Mollie_Bride of Georgia

by Lorrie Farrelly

  “All right, then, if you insist. But at least me get one if the men to help you.” When he shook his head, Mollie said in exasperation, “For heaven’s sake, Nick, be reasonable. You have to stop putting weight on your leg! You’re going to risk losing it!”

  That thought brought him up short, even as he felt his knees begin to buckle. When he finally gave in, jerking his head in a nod, Mollie eased him back down to edge of the bed. He swiped an arm across his forehead, blew out a heavy, shaky breath.

  “Sorry. Sorry, sweetheart,” he rasped. “I hate bein’ … trouble.”

  Mollie touched his cheek, managed a smile. “And yet y’all are so very good at it.” When he croaked out a laugh, Mollie patted him gently. “Now y’all just stay put for a minute,” she said. “I’ll be right back with help.”

  Scooping up a wrapper – another loan from Ida – from the back of the wing chair, Mollie pulled it on and hurried from the room. A few minutes later she returned with Marcellus, who sized up the situation at once.

  “All right, now. Y’all just sit down a spell and rest, Miz Avinger,” the big liveryman said. “I’ll have Mist’ Nick fixed up and back in bed in a jiffy.” He moved to brace Nick against his hip, wrapping his arm over his shoulders. “Come on, now, suh,” he said. “Easy does it. That’s the way, suh. Nice an’ slow. Y’all gotta keep offa that there leg now.”

  Nick clenched his jaw but only muttered, “Yeah. Obliged … Marcellus.”

  Fifteen minutes later, washed and clothed in a fresh nightshirt borrowed from George, Nick was half-carried, half-dragged back to bed by Marcellus, who waved off both Nick’s and Mollie’s grateful thanks with a wink and a warning. “Now don’t you be gettin’ outta that there bed again without you call for me, suh, you hear?”

  “I hear,” Nick grunted. His eyes were already closing, and within moments, he had fallen back asleep.

  “Y’all need anythin’ else while I’m here, Miz Avinger, ma’am?” Marcellus asked.

  “No, thank you, Marcellus. You were a great help. I’m just going to change the dressing on his leg, and when he wakes again, we’ll see if he can eat a little something. And Dr. Boehm promised to come back later today.”

  “All right, then, Missus. Long as y’all call if y’all need me.”

  “I will, yes.” Again Mollie smiled her thanks, and Marcellus left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  • • • • •

  Later that morning, Marcellus drove Mollie home, where she began to gather the clothing and personal items they would need until Nick recovered enough to return home. She was just finishing when two heavily loaded freight wagons lumbered down the drive and the drivers pulled the four-horse teams of draft animals up in front of the house. Several men jumped down from each wagon, and as Mollie stepped out onto the porch to greet them, one doffed his hat, walked up to the porch, and introduced himself as Tobe Fennerty, one of George’s foremen.

  “Mr. Gress done sent me an’ the boys, ma’am,” Fennerty said politely. “Told us to pick up the furnishings Rich’s had ready on our way here, bring’em along with the lumber and such, so’s y’all don’t need to wait on the store deliverin’em.”

  As the other men approached, all with their hats in hand, Tobe introduced them. “This here’s Mort Peterson, ma’am, best plumber an’ pipefitter in town. That there’s Johnny Schramm and Andy Moran, rough carpenters and stone and tile masons, and Bill Kershaw, whose the best damn – uh, beg pardon, ma’am – darn finish carpenter y’all ever did see. Bobby Joe Pritchard here’s the gas fitter, then we got our drivers, Paulie Barnes an’ Jack Willard.” He gestured at the men handling the draft teams, both of whom tipped their hats from their perches atop the wagons. “They’ll see to the teams and give us all a hand wherever they can.”

  After the men nodded and mumbled polite, “How do, Ma’am”, Mollie said, “I’m so very pleased y’all are here, gentlemen. I am truly very much obliged. Did Mr. Gress explain to y’all what I needed done?”

  “Yes, ma’am, he surely did,” Tobe said. He pulled a rolled-up pack of papers from his pocket. “Got the specifications right here. Mr. Gress went over’em with me ’fore we left. We’ll do it up right for you an’ the Doc, ma’am. Y’all can count on us.”

