by Sherry Lewis
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Nothing? Are you crazy?”
A loud thud sounded from the bedroom and Molly thought she had a reprieve, but a laugh from April and her call that she was fine put a quick end to it. “He has kids,” Molly said when she realized Jennifer was waiting for an answer. “Have you forgotten that?”
“Well, I wasn’t suggesting that you jump him at breakfast. You can wait until the kids are safely asleep in the house and then lure him to the cabin.”
“Lure him?”
“Put on something sexy and offer him a glass of wine.”
A wave of nostalgia swept over Molly. She hadn’t had a close girlfriend in years, and she’d missed this kind of teasing banter. “I didn’t bring anything sexy with me, and I don’t have wine at the cabin.” She tapped her cheek and pretended to consider. “But maybe I could lure him with my sweats and T-shirt, and seal the deal with a straight shot of root beer.”
Jennifer bobbed her head enthusiastically. “I say, if it works, go for it.”
What would Beau do if she took Jennifer’s advice? Molly wondered. It made a nice fantasy, but letting herself get carried away would be a big mistake. “I can’t do that. Not only am I a little rusty at the fine art of romance, but I’m not staying long, so it would be a very short romance—and that’s all Beau and I could ever be. It wouldn’t be worth the trouble it would cause.”
Jennifer opened her mouth to argue, but her mother chose that moment to burst into the kitchen, talking as if they’d all been carrying on a conversation the entire time. “I knew that pair of garnet earrings was behind the dresser, but do you think Jim would pull it out and find them for me? Sometimes that man is enough to try the patience of a saint—though everyone knows I’m no saint.” She held out her hand and showed Molly a pair of earrings so delicate the stones seemed to be suspended on strands of spun silk. “Do you remember these? I think they’re my favorites.”
Molly gasped and reached for the earrings, then instinctively pulled back her hand and looked to April for permission.
April moved them closer. “Go ahead. Take them. Your mother did exquisite work, didn’t she?”
Molly nodded and carefully picked up one of the earrings. They’d been made for pierced ears, and two thin strands of wire curved away from either side of the hook, then swept downward and met to form a delicate cradle for the gemstone. “They’re so beautiful. It’s hard to believe my mother made these.”
“She had a real gift,” April said wistfully.
“I used to help her when I was younger, but I know I disappointed her when I got into high school.” Molly returned the earring and battled a stab of guilt. “I was too caught up in my own little world. School and friends and boys.”
“And that made you a typical teenager, so don’t you feel bad.” April lowered a small jewelry box to the table and lifted the lid. “Take your time. Look them over. You don’t find craftsmanship like this every day.” The kettle began to hum, but she didn’t turn away. “I hope looking at them will help.”
“I’ve been thinking about taking up where she left off,” Molly admitted aloud for the first time. “I’d like to sketch these before I go, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, of course I don’t mind. In fact, why don’t you take them with you for a day or two? I think I can survive that—as long as I get them back.”
“Thank you.” Molly couldn’t believe her luck. She lifted an intricate bracelet made of tiny seed pearls and turned it over in her hand. “I don’t know if Jennifer told you, but I don’t remember Mom’s accident or the last six months she was alive. That’s really why I’m here.”
Jennifer took charge of the kettle. April pulled several pieces of jewelry from the box and took what felt like forever to spread them on the table for Molly’s inspection. Molly held her breath, afraid to do anything that might disturb her.
“Your dad never told you?”
“He wouldn’t talk about it.”
“No.” April smiled sadly. “I suppose he wouldn’t. That time probably wasn’t something he liked to think about.”
Something in her tone left Molly oddly unsettled, but she told herself it was only her imagination. “I’d be happy if I could just remember what happened the day she died. I don’t even remember the last conversation we had. I’d love to know the last thing I said to her.” Her voice cracked, but she made herself go on. “Or the last thing she said to me.”
Jennifer started back with the tea tray and April made room for it on the table. “I suppose there’s nobody left who can really tell you those things, is there.”
Molly’s throat tightened, but she managed to speak. “No. And maybe I’ll just have to accept that there are some things I’ll never know.”
April set out three small plates and put the cookies in the center of the table. “The only two people who know what happened in your parents’ marriage is the two of them. The most anyone else can do is speculate about why things happened the way they did.”
Molly’s heartbeat slowed ominously. “If you know something, won’t you please tell me?”
April seemed surprised by the question. “But I don’t really know anything at all. There was a lot of talk at the time, but it was mostly just guessing. I don’t suppose any of us will ever know for sure what came between them.”
For a moment Molly could have sworn that time stopped. “Are you saying that my parents were having trouble in their marriage?”
“She didn’t know?” April shot a confused glance at Jennifer.
“I don’t know,” Jennifer said, and at her mother’s expression of outraged disbelief, added, “I was a teenager. I didn’t care about things like other people’s marriages. I was completely freaked out by the idea that somebody’s mom could actually die. I didn’t want to even hear about it.”
“You must be wrong,” Molly said to April, her head beginning to pound. “My dad would have told me if they’d been having trouble in their marriage. And besides, surely I’d remember something like that.”
