Molly Darling

by Laurie Paige

  “Lass,” Sam said tersely. “Her name is Lass. Or Elizabeth Gail if you prefer to be more formal.”

  “How is she?” Elsie asked.

  She wore such a pathetically eager expression that Sam felt sorry for her. The woman hadn’t seen her granddaughter since Sam had taken Lass home from the hospital. He hadn’t thought to invite the woman over to the ranch.

  “You can come see her.” He gave William a warning glance, then spoke again to the timid woman. “But come alone. You can visit with Lass, but no one else.”

  William leaned across the desk with a roar. “She’s not going to visit anywhere. You seduced my daughter and sweet-talked her into marrying you, but you’re not going to ruin my granddaughter’s life the way you ruined my girl’s. If she’d come home to us, she’d be alive today.”

  Tisdale knew how to kick a man where it hurt the most. Sam flinched inwardly, but showed no emotion.

  “She left this house because you made her life miserable,” he said, interrupting the tirade. “Whatever else was between us, she trusted me. She left me in charge of her inheritance, not you. And every penny of it is in an irrevocable trust for Lass.”

  “An irrevocable trust!” Tisdale exclaimed. His face turned pale. He slumped into the richly padded leather of the executive chair. “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true. And in case you get any ideas about my dying soon, my attorney and the bank are the alternate trustees. I’ve made provisions for Lass’s care as well.”

  Tisdale assumed an aggrieved air. “The child needs her own family. No court in the world would give her to someone who isn’t blood kin, and I know you don’t have living relatives.”

  “But they would give her to her mother.”

  “Her mother,” Elsie echoed. She swayed as if a wind whipped around her frail body, as if she might snap right into pieces. “Elise… Elise is dead. Lass has no mother.”

  Sam took the woman’s arm and led her to a chair. She collapsed into it, uncontrollable tremors running over her.

  “Yes,” he said gently, “Elise is gone.”

  “Thanks to you,” William snarled behind him.

  Sam faced the man and his unreasoning hatred and greed. “But I’m not. I’m alive. I can marry again and give Lass the family you say she needs. My wife would be her mother.” He smiled at this winning thrust.

  “Wife?” Tisdale taunted. “What decent woman is going to take a man everyone knows married his first wife for her money, then forced her to have the child that killed her?”

  Sam took a deep breath. “My fiancée,” he replied calmly. “Molly Clelland.”

  Chapter Five

  Molly clapped her hands and led the singing while Tiffany banged away on the old upright piano in the corner. The twenty preschoolers marched around in a snaky circle, some with drums and triangles, which they clanged with great enthusiasm while the rest sang.

  It wasn’t until the door opened and Sam entered that she realized he was on the place. Tiffany had opened the nursery that morning while Molly ran errands. She hadn’t seen Sam when he’d brought Lass.

  Heat rushed into her face and neck. She hoped she wasn’t as bright red as she felt.

  The morning after. Although this was a couple of days later, she understood that expression perfectly now and wondered if she would be less or more embarrassed if they had consummated that torrid session in her kitchen.

  Smiling with a calmness she was far from feeling, she left the children and crossed to Sam’s side.

  “Hello,” she said above the din. She bravely met his eyes, then as quickly looked away. She didn’t know how to handle the fact that this man had seen more of her than any living person. Except her doctor, who was also female, and of course her mother had taken care of her when she was little.

  But no one knew her body the way he did.

  Saturday night, with her blood hot—another expression she could now fully appreciate—and her mind in a whirl, her wanton conduct had seemed natural and right. But in the cold light of day…

  Oh, heavens, those clichés… they were all too true.

  “I need to talk to you,” Sam said, leaning near her ear so he wouldn’t have to shout. “It’s important.”

  Misgivings churned like a whirlpool in Molly’s stomach. Something was terribly wrong. She’d never seen him look so grim. Or angry. She nodded.

