Moonglow, Texas

by Mary McBride

  “What, sweetheart?”

  “I wish we could stay here forever. Right here. Just like this.”

  Her words trailed off in a muted ah as his hand moved from the slope of her breast, over the dip of her navel, down, threading the maze of cotton skirt and silk panties until he reached the slick, hot essence of her. The secret place where he could stay, where he wished he could lose himself forever. Right here. Just like this.

  “I wish,” she said, “I wish I could seal the door and the windows to keep us in and everybody else out. To keep the whole world out.”

  “You and me, welded in an Airstream,” he murmured, his mouth following the track his hand had blazed along her flesh.

  “Two sardines in our own comfy tin.” She sighed. “Wouldn’t it be nice, Dan? Wouldn’t it?”

  “Nice.” He knew from sweet practice just where, just when, just how to use his tongue to send a deep shudder through her.

  “Oh, that’s nice. Oh, how I wish…”

  “Molly,” he whispered, “Shut up, darlin’.”

  Later, she lay beside him, catching her breath, still wishing aloud, this time that tonight would never have to end.

  Dan was at a loss for a proper response, one that wouldn’t sadden her. In his experience, everything ended. Nights. Days. Loves. Lives.

  He tucked her head into his shoulder and kissed the top of her hair. “We’ll have plenty of nights,” he told her, hoping it didn’t sound dismissive.

  Molly was quiet then for a long while. Dan thought she’d fallen asleep until she whispered softly, “You make me feel so safe, Dan. I love you. Do you know that?”

  Ah, God. He didn’t answer. Instead he let his breathing deepen, feigning sleep.

  I love you, too, Molly. I wish you were as safe as you feel.

  Over the next few weeks, Molly came close to getting her wish of being hermetically sealed inside the Airstream with Dan and long, luxurious nights of making love that left them both bleary-eyed the following mornings. It was a little like a honeymoon, she thought.

  Well, not exactly. Sweet, solicitous and sexy as he was, Dan never used the word love except in the context of making love. Molly told herself it wasn’t because he didn’t love her, but rather because his shattered confidence had made him reluctant to make any kind of emotional commitment to anyone else.

  She’d never considered herself a particularly patient person—patient people didn’t climb the ladder of academia as quickly as she had—but in this case she was willing to wait for Dan as long as it took for him to mend.

  In the meantime, there was the sheer bliss of being with him. Not all of their time was spent in the trailer. They tackled the house with the help of all the do-it-yourself books and magazines they could find in the library. They finished putting up the wallpaper that Buddy Jr. had started in the bedroom.

  “That’s not half bad, Molly,” Dan gloated the evening they finished as he stood in the doorway, sipping a beer while admiring the walls. “If things go south at the Marshals Service, hell, I can just be a paper hanger. What do you think? I could put an ad in the paper. ‘Have paper. Will hang.’”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, laughing. “That’s how Hitler got started, you know.”

  “I’m not quite that crazed or ambitious. A little piece of Texas would be plenty of real estate for me. Maybe right here in Moonglow.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears or the way her heart had leapt at the very notion of his settling down. Here! “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “Maybe.” He took another swig from the bottle, then leaned a shoulder against the door frame, cocked one leg and grinned. “Maybe I am. I could retire. Hell, I’m not married to the Marshals Service. It’s just a job.”

  But it wasn’t just a job to him and Molly damn well knew it. He was talking about quitting more than merely a job. What he meant was giving up completely, never trying again, refusing to ride the horse that had thrown him. No way was she going to encourage him to do that. As a matter of fact, she was going to do everything in her power to discourage him.

  He shifted off the door frame and ambled into the room, still grinning and surveying the wallpaper with obvious pride. “What do you say, Molly? You and me.” His green eyes twinkled. “Wallpapers R Us. You Rang, We’ll Hang.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense, Dan,” she said irritably.

  “Okay.” He laughed. “How about Dan, Dan, the Wallpaper Man? Does that do anything for you?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Okay. Well, how about—”

  “Stop it,” she shrieked. “Just stop it.”

