He didn't answer, and she stole a glance beside her. He stared straight ahead, his expression inscrutable.
When they rounded the bend and the schoolhouse came into view, then the cabin, she half expected him to turn back. But he didn't.
When they reached the lake, he gestured. "Mind if we stop here for a few minutes?"
Wanting to say yes, that she did mind, that she was sorry but she had work to do-she shook her head. "No, I don't mind."
Already, the sun had dipped low behind the highest peaks, on its way to making another age-old journey. Shadows spilled down from the mountains like a vapor and hovered in an ebon hue across the lake. Back home in Georgia, they would have called this a night for haunting. When spirits grew restless and roamed the earth, seeking to arrest their loneliness. Of course, she didn't believe in such foolish-
"Dr. Whit-"
She jumped.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you:"
"You didn't;' she lied, her heart racing.
He turned to face her. "I owe you an apology, ma'am. You're right. I stepped in where I shouldn't have-that day with Mayor Davenport. My intentions were honorable, I assure you. But intentions, however innocent or well meant, don't change the outcome of one's actions. My actions were wrong, and I apologize:'
Molly could only stare. Who is this man? Not only was he not easily offended, but he admitted when he was wrong?
"And for the record ..." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, and she was certain her jaw would've landed on her chest if she'd let it. "What exactly does ... myriad mean? That's a new one for me, ma'am"
She laughed. She couldn't help herself. "You mean ... you're not angry with me?"
"No, ma'am. I appreciate your honesty. I just wish you would've come to me right after. Then there wouldn't have been the strife between us." He gathered the horse's reins. "Best get you on inside. It's getting cool:"
Molly hadn't noticed before, but she was chilly. James walked her the rest of the way to the cabin, stopping short of seeing her to the door. He handed her the bag of items she'd purchased from the store.
"Can we continue this talk tomorrow, ma'am? After church? Rachel's asked me to invite you for Sunday dinner." He held up a hand. `And before I forget, there's a town council meeting on Thursday night, six oclock. You'll need to be there. We meet at the church building:'
Molly held back from answering. Seeing Rachel and the boys again would be nice. And the prospect of having crackers and coffee for Sunday dinner was none too appealing. But neither was opening up the possibility of starting a tradition of going to the sheriff's house each Sunday for dinner following church.
"Ma'am?"
She looked back at him.
"I'm wagering it's the part about Sunday dinner that's giving you pause, and not the meeting:" He searched her eyes. "Am I right?"
She gave a slight nod. "It's not that I don't appreciate what you've done for me. I do." She lifted a brow. "I wouldn't be standing here right now if you hadn't come upon that stagecoach when you did." How much to reveal to him was an issue, and she treaded carefully. "You were right the other day when you guessed that part of my coming to Timber Ridge was to start over. And part of that new beginning is making a life for myself here:' Alone, she almost added, then heard the silence do it for her.
She tried to guess his thoughts, but the steadiness of his gaze skewed her judgment.
"If it makes your decision any easier, Dr. Whitcomb, I promise not to act as your protector. I won't speak on your behalf. IT let you fight all your own battles." He laughed softly. "I won't even make you eat your vegetables if you don't want to:'
She made a halfhearted attempt to hide her smile. "So you'll put aside that badge of yours for the entire afternoon. Is that what you're saying?"
Nudging a rock with the tip of his boot, he sighed. "I could lay aside this badge about as easily as you could forget how to speak all those languages you know." He took a step closer. "What I'm trying to say-and am not doing a very good job of it-is that I'd like for us to be friends, Molly. We're going to be working together in getting the school started, and we'll see each other in town from time to time. It'd be easier, and far more pleasant, if we were on sure footing with each other. I'm willing to relearn some things if I need to, in order for that to happen:"
His honesty left her near speechless. As did her desire that she'd made a different choice with Jeremy Fowler. "Then ... yes, I-" Her voice caught. "I would enjoy having lunch with you and Rachel and the boys. As for the meeting, I'll be there. And as for being friends, I look forward to that:'
"Me too, ma'am" He tipped his hat and turned.
