by Renee Ryan
“Now?”
“Yes…now.”
Giving him no chance to argue, she tugged him aside while Molly and Hawkins continued reminiscing about their days at Charity House.
After issuing his own silent warning at Hawkins, Garrett turned to his sister. The look in her eyes had him sighing. “What’s happened now?”
“Callie means well, I know she does, and I love her for worrying about me. But, Garrett, she won’t let up.” She blew a strand of hair off her face. “She’s convinced I should reconcile with Reese.”
“Tell her she’s wrong.”
“You think I haven’t tried?” Fanny shoved at the same, stubborn lock of hair as before. “I told her Reese and I have come to an understanding. She won’t listen. If she keeps it up I…I’m going to leave town.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit drastic?”
“Mr. Hawkins has other hotels, and when I mentioned a possible desire to relocate, he said I can work at any of his properties in Chicago or St. Louis.”
“Fanny, running away isn’t the answer.”
Closing her eyes a moment, she drew in a careful breath. “I’m not running away.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Maybe I am. But, Garrett—” she fisted her hands by her sides “—I can’t think of any other solution.”
“Let me talk to Callie.”
“It’s not just her—it’s the whole family.” Frustration rang in her voice. “And that includes you.”
“What have I done?”
“You’ve been absolutely wonderful.” Her head fell forward and several locks of her hair curtained her face. “The whole family has been remarkably supportive.”
Though her words were spoken with affection, he’d never seen his sister look so defeated. “You’re saying we’ve been too nice to you over this business with Reese?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” She grimaced. “And don’t think I don’t appreciate it.”
“I can hardly stand this vast outpouring of your gratitude.”
“Don’t be snide. You know what I mean. You’re all killing me with kindness. Even Reese is treating me as though I’m the one who needs comforting.”
“Reese is a good man.”
“I know.” She practically shouted the words and drew Hawkins’s narrow-eyed gaze her way. Sighing, she cast an apologetic look at her boss, and then lowered her voice. “Reese is a very good man, but he’s not the man for me.”
“Yes, you’ve made that clear.”
Again, she glanced at her boss. Something flickered in her gaze, something Garrett couldn’t quite decipher. She shook her head. “It would be a mistake to backtrack now.”
“Then don’t.” Garrett considered his sister’s bent head and her tight fists. He knew she was hurting. He just didn’t know how to ease her pain. And that made him feel helpless.
He hated feeling helpless.
“If I only had to deal with the family, things might be bearable,” she said, her eyes still focused on the floor. “It’s the speculation, the whispers, the open criticism that hurts the most.”
Garrett had never put much stock in what other people said, but he’d never had to endure the kind of censure Fanny described. “Has it been bad?”
“You have no idea.” She visibly shuddered. “I’m not strong like Molly. I can’t pretend I don’t care what people say about me.”
He felt his blood run cold. “What do people say about Molly?”
“Don’t you know?”
“I don’t engage in gossip.”
Fanny glanced discreetly at her friend, cleared her throat. “She’s known as the girl who loves to be engaged almost as much as she loves the Lord.”
Instant fury bubbled up from the bottom of his soul. Molly deserved better. So did Fanny. From this moment on, Garrett would ensure neither suffered any more criticism, even if that meant he had to personally stop the gossip himself.
“Don’t you see, Garrett?” Fanny gave him a wobbly smile. “Mr. Hawkins’s offer to work in either of his other hotels comes at a perfect time.”
If his sister wanted to leave Denver for a while, Garrett wouldn’t stop her. But he hoped she made the decision for the right reasons. “Have you prayed about this?”
A little of her old self reared in her impatient snort. “Give me some credit, would you? I’ve done it without ceasing.”
“And you think moving away is the answer?”
She glanced at her boss again, released a soft breath. “I do.”
Garrett could present several arguments to deter his sister from leaving town, but he knew that would only serve to push her away quicker. If Fanny wanted to leave town, she would find a way. Either with his support…or without.
“I’ll miss you,” he said.
She laughed at that. “Oh, I think you’ll find some way to fill the void in my absence. Or should I say someone.” She hitched her chin at Molly. “You two seem to be getting closer.”
He caught Molly’s eye.
She winked at him. His blood scrambled through his veins. “We’re definitely getting closer,” he said.
“I’m glad. Oh, Garrett, I’m so very glad you’re friends again.”
“Make no mistake, Fanny. Molly’s not simply my friend.” He winked back at her, smiled at the answering blush that spread across her cheeks. “She’s my soul mate.”
Chapter Seventeen
The day of the charity ball blew in on the heels of a cold, westerly wind canopied beneath dingy gray clouds. Despite the dismal weather, and the threat of snow, Molly woke with a heart full of joy.
She’d never felt more vital, more alive. And this renewed confidence wasn’t solely due to putting together a grand party. No question, Garrett was pursuing her. Whether his efforts were pretend or real—and she was beginning to believe the latter—she’d never felt more cherished or more beautiful in the sight of a man.
