Dreamkeepers

by Dorothy Garlock

Evelyn laughingly said, “Jim will follow his nose right to the house.”

  With beef roast and potatoes in the oven, Molly took time to freshen up before their guest arrived. She bathed her face and slipped on a soft blue blouse and matching skirt. She wrapped her shining braids around her head and slipped her feet into slim heeled pumps. On an impulse she applied a touch of lipstick to her lips. “Dutch courage,” she told herself. With that thought, she turned back to dab a small amount of perfume to the base of her throat. She wanted this meeting to be over as she had never wanted anything else since the whimsical desires of her childhood. It was ridiculous, of course, because her father would have planned what he thought was best for her. She could almost hear his reassuring voice saying, “It will be all right.”

  Jim’s voice was coming in on the citizen’s band radio. “KGF-1452 . . . calling KFK-1369 . . . come in, Evie baby. Your ever-lovin’s callin’ . . .”

  Grinning, Evelyn picked up the microphone. “Jim, you idiot, everyone within fifty miles is listening!”

  “Ten-four, Evie baby,” Jim’s voice came back. “What’s wrong with them all knowing I’m your ever-lovin’?”

  “Nothing at all, but the radio is supposed to be used for business and not for . . . horsin’ around.”

  “Yes, I know. You are my business, Evie baby. See you in a few . . . KGF-1452 mobile down and clear.”

  Molly heard the plane go over the cabin and a few minutes later it landed on the lake. The girls threw light sweaters over their shoulders and went out onto the porch.

  Jim was striding purposefully up the path. Molly was surprised to see two men following Jim. She knew the shorter, heavier man was Herb Belsile, her father’s attorney. The other man was some distance away, but Molly was sure she didn’t know him and guessed he was one of Herb’s assistants.

  Herb approached Molly, holding out his hand. “Hello, Molly. I’m sorry we are meeting under these circumstances. Please accept my deepest sympathy. Charlie was one of my best friends.”

  “Thank you, Herb.” Molly gave him her hand. “Do you know, Mrs. Robinson, Jim’s wife? She has been kind enough to spend a few days with me.”

  Evelyn was standing in Jim’s embrace, but extended her hand to Herb.

  “Nice meeting you, Mr. Belsile. Molly and I hope you men are hungry. We’ve been cooking up a storm.”

  The third man had not come forward to be introduced. He was standing back, feet braced apart, staring at Molly. He was casually dressed in tan twill pants and a tan and green ski sweater. Molly looked at him and thought him handsome. He was looking directly at her and she couldn’t look away. His eyes were luminous black, and like his mouth were just there in his face, grave, quiet, and bitter. They remained on her and Molly found herself caught in a silent waiting game with him. Slowly those shining, bitter eyes looked over her from the crown of her head to the tips of her shoes, and back to her face. Her eyes flicked up warily and she looked straight in the dark fire of his eyes. His mouth went colder and he nodded his head in greeting, against his will, or so it seemed.

  Molly held her breath until her chest hurt, then breathed deeply when his eyes left her. He had measured her with his eyes for some purpose known only to himself, had estimated her, and found her lacking. A tightness crept into her throat. She merely stood there, hands at her sides, endeavoring not to clench her fingers with nervousness. He was the type of man to judge one on first impressions, she decided, with a mental sigh. At least it seemed to her that was what he was doing, because his dark face was wearing a positively thundercloud look.

  Herb was talking to Jim and Evelyn so Molly stole another look at the man. He was tall, very tall, with a broadness to go with it. He had dark hair that curled down on the collar of the turtleneck sweater he wore. He had a dark face, a tight jaw, and a bleak mouth. He doesn’t like me, she thought suddenly, and how foolish of me to care. With that she turned back to Herb.

  “Oh, Molly,” he said, “this is Adam Reneau.”

  Molly glanced at the man and nodded, but did not offer her hand. She turned from him and led her guests into the house.

