On Sunday, Molly was “too busy” to see him.
He had a lot to do before he left Laramie, too. Including making hotel reservations for the three of them Monday night and an appointment with the tile vendor first thing Tuesday morning. He also arranged a surprise for Molly and Braden that he hoped would go a long way toward solving their “live bull” problem.
Unfortunately, when he went to pick them up first thing Monday morning, Molly looked more stressed out than he had ever seen her. Her son was in a foul mood, too.
“Something wrong, buddy?” Chance asked gently, figuring it would be best to talk to the little fella first. He and Molly could discuss whatever was on her mind while he was driving.
Braden crossed his arms over his chest, looking every inch as stubborn as his mommy. “Want my friends,” he said.
Chance looked at Molly. She compressed her lips. “He knows today is Monday, and that’s a school day.”
Braden stomped his foot. “Go school now!”
Molly sighed. “I’ve explained we’re going to visit another school this morning, one that’s a little far away.”
Braden dug in further. “No ’nother school.”
Molly turned her glance skyward. “Let’s just say he is not in a cooperative frame of mind,” she said under her breath. “On this of all days.”
No kidding, Chance thought. He turned back to Braden. “Some people like playing hooky.”
Braden made a recalcitrant face at Chance.
“He doesn’t know what that is,” she explained, wringing her hands.
And there was obviously no time to go into it.
“Right.” Realizing that Molly was probably nervous enough about how things were going to go at Worthington Academy for all of them, and further delaying their departure would not help that, he glanced at his watch. “Maybe we should just hit the road.”
Molly relaxed enough to send him a grateful glance that made him glad he had decided to tag along and provide the much-needed moral support. “We really don’t want to be late,” she agreed.
At her request, they took her SUV. He drove.
Braden fell asleep in his car seat soon after they started out. And they arrived in the city with just enough time to eat a quick lunch. Molly changed Braden—who’d gotten ketchup on his clothes—in her vehicle. A wash of his face and hands and a quick brush of his hair and they were ready to head for the Worthington Academy campus.
As they approached the glitzy private school, Chance shot Molly a reassuring glance, even as he wondered whether she would feel instantly at home there or completely out of her depth. And what either of those options would mean for Braden, or for the two of them.
* * *
GIVEN HOW MUCH research she had done on private schools in the upper echelon of Dallas society, Molly thought she would be prepared for her first glimpse of Worthington Academy. She wasn’t even close. And hence, she could only stare as Chance drove through the manicured grounds at the Colonial-style ivy-covered brick buildings and numerous athletic fields, all with individual bleachers.
With the familiarity of an alumni, Chance pointed out the PE building that housed the indoor swimming pool and basketball and volleyball courts. Braden gaped at the students in uniform, walking in orderly lines across the quad. “It’s even lovelier than the brochure photos,” Molly murmured, impressed.
Chance nodded, his face an inscrutable mask.
“And you and all your siblings went here?”
Chance nodded as he stopped and waited for the cross-country team to run en masse across the street in front of them.
“Did you like it?”
Chance drove on. “Wyatt and I had a tough time with all the rules.”
Not exactly a ringing endorsement.
“Zane, Garrett and Sage thrived.” He parked in the visitor lot, outside the administration building. Paused long enough to put on his tie and jacket, and then they were off.
Elspeth Pyle, the headmistress, greeted them cordially. The slender fortysomething brunette was as elegant as Molly had imagined she would be.
She introduced them to the sophisticated silver-haired woman at her side. “This is Dr. Mitchard. She’s our school psychologist for the pre-K division. She’ll be administering the cognitive evaluation for Braden while you tour the facilities and observe an actual classroom environment. And this is Julianne.” She pointed to a young woman who looked fresh out of college herself. “One of our tour guides.”
“Mommy. You stay,” Braden said when Dr. Mitchard attempted to usher him into the testing center.
Molly knelt down. “Chance and I’ll be right back, honey. You just go with Dr. Mitchard and answer her questions. Okay?”
Braden’s lower lip trembled.
For a second, Molly thought her little boy was going to have a complete meltdown.
But something in the confident, encouraging way Chance was looking at her son bucked him up. Braden squared his little shoulders and took Dr. Mitchard’s hand. They disappeared into a room filled with toys and puzzles. Moments later, Molly could hear him chatting happily.
The testing under way, Molly and Chance were led down a hall, to the wing that held the pre-K classes. The doors had glass insets. A press of the intercom button next to the door, and they could hear what was going on inside.
In one, A. A. Milne was being read and animatedly discussed.
In another, the teacher was holding up large prints. The children were confidently and correctly calling out the name of the artists—Monet, Rembrandt, Picasso.
Molly was unable to help but be enthralled. Her son would thrive here. She was certain of it. And she would be able to rest easy, knowing she had made sure he started out life with every advantage.
