Her legs grew weak, and she looked up at Jonathan. His eyes were closed, and a small smile played along his mouth. The urge to reach out and caress his lips was so strong that Molly linked her fingers tightly together around his neck, lest she do something foolish. But just for a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to have his mouth on hers. The imagined sensation was so strong that she closed her eyes and forced her mind to go blank.
“Molly?” Jonathan’s voice was a husky whisper, and her eyes fluttered slowly open.
“Umm, yes?”
“The song is over.”
“Oh!” A pink tinge of embarrassment crept up her face as she snatched her arms free, giving herself a mental shake. She barely knew this man, and she was acting like a lovesick schoolgirl! What on earth was the matter with her? Molly was silent as Jonathan led her off the dance floor and back to their booth.
“More coffee?” Jonathan asked, his voice once again normal.
Molly nodded and deliberately avoided his gaze. Did he have to look at her like that? Didn’t he know how much it rattled her? Aware that he was watching her intently, Molly racked her brain for a safe subject to talk about. She certainly didn’t want to give him an opportunity to start asking personal questions again.
“How long will you be in town?” she inquired, taking a sip of her coffee.
“I’m not really sure, probably about two weeks. I wish I could stay longer, though—I’m worried about my grandmother.” Concern etched his handsome features, and Molly’s pulse quickened in alarm.
Her aunt and Jonathan’s grandmother, Alma Kent, had been friends for as long as she could remember. Why, Alma Kent, Aunt Emily and Ralph Pritchard did practically everything together. Molly often teased that they were like the three musketeers, because they were always together. The thought that something might be wrong with Alma caused Molly untold concern.
“Is something wrong with your grandmother? Is she ill?” Molly’s heart fluttered.
Jonathan shook his head. “No, she’s not ill. It’s just—well, she’s getting on in years and I don’t know how much longer she can go on living alone. That house of hers is just too big for her to handle now.”
A sudden web of uneasiness wound itself into her thoughts. “What will happen when she can’t live alone anymore?” Molly asked casually, absently fingering the rim of her coffee cup. “Will you move her to Portland?”
Jonathan shook his head again. “No, moving my grandmother just wouldn’t be practical. I travel a lot and I don’t think it’s a good idea to uproot her from her friends at this point in her life.”
Not practical for who? she wondered. Moving his grandmother to Portland might just cramp his style.
“What will happen to Alma when she can’t live alone anymore?” Molly asked again. She was prying, and she knew it, but she was curious to know just what Jonathan Kent’s plans for his grandmother were. Alma Kent was like a member of her family, and Molly cared desperately about her.
Jonathan shrugged. “I’m not really sure, Molly. I’m working on a few things for her.” He flashed her a charming smile, and Molly stiffened.
I’ll just bet you are, she thought sourly. Probably some cold concrete building where his grandmother could idle away her time braiding old rags together or painting happy faces on sleeping turtles.
“What kinds of things?” A ripple of anger rolled up her spine, but she tried not to show it.
To her surprise, Jonathan grinned. “Don’t worry, Molly. I assure you my intentions toward my grandmother are completely honorable.”
Honorable. A storm cloud began brewing in the depths of Molly’s eyes as a sharp pain from the past rose up like bile in her throat. That was exactly the term Paul Host, her former fiancé, had used when he had tried to convince Molly to put Aunt Emily in a home.
Listening to Jonathan talk about his plans for his grandmother, Molly had the most maddening urge to squash his handsome face in the gooey chocolate dessert the waiter had left for him. Like it or not, she realized, she was going to have to keep an eye on him, if only for Alma’s sake. If Jonathan Kent thought he was going to waltz in here and—
“Miss Maguire?” The maître d’ was at their table, his face a mask of concern. “I don’t want to alarm you, but we have an emergency telephone call for you.”
“For me?” Molly was too startled to do little more than stare at the man. “Are you sure?” Who on earth knew she was here? Aunt Emily! Her heart began to pound, and the strength seemed to flee from her body.
“Yes, I’m quite sure. If you’ll follow me, you can take the call in my office.”
Molly rose on trembling legs. Jonathan, sensing her alarm, took control of the situation and put a protective arm around her waist as they hurried through the restaurant.
