Wyoming Heather

by DeAnn Smallwood

  “Well, Missy, that sounds like a story I’d like to hear.” Her look turned to one of admiration.

  Molly took a step backward, shaking the floor. A pretend look of surprise filled her face.

  “Well, Lord love a duck. What have you got on your lap, Heather? Why, it’s a doll.” Then, pretending to peer closer to the child peeking between fingers to look at the big woman, she stepped back again. “No, upon my soul, it’s not a doll, it’s a blond bunny with big blue eyes. Are you a bunny?” She leaned her face closer to Jesse.

  Heather held her breath waiting for the little girl to start screaming.

  But she didn’t. Still not taking her spread fingers from her face, Jesse shook her head ‘no’.

  “What?” Molly boomed again. “Not a bunny? Well, then I know what you are. Bet your boots I do. You’re a bear. A baby bear cub. Yep. Knew it the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  Heather and Alice held their breath watching the scene unfold.

  Jesse took her hands from her face and sat up straight. She shook her head, this time with more emphasis. The hint of a smile brought two dimples to her cheeks.

  “Oh, well now I’m up a tree.” Molly crossed her large arms over her ample bosom. “You wouldn’t be a squirrel, would you?” She drilled the child with another piercing look.

  More head shaking.

  Heather looked at Jesse and saw a light in her eyes she’d never seen before. Jesse, with her child’s intuition and acceptance, had recognized another wounded soul. Molly, for all her posturing, engendered no fear. A giggle escaped along with more head shaking.

  “Well, now.” A fat, stubby finger went to the woman’s chin in a pondering gesture. “If I guessed what you are, would I win a prize?”

  There was no response. Jesse sat still as a statue, her eyes never leaving Molly’s face.

  Then came a hesitant nod.

  “Well, now,” Molly said, appearing to have fallen into a thoughtful muse, “I haven’t got me a little girl. Always wanted one, though. Got me lots of room.” She slapped her girth. “If I was to guess right, I’d want that little girl to come sit on my lap ALL THROUGH DINNER.” The last three words were belted out in a mock threat.

  Jesse giggled even louder.

  Heather’s heart constricted at the sound.

  “Hmmm, let me see. I got me a real hard one here,” Molly said slowly, dragging out each word. “Not a squirrel, no tail. Not a bear, no fur coat. Not a bunny, no big ears. You haven’t got big ears, have you?” She leaned over and brushed a golden curl back, looking from one ear to another.

  Jesse threw both little hands over her mouth and giggled into them.

  “Well, then,” Molly said, raising herself to her full, impressive height, “there’s only one thing left. You”—her voice grew soft and whispery—“you’re a girl. A GIRL! No doubt about it. You can’t fool Molly McVee. You be a girl, I know it. Am I right?”

  Jesse nodded emphatically.

  “Well, don’t that beat all. Course, now I get my prize. Come here, sweetheart, and let Molly hold you. We’ll sit down at that table and wait for dinner. Then after dinner, we’ll share a big piece of that apple pie Alice has bubbling in the oven.”

  Without waiting for permission, Molly, in one smooth motion, plucked the child from Heather’s arms. Heather leaned forward ready to grab Jesse back to safety with the first squeak. The small, broken child would certainly not leave her safe haven to go with a stranger. A large, loud, stranger, to boot.

  But that’s just what she did. Molly’s massive arms wrapped around the little girl, and she turned her back on Heather and sat down in a chair, talking to Jesse all the way.

  Molly McVee had arrived. And, Molly McVee had conquered.

  Heather filled with hope. Hope and anticipation. Alice was right. They needed a Molly McVee. Now, all Heather had to do was convince Molly that she needed them.

  Chapter 29

  Dinner was an event in itself. Heather couldn’t remember when she had enjoyed herself as much. She understood why people invited Molly to their homes. She was like a beacon of light on rock-strewn shores and had an amazing capability to reach out and guide everyone to a peaceful harbor.

  Jesse never left her lap. In fact, she was sleeping peacefully there, her head resting against Molly’s ample breasts. The child wore her new, flannel nightgown. Molly had won the honor of changing her out of her new dress and into the gown. Molly had been allowed to brush her golden curls and tie a yellow ribbon around them. Molly had patted a small back with an amazingly gentle hand until sleep crept in and closed Jesse’s eyes.

