by Leigh Riker
Molly could think of only one reason for the lack of communication.
“I assume your grandmother’s not well.”
“No, she’s not, and that’s the bad news.”
His worried expression made Molly ache for him. “Poor Mrs. Collier.”
“Apparently she was cleaning out her garage, tried to pull a carton from a stack against the wall—and fell, hard.” He flinched as if he could feel the landing. “She shattered her hip. The prognosis is actually pretty good, considering, but after surgery to repair it, she might have suffered a ministroke. My folks probably aren’t coming home anytime soon.”
Molly knew what that meant. Brig had found his parents, but there was still Laila to worry about. “What are you going to do?”
“Leave for Indiana first thing in the morning.”
Molly took a breath before she plunged in and said, “I’d be happy to look after Laila while you’re gone.”
“Well, uh...” He trailed off, obviously unwilling to impose on her.
“Really, it’s no trouble. Even with colic she’s a ‘little darling,’ as you said.”
But Molly wondered if she was losing her mind, tormenting herself all over again by getting close to Laila when she knew the arrangement was only temporary. Yet how could she not offer to help Brig? The last thing he needed now was a baby to consider. A colicky baby who could be demanding.
“During the day I can keep Laila at the center with me or in the nursery with Ann. No charge,” she said with a smile she hoped was encouraging. “When we’re not able to help, Pop is always here.”
“I know, but...”
“He’s not the easiest person, but he does like Laila.”
Brig frowned. “He and I had a nice talk this morning, but to be honest, Molly, I wouldn’t like leaving him with the responsibility. The other night he was watching Laila in the living room, but when I walked in she was all caught up in the covers, her face scrunched into a pillow he’d put on the floor for her. If I hadn’t come in, she could have smothered.”
Molly frowned, too. Had her fears about Pop been right? Was he losing his edge? “I didn’t know that. Sometimes he does get distracted.”
“He’s become addicted to the news on TV.”
So had Brig, but Molly didn’t point that out. Actually, so had she. Brig wasn’t the only one who jumped now whenever the phone rang.
“I’ll make sure Pop isn’t alone with her,” she said.
But still, he didn’t seem to like any of her solutions.
“You told me a flu bug is going around at the center. I’d rather not leave Laila there. She’s so young and underweight, and likely still hasn’t built up many immunities—” He broke off, then tried again. “I was kind of hoping you might come with us instead.”
Molly blinked. “To Indiana?”
“Why not? It isn’t far. A few hours’ drive is all. We could be there and back in one day. I just need to check on my parents, see how Grandma Collier is doing.”
Hours in the car with both Brig and Laila? In such close quarters? After the night in the kitchen with him and then the night alone with the baby, she would be risking too much. Yet he wanted her help. Someone in need was always a lure for Molly. Still, it was also a chance to leave Liberty for a day, to escape her ever-increasing restlessness and the sense that no matter how she loved Little Darlings and Pop and Ann, she had begun to envision something else, something more....
“I suppose I could go with you.”
Brig’s face relaxed. “Thanks, Molly. Can we use your car? I’ll drive, and that way you can deal with Laila whenever necessary. I think she’ll be okay, though. She likes the motion of a car, and it might help her catch up on some sleep. If we’re lucky, she’ll get clock shifted to the right time zone.”
She gave him a weak smile. “If we’re lucky.”
And if she was, Molly added silently, she wouldn’t sink deeper into the abyss of her growing feelings for Brig and Laila.
CHAPTER NINE
MOLLY STEPPED OUT of the car and stretched her cramped legs. The drive from Liberty had taken less time than she’d expected, and Brig had been right. For the most part, Laila had slept soundly in her car seat. Molly, riding in the back with her, felt grateful for the distance from Brig. Conversation wasn’t necessary, and she had asked to stop only once so she could diaper the baby.
“I’m glad my mom finally called,” Brig said as he unstrapped Laila from her seat. Halfway along the interstate, his phone had rung.
