Finally A Bride

by Renee Ryan

  “Before you go…” Mrs. Singletary reached into a pocket in her skirt and pulled out a ruby pendant hanging from a thick, gold chain. “I want you to have this.”

  Molly gasped. The large gemstone was the size of her thumbnail and had to be worth a small fortune, the gold equally valuable. “I couldn’t possibly accept such a generous gift.”

  “Of course you can. Think of it as a token of my appreciation for all you did to put this party together.”

  Molly was shaking her head before the widow could say anything more. “I was only performing my duties.”

  “Duties you were not hired for. Now, stop arguing and accept this gift with the grace I’ve come to expect from you.”

  How was Molly supposed to argue with that without appearing ungrateful?

  Taking her silence as acceptance, Mrs. Singletary walked behind her and draped the pendant around her neck. A bit of fumbling and the closure snapped into place.

  “There. Have a look.”

  Heart in her throat, Molly turned to face the mirror. She covered the ruby with trembling fingertips. “It’s lovely.”

  “It’s perfect,” the older woman declared. “Now you may go downstairs.”

  “Not before I do this.” With quiet abandon, Molly kissed her employer on the cheek. “Thank you, Mrs. Singletary. Thank you for the necklace, for believing in me, for…for…”

  How did she put into words the depth of her gratitude for all this blessed woman had done? The widow had given her both a job and a purpose when she was at her lowest. She’d even smoothed the way for Garrett to come back into Molly’s life again. “Thank you for…everything.”

  “You’re quite welcome. Now go away before you make me cry.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Singletary.” With her own tears threatening, Molly hurried out of her room.

  * * *

  Heart full, emotions brimming over, Beatrix watched her sweet companion rush down the hallway, her slipper-clad feet light as air. She would have to say farewell to the girl soon. For all his organization and attention to detail, Garrett Mitchell was not a patient man.

  He’d be asking Molly to marry him soon.

  Perhaps even tonight.

  What a splendid, validating thought.

  With the Lord as their guide and their love for one another binding them together, they’d have a strong, happy marriage.

  Oh, but Beatrix would miss Molly dreadfully.

  The thought made her sigh. A bit overwhelmed, she sank to the edge of the bed and looked around the room.

  Molly was everywhere, having made the space her own almost from the start. She’d chosen the wallpaper herself, the floral pattern a perfect complement to her personality. The design was both bold and sweet, impossible to ignore yet warm and welcoming.

  Beatrix would have a hard time replacing Molly. Another pang sliced through her heart. The girl had left her mark not only in this room, but on Beatrix, too.

  Lady Macbeth sauntered into the room, her narrowed feline gaze full of accusation. Too much activity below stairs and a change in her nightly routine had put the cat in a foul mood. Yet instead of pouting, she’d come in search of Beatrix.

  “Ah, my pet, you always manage to find me when I need you most.”

  The cat jumped on the bed and collapsed beside her. With a heartfelt sigh, she bumped her head against Beatrix’s open palm.

  “Cheer up,” she said, scratching the cat’s silky head. “We’ll be planning a wedding soon.”

  The cat purred in response.

  Beatrix smiled.

  “As much as I enjoy your company, I need to head downstairs myself.” She stood, brushed off her hands and rolled her shoulders. “It’s time to finish what we started.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The majority of party guests arrived on time, much to Molly’s relief. Within an hour, a hundred voices clamored for supremacy, each trying to be heard above the loud din.

  Although she thought she’d grown used to the opulence of Mrs. Singletary’s home, she was still struck by the beauty before her now. Standing just inside the ballroom, cloaked in the shadows behind a candelabrum, she watched the festive scene.

  Her decision to stick to a simple color pallet of silver and gold was a good one. The elegant decorations, abundant with greenery and simple flowers, were a perfect accompaniment to the long row of crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling.

