by Renee Ryan
CJ thought back over the past six months. He’d given his brother too much time to recover from Penelope’s loss. He’d made too many excuses for Ned’s drinking, hoping the experience of their father’s abuse was enough to keep him from traveling down the same path.
Edmund handed back the piece of paper. “You got a plan if your brother doesn’t return?”
“Not yet.” CJ’s gaze went to Molly again. He watched as she walked away from her friend and approached the twins. She sat between the girls and, as natural as breathing, the two scooted in close to lean against her. “I have temporary help, but I need to start thinking about a more permanent solution.”
“You mean...marriage?”
It was certainly an option and made the most sense, especially when he considered the girls. They deserved a kind, loving woman to mother them.
But who would take a chance on marrying him?
He was a Thorn, which was bad enough. Now, Ned’s recent behavior added another black mark against the already tarnished family name.
“If marriage is really what you’re thinking,” Edmund said, “you’ll want to act quickly. That temporary solution you mentioned won’t stay unattached for long.”
From his friend’s perspective, the idea of CJ making Molly his wife probably seemed the perfect solution. Except for one small, insurmountable problem. “She deserves a good man.”
“You are a good man.” The vehemence in Edmund’s voice had CJ flinching. “Don’t let what happened with Lillian make you think otherwise.”
“She vowed no decent woman would marry a Thorn.”
Edmund brushed this aside with a hard flick of his wrist. “If that’s what she said, you’re better off without her.”
Was he?
CJ thought about Lillian, now married to a banker and living in Waco. He waited for the familiar sense of humiliation and loss to hit him. When neither came, he cocked his head and looked back over at Molly with the twins.
“I’m telling you, CJ, Mrs. Langley is your answer. The twins adore her. You seem to like her well enough and she’s already a part of your lives. Might as well make it official.”
Make it official? Something about Edmund’s choice of words didn’t sit well. Molly wasn’t a mere convenience. She was special. Good, decent, loving. She deserved the very best in life, which wasn’t marriage to a Thorn.
But now that Edmund had put the idea in his mind, CJ couldn’t dislodge the hope it sparked deep in his chest. Did he dare consider asking Molly to marry him?
He certainly liked her.
She seemed to like him.
Many marriages were built on less.
Maybe, as Edmund suggested, the solution to CJ’s dilemma was right in front of him. Maybe, just maybe, she was already in his life.
Chapter Six
In the days following the ice-cream social, Molly’s life fell into a new, if somewhat unsettling, rhythm. Every morning, just before dawn, she would arrive at the Triple-T atop Sadie’s back, loop the horse’s reins over a low tree branch and pray that Ned had returned to his family a changed man.
Heart racing, mind reeling, hope building, she would climb the steps leading onto the porch. But instead of discovering a contrite Ned inside the house, Molly was greeted by a harried CJ and two little girls tremendously happy to see her.
This morning, the fourth since the ice-cream social, Molly climbed off Sadie’s back as usual. She looped the horse’s reins over the branch and lifted up a silent prayer for Ned’s return.
She’d barely commandeered the porch steps when the front door swung open and out stepped CJ, head bent. He pulled the door shut behind him, rearranged his stance and hit Molly with the full force of his intense gaze.
She reared back in surprise.
“Oh. CJ. I didn’t. Expect. That is, I...” Her words trailed off as she studied the lines of exhaustion around his eyes and mouth, etched deeper than ever before. “Another rough night?”
For several heartbeats he simply stared at her. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with defeat. “The roughest yet.”
There was no need for him to say more. Discomfort and frustration all but vibrated in the air between them. Releasing a silent groan, he broke eye contact and looked over her head, his gaze unreadable.
Molly waited patiently for whatever he had to say.
Lips pressed in a flat line, he continued staring off into the distance. He reached up a hand, gripped the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders as if shrugging off something uncomfortable.
Molly desperately wanted to make this easier for him. But without more information, she didn’t know how.
“I’m not going to mess this up,” he blurted out.
“No, you’re not.”
Her unbridled confidence seemed to surprise him. He turned to face her directly once again. Their gazes locked and held, blue against brown, and, slowly, CJ shook his head in wonderment. “You’re that sure of my abilities?”
“I am.”
His gaze darted to the closed door behind her. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I did last night.”
Her heart fluttered at the sound of frustration in his voice. What could he have possibly done? Surely, nothing too terrible. This was CJ, after all, a man of solid, impeccable character. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
He nodded, studied the door once again, then grimaced as if he could see right through the thick wood. “After you left, both girls got out of bed. They wanted me to tell them another bedtime story. I agreed, and once I got them settled back in their beds, I made up another tale. But that wasn’t enough. Oh no. So I made up another one and another, and another. This went on for a full hour.”
The poor man seemed to be beside himself. Molly rushed to assure him. “That doesn’t sound so terrible.”
“There’s more.”
She waited for the rest, breathing in the familiar scents of the ranch, grass, horse and hay. “Go on, I’m listening,” she said, when he remained silent. “What happened next?”