  Alice and Heather finished wiping the dishes and were setting out cups for the coffee perking on the back of Alice’s stove. Its dark, rich aroma filled the cozy kitchen, and Heather knew that no matter how much she longed for her home, tonight was special. It would be a night she’d remember; the night she hopefully coaxed Molly into coming and living at the Circle C.

  “Molly,” Heather said, setting a full cup of dark brew down. “Could I ask you a question?”

  “Well, Lord love a duck, Heather. Ain’t I been tossing questions at you all night? Course you can.”

  “Molly, what I’m going to ask is impertinent, and I hope you’ll forgive me, but there’s a purpose in my question.”

  “I’ve always found the best way to ask something is to spit it right out. What you got on your mind, Missy?”

  “Are you happy with your life right now?”

  “Am I happy?” Molly bellowed back the question, her face a conflict of emotions. Then, after a few long moments, the answer came back softer and wistful.

  “Well, heck no, Missy, I ain’t happy. Got me no man, no home of my own, no reason to get up in the morning. But then, on the other hand, I’m alive. Least that’s what I tell myself each morning.” She beamed a smile at them and took a hearty gulp of her coffee. “And, I’m back among friends, instead of people who smile at your face and laugh behind your back.” A cloud of pain flitted across her broad face.

  She’d been hurt, all right.

  “I’m sorry, Molly,” Heather said softly. “I shouldn’t have asked. But, I needed to know before I go on.”

  “Like I said, spit it out, Heather. Just spit it out.”

  Heather took a breath of air. “Molly, as I told you, Toby and Jesse aren’t mine.”

  “Right, you’re helping out that lawman you’re so fond of.”

  Good Lord, Heather thought. Am I that obvious?

  “Well, yes,” Heather replied. “Whip and I are working on this together. But to tell the truth, Molly, I don’t know how we’re going to do it. Whip and I are both so busy with our ranches we hardly have time in the day to sleep. I don’t honestly know how we’ll care for the children. Jesse doesn’t talk, she wets herself, and Toby hasn’t had a chance to enjoy being a little boy. He’s seen too much and has met the world with his fists.”

  Molly’s big head nodded with each word, her eyes wet with understanding. Her hand patted Jesse’s back again as she hugged the child closer.

  “Molly,” Heather blurted out. “Whip and I need you. The children need you.” There, she’d said it. Badly, but she’d said it.

  “You need me?” The question came as a whisper. “You need me?” Wonderment laced Molly’s voice.

  “You’ve got so much love in you, it only took me minutes to see that. Look at what you’ve done with Jesse already.” Heather’s words tumbled one over the other as they rushed out of her mouth. “I’ve got plenty of room at the Circle C. I’m out of the house all day so the house would be yours to do with as you pleased. Jesse and Toby would spend most of their time with me, uh, us. Toby will insist on going to Whip’s, probably daily. Jesse, not so often. Still, they need Whip’s guidance. Toby especially. They were fitting him for a horse when I left, and, of course, there’s Buster Walking Tall, Whip’s blood brother and foreman. Whip will make a man of Toby, a fine man. If Toby emulates Whip, well you couldn’t ask for more.” Then rea
lizing what she had just said, she abruptly stopped talking. A red blush rushed over her face.

  “Well, what I mean is,” she tried again. “I’m rambling. “It’s just that, darn it, Molly, there’s a home for you for as long as you want it on the Circle C. Of course, it comes with some problems, two of them, and the house isn’t as clean as it used to be, and I’ve got lots of animals I care for, so you’ll have to put up with that, and in the summer we have to conserve water, and—”

  “Heather.” Molly broke in, authoritatively. “You stop right there. Lord love a duck, you’re clattering like a tree branch in a windstorm. You’re saying, asking, well, offering, me a home?”

  “Yes. Molly, I’m offering you a home. Will you come?”

  The woman sat straight and stiff in her chair. A tear fell from her eye and rolled over a hill of cheek. “Got me a question of my own.” Her voice quivered.

  “Yes?” Heather feared the question and how she’d answer it.

  “What time do we leave in the morning?”

