Sara’s brow wrinkled. “Oh, Molly…I know I do try to matchmake, sometimes. But I want to see you happy again. Jackson thinks a lot of Steve. So do I, even though I haven’t known him long.”
Molly rose from her chair and strode to the window. Out on the road, a ranch hand on a horse the color of butterscotch rode by. “Do you know that Steve’s wife disappeared?”
“Yes, Jackson told me. Steve must have told you, then?”
Molly hugged her arms. “Yes, after lunch. He divorced her, but I get the feeling he’s not over her. And I told him about Buck’s accident. So, Steve’s not looking for a relationship. And neither am I.”
Sara walked to Molly’s side and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Okay, honey, I hear you. I want you to be happy, that’s all.”
“I am happy, Sara. Well, as happy as I can be, considering the circumstances.” She turned and offered Sara a smile. “Now, if you have some time, why don’t I show you this new program?”
****
When he arrived in Red Rock, Steve went to his hotel room where he sat at the table and checked his email and phone messages. He made a few notes then phoned his office in New York and spoke to his assistant, Beverly.
“Everything’s perking along,” she said in her cheery voice. “Oh, did Jerry tell you his big news?”
“He did. Pretty great, huh?”
“It is. You’re next, you know.”
Steve propped his elbows on the table and hugged the phone to his ear. “That’s what Jerry said. Are you two ganging up on me?”
Beverly laughed. “Maybe. My niece is coming to visit next month. She’s about your age. Can I tell her I have someone for her to meet?”
Steve sobered and his shoulders tensed. “We’ll see when the time comes,” he hedged.
After working for a couple hours, Steve shut down his computer. He’d done enough for one day. In the time remaining before dinner, he’d check around town to see if anyone had seen Angie. Yesterday, he hit a few of the establishments, showing her picture and explaining that she’d been seen in the vicinity as recently as last year. He described the distinctive butterfly and star tattoo on her left wrist. No one had any recollection of such a woman.
Once outside, he turned his steps toward the side of town he hadn’t covered the day before. He visited a hardware store, a pharmacy, and a women’s western clothing store, thinking especially the latter might be a place Angie would patronize. All he got for his efforts were head shakes and “Sorry, haven’t seen her.”
When dinnertime came, he gave up his search and headed for The Roundup, a restaurant Jackson recommended. The place was popular, with a line of people waiting for tables.
The hostess stepped forward to greet him. “There’s a counter for singles.”
“Sure.” He nodded and followed the direction she indicated.
Single. The word lodged in his brain as he slipped onto a stool at the counter. Yep, single was what he was. And yet the word sounded alien, somehow.
A waitress came by and handed him a plastic-covered menu. He ordered a steak, and when it arrived with a baked potato and tossed green salad, and the first bite melted in his mouth, he silently applauded the chef. Jackson was right—The Roundup was a good restaurant.
As he dug into his salad, his thoughts turned to this afternoon and Molly Henson. Was his imagination overactive or had something happened between them today? He didn’t see how anything could. She was as tied to the memory of her deceased husband as he was to his worries about Angie.
Still, he could swear they’d connected on a personal level. When he sat beside her in Sara’s office, attraction stirred inside him. The feeling reappeared after lunch when they were together on the porch.
He smiled to himself. He and Karli had sure hit it off, no doubt about that. But then, the little girl liked everyone. He shouldn’t put too much importance on her apparent interest.
Neither would he pursue any attraction between him and Molly. Starting something wouldn’t be fair to either of them, when he’d be leaving soon and returning to his life in New York.
Or, what if he found Angie? She might be in trouble and need his help. Even though divorced, he wanted to honor the promise he’d made her folks to look out for her.
Finished with his meal, Steve left a tip, paid his check, and stepped outside into the early evening. A refreshing breeze had tempered the day’s heat, and the walk back to the hotel promised to be pleasant.
He had traveled almost a block when a young woman looking in a variety store window caught his eye. She wore blue slacks and a blue print T-shirt. She stood with one hand resting on her hip, setting her body slightly off balance. His pulse quickened. Angie used to stand like that sometimes, too.
