She thought of the way Wyatt had run off once he was free of the sling. Not even a backward glance.
When they all abandoned her again, she’d take her satchel and all her worldly goods and ride to town to find work. Maybe, if she was in a good mood, she’d leave them a note.
Five
Where’s supper?” Wyatt came in dragging after his first day back in the saddle. He’d taken it easy. He sure hadn’t busted any broncs or thrown any cattle. But he’d ridden long hours and thrown in with his cowhands to herd cattle from one stretch of pasture to another.
He’d handed his horse’s reins to Jesse, one of their younger cowhands, and come straight in from the chilly night. The sun was setting early, and the wind had a mean bite to it. His shoulder ached like a wolf had sunk fangs into it.
And he was starving.
“Molly’s gone.” Kevin slapped the note hard against Wyatt’s chest. “I’m riding to town to find her and bring her back. Falcon’s out saddling the horses. I stayed behind when I saw you coming. What did you do to her?”
Wyatt noticed Kevin’s fist balled up tight and braced himself to take a punch to the jaw. “I didn’t do anything to her. What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything.” But Kevin’s fist relaxed and worry clouded his eyes. Almost like he thought maybe he had done something to her. Now Wyatt’s fist clenched.
“Both of you shut up.” Cheyenne shoved them apart.
Wyatt noticed Win stood behind Kevin with her hands clutched to her throat. A much more biddable kind of woman than Cheyenne. Wyatt would have said Molly was the biddable type, too, but then why’d she take off?
Wyatt’s eyes went to Kevin’s. “Did she say I did something to her?” He thought of waking up beside her. But that had been weeks ago. Nothing like that had ever happened again.
He’d thought of it though. Mercy, he’d thought of it a lot.
“Not in the note.” Kevin looked at the sheet of paper in his hand.
“I never had any kind of trouble with her. No harsh words.” Wyatt pulled the note away from Kevin and read it. “This says she’s going to find work. Ranch life doesn’t suit her. How could ranch life not suit someone?” Wyatt had trouble even imagining such a thing. There was no better way to live.
“It’s not like we made her help with branding.” Cheyenne stepped away, either figuring they’d passed on the fistfight or not caring if they went to slugging each other.
Win came up and caught Kevin’s arm. “It’s me. She’s gone because she doesn’t like that you got married. Or she just doesn’t like me and doesn’t want to have me in your family.”
Kevin looked down at her, his color high from his earlier temper with Wyatt, but suddenly he looked uncertain, sad. “I felt like things were better between us. She was upset I didn’t tell her I was getting married, but we’ve talked plenty since then.”
He swallowed hard. “But maybe we didn’t talk about important things. Maybe we just talked about day-to-day life. I thought things were good. I’ve never had any notion that she didn’t like you, Win. But I guess when something is important, I’ve talked to you instead of her. Molly and I always talked about everything. It’s not you who sent her off, it’s me.”
“No, she worked too hard doctoring me.” Wyatt looked at the terse note again. “I was impatient and cranky all the time. It was me.”
“We talked of being teachers.” Win looked at the note, her brow furrowed with worry. “I thought we had that in common. She even mentioned getting my old teacher’s job. But I told her they would’ve hired someone else by now. I thought all consideration of that was over and done. I should have known she wanted to leave here. It was me, Kevin.”
“Well, it wasn’t me. None of this is my fault.” Cheyenne gave the kitchen stove a mean look, like it was her enemy and she was in no mood to fight a war tonight.
Kevin took the note back and crushed it in his hand. “She should have told us. Talked to us about it. She shouldn’t have just run off like she did.”
He looked at Win again, frowning. “I should have talked to her about plans, about the future. I should have made sure she knew I wanted her to live with us when we get a house built. But we haven’t really talked about the future since . . . since . . .”
“Since you got married?” Win asked.
“Since I ran off and got married without talking to her, then mostly cut her out of my life since I got back.” He bent and kissed Win. “I love being married to you. My life seems so full, but to me that always included my sister and brother. Maybe she didn’t understand that.”