As was true most mornings this week, he was scheduled to meet with Mrs. Singletary at ten o’clock sharp. Knowing Garrett’s penchant for punctuality, Molly positioned herself in the foyer two minutes prior to his arrival time.
At the same moment the clocks began chiming the hour, Garrett strode through the entryway. He greeted her with a brief kiss to her cheek. “Good morning, my love.”
“Good morning, Garrett.”
He didn’t linger, didn’t try to turn the innocent greeting into something more romantic. But he didn’t wait until they were alone to demonstration his affection for her, either.
He’d walked straight up to her and presented the chaste kiss right in front of Winston.
Garrett’s casual, open display of affection spoke of long-term familiarity between them, while the flicker of tenderness in his eyes told anyone who cared to look that he adored her. Another kiss to her cheek, a promise to see her later, and he headed up the stairs to the widow’s private office. Sighing breathlessly, she watched him move with that confident, long-legged effortlessness she’d always admired. At the top of the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled down at her.
Her heart dipped to her toes.
Containing the rest of her response until he disappeared around the corner, Molly placed her hand on her throat and collapsed in a nearby chair.
Oh, my.
The way Garrett had looked at her just now it was, well, it was quite wonderful.
The adoration in his eyes reminded her of another time, another day and something…else.
She dug through her memory, came up blank.
Her gaze tracked through the foyer, landing nowhere in particular, sliding over the painting of Mr. and Mrs. Singletary.
The painting.
Of course.
She hurried across the marble floor. Rising onto her toes, all but touching her nose to the painted image, she squinted at the truth staring back at her.
Garrett had looked at her just now in the very same way Mr. Singletary smiled down at his wife in the portrait. I
t had been love in Garrett’s eyes.
He loved her.
She’d been too scared to understand, too hesitant to see what had been in front of her all along. Nothing had changed in seven years. If anything his feelings for her seemed to have grown stronger, as hers had matured for him.
The Lord had blessed them with a rare second chance.
But, oh, how they’d wasted so much time.
She’d wasted so much time.
Instead of trusting that the Lord was in control, instead of believing that He had a bigger plan for her life, Molly had taken matters into her own hands.
Would she ever be able to overcome the mistakes of her past? Would she ever be able to forgive herself for not waiting for the only man she’d ever truly loved?
She was spared from answering the disturbing questions when the doorbell chimed. Happy for the distraction, she waved off Winston and went to open the door herself.
“Johnny.” A smile lit her face.
He grinned back at her. “We have to quit meeting like this.”
She laughed. “You’re here to see Mrs. Singletary.”
Although she hadn’t posed it as a question, he nodded in answer. “I have an appointment with the widow and her attorney, Mr. Mitchell.”
“I’ll take you up.” She started through the foyer.
Johnny fell in step beside her.
Smiling up at him, she looped her arm through his. “I can’t believe you’re back in Denver.”
“I should have returned long before now.”
On the surface, his answer sounded nostalgic. But there was more to the story. When Johnny had left town he’d been a penniless orphan with a bad attitude and a large chip on his shoulder. He was now a wealthy, successful businessman who’d created his own hotel empire. There were a lot of missing years in between.
“I seem to remember you making a solemn vow never to return.”
He didn’t exactly cringe, but he definitely looked uncomfortable at the reminder. “At the time, I meant every word.”
Searching her memory, she tried to recall his final days in town. She’d been young, but not so young she hadn’t sensed something terrible had driven him away. Her father had just taken over as county sheriff and had hauled him into jail for…something.
She couldn’t remember what he’d done, or maybe she’d never known. What she did remember was Johnny’s attitude toward everyone who cared about him, God most of all. “You were pretty angry the last time I saw you.”
“I hated the world.”
“What changed?”
“Me.” She heard so much in that one word. Regret, resignation. Pain.
She stopped on the stairs and turned to face him. “Whatever brought you back, I’m really glad you’re home.”
“Me, too.” He angled his head and studied her a moment, his eyes full of admiration. “You look the same, Molly, still so pretty, your features nearly as perfect as a porcelain doll. But you’ve changed, too.”
“I’ve grown up.”
“It’s not that.” He continued to study her, his eyes narrowing over her face. Then he touched her cheek. “You seem happy, but I sense an underlying sadness.”
He’d always been perceptive, always saw too much. They had that in common, a skill that had been learned from the unstable years in their childhood when the future held only uncertainty. “No, I’m not sad. Not anymore.”
She was healing. At last. Time and prayer had started the process. Turning to the Lord had helped as well, as had her position with Mrs. Singletary.
And then, there was Garrett.
His reentry into her life was turning into the greatest blessing of all. She was determined to put the past behind them, and reach for the future. A future she hoped to share with her one true soul mate.
But if Garrett walked away a second time, how would she ever survive? Could she really trust he was being sincere? Did she have the courage to take a leap of faith, or would she let her past stand in their way?
A jolt of fear stole her breath.
“Anyone you want me to beat up for you, Peanut? Just say the word and he’s pulp.”
She laughed, her mood instantly lighter. “I thought you were a changed man.”