The woman was about Angie’s height, five-foot-five, and slender of build. When she turned and her profile came into view, another chord of familiarity jolted him. Her nose had the same curve as Angie’s, as did her rounded chin.
Whether or not she was his lost ex-wife depended on one bit of identification—the butterfly and star tattoo on her left wrist. If he could just catch a glimpse…
The woman turned from the window and began walking.
He hurried to catch up, dodging a man walking a dog and a group of cowboys lounging in front of a drugstore.
Although she didn’t turn around, she sped her pace.
Her movements indicated she knew she was being pursued. Caution niggled Steve. He didn’t want the woman to think he was a stalker. And yet he had to know if she was Angie.
Finally, he caught up. “Oh, miss?”
“Huh?” She stopped and turned, thrusting out her left arm in his direction.
His gaze traveled to her wrist. No tattoo. Then he looked at her face. She was so unlike Angie that he didn’t know how, even for a moment, he could have mistaken her for his former wife. Disappointment lumped in his stomach.
The woman propped her hands on her hips. “Were you talking to me?”
Hearing the woman’s haughty tone sent heat creeping up the back of his neck. “Sorry.” He made an apologetic wave. “I thought you were someone else.”
She raised her eyebrows, but then gave a curt nod and turned away.
As he headed back to his hotel, Steve gave himself a mental kick in the butt. He should’ve known better than to follow the woman, much less speak to her. This wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken. False “Angie-sightings” occurred more frequently than he liked to admit. He always got up his hopes, and he was always disappointed. Would he ever learn?
Still, the need to find his ex-wife and discover why she’d disappeared hounded him.
****
“Mommy, wake up.”
Karli’s voice drifted into Molly’s consciousness. She stirred and opened her eyes.
“The movie’s over.” Sitting beside her on the sofa, Karli tugged on Molly’s arm.
Molly rubbed her eyes. She straightened and focused on the TV screen, where the program’s credits were rolling. They’d been watching an animated movie featuring talking cars, and somewhere along the way, she fell asleep. She picked up the remote and ejected the DVD. “Sorry I fell asleep, honey. Did you watch it all?”
“Uh huh. So did Mr. Muggins.” Karli patted the doll’s head as he lay cradled in her arm.
Guilt nudged Molly. Mr. Muggins was better company than she was. She put the DVD in its plastic case then picked up the empty popcorn bowl. “Time for bed, darlin’. Go brush your teeth and pick out the story you want me to read.”
As she expected, the promise of a story prompted Karli to action. She hopped down from the sofa and headed for the bathroom. By the time Molly cleaned up the kitchen and went to Karli’s room, the child was in her pjs and searching her bookshelf for a story. She finally chose one they’d read so many times the pages were dog-eared.
Karli climbed into bed next to Mr. Muggins, already tucked in under the covers. She looked up at Molly. “Can Steve read me a bedtime story sometime?”<
br />
“No, honey.” Molly plumped up the pillow and settled beside Karli. “He won’t ever be here at your bedtime.”
“Some other time, then?”
Molly opened the book’s cover and turned to the first page. “I doubt it. He’s busy. Besides, he’s going home soon.”
“Where’s home?”
“Back in a big city called New York.”
Karli slapped the bedspread with her palm. “I don’t want him to go.”
Molly chewed her lip, struggling with how to handle the unusual situation. Karli liked other males she’d come in contact with—her Uncle Harlan, and Jackson, and Dr. Mike—but she’d never grown as attached to any as she had to Steve Roper.
Laying down the book, she smoothed Karli’s bangs. “He can’t stay here, honey. He’s only visiting. People go places to visit, and then they go home.”
“Like our home was Chicago?”
“Yes, it was, but we moved, and now we live here at the Rolling R. This is home.” She made a wave that included the room.
“Maybe Steve could move here.”
Karli’s brow wrinkled, as though she were struggling to understand the ways of adults.