“Finally, after at least a dozen stories...”
“A dozen?”
“Maybe only five or six, I lost count. Anyway, the girls finally drifted off to sleep. I attempted to leave the room, but Anna woke up and begged me not to go.” A corner of his mouth turned down. “I told her I’d be in the next room. At that, she started crying. And I don’t mean little delicate whimpers. I’m talking about big, giant, gulping sobs. Once I had her calmed down, I headed for the door again. Then Sarah started in, wailing even louder than her sister.”
Oh, boy, he really had endured a difficult night.
“The point is,” he continued, rubbing a hand over his face, “I ended up sleeping in the rocking chair I’d positioned between their beds. It was the only way I could keep them calm enough to sleep.”
What a good, kind, decent man. But my, he must have knots upon knots in his back and neck. “That was really sweet of you.”
“Sweet? No, Molly, it was cowardly. I can’t stand watching them cry like that. Their tears always slay me. I just wanted them to go to sleep.” The desolation was there in his eyes, lurking behind the exhaustion. “I took the easy way out.”
“Oh, CJ, I would have done the same thing.” She put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
He gave her a tortured smile.
“It’s only been a week since their father abandoned them.” Molly refused to call Ned’s behavior anything but what it was. “The twins are rightfully frightened. I’m sure it gets worse at night. By staying in their room, you made them feel safe.”
“Did I? Or did I teach them that all they have to do is cry loud enough and long enough to get whatever they want?”
“It was one night.”
He swiped a h
and across his mouth. “I want to get this right, but I don’t know what I’m doing.” He growled the words through clenched teeth. “I seem to be making mistakes at every turn.”
Molly forced a smile to hide the ache in her throat. He was trying so hard to be a good parent. How could she not admire that? How could she not admire him?
“Sarah and Anna have suffered a terrible trauma. Right now, what they need most is to feel secure, which is exactly what you did by staying in their room last night. Give it time. Things will get better once they’re sure of you and realize you won’t abandon them.”
He didn’t look convinced, but gave a single, brief nod as if to acknowledge her words. “I’ll be riding the fence line along the southern border of my property today.”
Molly made a little sound of frustration at the sudden change of topic. At least CJ had opened up to her a bit and had admitted—out loud—that he was struggling. She would consider that progress.
Watching him head down the porch steps, she felt a renewed sense of purpose on his behalf. CJ needed her, if for no other reason than to support and guide him through these first few weeks as a new parent. She waited as he took Sadie’s reins and led the horse to the barn for her morning rubdown. Only once he was out of sight did she enter the house.
The girls greeted her with smiles and shrieks of pleasure. And so began another day as their substitute mother.
Later that afternoon, while Molly stirred the bean-and-bacon soup she’d prepared for supper, her mind tracked back to the days before Penelope died. Molly had started coming on a daily basis to help her friend. As an only child, Penelope had been overwhelmed with the task of caring for twins. Her fears had been very similar to the ones CJ had voiced this morning.
Anna trudged into the kitchen and rolled worried eyes to the window that overlooked the backyard. “Will Unca Corny be home soon?”
Molly set down the spoon and faced the little girl. Anna asked the same question every afternoon around this same hour. And like every other time she asked it, her panic was palpable.
Clearly, Anna expected her uncle to abandon her, along with all the other adults in her life. Granted, Penelope hadn’t actually abandoned her daughters. But explaining that to a four-year-old wasn’t exactly easy.
Molly leaned down and placed her hand on Anna’s shoulder. “He’ll be here any minute.”
This sent the little girl rushing to a window on the other side of the house, which overlooked the corral and bunkhouse. “I don’t see him yet.”
“I’ll help you look.” Sarah joined her sister, all but pressing her nose to the glass. “You don’t think he forgot where we live?”
The question drew a shuddering breath from Anna. “I hope not.” She pulled in another breath, then released a high-pitched squeal. “He’s home!”
Molly’s stomach dipped. Anna’s reaction was so enthusiastic Molly wasn’t sure who he was—CJ or... Ned?
Bouncing on her toes, Anna laughed in pure delight. “He’s home! Unca Corny’s home!”
Unexpected relief nearly buckled Molly’s knees. For a split second, she’d thought Ned might have returned. And in that brief moment, Molly had hoped he hadn’t. It was too soon for her time with CJ and the twins to end. She wanted to pretend they were a family just a little while longer.
She’d been thinking only of herself, of what it would mean if Ned actually did come home. Well, this wasn’t about her. Anna and Sarah’s happiness was what mattered most.
They deserved to grow up with a father who loved and adored them. They also deserved a woman who would mother them as if they were her own. A secret, rebellious part of Molly believed she and CJ were doing a fine job parenting the twins. No, their arrangement wasn’t a traditional one. That didn’t mean they couldn’t continue on indefinitely. And...
She was thinking only of herself again.