His mother had been ecstatic to hear Brig’s voice. “You’re back in the States? At our house?” He quickly disabused her of that notion, filling Bess in on his search for them and about the missing door key. “I’m so sorry we didn’t leave a note,” she’d said. “But your father wanted to get going fast, and we had no idea you were on your way home.”
That didn’t matter now. Brig had assured her that he was already near his grandmother’s hometown outside of Indianapolis. Molly noticed he hadn’t mentioned either her or the baby.
“Can you believe the communications gap in all this?” Brig led the way now across the parking lot to the hospital entrance. “It took the police calling all the hospitals to find them.”
“At least your mother phoned right away this morning.”
Walking with Brig into the hospital, Molly decided she was definitely out of her comfort zone. Instantly the typical smells assailed her nostrils. Antibacterial cleaning products, mingling with the heavier scents of various medications, she supposed. Molly had wanted to wait outside with Laila, but Brig wouldn’t hear of that. The late winter weather was still frigid, and, after yesterday’s reprieve, fresh storm clouds threatened.
Instead, she and Brig and Laila were in the elevator, riding up to the third floor as if they were an ordinary family coming to visit a beloved relative. Which they were...except for the family part.
Molly was just a neighbor.
As soon as they walked out of the elevator, Brig’s mother spied him. With a happy shout, Bess Collier flew into his arms. Just in time he handed off the baby to Molly, who blended into the background. “My boy,” Bess said with tears in her eyes. She held him tight for a long moment before drawing back to study him from head to foot, a mother checking for damage. “You’re safe,” she said at last, the tears rolling down her cheeks. Then she stepped away for a better, even longer look—and saw Molly.
Shock, then more joy showed in her face. “Molly, how are you? I know, we should have told you and Thomas we were leaving town.” Brig’s mom was a very pretty woman, slim and straight, with the same dark hair as Brig, but clearly the family crisis had taken its toll. Molly noted her pale face and the dark circles that were a perfect match for Brig’s. “In fact, I thought we had,” she said in an exasperated tone. “Joe promised to call your father after we got here—then forgot. He’s been so stressed.” She moved as if to draw Molly close, then stopped.
Bess’s gaze snapped to the baby in Molly’s arms. She glanced at Brig.
“You’ve brought Laila, too!” A second later she was holding the baby, talking to her. The look when she gazed down at the little girl was instantly one of pure love. “Isn’t she beautiful? Yes, this is your...grandma. Hi, darling. Welcome to...” She shook her head. “I keep forgetting. We’re not in Liberty.” She looked again at Brig. “You can’t imagine how hard this past week has been.”
Assuring her that he could, Brig asked about his grandmother.
“She’s doing better. She still has a long way to go,” Bess said, “but she could be released to rehab by next week.”
Molly heard a distant chime, and Brig’s gaze shifted to beyond the nurses’ station to the bank of elevators. His father stepped out. When he spotted Brig standing there, he loped straight for his son. Laughing, relieved, it seemed
to Molly, he clapped Brig on the back, as if not to let emotion overcome him.
Joe Collier was a rough-and-tumble sort, she had always thought, with an almost rigid bearing that bespoke his long military career. He still had a head of thick brown hair, though it was lighter than Brig’s, but the same blue eyes.
“You’re a welcome sight,” he said in the gruff tone Molly had heard ever since the Colliers had moved in next door. Like Bess, he pulled back, eyes glassy bright to assess his only child. “When did you get here?”
“About fifteen minutes ago, sir.”
“No, I meant Liberty.”
Brig told him, then added, “Sorry I couldn’t give you a heads-up. You know how those military hops can be.”
“Quick and dirty,” Joe agreed with another laugh. He stopped smiling when Brig explained about the new key for their house. Molly noticed he still called his father sir.
“So where have you been staying?”
“At Molly’s.” Brig gestured toward her. “Next door.”
