Pierce stared at the certificate. It had been filed, stamped, and as far as he could tell, was a legal statement of his marriage to Mollie. What he held in his hand was the reason he needed to head east to Boston—to bring his wife home.
******
Pierce stepped off the train at the Boston station, feeling better than he expected after his cross country trip.
He’d been fortunate. Drew contacted Louis Dunnigan and learned his boss was leaving Denver for New York in three days. If Pierce could get to Denver in time, he was welcome to share Dunnigan’s private car. He’d packed and been on his way to Colorado within hours.
He picked up his satchel and walked to the street, flagging a carriage, and providing an address to the driver for a hotel Dunnigan had recommended. Before leaving Fire Mountain, Pierce had sent a message to Lee and Eva, requesting whatever assistance they could provide in locating Mollie. From New York, he’d sent them the name of the hotel in Boston where he’d be staying.
He was surprised to find a reply waiting for him at the front desk. Pierce ripped open the envelope to find they’d located an address. He remembered little about Boston neighborhoods from his brief stay several years before.
“Excuse me? Can you tell me how to find this location?” he asked the clerk.
“Let’s see. Oh, it isn’t too far, a few miles to the northeast, I believe. Shall I order a carriage for you?”
“Yes. Thank you.” Pierce looked at the inside pocket of his jacket, reassuring himself the marriage certificate was still in place.
******
The carriage bumped along the wide, busy streets before the road narrowed into a middle-class neighborhood consisting of well-kept brownstones. It was early evening. The carriage stopped several times as children followed errant balls into the street, riders exited overflowing horsecars, and merchants made last minute deliveries.
“Won’t be long now, sir,” the driver threw over his shoulder as the brownstones gave way to one-story shanties in an area where gas lights were few. The sun was beginning to descend and he noticed more than one home missing an address. He hoped the looming darkness wouldn’t impede his search.
Pierce knew there’d be hell to pay once Mollie saw the document. He’d wrestled with what to say throughout his entire trip and still wasn’t certain how to approach her. It still irritated him that she’d left their bed without a word, skulked out as if what they’d had meant so little. Hell, he’d offered marriage and she’d flatly refused.
Perhaps he’d take one look at her and not feel any of the stirrings of desire that had plagued him for months. Maybe her appeal would have diminished to the point he’d find himself wondering why he’d made the long trip east.
“Here it is, sir.” The driver halted the carriage in front of small, rundown home.
Pierce’s eyes roamed over the structure. He had a hard time imagining Mollie living in a place such as this when the money she’d earned on their last assignment would allow her so much more.
“Wait for me,” he instructed the driver then walked the few steps to the front door. The first knock brought no results, so he pounded more forcefully and waited.
Pierce heard the gruff voice as the door cracked opened a mere inch.
A stooped, thin-haired man peered out. “What you want?” he growled, his puffy, yellow-edged eyes looking out from under bushy eyebrows that matched his graying hair.
“I’ve come to see Mollie Jamison. Is she here?” Pierce tried to look around the man and into the house.
“She ain’t here.” He started to close the door, but Pierce stopped it with his hand.
“Wait, please. It’s important that I find her.”
The man opened the door a fraction more. “How important?”
Pierce understood and reached into his pocket, pulling out a roll of bills and peeling off a one hundred dollar bill. The man snatched it from his hand and stuffed it into his pants.
“She’s been here twice to leave money then left. Told me where she was staying.” He rubbed his stubbled chin between his thumb and fingers. “Wait a minute. She wrote it down.” He shut the door, leaving Pierce to wonder if he’d return. He could hear the sounds of papers shuffling before the door was pulled open and a scrap of paper shoved outside.
“Take it. I don’t need it,” he said before shutting the door in Pierce’s face.
He read the paper—the Tudor Hotel, Beacon Street. Pierce uttered a muffled curse then handed the address to the driver. The driver read the address and cast a questioning eye at his rider.
“Just take me there.”
“Yes, sir.” He snapped the reins, turned the carriage around, and started back in the direction of Pierce’s hotel.
******
The night had turned cold and damp. Pierce stepped out of the carriage, settled with the driver, walked into the Tudor and up to the reception desk.
“Good evening, Mr. MacLaren. Did you find the address?”
“Yes, I did.” Pierce cleared his throat. “Do you have a Miss Mollie Jamison registered?”
“Ah, let me see.” He grabbed the book and ran a finger down the page. “Yes, and her room connects to yours.”
“Is that so?” Pierce thought a moment, then pulled out the marriage certificate and set it on the desk. “She’s my wife. I’d like a key to the connecting door, please.”
The man took a cursory look at the document, handed it to Pierce then reached into a drawer for the key. “Here you are, sir. Best of luck to you.” The man’s amused smile was lost on Pierce as he took the steps two at a time and disappeared into his own room.
He tossed his hat on the bed, rolled up his sleeves, poured water into a basin, and scrubbed his face, trying to think. She was in the room next to him and he had the key to the connecting door. It was late, after ten, and he could hear nothing through their common wall.