  He lowered the beer bottle, looking sincerely surprised, and more than a little defensive. “What’s wrong with that? I thought you’d be happy. Isn’t that what you wished for? You and me. Here. Trapped in my trailer.”

  “No, Dan, it isn’t. I never said anything about being trapped.”

  “Okay. Sorry.” His hand went to cover his heart and the palm trees above it. “Bad choice of words. I should have said living happily ever after in my trailer, just the two of us, away from the big bad world and everyone in it. That’s what you wished for.”

  “Well, maybe I did say that, but it was during the throes of passion. Jeez.” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t be held responsible for what I say then.”

  “No,” he said firmly. “It was not during the throes of passion. I remember. All we were doing was kissing.”

  “That’s right.” Molly crossed her arms. “I rest my case.”

  “What do you mean, you rest your case?”

  “I mean, you’re the greatest kisser north of the Rio Grande, right? The minute your lips touch mine, my brain turns to tapioca.” She tried to make her voice light and carefree when she shrugged and added, “I probably say a lot of things I don’t really mean. Most of it. All of it. It’s just bull, Dan. Blather. Babbling. Background music. Sort of my own sound track for sex.”

  “Jeez, Molly.” He set the beer bottle on the dresser, then ripped his fingers through his hair. “What is this? What are you trying to say? I thought you…” His voice faltered. He just stood there, blinking, looking gut-punched.

  It was all Molly could do to make herself stand still when every ounce of her being ached to put her arms around him, to tell him she loved him more than life itself, to tell him she’d not only be happy to spend the rest of her life with him in his dented Airstream, but she’d be equally happy in a cardboard box if Dan were in it, too.

  But he had to get back on that horse!

  “I can’t believe you took all those things seriously,” she said, trying to look shocked, perhaps even a bit disappointed. “For heaven’s sake, Dan, you’ve had enough experience to know that people get carried away in the heat of the moment. Some more than others, I guess. I probably start babbling poetry and making wishes instead of sighing and moaning. I don’t know.”

  “So this has just been about sex, then? You and me?” he asked.

  There was a hard edge to his tone and a flare of anger in his eyes. Good, Molly thought. That was what she’d wanted to provoke.

  “Well, not all about sex,” she said. “Nothing’s ever all about anything. But in our case I’d say it’s probably, oh, ninety-five percent.” She grinned, praying her lips wouldn’t twitch. “We’re great in bed together, Dan. You can’t deny that.”

  “No, I don’t deny that.”

  He was staring at the floor, so Molly couldn’t see his eyes as he spoke. Even so, she could detect an odd shift in his posture. His habitually relaxed frame now seemed tense, hot-wired. It felt like an eternity before he finally looked up with a wariness in his eyes that Molly had never seen before.

  And it very nearly broke her heart when he put on a cold, calculated killer grin and held out his hand to her and said, “Come on, Mol. Forget the wallpaper. Hell. Let’s go out to the trailer and do what we do best. We don’t have all that many nights left, you know.”

  After that night and
Molly’s revelation, for the next few days Dan got back in the habit of wearing his shades. He was afraid, no matter how good an actor he was, his eyes might betray him.

  Sex? He took it up a level, from Molly’s ninety-five percent to a hot ninety-nine point nine. He turned all the warmth he felt into fire. And just once, to keep his own heart from shattering, while they made love, he taunted her.

  “Sing for me, Molly,” he rasped at her ear while he moved inside her, while he brought her higher and higher. “Get your sound track going, baby. Sing me a love song. Tell me you love me.”

  “No. Please, Dan.”

  “Go on. Sing it. Say it.”

  “I don’t…”

  “Say it, Molly. Now.”

  “I love you.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I love you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  He made her cry. Because he couldn’t.

  For all she tried to concentrate on the student essay on the screen, Molly couldn’t get the sound of Dan’s curse out of her head. Violent. Vicious. The sound of a cobra hissing just before it bit.