“Something is wrong. I just know it.” Molly clutched Jonathan’s sleeve as they entered the office.
“You don’t know that yet. Go on, Molly. Answer the phone.” He urged her forward.
Molly stared blankly at the telephone for a moment, then lifted the receiver to her ear.
“Hello?” Her voice was a puffy whisper, and her eyes grew wide as she listened attentively.
Watching her face intently, Jonathan stepped closer and put his hands on her shoulders. “Molly?”
Scowling, she shook her head and dropped the receiver. “I don’t believe it!”
“Molly? What don’t you believe? What’s happened?”
Raising her stunned eyes to his, Molly shook her head in disbelief. “Aunt Emily has been arrested!”
Chapter Three
“When I get my hands on Clarence Pritchard,” Molly muttered as she stormed up the cement stairs of the sheriff’s office.
Jonathan caught her arm. “Molly, please, settle down. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding.” She ignored his soothing words and continued up the steps.
“I’ve known Clarence Pritchard my whole life. He’s been known to do some stupid things, but this—” she stopped at the top of the steps and shook her fist “—this has got to take the cake! Arresting Aunt Emily like a common criminal. When I get my hands on him—” She shook free of Jonathan’s grasp, yanked the door open and charged inside.
“Where’s my aunt?” she demanded, blue eyes blazing.
Junior, the deputy sheriff, calmly sat behind his desk, munching on a hamburger. Spotting Molly, he gallantly wiped a clump of ketchup off his chin and grinned. “Evening, Miss Molly.”
Molly glared at him across the counter. “Junior! What the devil is going on around here?”
Junior spotted Jonathan behind her and directed his full attention to the newcomer. “Evening.” His grin widened. “New in town, aren’t you?” He gave Jonathan a conspiratorial wink. “Bout time Miss Molly got herself a new beau.”
Jonathan dropped a restraining hand on Molly’s shoulder just as she began to advance threateningly toward the deputy. She’d wring Junior’s neck with her bare hands!
“Good evening, Deputy,” Jonathan replied smoothly, tightening his grip on her shoulder. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am new in town.” He extended his hand. “Jonathan Kent.”
Junior grinned from ear to ear, then politely wiped his hand on his pants before taking Jonathan’s outstretched hand. “Name’s Elmer. Most folks around here call me Junior, after my daddy,” he added proudly.
Molly rolled her eyes heavenward. These two were idly exchanging pleasantries while her aunt sat in jail!
“Jonathan!” Molly tapped her foot impatiently. “Whose side are you on?”
“Your side,” he whispered. “But you’re not going to get anywhere in the state you’re in. And it’s certainly not going to help if you get yourself arrested for disturbing the peace.”
“He—” she nodded toward Junior “—he wouldn’t dare! I could wrestle him to the ground when we were kids, and I’ll do it again if need be.” She narrowed her gaze on the blushing deputy. Sensing her displeasure, Junior shifted uneasily, his ey
es darting first to Molly, then to Jonathan.
“Molly, please?” Jonathan groaned, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “Calm down. Why don’t you let me handle this for you? I’m an attorney, remember?”
Molly scowled up at Jonathan. Let him handle it? She wasn’t used to letting anyone handle things for her, particularly a man. “Thank you. But I’m quite capable of handling things on my own. Without your help,” she added pointedly.
Jonathan stared into her upturned face. “Yes, I’m sure you are,” he said smoothly. “But, at the moment, I think you’re too upset to see things clearly. Besides, how much experience have you had arranging bail for a prisoner’s release?” One brow rose in expectation.
Molly swallowed hard. “P-prisoner’s release?” Her stomach lurched helplessly, coming to lodge somewhere in her throat.
Jonathan rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms across his chest. “Yes, release. And how about bail?”
“Bail?” she echoed weakly, lifting her face so that her eyes met his. She’d never even considered Aunt Emily a prisoner. She just assumed she’d come down here, scare the dickens out of Junior and Clarence and then take her aunt home. But release and bail! She didn’t have any experience in such matters. Aunt Emily had never gotten herself arrested before.