“She might have gone just ’cuz she thinks you’ve got a new family, Kevin,” Wyatt said, “and she wants to let you get on with your life. Andy’s working hard on the ranch. He doesn’t even eat with us in the house anymore. It might not be about liking or not liking anyone, she might just think it’s time she got on with her own life, and she doesn’t see that being here at the ranch.” Wyatt gave Cheyenne a nervous look.
“What?” she snapped. “You’ve thought of a way to blame this on me?”
“No, but it was this morning that you confirmed Pa probably wasn’t legally married to Ma. If it’s true, the will doesn’t stand. Which means Kevin doesn’t own any of it.”
“I told you I don’t want any part of a stolen ranch,” Kevin fumed.
“Yes, and Falcon said it, too, and I believe you. That’s real decent of you.” Wyatt tried to trace down all Cheyenne had told him. “You’re still my brothers, and you are welcome to have a home here on the RHR. But maybe Molly didn’t see herself as part of that. She has no blood relation to me and Cheyenne. This ranch isn’t in any way hers.”
“Yes, but she’s my family even if she’s not yours. Leaving has to be—”
“Maybe,” Cheyenne cut him off, “she just doesn’t like cooking and cleaning all day every day. I know I wouldn’t.” Cheyenne’s shoulders slumped as she trudged over to the stove. “She was a schoolmarm back in Kansas. Maybe she just quit a job that didn’t suit her to get one that did.”
Wyatt’s exhaustion slid away as worry and regret gave him new energy, pushing him to find Molly. “I’ll go with you to look for her, Kevin. If you and Molly haven’t talked about how she fits into your future, it’s a big part my fault because she’s been fetching and carrying for me all day long. I’ve been so useless with my arm bound.”
He circled his shoulder and winced. “She’s done so much to care for me, and I don’t know if she realizes how much I appreciated it.” Had he said thank you? Or had he complained about being more or less tied up for six weeks?
And blamed it on Molly and her doctoring, as if she’d shot him and broken his collarbone.
Kevin turned to Win. “You stay here. It’s cold.”
Wyatt turned to Cheyenne. “We can’t all go haring off and leave Win alone at home. It’s not safe. And you’re right. You’ve done nothing to be sorry for. It’s me that needs to go. Kevin may be part of it, but I reckon she mostly just got tired of me.” He thought of her warm and soft against him. “And she was too decent to leave until I was up and around.”
“She made the most delicious thing I’ve ever had for dessert today.” Cheyenne patted her stomach.
Wyatt thought of that custard. He guessed that’d be what they served for dessert in heaven. He could eat that for three meals a day, every day, for the rest of his life, though her fried chicken was the best he’d ever had, too. “We’ve got to get her back just so she can make more of that.”
“We told her thank you, real nice, when she served that.” Cheyenne looked at the tidy counter. “I wonder if there’s any of it left?”
“I think I remember licking out the pan,” Wyatt said with a shrug. The pain from that motion made him immediately regret the movement. “You and Win can get some supper on. We can eat fried eggs and biscuits. I hope to be back in an hour, even if we have to throw Molly over a saddle and cart her home like a felled elk.”
&nb
sp; Bear Claw Pass was a half-hour ride if they goaded their horses. So they’d really have to just grab her and run.
“Hey, get out here,” Falcon called from outside. He must have the horses ready.
Win grabbed Kevin’s wrist. “Maybe you should ride beside her on the way home and have a good long talk.”
Kevin nodded and kissed her.
Wyatt headed out, dreading Cheyenne’s cooking. Especially when she was in a bad mood. He should have told her they’d just eat bread and butter. Molly was ahead with the baking. Cheyenne seemed to cook at a full gallop with little care for charred edges and rare innards. Sometimes, after her more rushed meals, he felt like he had charred edges and rare innards.
Win was a decent cook. She wasn’t a patch on Molly, but she was decent. He hoped Win could manage Cheyenne and hog-tie a meal.
Six
Molly had a job.
