Sweet Nothings

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Sweet Nothings Page 21

by Catherine Anderson


  Rationally, Jake knew it had happened way too fast and probably made little sense. Love and marriage weren’t things an intelligent man jumped into. It was only smart to wait, to test the waters. Only somehow that didn’t seem smart at all with Molly. She was running from the law. He couldn’t shake the feeling that time was short and might soon run out, that he might forever lose his chance with her if he didn’t move quickly.

  He couldn’t let her slip through his fingers. He was damned near thirty-three. He’d been waiting for the right lady to come along ever since he’d grown mature enough to realize that love and sex were two entirely different things. If he didn’t snatch her up while he had the chance, what were the odds that he’d ever meet anyone like her again?

  That night, after cooking a meal under Jake’s direction that was, in Molly’s opinion, large enough to feed and clog the arteries of half the population of Crystal Falls, she set herself to the task of cleaning the kitchen. As always, Jake rolled up his sleeves to help. He took his usual position at the sink to wash while she dried.

  “I’ve gotten the impression that the men you’ve known weren’t much for helping with domestic tasks,” he said.

  She put a dinner plate in the cupboard. “My dad always helped in the kitchen on Cook’s night off.”

  “Ah, so you had a cook, did you?”

  Molly shot him a wary look. She glimpsed a twinkle in his eyes before he returned his attention to the pot he was scrubbing. “You have a cook,” she pointed out.

  “I also have a ranch and a lot of extra mouths to feed, which makes it a necessity rather than a luxury. We both know your father didn’t own a cattle ranch. I’ll venture a guess you’ve never been on a ranch or farm before in your life.”

  Molly’s cheeks burned with embarrassment over all the lies and half-truths she’d told him. Now that he was calling her on it, she couldn’t think what to say. “I’m sorry, Jake,” she murmured.

  “For what?”

  “For lying to you. I can only say I don’t make a habit of it.”

  He smiled. “You’ve only done what you felt you had to.”

  Molly couldn’t think what to say. She drew a skillet from the drainer.

  “So,” he mused aloud, “if you had a cook while you were growing up, your father must have been wealthy then?”

  “Well off. He wasn’t a billionaire or anything.”

  “That leaves a lot of room for supposition. A millionaire, then?”

  Molly’s pulse escalated, and her fingers grew stiff and clumsy. She tightened her grip on the skillet handle. If she answered that question, Jake would be one step closer to learning her true identity. There weren’t that many millionaires in Oregon, and she’d narrowed the search down considerably by telling him that she’d worked at an investment firm. She cast him an uneasy glance. She guessed it all boiled down to whether or not she trusted him.

  Only it wasn’t that simple. While she had come to trust that Jake would never deliberately hurt her, he was operating under a cloud of ignorance she didn’t dare dispel. Her freedom and Sunset’s future hung in the balance. So did her need to seek justice for her father’s death. How might he react if she told him she was recently released from a mental ward and was still supposed to be under a doctor’s care?

  Under other circumstances, she might have taken a calculated risk and told him everything. But she wasn’t like other women. Until a judge rapped his gavel and said otherwise, she was vulnerable in a way that terrified her. She’d been married to Rodney when she’d been deemed legally incompetent, and he had been appointed her guardian by the court. Because of the firm and all the related business entanglements, Rodney’s attorney had been able to keep much of the arrangement status quo after the divorce, arguing that Rodney and Molly’s financial future and all their marital assets hung in the balance. She’d still been at the clinic then. What judge worth his salt granted a mental ward patient the right to handle her own affairs when millions of dollars and the future of a financial empire were at stake?

  As a result, Rodney might no longer be her husband, but he still had power over her. It was Rodney who had doled out money to her each month from the firm’s coffers, Rodney who still had access to all those accounts, Rodney who could hire all the big-shot attorneys. She couldn’t even scrape up a retainer fee, and if she managed, what lawyer in his right mind would take her on? There were the liability factors no attorney in his right mind could ignore. Representing a legally incompetent individual gave rise to a host of difficulties and possible legal infractions they preferred to avoid.