Molly sighed. “No, Karli, that’s not in his plans. Let’s read our story now, okay?” Without waiting for Karli’s consent, she picked up the book. “Once upon a time…”
After Karli fell asleep, Molly returned to the living room. A sitcom played on the silenced TV. She picked up the television guide and glanced at the evening’s programs. Even though the satellite dish provided many choices, nothing interested her. She put down the guide and switched off the set.
Walking to the fireplace, she picked up the first in a line of framed photos she’d arranged on the mantel soon after moving in. The photo showed her and Buck on their wedding day, standing in front of the country church. She wore a short-skirted dress of traditional white and held a bouquet of daisies.
Buck wore a dark blue suit. Their wedding was the only time she’d seen him so dressed up. She called him “spectacular,” and he said she was “the prettiest gal he’d ever seen.” Not exactly original, but said with heartfelt love.
For a moment, she held the photo to her heart, and then replaced it on the mantel and picked up the next one. In this picture, she and Buck sat on the sofa with a newborn Karli cradled in Molly’s arms. Half a dozen more photos, all of her and Buck and Karli, were in the group. Her family. She held and studied each one, savoring the memories until tears crowded her eyes.
The house suddenly closed in. She left the photos and went outside onto the porch. A warm evening breeze fluttered the leaves of the aspen trees, and bright stars filled the clear sky. She walked to the edge of the porch and, holding on to the wooden post by the steps, looked up. She and Buck used to stargaze a lot, especially before they were married. He proposed under the stars. They’d known each other only two weeks. She said yes without a moment’s hesitation. Deep in her soul, she’d known she wanted to spend her life with him.
Molly moved down the steps and along the path toward the road, intending to take a short walk in the moonlight before going to bed. The sweet smell of hay tickled her nose. A horse whinnied, an owl hooted—familiar and comforting sounds.
Usually. Tonight, she wasn’t so sure.
Maybe the Rolling R wasn’t to be their home, after all. Maybe she and Karli should have stayed in Chicago with Paige and Harlan. She was lonely here. Sara and Jackson weren’t to blame. They’d done their best to make her feel welcome. No, her loneliness was her own longing, the emptiness in her heart since Buck’s death. When he died, he took a part of her with him.
Molly gazed up at the stars again. Oh, Buck, are you up there somewhere, looking down on Karli and me? Why did you leave us? Why did you have to take that last ride?
****
“You can’t live on a ranch without learning how to ride a horse.” Jackson propped his hands on his hips and leveled Molly a stern look. “Horseback riding goes with the territory.”
Molly sat back in her desk chair and folded her arms. “I still think Karli’s too young.” And I’m afraid she’ll fall off and hurt herself.
Jackson had stopped by Molly’s office to suggest they all go for a horseback ride on Sunday afternoon. Molly was glad Karli was at Teresa’s and that she and Jackson could discuss the matter by themselves.
Jackson took a couple steps closer. “Ryan’s two years younger than Karli, and he already has his own pony.”
Molly wrinkled her brow and turned to gaze out the window. She focused on the distant mountains, what she could see of them between the trees sheltering the office. She hated to say no, but her insides quivered at the thought of her little girl on horseback. She turned back to Jackson. “I don’t know…”
“Come on, Molly.” Jackson pushed back his Stetson and rubbed his forehead. “Karli will keep nagging until you let her try. She might not like riding as much as she thinks she will, and one ride might be all she’ll ever take.”
Jackson was right, about the nagging, anyway. Karli had talked of little else for the past couple of days. She wouldn’t let the matter go, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was stubborn. Like I am. The trait came in handy sometimes, but also could be oh-so-annoying.
Molly uncrossed her arms and sat tall. “Okay, but no pony. She can ride in the saddle with me.” Then I can keep a good grip on her and make sure she doesn’t fall off.
Jackson’s face broke into a grin. “No problem. That’s the same way Ryan started.”
Molly waited until Sunday morning after breakfast to tell Karli the news.
“Yay!” Karli yelled, and jumped up and down with glee.
As they prepared for the outing, Sara and Ryan arrived. Molly opened the screen door and motioned them inside.
Sara carried a cloth shopping bag, which she handed to Molly. “Here’s something for the big occasion.”