  The candlelight she’d insisted upon provided an old-world feel. An added touch of glamour came from the guests themselves. The ladies wore lavish, colorful ball gowns. The men were clad in formal black and white.

  Smiling to herself, Molly scanned faces, seeing many dear friends both old and new. Garrett had not yet arrived, though every member of his family was already in attendance. Everyone, that was, except Fanny. She’d left for Chicago early this morning.

  Molly sighed.

  She would miss her friend.

  She sighed again, wishing Garrett was here to share this moment with her. He’d warned her he might be late; nevertheless she felt the disappointment of his absence.

  Ducking out of the ballroom unnoticed, she made her way to the dining room and the overflowing buffet tables. The hordes of guests partaking in the plentiful fare appeared sufficiently satisfied with the variety of offerings.

  Smiling, Molly continued surveying her handiwork throughout the house. She paused periodically to speak with friends and acquaintances along the way. When she entered the foyer, she told herself she was merely checking to ensure the flow of arriving guests was moving at a steady pace.

  But that wasn’t precisely true. She really wanted to be near the door when Garrett arrived.

  The couple hovering in the entryway caught her notice. For a moment, Molly simply stared at them. They were both so beautiful, the handsome man and his lovely wife. The woman was dressed in a midnight-blue gown that highlighted the rich, pale color of her eyes. Her entire being glowed as she smiled up at her husband.

  Dressed in formal attire, gone was the bad-to-the-bone lawman’s glower. In its place was a tender expression Molly had seen him bestow on his wife countless times through the years. She never tired of watching the two interact. Tonight was no exception. Trey and Katherine Scott were as deeply in love today as they’d been seventeen years ago when they first gave in to their feelings for one another.

  Molly had been five at the time, and had just moved into Charity House to live with her sister. She’d like to think she’d had a hand in their romance. After all, she’d specifically chosen Trey for her older sister, and he’d happily fallen in line.

  Perhaps she wasn’t remembering that correctly. She didn’t much care, they were her family now. The only parents she’d ever truly known. She loved them to distraction, admired them immensely and desperately wanted what they had—a happy, faithful marriage filled with laughter, joy and steadfast support.

  Her father saw her first.

  The smile that spread across his face was full of love and affection. He whispered something in his wife’s ear. Her head shot up and her gaze fixed on Molly.

  If she’d ever doubted her parents’ love for her, evidence to the contrary radiated back at her now.

  She hurried to greet them.

  “Oh, Molly.” Her mother pulled her into a warm embrace. “You’ve done a lovely job with the party. I see a little of you in every detail.”

  Reveling in the compliment, she hung on to her mother for several moments, uncaring that her gown was being crushed in the process.

  As soon as they separated, her father clamped his hands on her shoulders and turned her so he could study her face. “You look beautiful, kitten.”

  The endearment brought her back to her childhood, when life had been easy, her future finally secure after being shuffled from one broken-down hovel after another. This man, this woman, together they’d rescued Molly from a tragic life and had provided her a safe, loving home in which to thrive.

  “You look happy, too,
” her mother added.

  Throat burning, eyes stinging, her response was a little shaky. “I am happy. Very happy.”

  He fill thy mouth with laughing, thy lips with rejoicing.

  Smiling now, her father released her shoulders and visibly relaxed. “You look like your old self, kitten.”

  “I feel like my old self.”

  “Praise God,” her mother said.

  Molly absolutely agreed. Praise God.

  “The dancing will commence any minute,” she told them, glancing from one to the other.

  Her father’s face scrunched into a frown. “I’d rather explore the food options first.”

  Molly laughed with Katherine. She kissed them both, lingered in her mother’s arms a moment beyond necessary, then sent them in the direction of the buffet tables.

  * * *

  Garrett caught sight of Molly immediately upon arriving at the ball. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw she was talking with her parents, and not one of her many suitors.