  “What time, wha—?” Heather started, then stopped as a smile lit up her face. “Oh, Molly. Does that mean you’ll come? Of course it does,” she said, answering her own question.

  “Molly McVee,” Heather said as she rounded the table, throwing her arms around the surprised woman. “Molly McVee and me, sounds like a poem, except it’s us. Molly McVee and us. It’s still poetry, Molly. My house hasn’t been a home for so long, and now, well now, with you there, it will be.”

  “Hush now, you’ll wake this little one, and she’s got a big day ahead of her tomorrow.” But it wasn’t a rebuke. It was a muffled sound of joy. Joy and disbelief. She had a home. Not just a home, but a home with kids. She owed this little lady wrapped around her neck. And, in that moment, loyalty and love were born and Molly vowed she’d never let Heather down. Rule the home she would. After all, she was needed, but the queen of the house would be Heather. Course, she couldn’t let her know that. Molly smiled to herself. Wouldn’t do at all. Not at all.

  “You step aside now, Missy. I got to get myself back to that miserable little house. I got me some packing to do.

  “Anything too big to take, Molly, we can send for.”

  “Or I can bring it with me next week when I come with Jesse’s dresses,” Alice volunteered. There were tear tracks on Alice’s face, but there was also smugness, much like the cat that just licked up the cream. She’d known Molly would be perfect for Heather. And she’d known Heather would be perfect for Molly. Now, she thought wistfully, if only there was someone perfect for me. I wonder if Whip has a brother. She smiled at the thought.

  In a few minutes, Jesse had been nestled in the bed, thank you’s had been said, and a door slammed in the wake of a large woman hurrying home.

  “Alice,” Heather said.

  “Heather,” Alice said simultaneously.

  Two sets of eyes were wide with happiness. Two very pretty mouths spread in congratulatory grins. Two minds knew that tonight something special had happened.

  “Molly McVee and me,” Heather said quietly. “No, Molly McVee and us.” She chuckled at the thought of introducing Molly to Whip. Oh yes, Molly McVee and us.

  Chapter 30

  The look on Whip’s face was priceless. He gulped twice, coughed, and nervously rubbed a hand across his lower face. Then, remembering his manners, he tipped his hat and said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. McVee.”

  “Molly.” Her voice carried loud and clear, even though it came from behind as Molly clambered down from the wagon. “Ain’t none of the Mrs. McVee stuff. I’m plain and simple Molly. Whooee.” She turned her head back to the watching Heather. “Lord love a duck, Heather, you never told me he was so durn pretty. I might just snatch him up for myself. Put a little meat on that lanky body and he’d suit me just fine.” She boomed out a chuckle that could be heard at the bunkhouse.

  The entire time she was speaking, she was moving. Whip was now looking over his shoulder at Buster Walking Tall, leaning against the corral fence. Buster’s face was void of emotion, until you looked into his eyes, which were filled with malicious delight. To say he was enjoying Whip’s discomfort would be inaccurate. He was reveling in it.

  Whip backed up, but Molly kept advancing, until he backed into the corral poles, trapped. There was no help coming, and he looked again to Buster. Nope, as he’d thought, no help coming. He’d seen Buster’s eyes.

  “Buster, I’ll get even. Some brother you are,” he gritted the words out between clenched teeth.

  “Big, pretty lawman don’t need no help from Indian brother.” Buster’s words were low, heard only by a grimacing Whip.

  Molly threw her arms around Whip’s stiff body and gave him a hug worthy of a grizzly. “Like I said, Mr. Whip. I’ve come to take over making a home for those two kids of yours.” And, beaming happiness from every pore of her body, Molly gave him another bone crushing squeeze.

  “Well, uh, I, uh, thank you mightily, Ma’am.” When he saw her admonishing look, he added, “Molly, Ma’am.”

  “No Ma’am. I’m just Molly.” She slapped Whip on his back, chuckling loudly.

  Whip staggered with the blow and knew then and there he’d better make a friend of Molly McVee cause Lord help the man who was her enemy.

  Before anyone could say anything else, Molly spied Buster, arms crossed over his chest, his manner erect, his gaze penetrating.

  “So,” she said, walking over to his friend. “I’d bet my bottom dollar, you’re Buster Walking Tall. Heard all about you from Heather.”

