by Gina Wilkins
Molly was to be dropped off by her friend’s mother at ten o’clock Saturday morning. Shane had been waiting impatiently for her arrival—so impatiently that it rather amused him. He’d discovered that he was definitely the overprotective type when it came to parenting. He worried constantly about Molly when she was out of his sight, especially since she was his responsibility for now. While he had enjoyed their time together, he would be rather relieved when his parents returned from their vacation and he could turn the reins back over to them.
He wondered if he would worry this much about his own kids. And then he wondered if he would ever have kids to worry about. Shane liked children and had always assumed he would have a family of his own. But kids generally meant a wife, and Shane had yet to meet anyone he’d even considered for that position. As his twenty-eighth birthday drew closer, he couldn’t help wondering when—or if—he would ever meet anyone who made him feel the way his father felt about Cassie.
When he heard a car door slam in his driveway, he knew Molly had returned. He waited at the door to greet her with open arms and a big smile. Molly ran through the door, threw her overnight bag on the floor and kept going, straight to the spare bedroom she had been using. Shane caught only a glimpse of her tear-streaked face before she slammed the door closed between them.
After a moment of stunned immobility, he moved quickly to the door. “Molly?”
“Go away,” she wailed from the other side. “Please.”
“Molly, sweetheart, let’s talk about this, okay?” He tried the doorknob, but she had locked it. “Molly?”
“Please, Shane. I just want to be alone, okay? Please just g-go away.” The words dissolved then into a torrent of noisy tears.
Shane stared at the blank wooden door in totally baffled dismay. What was he supposed to do now? Pick the lock? Would that really be helpful when she had just begged him to leave her alone?
Another heartrending sob made him rattle the doorknob again. “Molly, open the door. We need to talk.”
“No.” Misery had turned mutinous now. He had never heard defiance in her voice before.
“Molly, open the door!”
“No! Go away, Shane.”
Resisting the urge to kick the door in—which, he was sure, was the totally wrong thing to do in this sticky situation—he pushed a hand through his hair and swallowed a curse. He wished his father was here. Jared would have quietly and firmly requested that Molly open the door, and she would have done it. Cassie would have soothed and cajoled her distraught daughter until Molly would have come out to throw herself in her mother’s loving arms and spill out whatever it was that was bothering her.
Shane, on the other hand, was clueless about how to handle this. He could leave her alone, as she had requested, but the sound of her crying was ripping him apart. He couldn’t just walk away. What he needed, he decided abruptly, was a woman.
He spun on one booted heel and headed for the telephone. Who should he call? One of his aunts? Layla, the tenderhearted, motherly one? Michelle, quiet, gracious, a woman who radiated competence and kindness? Both had daughters of their own, and perhaps some experience with this sort of thing. Or should he call his cousin, Brynn, who had worked in daycare and as a nanny, and was now training to be a schoolteacher? She should know about adolescent traumas, and being closer to Molly’s age, she might communicate with her better.
But the number he automatically punched into the keypad belonged to someone else entirely. “Kelly?” he said when she answered on the first ring. “It’s Shane. I need help.”
It was just over an hour after Shane had called that Kelly parked her car in his driveway and jumped out. She’d arrived as soon as she could get there. She could still hear the echo of the desperation in Shane’s voice.
Whatever problems existed between her and Shane, there had been no question about whether she would come when he called to ask for her help. She adored Molly and was as distressed as Shane that something had happened to upset her. She knew it was possible that Shane had managed to deal with the problem while she was on her way, but she was anxious to find out for sure.
Shane had the front door open before she could ring the bell. “Thank you for coming,” he said, his tone heartfelt.
He looked, she thought, completely frazzled. His coffee-brown hair was standing straight up in places, as if he’d been dragging his hands through it, and his expression was one of seething frustration.
“Molly still hasn’t told you what happened?” Kelly asked.
“She still won’t open the door to tell me anything. She stopped crying, I think, but she won’t talk. I thought about picking the lock....”