  Jim kept up a lively conversation with Evelyn while they set the meal on the table. Occasionally Molly glanced at the man. She had a feeling his eyes missed nothing as he looked around the room. An uneasy feeling came over her that this stranger was assessing her home. Something akin to panic made her heart pound and she felt a compelling urgency to get this day behind her.

  During the meal Molly made little contribution to the general conversation. She was content to listen as voices echoed around and above her. She kept her eyes on her plate and tried not to look at Adam. The one time she let herself look at him she found the dark eyes watching her intently without much expression in them. Her chin tilted slightly and she said with a cool dignity that surprised her:

  “Would you like some pie, Mr. Reneau?”

  She served him silently, determined not to speak to him again unless it was absolutely necessary.

  “Very good pie, ladies,” Herb said. “Very good. Don’t you think so, Adam?”

  “It’s delicious, Mrs. Robinson.” His voice was deep and soft, not at all the tone he had used with Molly.

  “Oh, I can’t take any of the credit.” Evelyn gestured with her fork. “Molly baked the pies.”

  “Is that so,” he said dryly, making it a statement and not a question.

  “Oh, my, yes!” Evelyn rambled on. “Molly can cook circles around me any day. Charlie was proud as punch at the way Molly could cook. Why—” Suddenly she was aware she was embarrassing Molly when the color came up to flood her face.

  “Is that so?” Adam Reneau said again flatly.

  “Well, now . . .” Herb started to stand up.

  “Sit right here,” Evelyn insisted. “I’ll clear off these dishes. You’ll have plenty of room to spread out your papers and things. Jim and I have things to talk about. We’ll take Mr. Reneau out and show him around.”

  “That’s kind of you, Mrs. Robinson, but Adam will have to stay. What I have to tell Molly also concerns him.”

  Molly’s eyes flew to Herb’s face. Her future having something to do with this cold man? Impossible! And if Herb thinks he’s going to turn my affairs over to this . . . man, I’ll soon straighten him out about that. She blinked, opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it after one quick glance at that horrible man’s disgusted expression. She compressed her lips and cleared the dishes from the table and carried them to the sink. When she returned, she sat down at the table opposite Herb. Adam Reneau took the chair at the end of the table between the two of them.

  Herb got out his briefcase and piled papers on the table. He shuffled them around several times. It seemed to Molly he was ill at ease. He cleared his throat while going through the papers and beads of perspiration popped out on his brow. He was definitely uncomfortable and Molly’s anxiety grew.

  “Molly,” he said at last. “Adam already knows the contents of your father’s will and that is the reason he came here with me to explain it to you. But first, I want you to know, I did everything I could to talk Charlie out of this plan. When he first brought the idea to me six months ago, I told him then I thought it was an out and out harebrained scheme. Although, I can understand, to a certain extent, why he did it, even if you and Adam won’t.” His voice took on a pleading note. “He loved you more than anything else in the world, Molly. After you, he loved his work. I think he thought that by bringing you and Adam together he was doing his best for both you and his work.”

  “What does he want me to do?” It was strange and frightening to ask the question.

  Her face was so full of anguish Herb’s heart went out to her. He placed his hands over hers on the table and said as kindly as he could: “Your father wants you to marry Adam.”

  The surprise of his statement took her so completely, she went white and stared at him in terrible silence. Her body went rigid, her face set. Her lips moved, shook, and fell apa
rt.

  “I don’t believe it . . . Dad wouldn’t!”

  Her tortured eyes turned to Adam. Resentment. It was there in the grim line of his jaw and in the bitter unsmiling eyes. He leaned back in his chair, his grim face tight.

  “It wasn’t my idea, Miss Develon.” The mockingly drawled words were like a slap in the face.

  “Wait a minute, Adam,” Herb said firmly. “Let me explain things to her.”

  “Explain away, Herb, but I want her to know, straight off, that I don’t want to marry her. A year, six months, a woman never lets go once she gets a legal hold on you. You could figure a way out of this for me if you would set your mind to it.”

  “I tried, Adam. This will is ring tight and Charlie had the right to do as he wished with his property.”