To her relief, Braden certainly looked happy when she had finished her own interview with the admission counselor and headmistress.
She joined him and Chance in the preschool lobby, where they were seated in armchairs, side by side, engaged in some sort of nonsensical game that had her son quietly giggling.
Unable to recall when he had enjoyed another adult’s company so very much, Molly smiled at them.
Chance smiled back.
Braden, Molly noted, wasn’t the only guy really enjoying himself here.
“We go, Mommy?” Braden ran over and embraced her fiercely.
Hugging him back, Molly nodded.
Braden moved between them, taking her hand and Chance’s. Together, they followed the brick path through the elegantly landscaped quad to the visitor parking lot.
“Good meeting, I guess?” Chance said.
Molly nodded. All her questions had been answered. “The staff was surprisingly thorough.”
“When will you find out whether he’s admitted or not?”
Molly jerked in a breath, suddenly feeling anxious again. Aware Chance was waiting for her answer, she replied, “The decisions will be made by the end of next week, and all midyear applicants will receive a letter via regular mail the week after that.”
Which meant she would know before Christmas. Would her wish for her son be granted? Molly could only hope. Meantime, they had what was left of the afternoon ahead of them. Work on the Circle H ranch house that still needed to be completed. And to do that, they needed all the supplies.
“Do you think it’s too late to go to the tile warehouse?” Molly asked after getting into her SUV.
Chance glanced at his watch. “They close at six. With traffic, probably. But there’s a place nearby that I’d like to show you.”
Braden piped up from his safety seat in the back. “Want to play!”
Chance shot him an affectionate look in the rearview mirror. “I think that can be arranged.”
* * *
“WOW,” BRADEN B
REATHED when they walked into the Highland Village Toy Emporium.
Wow was right, Molly thought, taking her son by the hand. The exclusive store was decorated for Christmas and filled to the brim with all the latest playthings.
A well-heeled older woman approached them, a huge smile on her face. “Mr. Lockhart!” she said, introducing herself to Molly and Braden as the store owner, Rochelle Lewis. “A little early.”
Chance flashed a winning grin. “Not too early, I hope?”
“Definitely not!” Rochelle beamed. “We can take you upstairs now, if you like.”
“What’s upstairs?” Molly asked curiously.
Chance reached out and took her and Braden’s hands. “You’ll see.”
They followed Rochelle through an employees-only door, up a set of cement stairs, through another big door.
Inside, the large area had been divided into three sections. Elaborate dollhouses with thousand-dollar price tags and play kitchen sets on the left, very fancy riding toys in the middle. On the left was the elaborate Leo and Lizzie World Adventure train set and all the accoutrements, which was sold out everywhere.
Braden, who couldn’t have been less interested when Molly showed him the brochure, had an entirely different view when confronted with the reality of the fancy wooden tracks, windmills, stations, bridges and locomotive engines and sidecars. “Wow,” he said again.
In addition to the basic components—which could have been located anywhere—there was a mini-set featuring the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. Another that traveled through the Grand Canyon. One with Big Ben and Buckingham Palace and the Thames in London. The Eiffel Tower in France. The pyramids in Egypt. Even one with the River Walk and the Alamo in San Antonio, Texas—a place where Braden had actually visited. Twenty in all, thus far. With new adventure sets coming out twice yearly.
“Take as long as you like,” Rochelle said.
“I’m not sure showing him this is a good idea,” Molly whispered to Chance while Braden moved a train along the wooden track, looking thoroughly entranced. “Given that we—I mean I—can no longer get even the basic components.”
Chance shrugged with the ease of a man who had grown up with an unlimited bank account. “True, but the emporium has two remaining deluxe collector’s sets left that include every item made to date. One of which is yours, if you want to buy the whole thing.”
“They won’t break it up?”
“Manufacturer won’t allow it. Already asked.”
Rochelle was back, price list in hand.
Molly took it.
And when confronted with the total, nearly fainted.
* * *
SHE HAD BARELY recovered when her son turned to her plaintively. “Want Leo and Lizzie trains, Mommy.”
“I know, honey.” She forced herself to smile, as the store owner trailed off to give them some privacy. “Aren’t they wonderful?” And when the basic set did come back in stock, probably at some point after the holidays...
“Santa bring?” Braden inquired hopefully.
“Santa Claus has all kinds of trains,” Chance soothed him. He was obviously more prepared to handle the situation than she was.
Braden got the mutinous look back on his face. “Want these,” he stated, then turned and again began to play.
Chance stepped back. When she joined him, he whispered in her ear, “They have locomotive sets at the superstores, in a much less costly version.”
But it wasn’t the one she had wanted and now Braden yearned to have, Molly thought in disappointment.
“I checked. The other brands are in stock, too, so if you want me to go out tonight, while you know who is asleep, and take care of it for you...” Chance continued.