“No, don’t do that. Let me try talking to her first. It would be better if it’s her decision to let us in.”
He waved a hand in the direction of the door. “You’re certainly welcome to try.”
Kelly took a couple of steps toward the door. Shane was right on her heels. She stopped. “You stay here,” she suggested. “I’ll call if I need you.”
Reluctantly he remained in the living room when she walked down the short hallway to the two bedrooms. The door to Shane’s room was standing open, revealing an unmade bed and a bit of masculine clutter. Turning her back on that cozy sight, she knocked on the other door. “Molly?”
The girl sounded startled, her voice still thick with tears. “Who is it?”
“It’s Kelly. May I come in?”
“I...” Molly’s voice broke, then steadied. “I’m not really in the mood for company right now.”
“You’re upset. Wouldn’t you like someone to talk to?”
There was a long silence, and then a hiccuping sob. “Is Shane out there?”
“Shane’s in the living room. It’s just us girls, okay?”
Another tense pause, and then the lock clicked on the other side of the door. To Kelly’s relief, the door slowly opened. Her relief turned to sympathy when she saw Molly’s wet, woebegone face. “Oh, honey, what happened?”
Molly drew her into the room, closed the door again and then burrowed into her arms. “I wish I was dead!”
Kelly winced. It seemed like she’d been hearing that a lot lately. Surely Molly was too young to have had her heart broken.
“Let’s sit down and you can tell me about it.”
When Molly nodded, Kelly led her to the bed and sat on the edge with her. Holding the girl’s cold little hands in hers, she squeezed reassuringly. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Molly bit her full lower lip, looking down at their hands. “Amy Miller and Lacy Dixon made fun of me. They said I have carrot hair and freckles and I don’t have any boobs and I’ll never have a boyfriend.”
Kelly’s first reaction was relief that it wasn’t a far more serious problem. Her second response was a surge of pure anger. “Why, those snotty little toads!”
Molly was startled into a watery giggle. But her amusement was short-lived. She looked woefully down at her petite, reed-thin body. “They said I look like a boy. They both have figures—Amy’s just turned thirteen and she already wears a C-cup. And Lacy’s got blond highlights and she’s already won two beauty contests.”
“She didn’t win Miss Congeniality, I bet,” Kelly muttered.
Molly looked bewildered. Kelly shook her head. “Never mind. Why did they turn on you that way?”
“I don’t know.” Molly sniffled. “I was talking to Kristin—she’s the one who had the birthday—anyway, I was telling her about the barrel race I won on Sunshine last month, and all of a sudden Amy and Lacy started talking about how many boys they’d kissed and they asked me if I’d ever had a boyfriend and I said no and that’s when they told me I probably won’t get a boyfriend because boys don’t like flat girls with fuzzy red hair and freckles.” She stopped for a breath, then added, “Kristin and Patty and Montrieka tried to take up for me, but Amy and Lacy just kept making fun of me until it was time to come home. But I didn’t cry in front of them.”
&nb
sp; “Good for you.” Kelly wrapped an arm around Molly’s shoulders and hugged. “You listen to me, Molly Walker. Amy and Lacy sound like a couple of bratty bimbos-in-training who don’t have the faintest idea what they’re talking about. My guess would be that they were jealous of your accomplishments, so they cut you down in a feeble attempt to build themselves up. So Amy’s won a couple of beauty contests...”
“Lacy,” Molly corrected.
“Whatever. Big deal. She knows how to walk down a runway in an expensive dress without falling on her face. She also knows that isn’t nearly as challenging and exciting as the competitive riding you do. I’ve seen you ride, remember? And Molly, you are pure poetry on horseback. You’re so beautiful when you fly around those barrels that it takes my breath away.”
Molly looked hopeful. “Really?”
“Absolutely. And your hair is lovely. The color of a fiery sunset. You look exactly like your mother.”
“My mother’s pretty,” Molly whispered.
Kelly smiled. “Yes, she is. You only have to ask your dad to know that. I bet he thinks she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.”