Pierce paced to the door and put his ear to it, listening. The room was quiet. Perhaps she was out for the evening, or asleep. He wondered if he should wait until morning, as his head instructed, or charge ahead tonight, as his heart demanded.
He slid the key into the lock and opened the door. The room was dark, with only the light of the moon filtering in through the half-drawn curtains. His eyes adjusted enough to make out a form under the covers of the bed. He took one, then two cautious steps forward. The form shifted slightly and he could see Mollie’s golden blonde hair peek from under the covers. He walked to the edge of the bed and stared down.
Pierce watched her for several minutes, debating before taking a seat next to her. She stirred and turned her head toward him, a soft sigh escaping her lips. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of her after almost two months. His musings about whether she still affected him were answered in a half-second, his heart thundered and his body hardened.
He reached down to brush errant strands of hair off her face and stroked a finger down her cheek. She stirred again, her eyes fluttering at the contact. He did it once more. This time Mollie’s eyes flew open fully and stared in shock at the figure on her bed. She rolled to the other side, grabbed her gun from the nearby table, and aimed it at the intruder.
“What the hell do you want?” she demanded as her eyes tried to adjust and focus on the man before her.
Pierce stood, his hands up, palms out, at chest level.
“Hello, Mollie.” The words were smooth, not affected by the pounding he could hear coming from his chest.
“Pierce?” She held the gun steady while swiping at the hair hanging over her face. She took one cautious step closer.
“Yes.” He kept his hands up and his face set.
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Her voice calmed as she lowered the weapon and placed it back on the table.
He dropped his hands to his sides, making no move to get closer.
“I needed to find you and bring you back to Fire Mountain.” His voice was nonchalant, almost bored in its tone.
“Are you crazy? I’m not going back to Fire Mountain with you.”
“I’m afraid you have no choice. You’re my wife, and as any judge will tell you, your place is with me.”
She stared at him. “That’s ridiculous. Our marriage was a cover, part of our assignment. I’m not your wife and I’m not going back to Arizona.” The pitch of her voice rose which each sentence.
“Do you recall the document Noah had us sign before leaving for San Francisco? The one he said we might need if anyone questioned our marriage?” He arched his brows in question.
“Yes, of course. He kept it with him and said he’d send it to us if needed. Why?”
He reached into his pocket to extract the certificate and held it up to her. “He filed it. It’s a legal document. We are man and wife.” One corner of his mouth crooked upward as he watched her expression turn to disbelief.
“No. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, do that to us.” She snatched the document from his hand and read it. She glanced up once at him before returning her gaze to the certificate and tossing it on the bed. “How could he do this to us?” She moaned and dropped her face into her hands, coming to terms with the fact that she was legally tied to this man. Mollie looked up at him. “You did this! You persuaded Noah to file the form, make it legal.” She stood up and pushed Pierce backward with both hands, causing him to fall, landing in the chair behind him.
Mollie watched in stunned disbelief as he started to laugh. “What is so funny?” Her temper hadn’t eased a bit.
Pierce couldn’t control himself. He watched Mollie’s face scrunch in dismay, then turn to anger, then confusion, and all he could do was laugh harder. “You. Us. The mess we’re in.”
“It’s your fault, Pierce MacLaren, and you’re going to be the one to fix it.” She plopped back down on the bed in disgust.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but this is our mess, and you’re going to have to travel back to Fire Mountain with me to fix it.” He pushed himself up from the chair and looked down at her. “I did not put Noah up to this. It was his own doing.”
“Then he can fix it.”
“Won’t work. You and I have to do this together. Assuming, of course, that you truly do want the marriage to end.” His expression had turned somber.
Mollie looked up at him, the serious expression, the intense look in his eyes, and wondered—for only a brief moment—if staying married to him would be so bad. It was clear Pierce cared for her. The looks that passed between them, the way he touched her and made love to her, as well as the concern that was always present in his eyes. But would he ever love her?
Her initial outrage at the reason for his presence turned to hope.
She was in love with him. The last two months had been miserable. It had taken all her willpower not to purchase a ticket and board the train for Fire Mountain. Now, Pierce was in Boston, in her room, and encouraging her to go back with him.
“Is that what you want, Pierce, the marriage to end?”
“No, I don’t want to end it.”
“But you don’t love me,” she whispered.
He knelt beside her, took her hands in his, and pressed them to his lips. “Come back with me. We’ll see what happens. If in time you want out, I won’t stop you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mollie had seen the reality of their situation within moments of Pierce asking her to return. Regardless of whether she decided to give their marriage a chance as he wanted, or end it, as she thought was best, Mollie had no other choice. She had to travel across country to Fire Mountain. Her presence was required no matter which decision she made.
They stepped off the train to find Aunt Alicia, Meggie, and Connor waiting. Pierce had sent a message to Connor before leaving Boston, telling his brother Mollie was returning with him, as his wife. Connor had wasted no time passing the message around to the other MacLarens.
Aunt Alicia gave Pierce a hug then held out her arms to Mollie. “Welcome home. We’re so glad you’re now a part of our family.”