  Molly laughed at something her father said, then hugged her mother. She was so lovely Garrett’s breath hitched in his throat. The shock of her beauty never ceased to call forth a strong visceral response in him. He let it come, gave in to the sensations coming on top of one another as his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

  The gown she wore shimmered, taking on the same hue as the rich flames all around. Molly should always be bathed in candlelight, he decided. Delicate, fragile, with unexpected flares of fiery mischief lurking beneath the doll-like beauty.

  After all these years, she still dazzled him. Captivated him.

  Called to him.

  There was only one solution to these profound feelings threatening to overwhelm him. Secure her as his bride.

  Soon. Very soon.

  Perhaps even tonight.

  He took a step in her direction and nearly combusted when another man approached her first.

  * * *

  “Miss Scott. May I have the honor of escorting you into the ballroom?” Giles Thomas stood before her, hands hanging stiff by his side, gaze unbending.

  Molly tried not to wince. She’d lingered too long watching her parents depart the foyer. Now she was stuck.

  Forcing a pleasant smile on her face, she attempted to send Mr. Thomas on his way with as much grace as possible. “I’m afraid I am not yet ready to head in. I still have a few matters to address in the—”

  “I shall not be deterred.”

  No, she could see the truth of the sentiment in his narrow-eyed glower. It was not the most attractive look for him.

  Hoping to avoid a scene, she relented. Without further argument, she took his offered arm and allowed Mr. Thomas to lead her into the ballroom.

  Thankfully, the music hadn’t begun yet. She may still have time to separate herself from the man.

  “Will you dance the first dance with me?”

  Shielding her discomfort behind heavy lashes, she wondered at Mr. Thomas’s persistence. She’d never given him any encouragement, other than the kindness she afforded all her male acquaintances. “I have promised the first dance to Mr. Mitchell.”

  “The man you were with at the opera?”

  “The very same.”

  Mr. Thomas glared harder at this, then took her arm as if to lead her onto the dance floor despite her refusal. Or the fact that the music hadn’t started. “I suppose you believe I will retreat in the face of opposition, but no. I am more resolved than ever to win your affection, Miss Scott.”

  Shocked at such a forthright speech, and his surprisingly tight grip on her arm, she attempted to free herself from his grasp.

  She tugged too hard and promptly lost her footing.

  Strong, capable hands steadied her from behind, then carefully, gently, resolutely wrenched her away from Mr. Thomas’s hold.

  “If you wish to dance with Miss Scott, you are in for a large disappointment, my good man.” Garrett’s severe voice fell over their unhappy little group. “She has already promised to dance with me.”

  Oh, my.

  Garrett looked positively furious as he glared at the other man. Molly had never seen him this, this…formidable.

  Mr. Thomas eyed him just as coldly in return.

  Oh, my.

  Surely they wouldn’t come to blows over her.

  As if sensing her unease, Garrett took a slow, deep breath and visibly pulled himself together. “Forgive my tardiness. I am here now, ready to dance with the most striking woman in the room.”

  On cue, the orchestra began playing the melodic strains of a waltz. Even as Garrett reached to her, Mr. Thomas refused to concede. “I asked her first.”

  “Oh, honestly.” Lifting her chin, she scowled at the man. “I am not a toy to be fought over.”

  “Indeed, you are not.” Garrett’s mouth gentled and his gaze warmed. “You are, however, the belle of the ball.”

  She felt her cheeks flood with color at the appreciative look in his eyes.

  “You were born to wear bold colors,” he continued. “That particular shade of red is a favorite of mine.”

  Smiling debonairly now, the rascal was suddenly full of charm and perfect manners and tender affection, when mere moments before he’d appeared more than ready to engage in fisticuffs with Mr. Thomas.

  “Molly.” His entire demeanor softened even more. “Please forgive my previous boorish behavior.”

  “Oh, Garrett.” Her heart melted and the rest of the room disappeared.

  He reached out his hand. “Dance with me, my love.”

  My love. The endearment whispered across her cheek like a caress. My love.