Molly drew a deep breath.
The store owner returned “I hate to rush you, Mr. Lockhart. Especially given how much your family has patronized our emporium over the years, but there are two other customers, standing by, ready to...”
Molly looked at the train set again.
Then the price.
With the kind of tuition she was going to have to pay at Worthington Academy, she just couldn’t do it. “I’m sorry,” she said reluctantly. “The deluxe collector’s set is a little much for him right now.”
Oblivious to the whispered negotiations going on behind him, Braden continued moving the train along the tracks.
“I understand.”
Rochelle looked at Chance.
“I’d still like the stuffed giraffe we talked about for my nephew, Max,” he said.
“Certainly.”
Chance turned to Molly. “Mind if I go down and take care of it?”
Molly forced a smile. “No, of course not.”
It would give Braden a little more time to play.
Which sadly, as it happened, was going to be as close as he got to owning a Leo and Lizzie World Adventure train set this holiday season.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Chance said when they were leaving the upscale toy emporium.
She knew his heart had been in the right place. It always was where she and her son were concerned. She reached over and squeezed his hand. “It’s good to have reminders why I need to work harder, bring in more salary, so that next year at this time, cash reserves won’t be an issue.” A few of those jobs for Lucille’s über-wealthy friends, she encouraged herself silently, and...“I’ll be able to do whatever I want, whenever I want.”
Chance studied her, his emotions as veiled as his eyes. Once again, they seemed at odds.
Finally he said, “You really think Braden would know the difference between the high-priced versus the low-priced locomotive sets?”
“Before he’d actually seen and played with them? Probably not, but I would,” Molly admitted honestly.
She could see she had disappointed Chance with her frankness. She couldn’t help that, either, she thought on a troubled sigh.
He’d always had money. She’d never had enough. And like it or not, that created a divide between them that was not liable to go away.
Chapter Eight
Noting it had been quiet for a good twenty minutes now, Chance crossed the hall. Rapped quietly on Molly’s hotel room door. There was a pause; then she opened it just enough so they could talk, without inviting him in.
“Everything okay?” he asked her quietly.
“You heard the meltdown?” she whispered back.
Chance doubted anyone on their end of the hall hadn’t heard it. But figuring she didn’t need to be reminded of that, he complimented facetiously instead. “Your son’s got quite a set of lungs on him.”
She cracked a faint smile at the joke. “Tell me about it.”
“But he’s asleep now?”
Nodding, she moved so she was no longer blocking his view, and Chance could see inside the room. Braden was curled up in the middle of the king-size bed, his favorite blue blankie tucked beneath his chin. His cherubic face still bore the evidence of his earlier tears, but he seemed to be resting peacefully now. Molly shook her head. “He finally exhausted himself.”
Chance commiserated with the little tyke. “And no wonder. Given the trip from Laramie to Dallas this morning, the afternoon spent being tested at the Worthington Academy—”
“Followed by the trip to the emporium to see the toy trains, and the dinner out he really did not want to sit through.”
Even though they had tried to make it simple and fast.
Molly leaned against the door frame, still keeping her voice low as she confided, almost as one parent to another, “Usually his bubble bath relaxes him, but tonight not even that did the trick. He just went into full temper tantrum. It was all I could do to get him into his jammies, never mind read him his usual bedtime story.”
&
nbsp; Chance wished she had called on him to help. “Tomorrow will be better,” he soothed.
She looked doubtful.
Wishing he could take her in his arms and make love to her until her tension eased, he said, “Can I get you anything? Bucket of ice? I don’t mind hitting the gift shop if you want juice or milk.”
“That’s really sweet of you.”
Sweet was not exactly the way he wanted to be perceived.
“But I think I’m going to take a cue from my son and try to get as much sleep as I can tonight.”
“Okay. Just so you know, though. My room may be a few doors down, but I’m just a text away.”
“Thank you. For everything today.” Without warning, Molly rose on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his cheek. She drew back and looked him in the eye. He caught her against him and kissed her back. At first on the cheek, gently, reverently, and then as she turned her face to his, on the mouth. Not in the way he had when the cookies were burning, but in a way that encouraged her to give him—them—a second chance.
Again, Molly drew back.
The yearning was in her amber eyes, even if she remained conflicted.
Yearning, Chance thought, was good.
Down the hall, the elevator dinged. Heavy metal doors could be heard opening. Voices, as other guests stepped off.
Aware he really did not want to push it, Chance reluctantly let Molly go. “Tomorrow then?”
“Bright and early,” she promised.
* * *
TO MOLLY’S RELIEF, by midmorning the next day, Braden’s mood was much improved. He handled their visit to the tile warehouse with his usual good cheer, and was still smiling and chattering exuberantly, as they all headed home.
“I like trains!” He lifted his hands high in the air, despite the constraints of his car seat safety harness.
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