Molly chewed her lip nervously. Maybe she’d better let Jonathan handle this. Just once, just this one time, she’d have to; under the circumstances she really didn’t have much choice.
“Molly?” Jonathan’s voice held a question.
“Oh, all right,” she snapped, leveling a hostile gaze on Junior again. “You handle it.” She stepped back from the counter, keeping a watchful eye on the deputy.
“Pardon me, Junior. Please forgive us for interrupting your evening meal.” Jonathan was being deliberately cheerful, and Molly rolled her eyes. This was a small town; most folks hadn’t experienced the charms of a big city lawyer before. Judging from poor Junior’s reaction, it was going to be quite interesting to watch. “I was wondering if we could trouble you to tell us what the charges are against my client.”
“Yes sir.” Junior snapped to attention.
Molly rolled her eyes. Charming was one thing, overly solicitous was quite another matter. She gave Jonathan’s arm a yank. “Don’t apologize to him,” she whispered. “He’s got a lot of nerve, stuffing his face while my aunt rots in a jail cell.” Anger flashed in the depths of her eyes.
Jonathan chuckled softly and shook his head. “Molly, your aunt hasn’t even been here an hour yet. I hardly think she’s rotting.” He gave her a sly wink. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt to dazzle the competition,” he whispered, causing Molly to stiffen. Was that what Jonathan had been doing to her all evening? Dazzling her? She thought for a moment, then realized that’s exactly what Jonathan Kent had been doing to her all evening! The thought only aggravated her more.
Pulling her gaze from Jonathan, Molly stared at Junior. Sensing he was the center of everyone’s attention, Junior grabbed his hamburger and continued eating.
“Molly?”
She turned toward Jonathan, and something in his face softened her defenses.
“Trust me, please.” Jonathan’s voice was caressing, coaxing her into a blurred limbo where time was suspended and all action stopped, except for the pounding of her heart. Trust him? Molly swallowed hard. She hadn’t trusted anyone in such a long time. The last person she had trusted was Paul. Look how that turned out.
Surveying Jonathan intently, Molly thought about what he’d said. She didn’t even know him, not really. Trust him?
As she stared at him, her nerves flickered awake, then slowly ignited. Something passed between them. It was gone in an instant, leaving her feeling slightly breathless and off kilter.
She’d try, just for now. She’d try to trust him. “All right,” she finally agreed, wondering about her judgment. “But I want to see my aunt and I don’t want to wait until Junior finishes his dinner!” She spun on her heel and headed for the chairs lining the back wall. Molly dropped into a seat, but couldn’t sit still. What on earth could her aunt have done? Aunt Emily didn’t drive, so it couldn’t be parking violations. Nickodemus, their cat, had all his shots. What on earth could the woman have done?
Twisting in her seat, Molly craned her neck, trying to hear the conversation. Jonathan’s voice carried across the sparsely furnished room as a well-modulated muffle. Junior’s voice was louder, but she could barely make out what he was saying. Even when Junior wasn’t eating, she had a hard time understanding the man. Smog had settled in his brain years ago.
Jonathan finally turned and flashed her a thumbs-up sign. Frustrated, Molly jumped up and bounded across the room.
“What’s happened? When can I see my aunt? Why was she arrested?” Standing behind Jonathan, she was suddenly struck by how broad his back was. Unconsciously, Molly put her hand on his shoulder, feeling a desperate need to touch him. Jonathan turned, and his gaze collided with hers. His look mesmerized her, and her breath froze in her throat. Frightened by her feelings, Molly yanked her hand back, suddenly feeling foolish.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, cursing the telltale blush she felt creep up her face. “I guess I’m just upset.”
Jonathan smiled wickedly. “Don’t be sorry, Molly. I understand perfectly. To tell you the truth, I’ve had a hard time keeping my hands to myself tonight, too.” His eyes danced and she squirmed uncomfortably. “But let’s wait until we’re somewhere more private. Then you can touch me whenever and wherever you want.”
“Jonathan!” Molly’s face flamed brighter, and she noted that Junior was taking in the entire scene. Lord, the way the gossip mill worked, everyone in town would know about her date with Jonathan by morning. Jamming a rebellious curl back into her braid, Molly struggled for composure. “Please, Jonathan,” she whispered hoarsely. “What will Junior think?”
