by Sherry Lewis
She’d spent hours after the game making rough sketches of her mother’s jewelry and wondering if she really could re-create some of the designs. Finding those pliers on the rack had felt like an omen. Buying them had been much more than impulse. Even standing in the parking lot with them in her hand felt like a life-changing commitment.
But maybe she was just being fanciful again.
“Excuse me?”
The voice so close behind her startled her. She turned quickly and found herself face-to-face with a stout woman of about sixty, whose disapproving expression wiped the smile from her face.
“Molly Lane, isn’t it?”
She bobbed her head once and tried to chip the years away so she could remember the woman. She looked familiar, but Molly had met so many people the past week she couldn’t place her. “Yes, but it’s Molly Shepherd now.”
The woman surveyed Molly critically from the tip of her head to the toes of her shoes. “Well, you certainly do look like your mother, don’t you?”
Molly had lost track of the number of times she’d heard that since she’d arrived in town, but this time it was not a compliment. The woman’s hostility confused her, but she wasn’t going to be the first to look away. “I’ve been told that a few times. Were you a friend of my mom’s?”
She knew what the answer was even before it came. “Not exactly. But I certainly knew her.”
Trying not to let the woman unnerve her, Molly put the bag she was carrying into the trunk and reached for another. “Do I know you?”
“You should. Doris Preston. Heather Julander’s mother.” Her eyes narrowed and a direct challenge glimmered in them. “I know you must remember Heather.”
Molly froze with a bag halfway from the cart, and she had to force herself to keep moving. “Of course I remember Heather. How is she?”
“She’s doing well.” Doris lifted her chin as if she dared Molly to argue with her. “She’s living in Santa Fe…for the time being. Of course, she’ll be coming home again soon. To her children. And her husband. Just in case you had any idea that she might not be.”
The woman’s intensity was hard to meet straight on. Molly couldn’t imagine how Beau had lasted a full year with her peering over his shoulder. She knew she should stay calm for Beau’s sake and for the kids, but the past few days were beginning to take a toll and she’d had just about all she could bear of hints and innuendo. “Why would I have any ideas about Heather’s plans?”
“Are you saying you don’t?”
Molly felt another wave of sympathy for Beau and a rush of understanding for poor, confused Brianne. She straightened and looked hard into the older woman’s eyes. “It’s pretty obvious that you’re trying to make a point, but it’s been a long week and I’m not in the mood for games. Why don’t you make this easier on both of us and just say what you mean?”
“I think you already know what I have to say. You’re interfering with my daughter’s family. I want you to stop.”
“I see.” Molly shut the trunk carefully. “I think you’re under the wrong impression, Mrs. Preston. Beau has been kind enough to let me stay in the cabin for a few days. There’s nothing more to it than that.” To signal that the conversation was over, she pushed the empty cart toward the collection point near the front of the store.
Doris trailed behind her. “You think I don’t know what’s going on over there? You think the whole town doesn’t know?”
Molly shoved the cart into the metal cage and turned back. “Even if there were something going on between us, it wouldn’t be your concern.”
“Heather only left because she needed time and space to find herself,” Doris insisted, grabbing Molly’s arm to keep her from walking away. “She has always intended to come back.”
“Beau told me why she left, Mrs. Preston. But out of respect for him and the kids, I’m not going to discuss it with you in the parking lot of the grocery store.”
Haughtiness gave way to desperation in Doris’s eyes. “He told you? Everything?”
“Everything. But I have no intention of telling anyone else, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The older woman seemed to sag. “I don’t know why she wants to hurt everyone this way. It’s just not like her. But she’ll come to her senses one of these days. She wasn’t raised to walk out on her responsibilities.”
The change in Doris cut through Molly’s irritation and she almost felt sorry for the poor woman. Molly had never known Doris well. Unlike April, the woman had been a little aloof around the kids her daughter’s age. But it wasn’t hard to see that she was hurt and afraid. Obviously Beau and the kids weren’t the only ones having trouble accepting Heather’s decisions.
Molly wasn’t sure of the right thing to do under the circumstances, but it seemed mean to let the poor woman worry about something that wasn’t an issue. A kiss or two didn’t make a commitment, and nothing had changed because of them. “I’m not here to stay,” she assured Doris. “And I’m sorry if you’ve worried about my relationship with Beau, because we simply don’t have one beyond friendship. If he ever wants to patch things up with Heather, I certainly won’t come between them.”
She started toward the car again, but Doris put out a hand to stop her. “Then you won’t object to finding another place to stay while you’re in Serenity?”
Molly turned back slowly, trying to recapture some of the sympathy she’d been feeling just seconds before. “The motel is full until the middle of next week, and there is no other place to stay.”
“I understand that, but you’re giving people the wrong impression. There will be talk. Folks will think there’s something going on between you, even if there’s not. And what about Brianne and Nicky? The two of you are setting a bad example for them. I just can’t allow that.”
Molly was the first person to admit that she knew very little about how families worked, but this much interference seemed way over the top. No wonder poor Brianne had such a suspicious nature.