  Whip, Heather, and even little Jesse stood quietly, holding their breath. It was as if a northerner had blown in and frozen everyone but Molly and Buster in place.

  Molly held out her hand. “Ain’t gonna hug you, Mr. Walking Tall. Not ‘cause I wouldn’t, but cause you’d hate it even more than poor Whip. And he did tolerable,” she said. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to shake your hand. You’re a man to cross the river with and I’d be proud if someday you’d call me friend.”

  Buster eyed the hand held straight in front of him. Then with a nod of his head, he took her hand and held it. “Hohahe,” he said.

  She turned her head toward Whip, then back to Buster.

  “Hohahe, hecheto welo,” Buster said imperiously, speaking only to Molly.

  Then in a whisper meant only for her, he interpreted. “Welcome. It is good.”

  Molly stood taller and looked him in the eye. “You’re a man of few words, Mr. Walking Tall. My Jake were, too. He always said, though, that it was ‘cause I talked enough for both of us. You and me got our hands full. But we’ll do it. We’ll look out for these two.” She nodded her big head toward Heather and Whip.

  All of a sudden, the silence was broken by a banshee yell and the sound of hooves. Around the corner of the barn came a black and white spotted horse with a small boy hanging on its back. The boy was shirtless, and his moccasined feet dug into the horse’s flanks urging it on. The boy grinned from ear-to-ear as he held center stage, regaling them all with one war cry after another. His face was dirt streaked, and his shoulders were beet red from the sun.

  “Haho, haho!” he shouted in Lakota. “Look at this, look at this.”

  He pulled the horse to a skidding stop, threw one leg over, and, in a sliding fall, rolled off the horse’s rounded rump to the ground. Unabashed, he picked himself up and ran to Jesse, grinning.

  “Jesse.” The words flew from his mouth. “Look what I got. Whip gave him to me. And I’ll share. It’ll be ours. He’s the best, Jesse. I call him Cola, that’s Lakota for friend. Buster’s teaching me. And he’ll teach you, too. Whip says we’re his now, and he’s letting me be a boy cause he says I ain’t never been a boy. I don’t have to work even. Well, Whip says I have chores just like any man, but you and I can stay for free. Can you beat that? Anyhow, we can ride, and eat in the bunkhouse, and help the cowboys and—” His eyes widened and his Adam’s apple jerked in a gulp. His eyes blinked and his mouth worke
d wordlessly. He looked from her to Heather, then back to Jesse again.

  “Dang it, Jesse. You done let them girl you up. You’re sissified. Where’s your pants? Tole you never to take ‘em off.” Gone was the show off warrior and in his place was a bewildered and angry little boy. A little boy that had lost his brother and found, to his dislike and mistrust, a sister.

  “How you gonna ride Cola, huh? How you gonna ride in a dress?” he asked disdainfully. He walked closer until he was inches from her. Then, seeing her hang her head at his rebuff, he said gruffly, “You okay, Jesse? Ain’t nobody hurt you?”

  Jesse shook her head ‘no’.

  “’Cause you can’t always take care of yourself. You need me ‘cause I’m so much bigger. Don’t you?” he asked fearfully.

  The response came in a second. A smile wreathed her face and her head bobbed up and down. Then she reached out and put her hand in his.

  “Well, come on. Guess you’ll do for now. But you gotta have pants, Jesse, if you want to be a real cowboy. I want to show you Cola. Whip says I can ride him anywhere as long as I stay in the barnyard. When I’m a better rider, you and I’ll take him down to the river. He’s fast, Jesse. Real fast. So I’d better hold the reins ‘cause I’m stronger.

  “Toby.” Whip’s voice cut across the yard. “Forget your manners? There’s ladies present. Get your shirt on, then come say hello. Cola can wait.”

  And to no one’s surprise, there was no argument from the boy. “Yes sir, Whip.” With a smile on his face, he pulled the shirt off a pole and onto his thin frame. Still smiling, he looked over at Heather and Molly and said, “Hello, Miss Heather. Thank you for taking care of Jesse. I appreciate it. She looks and smells different, but I guess it’s okay.”

  Heather laughed. “I’ll just bet she does, Toby, but I promise you it will be okay.”