  What had happened once could happen again, and if Molly forgot that, even for an instant, her fate would be sealed. The very thought filled her with cold fear. Rodney hated Sam Banks, the doctor who’d become her champion. If her ex-husband and mother had her committed again, it was highly unlikely that they would put her back in a clinic where she already had an ally. Oh, no. She’d be handed over to strangers, individuals who’d be predisposed to disbelieve everything she said.

  After her release from the clinic, she’d tried once to get a restraining order against Rodney, and all she’d earned for her trouble was a pat on the arm. In short, crazy people weren’t taken seriously, and nothing she’d said had carried any weight with the police. Harrassment? Stalking? Legally, she didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  Jake had no idea what a tangle her life was in. All it would take was for him to grow curious and make a few phone calls to the wrong people. If word of his inquiries filtered back to Rodney, she might be tracked down. It was anyone’s guess what might happen then. It certainly wouldn’t be pleasant.

  “Okay,” he said with a laugh when her reluctance to answer became obvious. “I guess that wasn’t a fair question. Let’s move on from there. So your dad helped in the kitchen on Cook’s night off. Is that what you called her, Cook?”

  “How do you know Cook wasn’t a man?”

  He laughed again and flicked suds at her. “I’m a redneck cowboy. I think the ERA is a real estate company. Don’t burst my bubble.”

  She smiled in spite of herself. Jake was as far from being a male chauvinist as any man could get. “Yes, we called her Cook.”

  “How was Rodney for helping in the kitchen?”

  “He didn’t.”

  “Never?”

  “Never. That was woman’s work, amen.”

  Jake grinned and winked at her. “Like I said, a pissant.”

  A few minutes later, Jake was walking her home. As he’d taken to doing quite frequently, he detoured toward the creek. Molly almost gave in to the urge to simply follow along. Then she thought better of it and drew to a stop.

  “I think I’ll forgo the walk tonight.”

  He swung around to look at her questioningly. In the moonlight, he looked so tall and sturdy and handsome that Molly stood her ground with some regret. It was so tempting to bid common sense good-bye and grab this opportunity with both hands.

  “Coward,” he said softy.

  She didn’t prevaricate. “Yes, I’m afraid so.” She scrunched her shoulders and hugged her parka closer, feeling suddenly cold. “I told you last night, Jake. I’m very attracted to you. In return, you issued a warning, if you’ll recall. I’m just heeding it.”

  The brim of his hat cast a shadow over his face. It was testimony to the brilliance of his blue eyes that they gleamed at her through the gloom. “You afraid I’ll kiss you?”

  “And more.”

  He stood on a slight slope, one boot at a slightly higher level than the other, his long, denim-sheathed leg bent. Placing his hands on his hips, he regarded her as though she were a complicated puzzle. “Molly, nothing will ever happen between us that you don’t want to happen. You do know that, I hope.”

  “Yes, well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? We don’t always want what’s good for us.” She bent her head. “I’ve done a lot of thinking today, Jake. I’m not confident in my ability to tell you no a second time.”

 
“That’s good to hear.”

  She laughed and then groaned, her gaze returning to his dark face. “I’m not interested in a steamy interlude. I’m sorry. I know it’s not a contemporary attitude. But I’m not the type to engage in casual sex and emerge from the experience whole.”

  “I never thought you were, and casual sex isn’t what I have in mind. There’s nothing casual about my feelings for you.”

  She had to smile. “I suppose it all boils down to one’s definition of casual. I understand that a lot of people nowadays have what they call meaningful relationships outside of marriage with individuals they care about, but that’s just not how I’m made.” She shrugged and swallowed. “I’m not real sure about a lot of things right now, but I do know that much about myself. I’m an all or nothing kind of person. If I give my body to a man, my heart will be part of the package. I suppose it’s a silly way to think, but we can’t change our stripes.”