Molly seemed somewhat encouraged, but not entirely convinced. “Cameron calls me gorgeous sometimes,” she murmured.
“Well, there you go. If anyone should know a pretty girl when he sees one, it’s Cameron.”
“I’m still flat.”
“So was I, at your age,” Kelly confided. She wrinkled her nose. “I still don’t wear a C-cup. I’ve had to settle for a B.”
“You have a great figure, Kelly. And you’re so pretty.”
Giving the girl another hug, Kelly smiled again. “Thank you, sweetie. But believe me, I went through my gawky stage—all knees and elbows and ears and teeth. Why do you think I wear my hair so short?”
“I thought you just like it short.”
“Yes—but mostly because it’s straight as a stick. I can’t do a thing with it when it gets too long. I used to dream about having soft, natural curls like yours.”
Molly lifted a hand slowly to her tousled hair. “You did?”
“Absolutely. You are as pretty as any girl I know. And you’re so much more than pretty—smart and funny and loving and talented, all of which are more valuable than outward appearance. When the time is right for you to have a boyfriend, the boys will notice you. In the meantime, you have a great time and don’t let anyone put you down. Next time they try, hold your chin up and tell them you are perfectly happy with your looks and your life and you wouldn’t trade places with them—or anyone.”
“Okay, I will.”
“And if that doesn’t work, tell me and I’ll go give them a piece of my mind.”
Molly smiled weakly and leaned her head on Kelly’s shoulder. “They really hurt my feelings.”
“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”
“I won’t let them do that to me again.”
“No.” Kelly hoped Molly would talk about this incident with her parents, who would probably know better than Kelly what their child needed to hear. “Molly—Shane’s really worried about you. You think we should go talk to him?”
Molly made a face. “Is he mad at me?”
“Why would he be mad at you?”
“Because I wouldn’t talk to him. I—I didn’t think he would understand. He’s... Well, he’s a guy. And he’s my brother. He doesn’t want me to have a boyfriend anyway.”
Kelly couldn’t help smiling. “Not for a few more years, I’m sure.”
Mopping her face with her hand, Molly swallowed. “A bunch of girls are already going out with guys. That’s all they talk about. But I don’t want to do that right now, Kelly. I just want to hang out with my friends and ride my horses and do things with my family, you know?”
“I know.” She pulled a clean tissue out of her pocket and dried Molly’s cheeks. “And there’s nothing at all wrong with that.”
“Lacy said it’s weird not to have a boyfriend.”
“Hmm. Do you think I’m weird, Molly?”
The child’s eyes rounded. “Of course not! You’re one of the coolest people I know.”
“Thank you. But I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I have a lot of friends who happen to be guys, and I enjoy their company very much. But I’m not really looking for a boyfriend until I finish college and get a job. Like you, I’m just not ready for a boyfriend right now.”
“Does anyone ever tease you about it?” Molly asked a bit shyly.
“If they ask, I tell them I’m waiting for someone very special, and I’m not willing to settle for just anyone—unlike some desperate girls who think they need a boyfriend to make them cool.”
Molly’s eyebrows rose. “I think a girl can be cool without a boyfriend. Like you. And Dawne—she hasn’t had a boyfriend since she broke up with jerky Jordan last year—that’s what she calls him now anyway.”
“See? Dawne wasn’t going to settle, either. She knows she deserves someone special, and she’s willing to wait for him. You have plenty of time in the future for boyfriends and romance, sweetie. But you only get to be twelve years old for a little while. It’s a great age—don’t let anyone take the fun away from you.”
Impulsively Molly reached up to kiss Kelly’s cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Kelly cleared her throat. “Now wash your face and comb your pretty red hair and let’s go put poor Shane out of his misery, okay?”
“Okay.” Molly dashed toward the tiny adjoining bathroom and a moment later, Kelly heard water running.
She spent the brief time she waited imagining ways to take revenge on a couple of catty adolescent girls. Glue in their hair gel? Food dye in their makeup? Ants in their C-cups? She would never follow up on those ignoble fantasies, of course, but it gave her a grim satisfaction to imagine retribution for Molly’s humiliation.
