”

  “Even when.”

  Hank called out that it was time to toast the bride and groom. With a flourish, he uncorked another champagne bottle and began filling Jake’s delicate crystal flutes, the ones that had been a housewarming gift. “Since I’m the best man who wasn’t, I get to do the honors first.”

  A series of heartfelt good wishes followed, some humorous, some poignant. Molly noticed that Rafe Kendrick took only small sips from his glass after each toast. When he caught her watching him, he winked at her. The message was clear. For the remainder of the evening, he planned to be a past-tense imbiber.

  Watching Rafe with Maggie, Molly felt a twinge of envy. They were clearly blissfully happy in their marriage. Jaimie and Amanda were very lucky children.

  After the toasts, everyone began milling around to visit. Molly was a little overwhelmed, to say the least, not entirely sure how to interact with such a large, boisterous group. As if Jake sensed her discomfiture, he kept an arm around her, moving from person to person to chat while everyone except Rafe and Bethany, the nursing mother, sipped champagne.

  When dinner was finally ready, Molly was touched to discover that the meal was vegetarian, compliments of Hank and the hired hands, who’d informed Mary Coulter that Jake’s new wife seldom ate meat.

  The teasing banter, which was nonstop, helped Molly to relax. Evidently sensing that she felt better, Jake quietl
y excused himself and went to collect his newborn nephew. Molly couldn’t help but notice the tender expression on his dark face as he took the baby from his sister’s arms. Unlike many men, he seemed completely at ease holding an infant. When the baby tried to suckle the button on his breast pocket, he smiled and offered his knuckle as a substitute.

  The conversation around Molly seemed to grow distant as she watched her new husband with the baby. Jake had removed his Stetson, and his dark hair fell over his forehead in lazy waves as he bent to kiss his nephew’s temple. There was such love in the gesture, and unmistakable yearning. Molly recalled the morning when he’d confessed to wanting a family. At the time, she had scoffed, but after watching him with Jaimie and seeing him now, she knew it was true.

  Jake Coulter ached to have a child of his own.

  A lump came to Molly’s throat. Shattered dreams. She, too, had always longed for a baby. After ten years with Rodney, she’d given up on it ever happening. Now, observing Jake, she felt a faint surge of hope.

  What if? He claimed to love her. Incredible as it seemed, after his offer to sell his horses to hire her an attorney, Molly was half-convinced it might be true. Did she dare to hope that this marriage might actually last? If it did, wasn’t there every possibility that she and Jake might have a family?

  The thought made Molly feel almost giddy, and because it did, she firmly shoved it from her mind. She’d walked that path once, and it had led to nothing but heartbreak. She was afraid to open herself up to that kind of hurt again. Jake Coulter was an extremely attractive, charming man. He could have almost any woman he wanted. Right now, he thought that woman was Molly, but she had no faith his feelings would last. She was too plain and dumpy to hold his interest for long, and if she let herself believe otherwise, it would nearly kill her when he developed a roving eye.

  Despite the thought, she found herself smiling or laughing more times than not during the meal, which was served buffet style, allowing the diners to recline wherever they wished to enjoy their food. Molly sat in the great room with the women. By meal’s end, she’d noted one marked similarity in all three of them. Whenever they mentioned their husbands, their eyes glowed. Molly couldn’t help but feel envious. What must it be like to love so deeply and be loved in equal measure? She couldn’t imagine it.