“The kids aren’t in any danger from me. They’re not seeing anything they shouldn’t. And they couldn’t have a better father than Beau. I understand that you’re upset, but that doesn’t give you the right to toss around accusations without any regard for the truth.”
“I call it like I see it.”
Molly struggled to remain patient. “Well, you’re wrong, and you’re being terribly unfair to Beau.”
“I don’t blame Beau. I know you’ve always had a thing for him, and I’m not at all surprised that you’d go to such lengths to get what you want. You’re obviously just like your mother.”
Everything inside Molly turned to ice. Her heartbeat suddenly seemed way too loud and she wasn’t absolutely sure she was still breathing. “If you’re unhappy with the way things are,” she said, speaking slowly to make sure Doris understood her, “talk to Heather. She’s the one who walked out on her husband and children, not me, so don’t blame me for her mess.”
Molly pivoted and walked back to the car, keeping her gait slow and firm when what she really wanted to do was run. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her throat was dry. Her hands trembled and tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Even after she’d driven away, the accusation against her mother rang in her ears. She tried to tell herself that Doris was mistaken, but she could feel something stirring deep within her, far beneath the shock and the outrage.
Like a stick in a muddy pond, her return to Serenity had stirred things up. It was only a matter of time before the truth rose to the surface.
HOURS LATER, Molly stood on the sidelines of the dance floor, trying to catch her breath. She was determined not to let anything ruin the dance, so she hadn’t mentioned her conversation with Doris to Beau. She’d done her best not to think about it herself.
For the first time in her life, she’d danced nearly every dance since the music began—first with Beau, then with a succession of other partners, half of whom she hadn’t recogniz
ed. She’d be dancing even now if she wasn’t in such desperate need of fresh air.
Smiling with remembered pleasure, she scanned the crowd for Beau without success. It had been several minutes since she’d last seen him, but she was also making a conscious effort to keep some space between them. She didn’t want to think about Doris’s accusations, but she couldn’t forget them, and she wasn’t going to make things worse for Beau and the kids.
She turned toward the outside doors, humming as she walked. Someone had done a good job picking out the music, she thought idly. The selection spanned several decades, but every song was familiar and easy to sing along with. From older couples to teenagers, everyone could dance to tunes they knew. Molly wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Beau was responsible. It seemed like the kind of touch he’d bring to the job.
Funny, but when she’d imagined herself in love with him all those years ago, she hadn’t had a clue just how great he really was. She learned something new about him every day, and she liked him more all the time. Despite her assurances to Doris, she was close to losing her heart completely—and this time she wouldn’t be able to get over it so quickly.
Dancing with him had been heaven on earth. The touch of his hand. The feel of his arm around her waist. The scent of his aftershave and the rhythm of his breathing. It had all been so intimate and wonderful. But it had also been an illusion, the product of her own imagination. What she felt for him wasn’t real. What he felt for her…
What he felt for her was probably just a reaction to Heather’s leaving. No matter how much Molly might want things to be different, that was the unvarnished truth. Beau’s ego had suffered a tremendous blow when Heather walked out on him. He’d said so more times than she could count. And she’d be a fool to let herself believe that he was doing anything more than bandaging his pride by sharing a few kisses with a willing woman. She might have been insulted, but she’d started out doing the same thing, and she still had no illusions about creating a lasting relationship.
She pushed open the outside door and stepped into the evening air. The temperature had dropped sharply after the sun went down, and she realized immediately that it had been a mistake to wear the dress she’d chosen. The fabric felt paper-thin in the mountain breeze, and with only thin straps and a light shawl to cover her shoulders, she might as well have been naked.
That would teach her to choose fashion over function.
Vowing to stay outside for only a minute, she took a deep breath and caught the scent of a cigarette somewhere nearby. She glanced around and saw a red-tipped glow hovering near the corner of the building. The shadow moved, and the shape of a man came into view.
He stepped into the beam of light from a security lamp, and Molly recognized Whit Sharp from her graduating class. He’d grown tall and broad in the years since she’d seen him, and his once-thick brown hair had receded. But his eyes were still filled with laughter, and the hesitant smile she remembered so well hadn’t changed a bit.
She grinned as he approached her. He glanced at his cigarette with a grimace, crushed it underfoot and pulled her into a quick hug that was over before she could return it. “Sorry about that,” he said with a jerk of his head at the crushed butt. “Nasty habit I can’t seem to break.”
“I haven’t seen you around. I thought maybe you weren’t living in Serenity anymore.”
“I’m not. I just got in this morning. I’d have come earlier, but I was in trial and couldn’t get away.”
“In trial?”
“Believe it or not, I’m an attorney. And you probably had me pegged as headed for a life of crime.”
“No! Of course not. It’s just…” She broke off with a laugh. “Well, okay, yes. You weren’t exactly the shy, retiring type, and as I recall, you never missed a chance to get into trouble. And now you’re an attorney. Defending juvenile delinquents?”