Molly opened the bag, releasing the pleasant aroma of new leather. She reached inside and pulled out a pair of child’s cowboy boots. They were red, and decorated with scrolls and curlicues. Molly smiled and held out the boots to Karli. “Look what Aunt Sara brought you.”
“Wow.” As she reached for the boots, Karli’s eyes grew big.
Sara sat on the sofa and lifted Ryan onto her knee. “There’s a hat, too.”
“Hat, hat,” Ryan echoed, waving his hands.
Molly plunged her arm into the bag again and retrieved a cowboy hat with a jaunty red feather. She placed the hat on Karli’s head, tucking back her curls. A perfect fit.
Molly and Karli joined Sara and Ryan on the sofa. Karli slipped off her athletic shoes and pushed her feet into the boots. They fit perfectly, too. Molly wished Buck could be here to see their daughter in her Western outfit. He’d be so proud.
Molly’s heart filled with affection for her friend, and her throat tightened. “You are so thoughtful, Sara. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Auntie Sara,” Karli echoed, settling her hat more firmly on her head.
“You’re welcome, honey.” Sara pointed to the bag sitting on the floor. “There’s one more thing, and it’s for you, Molly.”
“For me?” Molly reached into the bag yet again and pulled out another cowboy hat. Of tan leather, it had a green and gold ribbon around the crown. She stared at the hat as waves of nostalgia rolled over her.
“The hat’s yours.” Sara’s smile lit up her face. “You left it here.”
Molly ran a forefinger along the hat’s ribbon. The brown leather was cool and supple under her touch. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Buck gave it to me. Before we were married.” Her eyes burned with tears.
“Oh, Molly.” Sara’s eyes clouded, and she pressed her fingers to her lips. “I didn’t know…I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay.” Molly ducked her head to swipe a fist at her wet cheeks. Then she straightened her spine and took a deep breath. “Of course, I want the hat, and I’ll wear it today. Having it again will make m
e feel close to him.” She smoothed back her hair and put on the hat. Leaning close, she gave Sara a hug. “Thank you. You are the most thoughtful person I know.”
Sara brushed a tear from her eye. “You’re welcome. We so much want you to be happy here.”
“I know.” Molly drew away and turned to Karli. She’d left the sofa and was strutting around in her new boots. Good, she hadn’t noticed her mother’s and her auntie’s tears. “Okay, darlin’, let’s go get ‘em!”
****
Gripping Karli’s hand, Molly stepped inside the stable. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust from the bright sunlight to the dimmer interior.
Sara and Ryan, who entered behind them, stopped at one of the stalls to say hello to the horse inside. The animal nickered and shifted, rustling the hay underneath its hooves.
Halfway down the aisle, Jackson saddled a horse. Two other horses, already saddled, stood nearby. At Molly’s approach, he looked up.
“Recognize Barney?” Jackson patted the horse’s rump.
Molly tilted her head and studied Barney, a cinnamon color with a white streak along his nose. “Yeah, I do. Hey, Barney.” She touched the animal’s nose, remembering him as a gentle animal. Jackson made a good choice for her and Karli’s first ride.
Karli tugged Molly’s arm. “Can I pet him, too?”
“Sure, honey.” Molly lifted Karli so she could run her hand along the horse’s snout.
“He’s soft.” Karli gave the horse a final pat before withdrawing her hand.
Karli’s apparent lack of fear relieved Molly’s tension. For all of her daughter’s enthusiasm, Molly had half expected her to change her mind, once the ride became a reality.
As Molly lowered Karli to the floor, she spotted movement at the end of the aisle from the corner of her eye. She turned just as a man carrying a saddle and reins emerged from the tack room. At first, she thought he was one of Jackson’s ranch hands, but then she realized the man was Steve Roper. Molly’s heart rocketed against her ribcage. She hadn’t expected him to be a part of their outing.
Today, he’d shed his city persona and was all decked out in jeans, a plaid, western-style shirt, and cowboy boots. A new-looking Stetson sat on his head at a jaunty angle.
Marrying Molly Page 6