They had hired a new schoolmarm after Win, but she’d worked through a six-week stretch of school and was already quitting to get married. It was hard keeping a teacher in a town with five men to every one woman. Or was it fifty to one?
Molly had gotten hired on the spot, and the school board had walked her over to Parson Brownley’s home.
Parson and Mrs. Brownley had acted delighted to have a new person to live with them. They seemed like lovely people.
She’d unpacked her satchel and washed thoroughly, and was out in time to help Ida Brownley with supper. She oughta make these two a custard. They’d be glad they’d had her come to stay.
The evening meal was a fine experience. Casual and friendly, not a gunshot victim to be seen anywhere.
The Brownleys were good company. Older but not elderly by any means. By the time they were done eating Ida’s tasty ham steaks with mashed turnips, Molly had learned all about their three grown children. Two sons and a daughter, all married with children of their own and moved away.
The two seemed interested in adding someone younger back into their household. Why, they looked willing to adopt her.
Molly was just preparing to insist on clearing the table and washing the dishes when someone knocked on the front door. All right, it was pounding. Someone was slamming the side of their fist into the wood.
“Mercy.” The parson rose quickly. “Someone must be badly in need of a parson.”
He rushed to the door and swung it open.
Wyatt stood there, glowering.
Molly’s stomach twisted. “I think they’re here for me, Parson.” Her voice rose so the Hunt brothers—all three of them—could hear her. “They must have doubts about allowing a self-supporting, intelligent, adult woman to make her own decisions and live her own life.”
Mrs. Brownley arched one brow at her. Molly had no doubt her tone wasn’t lost on Ida Brownley.
She saw Kevin looking worried. Probably because he had to leave his wife behind for more than ten minutes.
Falcon didn’t look overly upset.
Wyatt charged in, followed by the other Hunt brothers . . . but only one of them actually her real brother.
Molly slapped her napkin on the table. She hadn’t done anything wrong. “Are you three taking up brotherly outings now?”
Wyatt glowered like he had been since they opened the door. Kevin’s brow furrowed with worry. Falcon grinned at her.
She knew, even if they didn’t, that their protest was all out of guilt. They didn’t really want her underfoot. They were all just bound up by their sense of responsibility.
“Come and join us at the table.” Mrs. Brownley gestured. “Would you like some ham? I made quite a bit thinking of leftovers, but I’d be delighted to share it with you.”
The parson pulled two extra chairs up. It was crowded, but there was enough room. Kevin rounded the table and shoved a chair in beside Molly, while Falcon and Wyatt sat across from them, Wyatt straight across from Molly.
“We haven’t had supper, Mrs. Brownley.” Wyatt seemed to be very friendly with the couple. “I’d be mighty glad to have some of your fried ham. On Sunday, I’ll bring you in a couple of our older roosters for your stewpot.”
“That sounds wonderful. We’d appreciate that.”
Wyatt took a piece of tender, sliced ham from the serving platter. “I’ve had your fried ham at a church social, ma’am. It’s a wonder what you can do with a slice of pork.”
Mrs. Brownley pinked up nicely and passed a bowl still half full of turnips. The men started serving themselves as if . . . Molly scowled. As if she wasn’t there with a hot meal when they came in at night. As if she wasn’t there to wait on them hand and foot, and now they were starving and letting some other poor woman do it.
“It’s a wonder, really, Wyatt, that you didn’t starve to death before I arrived in Wyoming.”
“Now, Molly.” Kevin poured gravy over his turnips and ham. He near to drowned the whole plate. “We’re here to fetch you home. We—that is—I don’t want you to live away from us.”
“Neither do I,” Falcon said around a mouthful of cured pig.
“You’re coming home, and that’s that.” Wyatt went back to chewing. Maybe he’d come in scowling because he blamed her that he was hungry.
“We want you out at the RHR, and we feel like . . . like . . .” Kevin gave Wyatt a desperate glance.
Molly knew it might be best to have this talk strictly between Kevin and her. No one else needed to hear their business.