  After thanking the men once more, Mollie left them to begin unloading the wagons and carting the crates, lumber, pipes, and supplies around to the back of the house while she went to the stable in search of Marcellus. She found him currying Magnolia in a large box stall.

  He looked up as she approached, smiled a greeting. “Howdy, Miz Avinger. Looks like Mr. George’s crew was Johnny-on-the-spot today.”

  Mollie smiled, folded her arms on the top of the stall gate. “Yes, they surely were. It seems we’ll be staying here longer than I thought today. I want to be sure things are going smoothly before we go back to the Gresses’ house.” She watched him work a few moments longer, then said, “There’s still plenty of food left in the icebox from that wonderful wedding feast Miz Willie Mae prepared. When you’re done out here, y’all come on back up to the house and have yourself something to eat.”

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Marcellus said, “but I done brought a dinner pail. Got it in the back of the buggy.”

  Mollie nodded. “All right, then. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to leave.”

  “Yes’m,” Marcellus said, nodding. “Y’all need anything, just give me a holler.”

  CHAPTER 19

  As the days passed, Nick stayed awake longer and grew steadily stronger. He also grew more and more restless, especially on days when Mollie left to check on the progress of the renovations at the house or to get updates from Mose Thompson at the zoo. Apparently all was going even better than expected at both sites, and although the good news relieved his mind, Nick chafed at the bit to get out of his sister’s house and back to the work he loved.

  At the same time, though, he dreaded the day he would go home to a newly furnished, miserably lonely bedroom. He knew sleeping alone was the only thing he could do to protect his wife from the violent nightmares he could not control.

  As he healed, growing stronger every day, the danger to Mollie grew as well. Nick knew he couldn’t share a bed with her much longer, and his heart cracked wide open and bled at the thought.

  Still, the time came when going home could be put off no longer, and Nick knew it. Late one afternoon nearly two weeks after his accident, when Mollie returned to the Gresses’ house from the zoo, he greeted her in the parlor, dressed and sitting in a wing chair with his leg propped on a footstool.

  Surprised and delighted to see him up and about, Mollie tossed off her coat, scarf, and hat and hurried to his side.

  “Nick! You’re up!” She took his hand, bent down to kiss him, then perched on the corner of the footstool. “Y’all feel all right? Are you sure you should be out of bed?”

  He nodded and smiled, though his heart ached at the thought of the cold, lonely nights he knew stretched endlessly ahead of him. “I’m fine, Mollie,” he said with forced cheer. “Much better, in fact. Not light-headed any more. Karl came by earlier, pronounced me much improved. I think he still can’t get over your miracle moldy bread salve.” He flexed his knee a bit. “Leg’s still stiff, but the swelling’s down and the redness is all but gone. Even Ida and Willie Mae had to agree I’m on the mend.”

  “Oh, darling, I’m so glad! That’s wonderful news!” She looked around. “So where is everybody?”

  Nick sank back into the chair. “Ida took Marie Christmas shopping, and I made Miz Willie go have a bit of a sit-down for awhile. She’s been running herself around in circles tryin’ to do for me. Told her my eyeballs would start floating if she made me drink one more darned cup of willow bark tea.”

  “She loves you, Nick,” Mollie said affectionately. “Your whole family loves you, and so do I.” When he nodded and looked pensive, she simply waited, watching his eyes, knowing he would say what was on his mind in his own time.r />
  Finally he sighed. “Yes, I know it, Mollie, I know. And despite my grousing, I am grateful for it.” He pressed a kiss to her hand, smiled. “Now, tell me about your day.” He looked both worried and wistful as he asked, “Is all well at the zoo?”

  Mollie nodded. “All is very well, indeed, darling. In fact, Mose says if he’s not mistaken, Miss Peaches will likely be a mama come the beginning of March. I suppose we shall have to start calling her ‘Mrs. Peaches’.”

  Nick snapped to the alert. “Really? He’s sure? Is she eating well? He’s been giving her the liver oil, hasn’t he? Dang it, Mollie, I should be there to check on her!” His sudden impatience fairly rattled the air around him.

  “She’s fine, Nick. Try to be patient, now, darling. You’ll be back on the job in no time.”

  “Tomorrow,” he insisted. “Or the day after. No later. I’ve been down long enough!”

  Mollie started to argue, then decided there was little point. He would do what he wanted to do, and perhaps easing into his normal routine would improve his spirits, as long as he didn’t strain himself.