“I’m sorry I forgot to call Thomas.” Joe’s gaze homed in on her. “Seems we’re having a real reunion here.” He leaned to kiss her cheek. “Great to see you, Molly.” He took another step to grin at his wife, then peeled back Laila’s blanket. “Hello there, too, angel. Aren’t you something? Look at those dark eyes, Bess, and have you ever seen such little hands? She’s like a miniature.”
“Sheer perfection,” Bess murmured.
Brig said, “She’s certainly got a good set of lungs.”
“Cries a lot, does she?” Joe didn’t appear worried. “I can’t wait to hear that.”
Brig grinned, too. “Be careful what you wish for.”
Oh, yes, Molly thought. Be very careful.
* * *
BRIG DIDN’T CARE for hospitals. Sean’s tragic death was still too fresh and stark in his mind, and he and Zada weren’t the first losses Brig had experienced in his unit. He’d begun to sweat as soon as he entered the hospital, and was halfway to a full-blown panic attack before he and Molly had even walked into his grandmother Collier’s room.
Blood. Tissue. Body parts...the screams of survivors.
He couldn’t stop the replay. And always there was his own sense of guilt.
Brig hesitated in the doorway. All at once he was glad one of the nurses had told them infants weren’t permitted to visit, so Brig’s parents had taken Laila down to the lobby to wait, obviously eager to become better acquainted with her.
Now he heard the familiar rhythmic beeping of monitors, smelled the stomach-turning scents of rubbing alcohol and about a dozen other things he couldn’t identify but didn’t like. Molly must have felt the same. She held back, and for courage himself, he grasped her hand. His parents loved her. So did his grandmother, even if Molly didn’t appear to feel she belonged here.
“Oh, no, I don’t think I should,” she said, tugging at his hold. “I’ll sit with Joe and Bess—”
“My grandmother will want to see you.”
He took a breath, then strolled toward his grandmother’s bed. She’d been dozing, her mouth half-open, and looked way too much like a corpse in Brig’s view; for an instant he couldn’t breathe. The faded hospital gown she wore wasn’t even close to the brightly colored clothes she favored, always with a bit of bling, and her hair was stringy and damp. Then, as if sensing him there, she opened her eyes, and he saw that familiar flash of blue.
“Brigham Collier.” Her scolding tone—weaker than normal—didn’t fool him, but if she’d suffered a minor stroke, it hadn’t affected her speech. “Where have you been? I have no protection here. That son of mine and his wife are a couple of bullies.”
Brig grinned. Surprised that she was glad to see him, considering their rift, he let go of Molly’s hand and bent to kiss Grandma Collier soundly on the forehead. “What’s this I hear about you trying to hurt yourself? Now, look,” he admonished. “You’re locked up in this place as though you were in a solitary cell in the brig. I say we spring you and head for somewhere warm and sunny.”
“The Caribbean,” she murmured, but when she lifted her hand to touch him, it fell back onto the sheets. Brig picked it up and held it, feeling the brittle bones beneath her skin. “Sounds lovely, but there’ll be no world travel for me. I’ve turned into a useless old woman.”
“Don’t say that.” He softened his tone. “You’ll be on your feet in no time.”
“I was up the first day after my surgery. If you think you know pain, you don’t.”
Brig patted her hand. “Well, don’t give up. We can talk later when you feel better about getting you some help in cleaning out that house.”
“I was only clearing some junk,” she said. “I have no intention of moving. I’ve been in my home for over half a century, and when I leave, they’ll carry me out—just like those paramedics did when I broke my silly hip.”
“Let’s not argue. You concentrate on getting well first.”
She made a disgruntled sound. “You’re just like Joe after all.”
Brig didn’t press the issue. He turned to find Molly perched on a chair by the empty second bed in the room. She was studying her hands and biting her lower lip.
“You have another visitor,” he told his grandmother. “Will the senior Mrs. Collier please stop worrying about tomorrow— It’s Molly, Grandma.”