  “Charlie knew how badly I wanted to work on this project or he would have never thought up this idiotic scheme.”

  “I know.” Herb spoke as patiently as if he were speaking to a child. “But in all fairness to Molly, she didn’t know of his plans.”

  “I’m not so sure. Women go to great lengths these days to get a rich husband.”

  “Adam, really! Why don’t you leave us and let me talk to Molly alone?”

  “Not on your life! I’m staying! This concerns me and I’m going to hear every bit of it.” He turned his dark eyes on Molly. With the faintest suggestion of a sardonic smile on his face, he settled back and folded his arms, as if that was his final word.

  This can’t be happening to me, this can’t be happening to me . . . the words ran through Molly’s mind over and over again. They are talking about me as if I’m not here, as if my opinion counts for nothing. Well, I can set that man’s mind to rest. I wouldn’t marry him if he were the last man on earth. He’s the most annoying, hateful, egotistical person I’ve ever met.

  Herb looked at his old friend’s daughter’s flushed face. She was a beautiful girl, twenty-five years old with the youthful look of innocence. Adam was a lucky man. She could have been ugly and dull. Herb felt a pang of compassion for her. This unsophisticated girl was no mate for the hard, experienced man sitting beside her. Almost ten years her senior, with more money than he could spend, plus his good looks, he was a prime target for designing females out on the prowl for a husband. This could account for his bitter outlook on life. Everyone that came in contact with him wanted something. Charlie Develon must have known him well and had plenty of confidence in him to trust him with his lovely daughter. A lot could happen in a year. Herb sighed and turned to the girl. He had to try and make her understand that her father had done what he thought was best for her.

  “Your father came to see me about a year ago, Molly. He was disturbed about your future. His heart wasn’t in the best condition, but that wasn’t what troubled him. He desperately wanted to go on this expedition he had planned for so long. Knowing there was a certain amount of risk attached to the trip, added to the fact his heart wasn’t as sound as it should be, he wanted to find a way to make your future secure.” Herb paused and reshuffled his papers.

  “The fortune he left you is considerable. Not a huge amount, but enough for you to live comfortably. What bothered him was the attachment you had formed for this house and this valley. I’m aware of your childhood and how you spent it and can understand the feeling you have for this house. Charlie was hoping he would live to see you married with children of your own.” He paused and shifted around in his chair, watching Molly with worried eyes.

  Her heart contracted painfully at the thought of her father carrying this burden of concern for her and she bit her lips to stop their trembling.

  Herb continued, “Charlie realized that if anything should happen to him, you wouldn’t be able to stay here alone. He didn’t want you to stay here alone. He was clear in his instructions about that.”

  Molly started to protest, but Herb waved her silent and glanced at Adam.

  “This is what Charlie wanted you to do, Molly.” His voice became stronger and took on a professional tone. “Charlie wanted you to marry Adam and live here in this house with him for one year. At the end of that time you can divorce Adam if you wish, and I can turn your money over to you and you can do as you want. You can live here alone or you can hire someone to live with you. You may wish to build some cabins around the lake, and turn this beautiful area into a hunting and fishing lodge, or you may want to sell it and go to the city.” Herb took a deep breath. “Let me finish. I need to tell you what to expect if you do not choose to marry Adam. In case you and Adam do not marry . . . ,” he looked nervously at Adam, who was looking intently at the kitchen range, “your Aunt Dora will have the control of your money for five years.”

  The expression on Molly’s face might have been amusing had the circumstances been otherwise. She looked positively stunned. She stared at Herb as if he were a man from outer space, and seemed totally incapable of speech.

  “Why? Why did he do this to me?” She was surprised to hear that her voice was so calm and even . . . and then not surprised, because a kind of cold numbing chill was gripping her heart, killing all feeling. “Why, Herb? Why did he want me to marry this . . . stranger, and why does this stranger feel he is being forced to marry me?”