  “Do you see me laughing? I think it’s a charming way to be.”

  “Yes, well, women who take these things less seriously have a lot more fun, I’m sure. I wish I were more like that.” She dragged in a bracing breath. “If I thought for a minute that I could have an affair with you and watch you walk away later without it breaking my heart, I’d do it in a blink. But I’d get hurt, sure as the world, because I’d fall in love with you. I know I would. That being the case, I’m going to be a smart girl and say good night.”

  She turned to walk away. She only got two steps when his softly spoken, “Molly,” jerked her to a halt. She looked back at him over her shoulder.

  “Don’t go.” He hadn’t moved, but even in the semi-darkness, she could feel the pull of his gaze. “Are you wanting a ring and promises? Is that it? If so, I’ll happily give them to you.”

  “Oh, Jake,” she whispered, so touched by the offer she wanted to weep.

  “I’m falling in love with you. I’d marry you in a heartbeat. If you think I’m bluffing, try me.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “Marriage isn’t the answer for me, either. Aren’t I a mess?” She dug her heel in the dirt. “Lucky for you. You haven’t known me long enough to make a commitment like that.”

  “I know you as well as I need to.” Absolute certainty rang in his voice. “You’re a wonderful person, Molly. I knew that the second I saw you.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Seriously. There you stood, no bigger than a minute, with that horse trailer rocking behind you and lifting the tires of your Toyota off the ground. I thought, ‘There’s a lady with a heart twice as big as she is.’ And guess what? You haven’t proved me wrong since. There isn’t a male on the ranch who isn’t a little bit in love with you, poor old Bart included. I’m just a whole lot more in love with you than the others.”

  She fixed her gaze on the tree line at the far side of the creek where pine boughs were etched in silhouette against a dark-blue velvet sky. She fancied them to be dancers, poised in a graceful ballet, the stars forming the diamonds in their delicate coronets. “I don’t want any more entanglements. I’m free for the first time in ten years, Jake, and I’d like to stay that way. There are so many things I want to do. You know?” She thought of her stalled career and lost dreams. Some of those dreams could never be recaptured, she knew, but others might still be possible. More important, she needed to seek justice for her father’s death so she could finally lay him to rest. “There are things I have to do. I know you don’t understand. I wish I were free to explain. Just know that there are unresolved issues in my life, and I’ll never be able to make a commitment to you or anyone until they’re settled to my satisfaction.”

  “Let me help you then. Marriage is a partnership, honey, not a prison.”

  “Maybe not for a man, maybe not for most women, but it was for me.”

  “It won’t be that way again.”

  “Yes. At least it could. Down deep, parts of the Molly I used to be still exist. I was a devout Catholic. I’ll bet you never guessed that.”

  “I’ve got nothing against Catholics.”

  “You’re missing the point. I didn’t believe in divorce. I was trapped in a marriage that was a nightmare with a man who took advantage of my sacramental bondage at every turn. I’ll never sucker in for that again.”

  “Sacramental bondage,” he repeated. “That’s heavy.”

  Molly doubted he had any idea just how heavy. “Like being buried alive under a thousand pounds of ice.”

  He moved slowly up the bank. “I’d never infringe on your personal freedoms, Molly.”

  “You’ll never get a chance,” she said lightly.

  They fell into a slow walk together. He shoved his hands deeply into his jeans pockets. “So where does this leave us?”

  “With friendship. If you touch me again with anything more than that in mind, I won’t be here when you wake up the next morning. I’ll leave your watch on the table, and as soon as I find work of some kind, I’ll send you all the money I can to cover Sunset’s expenses. But you’ll never see me again.”

  “You don’t leave a man much negotiating room,” he said with a dry laugh.

  “I don’t intend to. This isn’t negotiable.”

  “I don’t want you to go away, Molly.”