Mollie glanced at Pierce as she returned the hug, wondering what he had told his family. She hadn’t yet committed to staying, however, she’d learned something from Eva during their assignment, and that was to try to hold off saying anything until the time was right. Mollie hoped she could do it.
Meggie stepped forward to hug her new sister-in-law. Connor held back to the end.
Mollie had seen him on a couple of occasions, as both Pierce’s brother and the manager of the Desert Dove saloon, owned by Niall. He’d always been pleasant, but she’d noticed an edge, a hardness not typical of Pierce or Meggie.
“Hello, Mollie. Welcome home.” He stepped up and gave her a brief hug. “You’ll be staying with Grace and me until we’re able to get Pierce’s house finished.” He turned to his brother. “You’re going to like the spot Aunt Alicia picked out.”
Alicia had already planned a lavish supper that evening and everyone was present. Chaz had returned from San Francisco during Pierce’s absence and rode out to the ranch with Dodge and Meggie. Neither Chaz nor Drew seemed surprised at the news of Pierce and Mollie’s marriage, sparking the curiosity of the rest of the family.
“When did you get married, Pierce?” Kate, Niall’s wife, asked.
“About five months ago.”
“But, that would have been before you left for San Francisco,” Aunt Alicia commented.
“That’s right.” Pierce kept eating his dessert, resisting the temptation to look at the faces he knew would show surprise.
“Why didn’t you say anything back then, and why didn’t Mollie come back with you from San Francisco?” Will’s wife, Amanda, asked.
“It’s complicated,” he answered and glanced over at Mollie who sat stone still, her hands in her lap, and looking like she wanted to disappear under the table.
Connor leaned back in his chair and studied the two. Pierce hadn’t confided in him why’d he’d suddenly decided to leave for Boston. He had thought his brother had finally figured out he loved Mollie and had gone to tell her. That didn’t fit with what he saw tonight. Connor knew something had been amiss, now he thought he understood what it was.
Connor let the front legs of his chair hit the ground as he leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. “Why don’t you share with us exactly what’s going on, Pierce.”
Pierce set down his fork and looked around at the family who’d gathered to celebrate his marriage to Mollie. He wondered if it was wrong to continue acting as if nothing was different from any of their marriages or if he should tell them the truth, that this was just a trial run. He decided they needed to learn the truth.
“Mollie and I signed a marriage certificate before leaving for our assignment. Our cover was to make people believe we were a married couple.” His narrowed eyes locked on his brother. “After a while, we acted on our feelings, becoming a true married couple.”
“Oh, God,” Mollie whispered and started to stand. Amanda placed a hand on her arm, encouraging her to stay.
The room fell silent as each person absorbed what Pierce had said. Jamie sipped at his coffee, Will and Dodge picked at their dessert, Niall and Drew waited, figuring there was more to come. Connor let a half-smile cross his face and shook his head.
The women watched Mollie, knowing how hard it was to come into the MacLaren family under the best circumstances and empathizing with the young woman. Each of them had crossed through their own personal fire with the MacLarens they’d married. No one at the table could to point fingers at anyone else. They were, after all, only human.
“You’re confident the license you have is legal?” Drew asked, the attorney in him taking over.
“According to Noah, yes, it is. He filed it with the court in Fire Mountain.”
“And you’ve both decided you want to continue with it?” Jamie asked.
Pierce swung his gaze to Mollie. “Yes, that’s what we’ve decided.”
“Well, it seems all worked out fine. The only thing miss
ing is a true wedding, which the girls and I can arrange. We’ve certainly done it enough times,” Alicia quipped and pushed from the table.
“Um, Aunt Alicia, maybe it would be best to—” Pierce began before a hard look from his aunt stopped him.
“You will have a wedding, with a preacher, Pierce MacLaren. And it will be soon. I suggest you prepare yourself for it.”
******
Pierce and Mollie sat on their bed, conflicted as to the turn of events at supper. Mollie understood why Pierce felt the need to share the truth with his family, he wasn’t the type to keep secrets. Now that everyone knew how the marriage had come about, and Alicia had made no apologies for insisting on a wedding, they had to make a decision. Somehow, walking out on a marriage based on a piece of paper seemed easier than walking out on one performed by a preacher, in front of God, and, well, everyone.
“What are we going to do?” Mollie asked and fell back onto the mattress, crossing an arm over her eyes.
“Don’t see that we have much choice.” Pierce fell back to join her.
“Marriage in front of a preacher is a little more permanent than the paper we signed for Noah, don’t you think?” She lifted her arm off her eyes and turned her gaze to Pierce.
“Oh yeah, big difference.”
Each lay there a while longer before she sprang from the bed and walked to the wardrobe where she’d stowed her luggage. Mollie pulled out one of her satchels and threw it on a chair, then opened the dresser and started to gather her clothes.
“What the hell are you doing?” Pierce sat up, watching her cram her things into the bag.
“Packing.”
“I see that. Why?”
Wilder Than the Rest: MacLarens of Fire Mountain Page 21