She was inside and had almost closed the door when she remembered. She stepped back onto the porch. "A multitude or very large number," she called.
Not far down the path, James turned back. His head angled to one side.
"That's what myriad means! And I'll expect you to be able to use it in a sentence by tomorrow."
Smiling, she dashed back inside and closed the door before he could respond. And that feeling was still with her when she crawled into bed a while later. The windows were closed, but she could hear the faint trickle of the stream behind the cabin and the wind sweeping down from the mountains.
Her first night in her new home ...
Reviewing the events of the day, she realized that James had never answered her question about the proposal the town doctor had made on behalf of the schoolchildren. She plumped her pillow and snuggled beneath the covers that smelled faintly of lilac and sunshine. Whatever the proposal was, she would be fine with it, she felt certain. As long as it didn't require her spending time with the town doctor.
She would need his services eventually, but that was one acquaintance she intended to put off forming for as long as possible.
James saw her when she walked into the church building. All heads turned as Molly took a seat near the back, only a minute or so before services started. Had she awakened late? Or had she purposefully timed her arrival to avoid being inundated with greetings on her first Sunday?
"Uncle James;' Kurt said in a loud whisper. "Can I sit by you?"
"'Course you can, buddy. I was saving this spot for you." James lifted the boy over Rachel and Mitch, who sat beside him on the pew.
"Can I hold your Bible too?"
Giving Kurt's head a rub, James placed the black leather-bound Bible in his lap and gave his younger nephew a sideways hug. His heart tugged tight when the boy sidled up closer. It was hard to imagine loving a child more than he loved his nephews.
"Let's all rise;" the circuit preacher said from the front. `And turn in your hymnals to page twelve. .. A Mighty Fortress Is Our God' And let's sing it like we believe it:'
James smiled at that last part. Pastor Carlson had been visiting them twice a month now since the snows melted in late May, and James liked the way the man led the singing and delivered a sermon. He didn't preach with a lot of hoopla or ranting and raving. It felt more like you were sitting across the dinner table from him having a real good discussion. And he quoted Scripture with an ease and confidence he admired.
James could still picture his brother-in-law standing up there, leading singing. Sunday mornings always pulled memories of Thomas extra close. Thomas's clarion tenor used to rise over the swell of this chorus of voices in such a way that James had often sat out a verse just to appreciate the gift God had given the man.
How he wished Thomas were still here to watch his sons grow up, to love Rachel as she needed to be loved and cared for, and to continue building the ranch he'd dreamed of owning for so many years. James chanced a look at Rachel beside him. No one could tell from looking at her now-singing, voice and face lifted to God-that she was bonetired, and worried.
The ranch was barely bringing in enough money to cover the mortgage, and little was left to cover day-to-day expenses. He was doing as much as he could to help out with chores but didn't have more time to spare. He had a little mo
ney tucked aside and helped here and there when he could, unbeknownst to Rachel, who would've refused.
He'd paid down the bill at the general store some, and planned on buying both boys a new pair of boots before school started. But his pockets only went so deep. Being sheriff didn't exactly command a highpaying salary.
The song ended, and Pastor Carlson invited the congregation to sit down, then announced the next song.
Paging through his hymnal, James spotted movement from the corner of his eye. He turned. Brandon Tolliver loitered by the back door. What on earth was Tolliver doing in church? Not that the man wasn't welcome. He was. James had invited him more than once. He'd just never shown up before.
Tolliver's gaze connected with his, held only a second, and then moved back over the crowd. After a minute, Tolliver headed toward a pew on the right and took a seat-right beside Molly.
James sat a little straighter in the pew. So much for questioning Brandon Tolliver's motivation.
"She's pretty, ain't she?" Kurt whispered, a mite too loudly.