“I don’t lead with my fists anymore. But if anyone hurt you—” his eyes turned dark “—I’d reconsider.”
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “My very own big brother.”
“Always.”
Eight years older, Johnny had always been protective of her. Not just of her, but of all the kids at Charity House. She’d been ten years old when he’d left town. She remembered crying for days.
“Come on.” She took his arm and pulled him along with her. “Mrs. Singletary is waiting.”
They stopped in front of the shut door. Before Molly knocked, she swiveled her head to look at him again. “I forgot to ask if you’ve been out to Charity House since returning home.”
“Twice.” A distant look filled his gaze, something a little frustrated and…bitter? No, that couldn’t be right.
“They’ve made a lot of improvements since you’ve been gone,” she said. “God has blessed Charity House beyond imagining.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “So it would seem.”
What was that odd note she heard in his voice? Suspicion? Resentment?
She touched his arm, nearly asked him what was wrong then decided against it. Now that he was in Denver again, there would be plenty of opportunities for serious conversations. “It really is good to have you home.”
“Thanks, Molly.” He gave her the crooked smile she remembered so well. “I think I needed to hear that.”
Looking slightly embarrassed he’d admitted such a thing, he broke eye contact, lifted his hand and knocked on the door. At the command to enter he turned the handle and walked inside the room.
He didn’t look back.
She was only slightly hurt by the silent dismissal.
Her mind full of last-minute details she had to address before tonight, she turned to go. She was hurrying down the hallway when the door swung open again. She looked over her shoulder in time to see Garrett step out and make his way toward her.
It wasn’t until he was right beside her that she noted the look in his eyes. Something had upset him. “Garrett? What’s wrong?”
“Mrs. Singletary has asked me to finish drawing up an important contract before the ball tonight.”
Not sure why that upset him, she angled her head and waited for him to explain.
“I could possibly be late in my arrival.”
“Oh.”
He stepped closer, towering over her. “I don’t want to be late, not tonight.”
She had to tilt her head to see into his eyes. He was truly upset over this turn of events.
How…sweet.
“It’s all right, Garrett. I’ll probably be too busy to partake in the festivities anyway.”
He ignored this. “With our family and friends assembled in one room, I thought tonight would be the perfect opportunity for us to take our courtship to the next level.”
Her stomach fluttered. He looked so determined, so steadfast, as if he was about to make a very important declaration. Was he planning to proclaim his love for her? Here? Now?
She wasn’t sure she was ready.
A little thread of panic wove through her joy, enough to have her stepping back. She was suddenly worried he might still be playing a role. She was equally worried he was not.
She hated this uncertainty.
“You mean our pretend courtship,” she clarified.
“No, Molly. I mean our courtship. No more pretense, no more make-believe, I want us to—”
“Mr. Mitchell? Ah, there you are.” Mrs. Singletary leaned her head in the hallway. “We need your assistance over a particular matter in the contract.”
“I’ll be right there.” He continued staring down at Molly. Gaze intense, he caught a wisp of her hair between his fingers. “Yo
ur first dance is mine.”
“No one else’s.”
* * *
According to the invitation Molly had sent to one hundred of Mrs. Singletary’s closest friends and business associations, the ball was to begin promptly at seven o’clock. That gave Molly precisely one hour to address any last-minute glitches that may have arisen since she’d come upstairs to dress.
Working quickly, she stabbed the last pin into her hair and stepped toward the full-length mirror to eye her handiwork.
“I suppose you’ll do,” she said to her reflection. Pale, shimmering moonlight streamed through the window, spreading fingers of silver over her dress.
She glanced out the window; thankfully the clouds had disappeared hours ago, taking the snow with them.
“Are you ready, dear?” The widow came up from behind her, her exquisite face appearing in the reflection beside Molly’s.
“Oh, Mrs. Singletary, look at you.” She spun around. “You’re beautiful.”
The widow wore an emerald gown made from the finest silk imported from Paris. The gold trim captured the light and highlighted her pale green eyes and caramel-colored hair. An intricately designed diamond necklace added a touch of elegance to the already splendid picture.
“And you, my dear, dear girl are absolutely gorgeous.” The widow stepped back and studied Molly, her gaze running from her head down to her toes and back again. “That color suits you perfectly.”
Molly smoothed her hand over the crimson bodice, then flattened her palm against her nervous stomach. “I feared red might be too much. But you were right, as always. The bold color makes a statement.”
“You simply glow, Molly. And I don’t think it’s due solely to the color of your dress.”
“I’m happy,” Molly admitted.
“Your Mr. Mitchell has been very attentive these past few weeks.”
Her Mr. Mitchell. Yes, Garrett was hers. Completely, irrevocably hers. “He’s been wonderful.”
If only she had the courage to take the final step and tell him she loved him still, always, forever.
In unison, the clocks began their incessant chiming. Molly shut her eyes and counted off the hours in her head. Six. “I better get downstairs. I must make sure the flower arrangements I put together make it to the buffet table.”