Jennifer nudged the cookies toward Molly. “Not necessarily. Remember Stacy Edwards? She married this guy from over in Star Valley who turned out to be an alcoholic and abusive. Things were really bad for several years before she left him. Even after all this time, there are things she doesn’t remember about the years she was married. It’s like her mind went into self-protective mode or something.”
Molly shook her head sharply. “That’s not the same thing at all.”
“Your mind has shut out those months for some reason.”
Before Molly could protest, April continued, “Honey, I know this must upset you, and if I knew anything more for certain, I’d tell you. But all I can tell you is gossip and hearsay, and that won’t help. I’ll tell you who you ought to talk to, and that’s Clay Julander.”
Although Molly scoured her memory, she came up blank. “Clay Julander?”
“Beau’s uncle,” Jennifer explained. “You remember him, don’t you? Big guy. Worked for the police department for years. He’s retired now, but he used to drive around town in that old blue truck with his dog in the back.”
Molly nodded slowly. “He used to say the dog was his deputy, didn’t he?”
“That’s right. You remember him, then?”
“Yes, but…” Way in the back of her mind, a horrible possibility tried to reach her, but she ignored it. “I don’t understand why you think I should talk to him.”
April’s eyes filled with sympathy and Molly knew what her response was going to be. She battled the urge to leave, to run, to plug her ears and scream so April’s words couldn’t reach her. But maybe for the first time in her life, the need to know was greater than the need to forget. She forced herself to sit in her chair and hold on to a teacup covered with delicate yellow roses, while April said what she must always have known.
“Sweetheart, Clay’s the one who responded to the calls every time your parents had one of their disagreeme
nts. You talk to him. If anyone knows what went on at your house the night your mother died, he will.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MOLLY DROVE BACK to Beau’s house in a daze. A sense of unreality and inevitability left her shaken and uncertain. She’d have to talk with Beau’s uncle soon, but she didn’t want to face it just yet. She needed time to adjust to what April had told her, and she wasn’t sure she could face Clay alone.
The sudden need to have someone with her seemed odd. She’d spent so much of her life alone. Without family, except her dad. Without close friends. Without emotional support. Before she came back to Serenity, she’d felt strong enough to handle anything on her own.
Now, even with April’s small jewelry box on the seat beside her, she felt weak and shaky. She wanted to talk to Beau before she did anything else. She just didn’t understand why. She could have turned to Elaine. She’d have found a willing shoulder and a listening ear if she had. But whether or not it made sense, whether or not it was smart, she wanted to talk to Beau.
He had his hands full with Homecoming, with his kids, his house and his job. He didn’t need Molly’s problems on top of his own.
She pulled into the driveway a few minutes before three o’clock, and when she realized that his Cherokee was gone, her bleak mood grew even bleaker. Already, afternoon shadows stretched across the lawn and clouds had begun to gather on the horizon. The temperature had dropped sharply while she’d been with Jennifer and April, and the chill she felt now matched her mood exactly.
Still hoping that Beau might be home, she climbed out of the car and started toward the house. She’d only gone about halfway up the long walk when a movement caught her attention. She looked more closely and realized that someone was sitting on the corner of the back porch. Brianne.
The girl’s feet dangled off the edge of the porch and she was leaning forward, elbows propped on her knees, and holding a small black box in both hands. Molly spotted a toy car turning circles on the sidewalk and realized that Brianne was playing with one of Nicky’s toys. Even so, the set of her small shoulders and the look on her face didn’t belong to a happy child.
Molly wasn’t sure she could handle one of Brianne’s moods, but the girl had already seen her, and her obvious unhappiness jerked Molly out of her own misery. She might be nursing old pain, but Brianne’s crisis was happening right now.
As she stepped onto the walk, the toy car stopped spinning circles and began to race down the sidewalk toward her. Brianne’s lips curved into a sly smile, but Molly dodged the car easily and kept walking toward the house.
The high-pitched whine of toy tires on concrete told her that the car was on her tail. She glanced over her shoulder just in time to avoid a second near-collision and sidestepped the car once more before she reached the porch.
One look into Brianne’s pain-filled eyes wiped away her irritation. Brianne was a child. Hurt and confused and, judging from the expression on her face, extremely upset about something. Molly had no idea what to do for her, but her own longing for someone to talk to was too strong, and Brianne’s distress too evident to ignore.
For the first time in years, she didn’t run away from the questions about the child she’d lost. Would she have been like Brianne? If her child had lived, Molly would have learned how to handle the sadness, joy, misery and pain that came along with adolescence, but her child hadn’t survived, and she felt completely out of her element now.
To avoid future car attacks, she stood on the bottom step. “You’re home early, aren’t you? Didn’t you have school today?”
Brianne met her gaze slowly, and the disdain on her face made it clear that she found Molly’s presence offensive. “Why do you care?”
So they were back to square one. Molly shrugged and let her gaze trail away so the girl wouldn’t feel challenged. “I don’t, really. I’m just talkin’.”