  “I would like nothing better.”

  “Now, see here,” Mr. Thomas sputtered in outrage, his voice taking on a churlish note. “You cannot swoop in at the last minute and steal Miss Scott away like this.”

  Having forgotten that she and Garrett still had an audience, a rather irate audience at that, Molly bit back a sigh. “Not to worry, Mr. Thomas. I will dance the next waltz with you.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Garrett muttered, twirling her onto the dance floor without further delay.

  They fell into the steps of the waltz as if they’d danced it a thousand times together, when there’d been no such opportunity to do so in the past.

  This was their first dance ever.

  A sense of rightness filling her, Molly settled into Garrett’s embrace. This was where she’d always belonged. “What with the unpleasantness before, I failed to greet you properly.” He gently stroked her cheek, seemingly uncaring they were in front of half of Denver. “Good evening, Molly.”

  “Good evening, Garrett.”

  “You’ve done an excellent job with the details of this ball. Beautiful,” he whispered. “Beyond compare.”

  She felt her cheeks grow warm again. He was speaking of her, not the decorations. “I took your advice and applied one of my formulas.”

  “I’m proud of you.” His words were spoken with infinite confidence, but she could feel the tension in the muscled shoulder beneath her hand.

  Why was he on edge? “Garrett—”

  “Molly—”

  They laughed and the tension in him disappeared.

  “Molly,” he began again, his tone unusually formal. “I wish to ask you something extremely important.”

  What sort of question could put such a serious look in his gaze?

  Nervous now, she almost lost track of the waltz steps. Recovering quickly, she forced a sweet smile onto her lips. “All right. Go ahead, then. Ask me whatever you like.”

  “Not here.” He glanced around them, seemingly only just becoming aware of the crowded dance floor. “Somewhere more private.”

  That sounded interesting.

  A flutter of anticipation shimmied through her as they turned as one to leave the dance floor.

  Pausing, Garrett looked around a moment. His gaze tracked to the doors leading into the garden and he started in that direction. “This way
.”

  They’d barely made it to the edge of the dance floor when her father swooped into view. “I believe this is my dance.”

  Molly’s eyes widened at the unprecedented request. “You want to dance with me?”

  “That’s what I said.” He nudged Garrett aside with nothing more than a look.

  Before Molly could take a breath, she was twirling once more across the dance floor in perfect, three-step rhythm.

  The sheriff was surprisingly light on his feet.

  “Where did you learn to dance so beautifully?” she asked, amazed at his skill.

  “I wasn’t always a lawman, kitten.” He gave her ear a tweak. “I learned how to dance nearly as early as I learned how to walk.”

  She remembered now. A member of the elite Southern gentry, her father had grown up in New Orleans before the War Between the States. Given the circumstances of his childhood, he probably had learned to dance at a very young age.

  Proving his expertise went beyond the basics, he spun her in an array of complicated steps that had her gasping for air and coming up laughing.

  “I’ve missed this,” she said.

  He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her meaning. “You haven’t laughed enough in the past year.”

  “No.”

  He changed directions, backpedaling once, twice, spinning her around again. “You were made for joy, kitten, it’s one of blessings the Lord has bestowed on you.”

  “I lost my way for a while, but I believe I’m finally back on the right path.”

  “I believe you are, too.”

  She cut a quick glance around the ballroom, caught Garrett’s eye and felt a sigh rustle up from her toes.

  He wore his evening attire with natural ease, looking as comfortable in the formal clothing as he did in rancher garb. Gilded by the light of a hundred candles, the aura of power and strength emanating out of him was as natural as his hair color. He looked exactly what he was, a successful attorney of godly character making a name for himself in his chosen profession.

  To Molly, he was simply Garrett. Her Garrett.

  The love of her life.

  “I’ve found where I belong,” she told her father, her gaze still locked with Garrett’s, as if she were speaking the truth of her heart to him directly.