  Looking across the room, she caught Tiffany’s eye and motioned that she was going to step outside. Tiffany nodded and, not missing a beat, took over the singing, adding her voice to the children’s boisterous trebles.

  In the crib, Lass slept through the racket without a twitch. Molly saw Sam’s eyes on his daughter. She recognized the fierce vulnerability he tried to hide.

  Grabbing her jacket, she led the way outside. Sam followed and walked with her along the path. She headed for the creek, which had calmed into a gurgling, fast-running brook.

  He stood by her without speaking for a couple of minutes. Instead he looked into the clear water as if seeking answers to questions he couldn’t speak aloud. She waited.

  Finally, he turned to her. “Saturday night,” he began. He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Something’s come up…”

  Her gaze flew to the snug-fitting jeans and the point where his zipper started.

  His snort of laughter was harsh. “Besides that.”

  A wild blush erupted. This time she didn’t have to wonder. She knew she was as red as the proverbial beet. Her knowledge of the male anatomy wasn’t as clinical as it had once been, and her dreams of late had been shocking. She folded her arms across her. waist and waited for the bad news.

  “Molly.” His eyes searched hers.

  She saw supplication in those lucid depths, but she didn’t know what he wanted from her.

  “Ah, God, Molly, I’m sorry,” he murmured and surprised her by taking her into his arms.

  She didn’t know if he was trying to comfort her or be comforted, but whatever, it was obvious something was troubling him.

  “Sam, what is it?” She put her arms around his waist. He’d been working and hadn’t stopped to change clothes. His scent reminded her of sunshine and hay fields and of… um, yes, of horses. She breathed deeply.

  “How can I help?” she asked, leaning her head back to gaze into his troubled expression.

  “Would you consider marrying me?”

  She waited for the words to make sense. It had sounded as if he’d asked her to marry him. “I beg your pardon?”

  His grin was brittle. “Yeah, I know. I’ve probably shocked your logical little brain, but after Saturday night… we have to get married.” He finished the sentence in a rush.

  She still couldn’t figure this out. “My brain is full-size, I’ll have you know,” she informed him, convinced he was making a joke and she was the brunt of it. She hadn’t thought he was a cruel man, but now she wondered.

  Sam touched her forehead, then lifted a strand of hair that blew to and fro in the mild March breeze. The air was crisp but balmy, the sky was clear, the sun was shining. All should have been right with the world.

  When Molly peered into his eyes, her own lucid gray ones confused and somewhat wary, he experienced a desire to gather her close and protect her from all the hateful things in the world. She would be mortified if she heard the rumors flying around the county about them.

  At the gas station, when he’d stopped to fill the truck, he’d nearly gotten in a fight with a ranch hand from the spread east of his place. Sam had gone to school with the man. The cowboy said he hadn’t realized the nursery schoolteacher was such a sexy dish until Sam started taking her out.

  “Let me know when you get tired of her,” the lout had said.

  Sam had informed him in deadly tones that Molly was his fiancée. By now, that statement was all over town. He had to let her know before she heard it from someone else.

  He didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of him, but he couldn’t let he
r be hurt. He hated Tisdale for forcing them into this position. He hated the gossipmongers of the town. Most of all, he hated himself for having put Molly into it.

  Molly, the sweet and innocent. Molly, the virgin.

  She hadn’t really known how to kiss. That had nearly blown his mind. But she caught on quickly. By the time they came up for air, she was giving as well as taking.

  He could still remember the feel of her hands running over his back, the sweet scent of her clean, delicate body, the sight of her translucent skin with the veins tracing faint blue paths on her breasts. He broke out in a sweat.

  Dammit, he was marrying her for her sake, not his. He’d not let sex come between them again. Not until she was sure she wanted the marriage.

  Marriage. The smothery feeling settled in his chest. His first marriage had been a disaster, once the passion wore off. But this was the only way he knew to protect Molly. The honor of his name, such as it was, was all he had to offer her.