He laughed and reached for another cigarette in his jacket, caught himself and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Corporate law. Bankruptcy, mostly.” A surge of music from inside the gymnasium filled the space between them, and he studied her. “You look good, Molly. It’s great to see you again. I didn’t think I ever would.”
For once Molly didn’t want to talk about the strange set of circumstances that had kept her away. “You know how life is,” she said. “You get busy with one thing, and then that leads to another. Pretty soon you’ve been gone fifteen years.”
“But you’re here now.”
“Yes.”
Whit pushed away from the wall and smiled down at her. “I heard you’ve been asking questions about your mother’s accident.”
Molly nodded and told herself not to be surprised that he knew. In Serenity news traveled fast. “I’m trying to find out what happened, but I’m running into a little resistance.”
“You don’t remember it at all?”
“I’ve lost about a year.” She shivered and moved out of the wind. “Six months before the accident and nearly the same after. The last thing I remember clearly is getting ready to start our senior year. The next memory I have is of living in Illinois.”
“So you have amnesia?”
“I don’t know if it’s officially amnesia or whether a doctor would call it something else.”
Whit’s scowl deepened. “Are you telling me you haven’t seen a doctor?”
“Well…no. Dad wasn’t terribly worried about it, and by the time I was out on my own, I was used to it.”
“O-o-o-kay.”
That old, protective urge she felt toward her dad rose to the surface. “He didn’t neglect me,” she said. “I was perfectly healthy. It’s just that we never had health insurance, and you can’t just run to the doctor over every little thing under those circumstances.”
“Amnesia isn’t exactly a little thing.”
“It didn’t affect me,” Molly insisted. She wasn’t in the mood to discuss her father’s shortcomings or tear apart his decisions. “I went to college. Made good grades. And I’ve always done well at work. It’s just a little chunk of memory that’s gone, after all. Besides, it’s a beautiful night and I’m having a wonderful time so far, and I don’t want to think about anything unpleasant.”
Whit nodded slowly. “Fair enough.” She could tell he wasn’t convinced they should change the subject, but he did, anyway. “I hear you’re staying with Beau Julander.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “You’ve only been here a few hours and you already know that?”
“It’s a small town, and people have been worried about him since Heather left.”
“Well, to set the record straight, I’m not staying with Beau, I’m staying in a cabin on his property. We’re not an item now, and we’re not going to be an item.”
Whit held up both hands and backed a step away. “Whoa, put the sword away, I didn’t mean to offend you. Frankly, I’m glad to see him looking like himself again. It’s about time.”
“Oh.” She flushed, embarrassed by her reaction. “Well, then, I’m sorry. It’s just that some people seem to have a problem with it, and I guess I’m a little touchy.”
He adjusted his collar and grinned. “Really? I never would have noticed. So, ‘some people’ aside, the two of you are getting along well?”
“So far, so good, I guess. He’s a great guy and he’s been incredibly generous. But I don’t have to tell you that. The two of you have been friends forever.”
“Yeah, we have. He’s a good friend. Salt of the earth and all that. So what do you think of Serenity now that you’re here?”
“It hasn’t changed much.”
“It never does. That’s one of the best and the worst things about it.”
The music from the gym switched to an old Smokey Robinson song, and a memory flashed through Molly’s mind. A dance, just like this one. Her mother swaying to the music in the arms of a man she couldn’t remember. It was gone again in a heartbeat, as quickly as it came. Molly tried to call it back, but the image
wouldn’t form, and after a second or two she realized that Whit was still talking.
“…year after year after year. You always know what you’re going to get when you come home again, though. That’s one thing. It’s predictable.”
Molly pulled herself back into the conversation. “I don’t dislike it here. It’s just a little small, that’s all. And too far off the beaten track.”
Whit slanted a glance at her. “I’d say that’s a pretty generous attitude…considering.”
“Considering what?”
“Well, you know. Considering what happened and all. Must be hard for you to come back here after all that.”
Something deep inside warned her not to ask. Not tonight. Enjoy the music. Dream through another dance or two with Beau. Indulge her fantasy for a few hours more. She could ask questions tomorrow.
But none of those arguments kept the words from rising to her throat and spilling from her mouth. “After all what?”
“Well, you know,” Whit said again, but his eyes flickered from her to the nearby cars uncomfortably, and he looked as if he might have realized that she really didn’t know anything. “Just the divorce and all, and then the accident and your mom dying. And all the talk afterward.” He pulled back to look at her. “That must have been hard.”
Molly met his gaze. “What divorce? What talk?”
“Your mom and dad. You know how this town is. All the news that’s fit to spread in twenty-four hours or less.”
She nodded impatiently. “What about my mom and dad? Why did anyone think they were getting divorced? What did people say?”
Giving an uncomfortable laugh, Whit drew back a step. “I don’t know the details, Molly. That’s just what I heard. I mean, first your dad changed the way he did, and then your mom got killed. There was all kinds of crazy talk right after the accident, especially when your dad decided not to have the funeral here. I figured that was why you and your dad left so soon.”