  And as much as it hurt her, she didn’t blame him. How could she? She’d driven him to it. She’d been a grand success. Sweet Dan, Dan, the Wallpaper Man, had disappeared. In his place was a hard case, Deputy Marshal Dan Shackelford. She knew he was ready to go back to work, not from anything he’d said, but from the slant of his mouth, the set of his jaw, a certain distance in him even when he was close.

  She hadn’t lost him, she kept telling herself. She’d saved him.

  “Molly?” Dan’s voice sounded from the door behind her and her heart kicked an extra beat.

  “Yes?” She tried to sound neutral, neither happy nor sad.

  She didn’t hear him approach, but suddenly she could feel the warmth emanating from his solid body. Just as she began to turn toward him, his hands clamped each arm of her chair and he swiveled her around to face him. His expression was so serious, so intense, it almost frightened her.

  “Dan? What…?”

  “Don’t say anything, all right? Just listen. I was way out of line last night. I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.”

  “Oh, Dan, sweetheart, you don’t—”

  “Just listen.” He gave the chair a little shake. “I care, Molly.” His eyes closed for a second as he drew in a frustrated breath. “No, that’s not right. I love you, dammit.”

  Molly would have laughed if it hadn’t been for the intensity in his eyes and the fierce set of all his features. He loved her!

  He was about to continue when the phone rang. “Don’t move,” he ordered her. “I’ll be right back.”

  Move! She could hardly breathe. Her heart was crowding her lungs out of her chest.

  She just sat there, smiling like an idiot while she listened to the muted conversation taking place in the living room. Finally, when she heard Dan replace the receiver in its cradle and then his returning footsteps, Molly swung her chair around.

  Her heart suddenly shrank a few sizes when she saw his face. All that fire, that fine fury was gone. He looked ten years older. Infinitely sad. Uncertain again.

  “My God! What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “That was Bobby. There’s been a change of venue. Ahmad Sharis’s trial starts tomorrow in Philadelphia. They want you on the witness stand at four o’clock, Ms. Claiborn.”

  Chapter 12

  While Dan spent the next several hours in a series of conference calls between Houston, Philadelphia and Moonglow, Molly showered and attempted to pack a bag for an indefinite stay in the East.

  She reached in the back of her closet for the only suit she’d brought with her from New York. After she’d extracted it from the cleaner’s bag, she stared at the navy gabardine skirt and jacket, hardly recognizing them. Then she took down a shoe box from the top shelf, blew the dust from its top and pulled out the navy pumps she hadn’t worn in over a year, wondering if they’d still fit. It was as if they belonged to someone else. In a way, they did.

  They were Kathryn’s clothes—dark, severe and professional. More than ever before, Molly sensed that her former self had disappeared completely.

  We’ll keep you in WITSEC, naturally, through the trial, but I suspect after that you’ll be able to return to New York and your former employment and everything and everyone else you left behind.

  “Not on your life, Chief Deputy Hayes,” she said out loud as she tossed the shoes into her suitcase. “Kathryn’s dead. Long live Molly.” Then she smiled softly as she added, “Long live Molly with Dan.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Dan was suddenly in the doorway behind her.

  “Nobody. Well, Kathryn actually. But that uptight chick is history once this trial is over.” She grinned.

  “Oh, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “All of her?”

  She pondered that a moment in all seriousness. “Well, I might go back to my natural hair color. I’m not really a blonde, you know.”

  Now Dan grinned. “No kidding, Mol? I never noticed.”

  In the seconds it took for that remark to register, he had crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms. “About last night, Molly,” he whispered. “That’ll never happen again. I swear.”

  “I’ve already forgotten it,” she said, holding him tighter. “Oh, Dan, I—”

  “Shh.” He kissed her to silence her, then said, “We’ve got a lot to talk about, sweetheart, but not now. This trial deal, Molly, for the next couple of days, I need to focus on that. I can’t let anything distract me. Understand?”

  She nodded, silently glorying in his determination. He wasn’t only back in the saddle, he was galloping. Yee-ha!