  “You’ve heard my terms.”

  He drew to a stop, tugged his hands from his pockets to rest them at his hips, and leveled a look at her that made her heart do a funny little skip inside her chest. “And here are mine,” he said softly. “I’ll honor your stipulations—for a time. There’s not a damned thing wrong with being good friends before we become lovers. I’ve got no quarrel with that. Just understand that I want more, and the day will come when I’ll press you for more.”

  “When you do, I’ll leave.”

  He flashed her a slow grin that turned the skip of her heart into leaps and somersaults. “We’ll see.”

  “I’ll never give another man control over my life.”

  He shrugged, looking totally unruffled by the proclamation. “Fine by me. I don’t want control. I see marriage as a fifty-fifty proposition. My wife will be my partner, not a possession.”

  “That’s what they all say until the ink dries on the marriage certificate.”

  He chuckled. “Now that is an archaic outlook. Have you checked the calendar lately?”

  Molly shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and made tight fists. “Once burned, twice shy.”

  “I can see I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

  Molly sighed. “Have you heard anything I’ve said? All I’m interested in is friendship.”

  His teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he flashed her another grin. “As long as that’s all you’re interested in, that’s all you’ll get. That doesn’t stop me from trying to convince you otherwise.” As if he read her feelings in her expression, he quickly added, “In a completely hands-off way, of course. I’ll never touch you unless you want me to.”

  Molly relaxed slightly. She could keep her head around him as long as he didn’t kiss her or anything. No matter how much she might sometimes wish he would, that would be her secret. “Fine. Then we have a clear understanding?”

  His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Crystal clear.”

  Why was it she had a feeling he found this entire situation vastly amusing?

  He thrust out his hand to her. “That said, how about if we shake on it to seal our agreement?”

  Molly was no longer totally sure what their agreement was. Nevertheless, she drew one hand from her pocket to place it across his broad palm. His long fingers closed around hers. His thumb traced light circles over the back of her wrist, sending little shocks of awareness up her arm.

  “Fine, then,” she said stupidly.

  His grin broadened. “Now that we have that settled, will you come for a walk with me?”

  He was still caressing her wrist. That didn’t exactly strike her as being a good omen. Did he know how his touch tied her insides into knots? She had an awful
feeling he did.

  “Come on,” he cajoled huskily. “Take a walk with me. You still trust me, don’t you?”

  Molly swallowed, her throat feeling suddenly dry and sticky. She did trust him. Excluding her father, she trusted him more than she’d ever trusted any man. On the other hand …

  “I just agreed to your terms,” he reminded her. “Friendship only. What can possibly happen?”

  “Nothing, I don’t suppose.” She dragged in a breath for courage and nodded. “All right. Sure. Why not?”

  Never releasing her hand, he turned and tucked it over the bend of his other arm. Then he began leading her back toward the creek. As Molly walked beside him, she found herself remembering a nursery rhyme from childhood.

  Welcome to my parlor said the spider to the fly.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Over the next few days, Molly began to feel as if Jake were spinning a magical web and luring her ever deeper into its silken bonds. It was as if he sensed the emptiness within her and had set himself to the task of filling her up with a daily measure of beauty.

  Practically every morning as she left the cabin, she found a gift lying on her doorstep. One morning, it might be a pretty rock or a feather from a wild bird. Another, she would find flowers. One morning, he left her a posy of spring clover blossoms, and for some reason, that was her favorite surprise of all, representative of all Jake Coulter was and everything he stood for, a man as earthy and elemental as this land from which he had sprung.

  His habit of leaving her silly gifts reminded her so much of her father, leading her to begin assessing him in other ways and measuring him against Marshal Sterling. Jake looked nothing like her dad. As far as their mannerisms went, the two men were light years apart. But there were other similarities Molly couldn’t deny, traits that ran deep and true, making them stand apart from all the rest of the men she knew.

 

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