The woman’s sharp gaze sought Molly’s softer one. “Come right over here. I haven’t seen you in years.” She cast Brig a chiding glance as Molly all but fell into her arms with a half laugh, half sob. They clutched each other. Molly and his grandmother had once been friends, and neither had forgotten.
“Shame on you, Brig. Letting this woman go,” she said in her most stern manner.
Brig had heard the lecture more than once—when she was still talking to him. His grandma was so candid and forceful that at times she could make Brig’s dad appear like a wimp and not a onetime military man.
“Molly is prettier now than she was even then.” She squeezed her with her good hand. “You listen to me, Brigham. Why I expect you will when you never have before is another matter, but sometimes we mortals do get a second chance.”
“Grandma.”
“That is, if Molly would even be willing to try again. Getting dumped practically at the altar is any woman’s worst nightmare. Shame on you,” she went on, then paused. “On second thought, you don’t deserve her.”
True enough, Brig mused.
“Mrs. Collier, please.” Molly was blushing. She knew his grandmother could be plainspoken, so that was no surprise, but she couldn’t meet Brig’s gaze. “Eight years is a very long time,” she added in a shaky voice.
But his grandmother didn’t agree.
“Eight years is no time at all. When you get to be my age, it’s a blink and nothing more. The important thing is not to waste what time you have left.” She gestured at herself, then planted a kiss on Molly’s cheek. “Of course, that’s up to you. I wouldn’t trust this one myself.” She pointed to Brig.
“And you’d be right,” Brig murmured, remembering his vow to win Molly’s forgiveness and then her friendship. If he didn’t deserve either, he surely didn’t deserve her love a second time.
“You can’t play soldier forever,” his grandmother told him. Brig could hear a growing faintness in her tone. She was getting overtired. “Someday you’ll have to come home, Brigham.” The words were all but whispered. “Don’t wait until it’s too late.”
* * *
“IT’S MY FAULT,” Brig said to Molly. His grandmother had unexpectedly taken a turn for the worse later that afternoon, which had upset Molly, too. “I shouldn’t have pushed her about moving.”
“I’m sure that’s not why she started to run a fever.”
He and Molly walked out of the lobby and headed toward
the parking lot with Laila. Molly pulled in a deep breath of cold night air, and not just to clear her sinuses of those hospital smells. She needed to purge her emotions, too. Like Brig, she was worried again for his grandmother. And she couldn’t stop hearing Mrs. Collier’s words, all the while knowing they had come too late for her and Brig.
As she followed him to her car, Molly tried to think instead of the few years she and Andrew had shared after Brig left, and of their wedding that had actually happened.
She didn’t dare entertain the fantasy of finding that kind of contentment again, this time with Brig.
Trusting him not to hurt her or to leave her behind wasn’t possible.
“I hope your grandmother’s fever wasn’t my fault,” she said. “The flu is really sweeping through Little Darlings now. One case the other day has become six. Even the teacher for my three-year-olds has called in sick for tomorrow, Ann told me. Maybe I’m a carrier.”
“I doubt the incubation period is only a few hours. That’s all we spent at the hospital before Grandma’s temperature spiked.”
Brig unlocked the doors, then slipped Laila into her car seat. He glanced up at the sky. The night air felt heavy and threatening. The clouds were already thick in the sky. “We shouldn’t drive back tonight. The weather forecast doesn’t look good and is getting worse by the hour. We don’t want to get caught in this coming storm on the road to Cincy, especially with the baby—plus I can’t leave my parents when Grandma Collier is worse.”
Bess had already given them the key to his grandmother’s home. She and Joe would be along later, or not at all if they stayed the night at the hospital again. Laila was already at her limit, fussing and most likely crampy. She needed a warm place, a bedtime bottle and perhaps more of someone walking the floor with her. Did Molly want a night with Brig, too? Maybe alone? Yet she couldn’t risk Laila’s safety.
“Another day won’t matter,” Molly finally said without the confidence she wished for. “I’ll call Ann about my replacement for tomorrow. Two, in fact, counting that sick teacher.”