  “I hate to rush you, but I have to have an answer,” he said, prodding her when she remained silent.

  “Now?”

  The word came out a startled croak. He had to smile. For once, the mouthy little schoolmarm was without the proper advice and reprimands, it seemed.

  He nodded. Pushing his hat off his forehead, he took her by the shoulders and faced her squarely. “After the other night, we both know it’s inevitable.”

  He looked away, unable to face the clear honesty of her gaze. He didn’t want to see the hurt in those eyes when she heard the rumors. He had to protect her.

  A hollow feeling hit him in the gut. Marriage. The thought of it weighed on his chest. He’d never had a friend like Molly before. He wondered if they could continue the same way after marriage as before—as friends.

  Maybe without the confusing issue of sex between them, they could. He’d give her that choice.

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to meet his gaze. “Yes, I know. It was…”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, feeling like the lowest snake in the world. He was using her, her friendship, the passion that had grown so unexpectedly between them. He had to tell the truth. “However, there’s another problem. Lass’s grandfather is giving me a hard time.” Well, that was part of the truth.

  Molly nodded. Others, as well as Sam, had told her of the troubles between him and his former father-in-law.

  “With us married, it’ll solve several problems. I need someone I can trust to take care of Lass. In case something happens to me,” he added.

  Her mouth puckered into its disapproving mode. She frowned at him. “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  “Not if I can help it,” he agreed with a grim smile. “But I have to be prepared. I have to know Lass is in good hands.”

  “I understand.” She stepped into his arms and hugged him fiercely, proud that he’d come to her. He hadn’t said the words, but none were really necessary. She knew his heart. And her own. “Of course I’ll’ marry you.”

  His embrace tightened into a bone-crunching hug. He lifted her from the ground and swung her around.

  “Help,” she cried, laughing with the joy that invaded her like a shining light. “You’re squeezing me to death.”

  He put her down at once and lightened his hold. “You won’t be sorry,” he murmured huskily, pressing his face into her hair. “I swear. You won’t be sorry.”

  “I know.”

  She snuggled against his shoulder, then with a daring she’d never had, she kissed along the base of his throat and up the cords of his neck.

  He laughed, and for the first time since he’d arrived and called her outside, she sensed the easing of anger in him.

  “We’ll get a license right away. Today.”

  “We have to get blood tests first.”

  His gaze was tender. “Ever the practical one. Okay, let’s go do it.”

  “Wait!” she pleaded when he started off for his truck, towing her along like a startled heifer.

  He stopped. “Make it fast.”

  She folded her arms and gave him the teacher’s stare, which didn’t daunt his good humor at all. He winked at her and waited.

  “First of all, a marriage is a partnership,” she began when she recovered from the charming grin he bestowed on her. “I intend to be a full partner, so don’t think you can boss me around.”

  “I am the boss. And I’m bigger than you.” He folded his arms across his chest, mimicking her and obviously enjoying himself now that he had her agreement to his mad plan.

  A delicious shiver splashed down her spine. Marriage. She hadn’t dared let herself dream of anything coming from their friendship. And now this.

  Of course she’d known how she felt, that she was falling in love and trying very hard not to. But now she didn’t have to hide her feelings anymore.

  Oh, love was wonderful! It was just like the songs said.

  “Second, I’m not going to have a hurry-scurry wedding like some kid in trouble.” Her neck grew warm, but she persevered. “The people at church will expect a decent wedding. My parents will fly out. My brother.” She totted the numbers up on her fingers as she counted. “And I want an engagement ring.”

  “My mother’s is in the strongbox at the ranch. I thought you might like it… you know, continuity and all that stuff.”

  She was pleased and touched that he remembered her little sermon about that and family names. “I’ll be a good mother to Lass,” she promised. “I already love her.”

  He heaved a deep sigh. “I know. That’s what makes this so much easier.”

  Easier? A strange word.