Realizing his nephew had caught him staring, James nodded once and held a finger to his lips.
A second later, as the voices swelled in song again, Kurt tugged his sleeve. "She smells good too, Uncle James:"
James had to smile. Rachel would've corrected the boy for saying such a thing, but he couldn't bring himself to. Not when it was God's honest truth.
Through the singing and on through the sermon, James managed to sneak occasional glances behind him. Each time, Tolliver was looking his way. Molly only looked his way once, but her smile was instant and full and had a lasting quality about it. Something a man could take with him, like a picture stuck in his vest pocket for safekeeping.
He tried to view her through the eyes of a member of the community, a parent whose child she would be teaching. Molly hadn't cracked open a hymnal this morning, yet she'd known the words to every song. She'd brought her Bible with her too, and flipped the pages whenever the preacher referenced a verse.
He was glad they'd gotten things settled between them last night, at least on a personal note. He still needed to address the subject of Elijah Birch and other school-related issues, but he was saving that for either before or after the town council meeting. As much as possible, he planned on keeping business issues separate from personal with Molly Whitcomb.
Especially since Mayor Davenport had assigned him as her official go-between to the town council-something else he needed to address with her. After their discussion last night-even with how things had turned out-he had a sense she wouldn't react favorably to that news.
After the final amen was said, members of the congregation flooded Molly with greetings. A sense of satisfaction came over James as he watched. One thing he could count on was these fine folks making her feel welcome. He kept an eye on her as he visited. Courteous and pleasant, she handled herself with perfect aplomb, and he was assured, yet again, that the town council had made the right choice.
Hiring Molly represented more than just hiring a schoolteacher, as Mayor Davenport had rightly pointed out. It was a significant step in a long succession of hard-won strides that would move Timber Ridge from being a rough mountain town to being a thriving community. A community that could stake a firm claim to the future and that would be around for Mitch's and Kurt's children. And their children's children.
As his grandfather had always said, "Dream big, laddie. The Maker of heaven and earth is right beside you, so go ahead and take a leap or two. You might fall, get a little bruised. But if you end up flyin'... Ah ... think of the thrill that would be! For both you and our Maker." Ian McGuiggan always threw in a wink for good measure.
"Sheriff McPherson."
James turned at hearing his name. "Tolliver .. " Maybe it was his imagination, but the man's smile seemed more smug than usual. "Surprising to see you here this morning."
Tolliver smoothed a hand over his pressed suit jacket. "I've been meaning to visit for a while now." He turned a bold glance in Molly's direction. "And today seemed like the perfect opportunity."
James found himself imagining how good it would feel to deck Tolliver. Not too hard, just enough to knock that boulder-sized chip off his shoulder. He managed a smile. "At least we know your motives are pure, don't we?"
Tolliver's smile only deepened. "You know me, Sheriff. I'm not the type of man who allows purity of motive to encumber him. When I want something, I go after it. I've never been one to mask my intentions:" He raised a brow. "As some do:'
James felt the insinuation. So Tolliver had caught him staring at Molly during church. More than once. He had no secret intentions when it came to her. On the contrary, he'd been open about his desire for her friendship in his conversation with her last night. So why did Tolliver's insinuation sting? "You're right, Tolliver. I do know you. Better than you think. And what I'm thinking is that you-"
"Gentlemen.. "
James turned at the sound of Molly's voice.
She came alongside them, her expression attentive, and not a little curious. "How are you this morning, Sheriff?"
"I'm fine, ma'am;' James answered first, still itching for that solid right hook to Tolliver's jaw. "I hope your first night in the cabin was a good one. And that you had a myriad of pleasant dreams."
Her laughter was musical, and well worth the earning. "Well done, Sheriff. I'm impressed:"
It was juvenile, he knew, but James enjoyed excluding Brandon Tolliver from the private joke.