  “All right,” she said, and Nick raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “No argument?” he asked.

  “No, not if y’all promise to take better care of yourself and not overdo.”

  “Hmmph,” he grunted, but he reached out and took Mollie’s hand. Toying with it, stroking her palm with his thumb, he added, “I reckon that’s fair. Truth is, I’ve been thinking about making a few changes here and there.”

  Mollie cocked her head. “Oh? Such as?”

  “Well, first of all, I’m not going to renew my contract with the Animal Industries Bureau. It’s up for renewal on the first of January, but I’m going to let it go. There’s plenty of fellas can inspect dairies, and I’ve got no love for doing it, and that’s the truth.”

  “Yes, I see. Well, that’s a good idea, Nick,” Mollie said, considering. “But I worry that you’re still going to work yourself too hard, even if you aren’t doing inspections. After all, I see how much y’all do at the zoo, day after day. I love helping you, but you and I both know it’s not really enough, especially if you want to begin having some clinic hours at home.”

  “There’s no better assistant than you, Mollie,” Nick said, “and that’s a fact. But you’re right. The zoo’s growing, and it needs a second veterinary surgeon. I can see that. So,” he paused, took a long breath, “this morning I wrote to an old colleague, Bill Pepper, at the University of Pennsylvania Veterinary Department. Asked him if he has a promising graduate who’d like to work with zoo animals, maybe eventually work up to being a partner in the practice.”

  “You did? Oh, Nick, that’s wonderful!” Mollie all but jumped up to fling her arms around his neck. “You’d really let another doctor take on some of the work?”

  He took advantage of the hug to frame her face with his palms and kiss her. It was so sweet that his heart squeezed, and after a long minute he had to force himself to release her.

  Clearing his throat to compose his emotions, Nick lifted a shoulder and said, “Might. Depends if the fella knows a metatarsus from a metacarpus. Or even his backside from a box of bananas.”

  “He will,” Mollie laughed. “He wouldn’t dare face y’all if he didn’t.”

  “Well, just don’t you get him started naming the animals. Honestly, sweetheart, Peaches and Cream was bad enough, but now you got the hyena answering to Hoot and the camels to Humpty and Dumpty.”

  Mollie laughed, took his hand in hers, turned her head and kissed his palm. Then she lay her cheek against his hand and smiled. “I know it’s silly, but I can’t seem to help it. They have so much personality!”

  Nick smiled. “Yeah, it’s a little silly, but I reckon it shows your heart, and there’s none bigger, you ask me.”

  “You, suh,” Mollie said, rising to place a kiss on his lips, “are not an unbiased judge.”

  “Reckon I could study on it a bit more,” he admitted, and drew her into his lap. And as he pulled her close and took her mouth with his, his leg felt just fine.

  • • • • •

  In bed that night, Nick’s heart pounded with desperation. He reached for Mollie, drew her against him. “Mollie, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I need you, darlin’. Let me love you.”

  Mollie’s own desire was nearly as great, bringing tears to her eyes. “Oh, Nick, do we dare? What about your leg?”

  He shook his head, gave her a crooked smile. “Reckon it’s just gonna have to look the other way.” And before she could say another word, his mouth descended on hers in a hungry kiss that demanded, and gave, everything. They loved each other then as if there would be no tomorrow, for deep in their hearts, both knew nightmares could not be outrun for long.

  A long time later, Nick gently eased himself from Mollie. He bent down, kissed her with infinite tenderness, then turned away and began to climb out of bed to sleep in the wing chair. Mollie reached out, took his arm, staying him. He sighed so deeply his chest felt hollowed out. “Mollie, darlin’, it’s not safe,” he began, but she cut him off.

  Sitting up, wrapping her arms around him, she whispered, “Just for now, Nick. Just for tonight. Please, my love, just for tonight.”

  Finally, he nodded and held her against his heart. Closing his eyes, he silently prayed. Don’t let me hurt her. Please, God, don’t let me hurt her again.

  CHAPTER 20

  The following day dawned cloudy, threatening rain, but by midmorning the sun began to shine through the clouds in long, silver-white rays. Nestor, driving Magnolia with his own horse, Bluebell, tied behind the buggy, pulled the rig up at the end of the long drive in front of Nick’s and Mollie’s house.