The door swept open and CJ stepped inside the house. The girls crowded around him, asking him questions and filling him in on their day. With the measured patience that defined the man, he listened, nodded, answered when necessary. In short, he treated the girls as any loving father would.
As uncle interacted with nieces, Molly hovered on the fringes, hoping not to be noticed, and yet yearning desperately to belong.
CJ eventually lifted his head and caught her watching him. His smile came slow and easy. Molly’s heart slammed against her ribs. Cornelius Jackson Thorn was one devastatingly handsome man.
She could hardly catch her breath.
It was more than his good looks that captured her. It was his inner strength, his integrity and kindness, his willingness to do the right thing for two little girls in need of a father.
They need a mother, too.
What would it be like to become a permanent part of this family, to raise the girls as her daughters and to have a man like CJ come home to her every night?
George had been a good husband and a dedicated preacher, but their marriage had been based on friendship and a shared desire to serve others.
People in need were George’s first priority. Molly had respected him for that. Yet there had been too many moments when she’d felt second best. Was it wrong to want to be adored above all others by her husband?
It was a moot point, of course, and completely unfair to George, who’d been good and kind to her.
CJ moved toward her. “Hello, Molly.”
“Hello.”
His smile widened, becoming different, more genuine and nothing like she’d seen from him before. She was stunned by the way such a simple gesture transformed him. His face was immediately lighter, his eyes softer, his frame less tense. And she knew—she knew—the change in him was because of her.
She swallowed back the nerves rising in her throat. “Supper is almost ready.”
He took another step. “Now that’s what I like to hear.”
Molly’s lips lifted at the corners. One thing she’d learned since CJ had begun eating with her and the girls. He loved food.
Well, Molly loved to cook. It did her heart good to have her efforts appreciated by someone with a hearty appetite.
Trying not to sigh, she focused her attention on the children. “Let’s get you washed up and then we’ll eat.”
She reached for their hands, but CJ shook his head at her. “Let me help them.”
And there he went, acting like a father, making Molly’s heart twist. Their early morning conversation came back to her. I want to get this right.
Did he understand he was already getting it right?
She stepped aside and let him take charge of the girls. By the time the four of them sat at the table, Molly’s racing heart had settled.
During supper, CJ amused them by telling about an incident with the cow dogs. Talk then turned to the Founder’s Day celebration.
“We’re going to each bake a pie for the pie-eating contest,” Sarah said, with no small amount of pride.
“No kidding?”
“Miss Molly taught us how to roll out the dough.”
CJ laughed, a sweet, gruff, masculine sound. “That’s really...nice.”
“We’re going to the quilting bee at her mama’s house tomorrow,” Anna informed him.
Swiveling to look at the child, he took the change of subject in stride. “That should be fun.”
“It always is.” Anna nodded vigorously. “Miss Molly helped us make blocks to add to the quilt. Want to see?”
“Definitely.”
The little girl hopped to her feet.
“After we finish our supper.” CJ looked pointedly at her half-eaten soup.
Head down, Anna returned to her seat and gobbled down her food with large, fast bites that rivaled Molly’s brothers at their hungriest. Not to be outdone, Sarah ate just as quickly.
Ove
r their heads, CJ smiled at Molly, humor threaded in his gaze.
Moments later, their bowls empty, the girls led him to the living room, where he proceeded to admire their handiwork. The stitching was a bit crooked, but Molly had been happy to discover that Sarah and Anna had patient natures and enjoyed sewing.
Once they’d pointed out each stitch, CJ went in search of the girls’ corncob dolls and a stuffed toy they’d named, rather on the nose, Furry Bear. The three settled on the couch, the twins on either side of CJ. He launched into an entertaining story that sent the dolls on a grand adventure with the stuffed bear.
Molly listened to the story as she cleared the table and then went to work washing the dishes. CJ was good at weaving a tale. His voice was rich and musical, the deep tenor comforting. No wonder the twins demanded he entertain them with bedtime stories to make them feel safe.
Thinking about the ordeal he’d gone through last night, Molly felt a wave of affection crash over her. With it came regret and a wish for what might have been. Disappointment came alive in her heart. It took every ounce of willpower not to rail at God over her empty womb.
Determined to find joy in her sorrow, Molly concentrated her efforts on cleaning the dishes. She looked out the window, noted how the sun rode dangerously low in the sky, tinting the world with a pink-hued glow. She should be heading home soon.
The thought depressed her.
No. She wouldn’t let despair win. She tapped into a tiny spark of optimism. Her time with the Thorn family was a blessing, something to be cherished.
“...and that’s how Furry Bear ended up with a pink nose.”
The girls giggled.
“You’re silly, Unca Corny.”
He pulled Sarah close and planted a kiss atop her head. “All part of my charm.”
Oh, yes, Molly thought, the man was definitely charming.
Finished with the dishes, she joined the Thorns in the living room. Flanked by the twins, CJ looked relaxed. Even considering the misadventure he’d encountered last night, fatherhood suited him.
Sarah let out a loud, jaw-cracking yawn. Anna followed suit.