  “In the first place, Molly,” Herb said after a pause, “Adam was no stranger to Charlie, and Charlie didn’t plan to leave you so soon. His intentions were to have Adam come out here to help him with his work and for you two to get acquainted. Now, in answer to your second question. Adam is a biologist and is working on the adaptation of living things to hostile environments and there are few environments as hostile as the Alaskan tundra. It would set Adam’s research ahead five years if he had access to your father’s files. Charlie knew this and planned to bring Adam in to work with him, but knowing his time might be cut short he made these . . . other arrangements. His plan was for you and Adam to marry and live here for a year. You would be in the home you love and Adam would have his files to carry on his studies.”

  Adam’s chair scraped the floor and he let out a snort of disgust. Herb gave him a slightly displeased look.

  “I want to finish, if you don’t mind, Adam. You know the rest, but Molly does not, so please be patient a little longer. Molly, your father has arranged for me to have the files destroyed if Adam refuses to marry you.”

  The words fell like a bombshell against Molly’s ears. It was incredible to her that her father would consider destroying his files, his life’s work. He always said his files were his contribution to society.

  Herb was talking again and Molly brought herself back with an effort to hear what he was saying.

  “I’m going to leave you two alone so you can decide what to do. You know the alternatives. Keep in mind the fact that Charlie knew you both very well and spent many hours carefully planning each detail of his will. I have a personal letter from him to give each of you. Think about what you want and what you have to lose if you decide to refuse the terms of the will. When you’ve made your decision, call me. I’ll be on the porch.” He took two sealed envelopes from his briefcase and handed the first one to Molly, the second to Adam. Then he left them.

  Molly looked at the letter in her hand. Tears flooded her eyes so she could hardly see her name on the envelope. She stood up, but kept her face averted from Adam. With trembling lips and with as much dignity as she could muster, she said, “Excuse me for a few minutes.”

  He got to his feet. “Certainly.”

  With head up and back straight she walked to her bedroom door on shaky legs. In the privacy of her room she allowed the tears to course down her cheeks unchecked. She cried softly, as a deer cries when wounded, or a very small animal when caught in a trap. Her tears splashed down on the envelope she still held tightly in her hand. The awareness of the loss of her father was more acute now than any time since the accident. Horrified at her lack of control, she took a tissue from her bedside table and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. After a few minutes she was composed enough to o
pen the envelope. With trembling fingers she unfolded the single sheet and began to read.

  My Darling Molly,

  Herb will have told you of my plan for you before he gave you this letter. I hope, with all my heart, that you will marry Adam. He is a good man. He needs a girl like you and you need a strong man like him. I know him well and trust him. He is the type of man who will appreciate a home such as you and I have enjoyed these past years. He will take care of you for a year and at the end of that time you will be able to decide for yourself the direction your life will take. Don’t be angry with me, my Molly. Trust me. I am trying to grab some happiness for you.

  Your loving Dad

  Molly reread the letter several times, returned it to the envelope, and slipped it into the drawer of her nightstand. She didn’t understand the last sentence. “Grab some happiness” . . . Did he think she would be happy with that man out there? Poor Dad. He didn’t leave her much choice. She had never known her father to make a hasty judgment or an uncalculated decision. In spite of her dislike for the man she would marry him, if he agreed. A year wasn’t really so long, considering the alternative.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A CALM AND composed girl went back into the living room. Adam had moved from the chair by the table to the couch by the fireplace and lounged there, his head resting against the back, seemingly lost in thought. He stood up when Molly came into the room. She didn’t see any sign of the letter Herb had given him from her father. Somehow she had expected to see it in his hand. He waited for her to sit down and indicated the chair opposite the couch, but Molly wanted to be standing on her feet when she told him what she had to say. She tilted her head so she could look him straight in the eye.

  “Mr. Reneau.” Her voice was calm and controlled. “I’m sorry you’ve been put in this uncomfortable position. If I had the authority, I would turn my father’s files over to you so you could finish your research, but as you know, I can’t do that. It would break my heart to see his life’s work destroyed. I’m willing to marry you, for a year, if it’s agreeable with you.”