  “That and the fact that you’re such a good sport about it all. I’ll be a good husband to you,” he said. He hesitated as if unsure of his next words, then added, “I won’t rush you or anything. I promise. I know marriage will be new to you. We’ll take things slow and see how they work out.”

  She hadn’t the foggiest notion what he was talking about. A thought came to her. “Sam, how old are you?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “When was your birthday?”

  “A couple of months ago. My doctor can give you a written report on my health if you’re worried—”

  “No, no. It’s just…I’m thirty-two, and I wasn’t sure if you were a couple of years younger.” She peeked at him through her lashes. “I’m almost six months older than you are.”

  “That much?” He looked amazed. “You’re remarkably well preserved for an old lady.” Then he laughed before she could get more than moderately indignant. “We’ll have a proper wedding, but let’s hurry. It’s important to me that we get things settled as soon as possible. I’ll feel a lot better about Lass and the ranch when we’re married.”

  “Oh, Sam.” She hesitated, then flung herself into his arms, teary-eyed at his trust in her.

  “Let’s go get the blood tests. The nurse said she could take care of it whenever we stopped by.”

  “You’ve already asked?” Molly thought of people all over the county speculating about Sam’s plans.

  “Yeah. Can you leave now?”

  “Let me help Tiffany serve lunch. We can go during nap time.” She held his hand as they walked back up the hill.

  Marriage. She couldn’t believe it. She, who had made up her mind long ago that she was destined to spend her life alone and had actually been content with the idea, was marrying the most exciting man in the county!

  “Shall I tell Tiffany?” she asked before they entered the nursery. She felt shy all of a sudden.

  “The more the merrier,” he told her.

  A slight cloud appeared on her horizon of happiness at the grim determination in her fiance’s eyes.

  “Is there something more you’re worried about?” she asked.

  Sam looked into Molly’s beautiful gray eyes and saw her soul. Honest, trusting, candid. Molly thought everyone was as kind and decent as she was. She appeared happy about their marria
ge. He wondered if she thought she was in love with him.

  He shied from the thought. Love was just another name for lust, an insanity that made a man make mistakes. He and Molly were friends. Friendship was good. It would form the basis of a solid marriage. He would have to control his wayward instincts and forget the way she went wild in his arms.

  “Have another,” Mrs. Liscomb urged.

  Molly declined another cookie. “That was delicious.”

  The preacher’s wife fluffed the ruffles over her ample bosom. She served ornate teas at the parsonage on Sunday afternoons. Molly had been invited for the last serving. No one else was there. She braced herself.

  “It was certainly a surprise about your engagement,” Mrs. Liscomb told her.

  She gazed at the ring on her finger. The diamond flashed brilliantly in the light from the window. Everyone in town wondered if she knew what she was doing. All the old rumors regarding Sam and his first marriage had been dusted off and brought to her attention.

  “To me, too,” she admitted. “I mean, I knew how I felt, but I wasn’t sure about Sam.” Her tone said she was now and nothing could change her mind.

  “One doesn’t want to be hasty.”

  “No, one doesn’t,” Molly agreed. “Sam and I are both over thirty, so we’re old enough to know what we want. It wasn’t a snap decision.” After all, they’d been dating for a month before he’d kissed her.

  And what kisses they had been. She could hardly wait to try some more of them. When he had sucked and stroked her breasts, it had stirred the wildest sensations. She wished he would do that again.

  Heat rushed through her, and she was embarrassed at her own wayward thoughts. She would never think of her body in quite the same way as she had before that tender assault.

  Her most womanly assets were places of joy and pleasure, she’d learned, not mere physical representations that she was a female. She was still amazed at the potential for response that lived in her. She’d had no idea—

  “You’ve led a sheltered life.” Mrs. Liscomb was determined to carry through no matter how difficult the subject. “Sometimes a person can be overwhelmed by a man.” Two red spots erupted in her plump cheeks.