From the corner of her eye she saw Brianne register surprise, but the sullenness quickly returned and she brought her attention back to the box in her hand. “You don’t have to pretend to like me just to impress my dad.”
Molly felt a stab of pain at the girl’s unhappiness and a flash of anger with Heather for walking away from her children and leaving them to work through all the issues her departure had created. She lowered her purse to the step and slipped her keys into her pocket. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Actually, no, it isn’t.” Molly moved a few inches closer to where the girl was sitting. “I don’t pretend to like people, Brianne. That’s dishonest.” The girl cast her a skeptical look and Molly smiled. “I was always taught to tell the truth, and I’m not going to change that now.”
For a heartbeat Molly thought she’d made an impression. But Brianne looked away again and gave a snort. “You really expect me to believe that you like me?”
Molly’s heart twisted. How was a child supposed to believe in herself when her mother didn’t appear to care? At least Molly had never had to experience that kind of rejection, and she wished she could take it from Brianne. She sat on the edge of the porch, almost close enough to touch the girl, but far enough away to leave her space. She let her legs dangle over the side and kicked her feet gently.
“The truth is, I don’t know whether I like you or not. We really haven’t had a chance to figure that out yet, have we?”
Brianne raked her gaze over Molly before looking away again. “I know that I don’t like you.”
“You don’t know me, either. I think what you do know is that you don’t want to like me.” Molly watched the toy car circle on the walk while Brianne pretended to ignore her. When she figured the girl had had time to absorb what she’d said, she pressed on. “I understand a little of how you feel. My mom died when I was a bit older than you, so it was just my dad and me for a long time. Then one day, he brought home this lady.”
Brianne’s eyes flickered toward her, then darted away again.
“She was very nice,” Molly went on, “but it took me a while to figure that out. I did just what you’re doing. I decided that I wasn’t going to like her, and I made sure she knew it.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Brianne said, but her protest didn’t hold much conviction.
“I didn’t have a remote-control car,” Molly said with a conspiratorial grin, “but I think I might have used it on her if I’d thought I could get away with it.”
The car stopped spinning and silence stretched between them for a long time. “What did you do to her?” Brianne asked at last. Her voice sounded slightly less hostile—at least, Molly thought it did.
“Well, I was older than you are when she came along, so I couldn’t put too much salt in her dinner or food coloring in her shampoo, but I thought I could talk my dad out of falling in love with her in other ways.” She grinned sheepishly. “Dad liked to jog, and staying in shape was really important to him, so I thought he might not fall in love with Cassandra if I helped him notice that she ate too much. And he really hated owing people money, so I made sure he realized that she liked to shop, and every time I saw her wearing something new, I told him.”
Brianne’s lip curled into something resembling a smile. “Did it work?”
“No. He married her, anyway. And now she’s the only family I have in the world.”
“That’s too bad.”
“No, I’m very lucky, really. At first, the only thing we had in common was the fact that we both loved my dad, but we became friends eventually. She’s a nice lady, and without her I’d be completely alone. My dad’s gone, I’m divorced, and I don’t have kids of my own. The holidays are right around the corner, and I really don’t want to be alone. With Cassandra around, I might have somewhere to go for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and there’s still someone in the world who’ll call on my birthday. I’m awfully glad I didn’t manage to run her off.”
Brianne didn’t say anything, but she swept Molly’s face with a slow, assessing glance.
And that was enough. For now.
Molly stood and dusted the backside of her jeans. “It’s okay if you don’t like me, Brianne. I’m not here to stay. But one of these days, your dad might bring home somebody new, and I hope that you’ll give whoever she is a chance before you start attacking her. She might turn out to be pretty cool once you get to know her.” Molly turned away, then decided to take another gamble. “If it’s okay with you, I’ve decided that I really do like you, and I’d like to be friends. You can think about it and let me know.”
Brianne still didn’t speak, but Molly didn’t expect her to.
It didn’t occur to her until she’d closed the door behind her that while she’d been talking to Brianne, she’d forgotten all about her own worries for a few minutes.
THE NEXT MORNING, Molly pushed a cart filled with groceries across the nearly empty parking lot at the FoodWay. A handful of cars and two mud-splattered pickup trucks were parked close to the store. She didn’t recognize any of them, but the instinctive expectation that she might surprised her a little. She’d only been in town a week, but in her unguarded moments she was already beginning to feel as if she belonged here.
Like coming home.
Beau had been so busy the night before during the game, she’d only seen him for a minute. Just long enough to learn that he was bringing his plane back to Serenity later this morning. Aaron would be picking him up in just an hour, and Molly wanted to do something to make the day easier for him.
He was on the go so much it was no wonder he got a little behind on the laundry and dishes. Overnight, Molly had come up with a plan to surprise him with breakfast, and she’d slipped away early to buy what she needed for the stuffed French toast she wanted to make.
Now, with everything in her cart, she stopped behind her rental car and began to load bags into the trunk. She worked quickly, enjoying the morning and softly humming a tune that had been playing on the PA system in the store. When she picked up the small bag holding the needle-nose pliers she’d found in the hardware aisle, a rush of pleasure made the whole day seem brighter.