  “Here we are, Mist’ Nick, Miz Mollie,” the boy said cheerfully.

  Mollie turned to Nick, saw him staring past her at the house as though he’d never seen it before. She began to worry her lower lip, knowing he’d been very quiet and pensive on the drive. Now she feared he was thinking she’d overstepped herself and been too presumptive with the changes to the house.

  “It-it needed a new coat of paint, so….” she began.

  “It’s beautiful,” Nick said. “I can hardly believe it’s the same old farmhouse.”

  He couldn’t seem to stop staring, drinking in the warmth and beauty of the old house. Pale, lemon-yellow paint gave an inviting warmth to the walls, and the shutters, window frames, trim, and doors were a deep, rich crimson. An evergreen tree, as yet undecorated, stood framed in the front parlor window, and a large wreath, festively adorned with pinecones and gold and silver ribbons, hung on the front door.

  Turning his gaze to Mollie, Nick said, his voice full of emotion, “You did this. You did all this, Mollie. Thank you.”

  Blushing, Mollie shook her head. “Oh no, I only did a bit, darlin’. Mostly I just tried to stay out of the way of George’s crew. They did nearly everything.”

  “Uh huh,” Nick said, but his tone clearly implied he didn’t believe her denial for a second. He knew Mollie well enough now to recognize her touch everywhere he looked.

  “But come on now,” she said eagerly, patting his arm. “Come and see what’s been done inside!”

  Nick swallowed. The last thing he wanted to see was his new monk’s cell, no matter how comfortably decorated it might be. But he could not disappoint Mollie, so he said, “Yes, of course,” and climbed stiffly from the buggy. He leaned on a walking stick as he reached up to assist her as she stepped down.

  Just then Nestor said, “Remember, Mist’ Nick, don’t y’all be hefting none of those bags. I’ll get’em to the house for you. And y’all watch your step, now. Ground’s still kinda muddy.”

  “Yeah, obliged, but we’re fine, Nestor,” Nick grunted. “Y’all didn’t need to go to all this trouble. I could’ve driven us home, you know.” When Mollie gave him a look, he added, “Nevertheless, I reckon I do ’preciate your help.”

  Mollie smiled, and taking Nick’s arm, walked up the
porch steps and into the house. Nestor followed with the bags, then left to stable Magnolia behind the house, nodding “Yes’m” as Mollie called after him to come in to eat before he left to ride Bluebell home.

  Nick helped Mollie with her coat and hat, hung them and his own on the hall tree. He followed her into the front parlor, then stopped dead in the doorway, stunned by the beauty of the room.

  Besides the fir tree in its pretty little stand of white and green painted wood, an evergreen garland laced with red and gold ribbon draped over the fireplace mantle. On either side of the fireplace stood two new, large, glass-fronted bookcases, filled with the books that had once lain scattered in stacks and piles about the house. A comfortable settee with pale gold upholstery and two matching wing chairs, each with its own footstool, faced the hearth in an inviting group. A round side table covered in a lace tablecloth held a pretty gas lamp, and a game table, inlaid with a decorative wooden checkerboard pattern, stood in the corner near the front window, out of the way of the Christmas tree.

  Mollie turned, clasping her hands a little nervously as she studied Nick’s face for his reaction. Slowly, he took a few steps into the room, then, without a word, simply reached out and took Mollie into his arms and held her to him, closing his eyes and laying his cheek against her hair.

  Sighing in relief, she sank against him, and they simply held each other, rocking a bit, for a long time. Finally, Mollie pulled back, gazed into Nick’s eyes. She was startled to see them misty with emotion.

  “Does this mean you like the changes?” she asked, only a little teasingly.

  “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Yeah, I do.” Blinking, clearing his throat, he gestured toward the hearth, where wood and kindling had been expertly stacked, ready to light.

  “Shall I, uh, ahem, shall I light the fire?”

  “Oh, yes, please! That way the room will be nice and warm when we return from our Grand Tour!”

  “The ‘Grand Tour’?” Nick echoed as he took a match from the tin on the mantle and hunkered down a bit stiffly to light the fire. He couldn’t help smiling at Mollie’s happiness. And in truth, thanks to his wife, his home now was so much more charming and inviting that he could almost put the miserable thought of separate bedrooms out of his mind. Almost.