  “Finish packing,” he said, loosening his embrace. “I’ve got to get a couple things from the trailer, and then we’ll hit the road.”

  He started for the door, then turned back, his gaze moving slowly around the bedroom. “Nice wallpaper,” he said with a little chuckle before he disappeared down the hall.

  Dan tossed his garment bag on top of Molly’s suitcase, then slammed the trunk. He dragged his sunglasses down his nose and took a last, long look at the house. It looked sorrier than it had when he’d arrived to repair it. Now, not only was the paint peeling, but most of the guttering was gone. Hell. When they got back to Moonglow, he’d—

  He shook his head, obliterating thoughts of the future, making himself concentrate on the here and now, doing his damnedest to ignore the cold sweat that kept creeping up on him, the doubts that kept piercing his gut like ground glass.

  Molly was already in the car. He slid into the driver’s seat, wrenched the key in the ignition, backed down the drive, then hit the gas and laid a good ten feet of rubber on Second Street, for old time’s sake, for luck.

  “We’re outta here,” he said.

  They reached Bobby’s ranch on the outskirts of Houston a little after four. The plan was to spend the night there, then catch the 6:00 a.m. flight for Philadelphia. That would give them just a few hours at the hotel before getting Molly to the courthouse.

  “You’re early,” Bobby said by way of greeting, descending the front steps. “How many speed limits did you blow away, amigo?”

  “A few.” Dan popped the trunk lid, climbed out and retrieved their bags while Bobby and Molly chatted.

  Despite the “happy host” exterior, Dan could sense the tension in his old friend. He’d known Bobby too many years not to read that something was wrong. In his current frame of mind, the only thing Dan could figure was that Bobby was going to pull him off the assignment. Somebody else would be escorting their witness to Philadelphia tomorrow. Like hell.

  He was ready to tell Bobby just that when he pulled him aside after they walked into the house.

  “Got a little bad news, I’m afraid, compadre.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Dan asked through clenched teeth. “What’s that?”

  Bobby leaned a little closer, lowered his voice. “Eileen’s put you two in separate rooms. I didn’t tel
l her.” He shrugged almost sheepishly. “Well, you know. Sorry about that.”

  Dan let out his breath. His face was so tense his lips could only twitch. “S’okay, boss. It’s going to be a pretty short night, anyway, what with that six o’clock flight. What do we need? About forty minutes to get from here to the airport?”

  “I’d make it an hour, just to be on the safe side.”

  “Right.”

  As Dan started to move away, Bobby snagged his elbow. Now what? Dan thought.

  “You can just kind of tiptoe across the hall, you know, Danny. Later on. Hell, what Eileen doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

  Dan eased into a full-fledged grin. “Thanks, boss. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

  It was still dark the next morning and there was just a hint of autumn in the air as Molly stood in the driveway with the hostess she’d hardly had time to speak with. As soon as they’d arrived yesterday, Bobby had spirited her into a downstairs office and put her on the phone with the U.S. Attorney in Philadelphia, who proceeded to spend two hours going over her testimony.

  “Thank you so much, Eileen,” Molly said. “You shouldn’t have gotten up so early, though. Why don’t you go back to bed? I’m sure Dan will be out in just a minute.”

  The woman gave her such a weird look in response that Molly wondered if she’d inadvertently said something wrong.

  “I’ll just wait till Dan comes out,” she said again, gesturing toward the front porch where Bobby was deep in conversation with another deputy.

  Eileen kept giving her that weird look, only now it was accompanied by a smile. “How much sleep did you get last night, Molly?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Five, maybe six hours. Enough. Why?”

  The woman’s smile widened. She tipped her head toward the porch. “That’s Dan.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said that’s Dan on the porch with Bobby.”

  Molly looked again. My God, it was. It took her a minute, maybe more, to absorb the serious gray suit, the crisp white shirt, the Repp tie, the tasseled loafers giving off a soft shine in the porch light. And by the time she’d fully absorbed it, he was loping down the porch steps toward her.