“He’ll think Miss Molly’s got herself a new beau.” Jonathan’s boyish grin sent her heart fluttering.
Squaring her shoulders, Molly chose to deliberately ignore Jonathan’s words. “What about Aunt Emily? When can I see her?”
“Sheriff Pritchard’s on his way back. As soon as he gets here, I’ll know more. Seems the deputy doesn’t have the faintest idea what’s going on.” That was nothing new, Molly noted. Junior rarely had any idea what was going on.
But, she had to admit, Junior wasn’t such a bad guy. Ever since he’d had a crush on her in fourth grade, she’d had a soft spot for him.
Jonathan patted her shoulder. “All we can do is sit and wait.” Sitting and waiting was the last thing Molly wanted to do. She paced the office in frantic anticipation. Clarence Pritchard was certainly going to get a piece of her mind.
“Molly, why don’t you sit down? You’re wearing a hole in the linoleum.” Jonathan patted the seat next to him and picked up the evening paper that was lying on the chair. With a deliberate coolness that only increased her agitation, he began working on a crossword puzzle.
When the front door finally opened, Molly sprang at the sheriff, her heart pounding like a jackhammer. “Clarence Pritchard! What the devil is going on around here? I demand to know why you arrested my aunt.”
The sheriff tipped his hat politely. “Evening, Miss Molly.” Spotting Jonathan, who rose, the sheriff smiled again. “Evening.” He glanced back at Molly and gave her a wink. “It’s ‘bout time you got yourself a new beau,” he whispered.
Lord, she thought, here we go again! “Clarence Pritchard, don’t you have better things to do with your time than to arrest harmless old women?” Molly stood on tiptoe, hands on her hips, glaring up into the man’s jowly face.
“Harmless?” Clarence grunted, then sidestepped Molly. Walking back around the counter, he tossed his hat on the desk. “Your aunt caught me good with that blasted cane of hers.” He turned and bent over, pointing delicately to his broad backside.
“Probably deserved it,” she muttered under her breath. She felt Jonathan’s h
and clamp down on her shoulder, and he shot her a warning glance before giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Molly, please?” Jonathan moaned.
She turned to face him. She had to admire how cool and calm Jonathan appeared. She felt as if a powder keg had exploded inside her.
“Sheriff, I’m Jonathan Kent, Miss Maguire’s attorney. Would you please tell me what the charges are against my client?”
Molly opened her mouth, but the look Jonathan shot her stopped her, and she clamped her lips closed again. She’d said she’d trust him, she reminded herself darkly.
“Well—” Sheriff Pritchard scratched his chin absently and shook his head “—to start with, there’s disturbing the peace. Then there’s trespassing.” He paused to rub his backside again. “Not to mention assaulting an officer of the court,” he added pointedly, giving Molly the full benefit of his hound-dog eyes.
“What the devil are you talking about, Clarence?” Molly’s patience with the whole mess was gone, along with her temper.
“Now, Molly, your aunt was picketing again over at the senior center. I asked her to leave. I was real nice ‘bout it, too.” He shook his head. “You know how stubborn the old gal can be. Your aunt refused to leave.”
If he had expected sympathy from her, he was in for a rude awakening. Molly’s eyes darkened and she glared up at him. Sensing her displeasure, he rushed on. “Now, Molly, I tried explaining to her that there was nothing I could do ‘bout the center being closed down. It’s out of my hands. All I can do is try to keep the peace in town, and that means keeping your aunt and the other seniors away from that place.”
“Clarence!” Molly’s voice was pitched high, and disbelief filled her eyes. “Do you mean to tell me you arrested my aunt because she wouldn’t leave the senior center?”
“Yup.” He shook his head slowly, then turned his attention to Jonathan. “The center’s been closed down, some code violations and things. Owners want to sell the land for a fancy new shopping mall. I hear tell it’s gonna be real nice, too. Just what this town needs.” Clarence rocked back on his heels, obviously delighted with the idea.
Heavenly Match Page 3