Parson Brownley said, “Sometimes when there is strife in a family, it can help to talk about it with another person present. A parson.”
“And his wife.” Ida Brownley gave Molly a pointed look. Neither one of them was budging. Almost like they knew she wanted them to leave.
“I have a job. I’m sure you were going to ask soon.”
“We heard the last schoolmarm got hitched.” Falcon kept chomping away. “But we can’t spare you. You’re keeping us alive, and you’re the best cook I ever heard tell of, and that’s sayin’ something because my first wife, Patsy, was a wonder with possum stew.”
Molly had never eaten possum, nor did she want to. But she tried to keep the disgust off her face. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Win is a good cook, and Cheyenne, well, she works so hard outside it stands to reason she wouldn’t have developed cooking skills, but you won’t starve.”
“No,” Falcon said, grinning. “But we might want to.”
Ida Brownley snatched up her pretty white cloth napkin and used it to cover her face. She tried to make it sound like she was coughing, but Molly was sure the woman was laughing.
“She’s your wife.” The parson was rubbing his mouth rather vigorously. “You might want to be more positive in your—your—comments about her cooking.”
“She’s the best wife a man ever had.” For the first time that evening, Falcon seemed upset. “Whether she’s a cook or not ain’t nuthin’ that I’d ever judge her on.”
The parson nodded, and Kevin went on. “We know you got hired, because we asked around town while we were looking for you, and we also learned that school doesn’t start until next Monday.”
“Looked high and low. Figured you’d been taken away by some outlaw.” Wyatt sounded grim.
“So please, Molly, please . . .” Kevin drew the word out for several seconds, “come home with us. We’d like your company until you start school.”
“We honestly want you back to stay,” Falcon said. “Can you make that custard again tomorrow?”
Molly balled up her napkin but refrained from throwing it at him. Falcon smirked, almost like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Wyatt added, “Your brother is asking nicely, but you are going home tonight.”
“I don’t like seeing you all pressuring her.” Mrs. Brownley lost all trace of humor.
Wyatt looked at Mrs. Brownley. “We all feel mighty bad that we weren’t kind enough to her so that now she wants to leave us. It’s me especially. I’ve been ailin’, and all the work doctoring me fell to her.”
He loo
ked across the table at Molly. “Did I ever thank you?”
Molly heard the guilt in his voice. Saw the sincerity in his eyes. She felt herself weakening, blast it all.
“I’ve been so impatient to be well. I’m sure I snapped and snarled like a cur dog by way of letting you know you saved my life.”
Kevin rested one of his strong hands on her back.
Wyatt went on. “Your knowledge and care are a miracle straight from God. I feel like the worst kind of sinner to have done something to drive you away.”
To say he hadn’t driven her away would make Kevin blame himself. To say he had driven her away would make Wyatt feel awful. Falcon just kept chewing, eating fast as if he knew they’d have to leave soon and wanted to fill his belly.
He swallowed and said, “Don’t blame me. I didn’t do nothing wrong.”
Molly narrowed her eyes and uncharitably wished he’d choke on a turnip.
Instead of choking, he said, “Come back home with us, Miss Molly. Monday is near a full week away. Come home and spend the days before your job starts with your family. We may try and get you to want to stay, but in the end, it’s your life, and as a self-supporting, intelligent, adult woman, it’s a decision you get to make. But we’re sure enough gonna miss you at the RHR and no denyin’ it.”
Molly was beat. She could feel her will crumbling. Not from Kevin’s worry or Wyatt’s anger. Those only made her more determined to stay away. But Falcon, blast him. And his guiltless invitation. He was making it impossible to stay here.
It was going to take a lot of doing to escape her family. But she was up to the job of escaping more than she was up to the job of taking care of this thankless pack of almost-kin.
“I’ve got five days until school starts.” Molly slammed her napkin on the table and stood. Disgusted with herself. “During that time, I’m going to teach someone in that family to cook. If I do, none of you will ever notice I’m gone.”
Love on the Range Page 4