Molly returned with a rosy face and a sweet smile that made all her negative thoughts vanish. She stood and held out her hand. “Let’s go see Shane.”
Chapter Seven
They found Shane pacing the living room, his hands in his hair again. He spun to look at them when he heard them approach. Kelly and Molly smiled at him.
“I’m hungry, Shane,” Molly announced. “When’s lunch?”
Shane stared at her. “Er...are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Kelly made me feel better. Have you fed my guinea pig today?”
“No. The cage is still in the laundry room.”
“Okay. I’ll go feed him.” Molly spun and moved toward the laundry room at her usual pace—top speed.
Shane watched his little sister out of sight and then turned slowly to Kelly. “What on earth did you say to her?”
“Girl talk,” she answered breezily. “She’s fine, Shane. Don’t worry about her, okay?”
“Don’t worry? She spent an hour in her room, crying as if her heart was broken, and I’m just supposed to forget about it?”
“A couple of snotty brats hurt her feelings at the party. I’m not going to tell you what they said because I don’t think Molly would want me to, but she and I talked about it and I don’t think she’ll let them hurt her again.”
“They’d damned well better not,” Shane growled, his eyes flashing. “Tell me their names and I’ll call their parents. And then I’m calling Kristin’s mother and asking what she was thinking, letting a child be attacked in her home.”
“You aren’t calling anyone,” Kelly replied firmly. “The only purpose that would serve is to give the brats more ammunition to use against her. Let Molly try to handle this. If she decides she wants your help, she’ll ask for it.”
He blew out an impatient breath. “Darn it, I want to pound someone for making her cry.”
“So do I—but you really can’t pound a couple of teenage girls.”
Shane muttered something incomprehensible.
“She’ll probably tell Cassie about it. Cassie will know exactly wh
at to say to make her feel better,” Kelly predicted confidently.
“Apparently you did, too. She went into that room sobbing and she came out smiling.”
She could tell from Shane’s expression that he was a bit hurt that Molly hadn’t been able to talk to him. She laid a hand on his arm. “She really just wanted a woman’s perspective on this one. She knows you’ll always be there for her when she needs you.”
“So what about lunch, Shane?” Molly asked, bouncing back into the room. “Can Kelly eat with us?”
Shane ruffled Molly’s freshly brushed hair and smiled at Kelly. “I’d like that. Kelly, will you have lunch with us? We thought we’d go out to eat today.”
“Well, I...”
“Please, Kelly,” Molly said winningly. “First you can visit the kitten Shane’s giving you when she’s old enough to leave her mother, and then we’ll all go out to eat. It will be fun.”
She couldn’t refuse. “I would love to join you for lunch. Thank you.”
Beaming, Molly caught Kelly’s hand in her right hand and Shane’s in her left. “This is going to be great.”
Kelly’s eyes met Shane’s And something in his expression made her swallow hard.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, speaking to Molly but still looking at Kelly. “This is going to be great.”
Shane and Kelly allowed Molly to select the restaurant for lunch. Hardly to Shane’s surprise, she chose her favorite Tex-Mex place, which was attached to a shopping center just outside of Dallas. The mall was crowded with Saturday-afternoon Christmas shoppers, and glittering with decorations. Even though they were a bit early for the lunch rush, they had to wait fifteen minutes for a table. Molly didn’t seem to mind.
“This place has the most awesome nachos,” she assured Kelly. “But the other food is good, too.”
Kelly promised to keep that in mind.
When they were finally seated, Shane ordered an appetizer of raw vegetables and dip—to make the fast-food meal more nutritious, he assured them gravely—and fruit punch all around. He chuckled when a man dressed as Santa Claus in a sombrero passed their table playing “Feliz Navidad” on a guitar. “Molly and I like only the most elegant restaurants,” he assured Kelly as two squealing children dashed past their table in the singing Santa’s wake.