"And my first night in the cabin was wonderful. I awakened to a herd of elk grazing right outside my bedroom window." She beamed. "They were magnificent!"
Tolliver stepped up. "If you think a herd of elk is magnificent, Dr. Whitcomb, just wait until you see my resort. I'd be honored to give you a private tour, and arrange for dinner to be served, of course:'
James laughed. "Dinner? The hotel isn't even built yet:"
Tolliver shook his head. "Have you never heard of catering a meal in, McPherson? I can't exactly take a woman like Dr. Whitcomb to an establishment like Clara's Cafe, now, can I?"
James snuck a look at Molly, whose expression was guarded.
"Now, Dr. Whitcomb:" Tolliver's tone was gratingly cordial. "Shall we say ... six o'clock Tuesday evening? I'll call on you at your cabin:"
"Your offer is generous, Mr. Tolliver. But I must decline. As I told you a moment ago"-she tossed the man a look similar to one she might give an unruly student-"I have too much to do before school begins. Just ask the sheriff here. He'll vouch for that. The town council gave me a list of tasks a mile long:"
"She's right, Tolliver. I gave her the list myself." James smiled in Tolliver's direction, enjoying seeing him put in his place. "She's got her work cut out for her:"
"I'm sorry to hear that, Dr. Whitcomb:" Tolliver's attention flashed briefly to James. `And speaking of work, I wish now that I'd pursued a chair on the town council. Perhaps then I could have thrown my hat into the ring to be your new boss, ma'am. Like the good sheriff here did. I would've enjoyed that distinction:'
James felt his face heat, while Molly's expression clouded.
She frowned. "I ... don't understand:'
Tolliver's smugness deepened. "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am, if I've spoken out of turn. Mayor Davenport informed me that he'd assigned the sheriff to act as your ... supervisor, of sorts. You'll be reporting to him in regard to your duties as the schoolteacher of Timber Ridge:"
Confusion and-if James wasn't mistaken-suspicion, shadowed her eyes.
"Mrs. Whitcomb-" James turned to her. "Mr. Tolliver is making this out to be more than it is. I'm not your new boss or your supervisor, ma'am. Far from it. Mayor Davenport merely suggested that you and I work together to make sure the opening of the new school runs smoothly, and that the lines of communication stay open between you and the town council. That's all:"
Molly clutched her Bible closer to her chest. "And just when, Sheriff McPherson"-her voice was soft; her eyes were not-"did he assign yo
u this task?"
This woman was about as trusting as a wounded field mouse in a cage of buzzards. And James wondered, not for the first time, what kind of man her husband had been.
15
n the day Mayor Davenport came to the cabin, he requested that I be your go-between for the town council," James said quietly, watching suspicion deepen in her eyes.
Molly nodded, obvious conclusions forming. "The day you asked me to wait inside:"
"Dr. Whitcomb ..." Tolliver bowed at the waist, his grin declaring victory. "I'll take my leave of you, madam. For now. But rest assured I'll issue a future invitation at, what I trust will be, a more opportune time. And I'll take pleasure in showing you the newest and most modern resort in the West:"
"Thank you, Mr. Tolliver. I look forward to seeing your hotel:" Molly gave him a gracious-if not tolerant-smile.
Tolliver. James watched the man leave, noticing he didn't bother to speak to anyone on his way out. Not that most of these people were overly fond of the resort owner. Tolliver had arrived last fall promising to create jobs with the construction of his resort. But the hopes he'd raised among townsfolk were soon dashed when he offered lower-than-expected wages and hired immigrants to do the work instead.
As if having waited for Tolliver to leave, Rachel walked up behind Molly and gave her shoulders a squeeze. "I hope you're ready for some roasted chicken and potatoes, green beans with fatback, and apple crumb cake with fresh cream:'
Molly was slow to answer. "Actually, Rachel, I'm ... not feeling too well this morning. Perhaps I should stay closer to home today."
Beyond This Moment Page 13
