Marrying Molly

by Linda Hope Lee

  Steve ruffled Karli’s hair. “That would be fun, but maybe your mom needs help fixing dinner.” He gave a short laugh and pointed to his injured arm. “Not that I’d be much help.”

  Molly shook her head. “I’ll be fine. You two go on and play. How about the Chinese Checkers Auntie Sara gave you?”

  “Yes, yes.” Karli clapped her hands and ran to the storage closet for the game.

  In the kitchen, Molly opened the refrigerator’s freezer compartment. Yes, the steaks she’d bought last weekend were still there. Should she change her menu and thaw them in the microwave? No, she’d planned to have macaroni and cheese, and she’d stick to that decision. She shut the freezer and walked to the cupboard to retrieve the package of pasta.

  The meal was easy to prepare. She added a tossed salad and peas to round out the menu. Soon, they were seated at the kitchen table. Judging by the two generous helpings Steve ate, he hadn’t been lying about macaroni and cheese being a favorite.

  When they finished eating, Steve and Karli continued their game, while Molly took care of the dishes. As she cleaned up, she listened to the sounds of their talk and laughter floating in from the living room. Steve’s presence always created an emotional tug-of-war. She was glad to see Karli having a good time. Anything that made her child happy also made her happy.

  But Steve was in their lives only temporarily. Molly pressed a hand to her stomach. If Karli became attached to him, she’d be devastated when he left. Letting this relationship go on wasn’t fair to her child.

  But what to do about it?

  Molly finished her chores, dried her hands on a terrycloth towel, and joined them in the living room.

  The two sat on the floor, the Chinese Checkers board between them, and the marbles scattered about the carpet.

  Karli looked up at Molly and clapped her hands. “I won, Mommy. I won.”

  “You sure did.” Steve wagged a finger at Karli. “This kid is good.”

  Molly sank into a nearby chair. “She likes to win. Just like her dad. He liked to win, too.” She glanced at Steve and Karli, to see if they’d heard her, but they were busy sorting the marbles. Just as well. Leaning forward, she said, “Time to put away the game, Karli. It’s your bedtime.”

  “I want to play one more.” Karli captured a marble that had rolled away from the others. “Steve does, too. Don’tcha?”

  Karli gave him one of her coaxing smiles. Ready for an argument, Molly set her jaw.

  “I do,” Steve said, with an answering smile, “but not tonight. I’ll take a raincheck.” He scooped up the pile of red marbles and let them roll off his hand into the net bag that Karli held.

  Karli’s brow knit. “Raincheck, what’s that?”

  “That means we’ll play again another time.”

  “Does it have to be when it’s raining?”

  Steve tossed back his head and laughed. “No, it’s a figure of speech.”

  When Karli continued to look puzzled, Molly said, “It’s something grownups say.”

  Karli grinned and added a couple black marbles to the bag as Steve held it out. “I can be grown up.”

  “You certainly can.” Steve jiggled the bag to settle the marbles. “So we’ll both take a raincheck.”

  “Okay, but can you read me a story tonight?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so—” Molly scooted to the edge of her chair.

  “You mean a bedtime story?” Steve nodded. “That’d be cool. When I’m home, I read to my niece and nephew.”

  “So can you read one to me, Steve?” Karli scooted closer to him.

  Steve placed the game board and bag of marbles into their cardboard box. “I gotta say again, it’s up to your mom.”

  Molly wanted to say “no.” She needed to put some space between both her and Karli and Steve. But, from the expectant look on Karli’s face, she would be terribly disappointed if Molly refused her request. “Okay, but it has to be a short one. I’m sure Steve has other things to do this evening.”

  Steve stood and held out his hand to Karli. “Maybe so. But nothing I’d rather do.”

  Chapter Nine

  After Karli was tucked into bed, Molly pulled up a chair for Steve to sit in while he read the story Karli had chosen. She stood to one side, uncertain whether to pull up another chair for herself and listen, too, or to retreat into the living room. She finally grabbed a chair and joined them, but resentment kept her back rigid. She, not Steve, should be the one reading to Karli. Yet, when Karli giggled at his deep-voiced imitation of the wolf character, Molly had to admit he was a good storyteller. She relaxed and leaned back against the chair.

  At last, Steve finished the story.

  They all said “goodnight,” and Molly turned out the bedside light, leaving the teddy bear nightlight glowing from an outlet near the floor. She led him into the living room. “That was nice, Steve. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Molly waited for him to say he had to leave, but instead he asked, “So, what do you usually do after Karli’s in bed?”

  She shrugged. “Read, watch TV.” Be lonely. “You, ah, probably have work to do.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve done enough for today. Suppose I’d better get back to the main house. I hate to intrude on Sara and Jackson’s evening, though. I could watch the TV in my room…” He cast her a sideways glance. “Unless you want some company while watching your programs.”

  Molly pretended to study her fingernails. She preferred to be alone, but she didn’t want to be rude. “You’re welcome to stay,” she said, gesturing to the sofa.

  A smile spread across his lips. “Thanks. I will.”

  She went to the kitchen and poured them cups of coffee. They sat on the sofa and consulted the TV schedule, settling on a popular sitcom. With Steve so near, Molly’s senses were on high alert, and concentrating on the program proved difficult. Once, when they both leaned forward to pick up their cups from the coffee table, their elbows bumped. She jerked back, but her finger was already hooked around the cup’s handle, and some of the liquid sloshed onto the table.

  Steve moved his cup from the spreading puddle. “I’ll get something to wipe that up.”

  Before she could protest, he sprang to his feet. He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a handful of paper towels.

  “You want a refill?” he asked, as he swiped the towels over the spill. “I can manage one-handed.”

  “I have enough left, thanks.” Molly rubbed her forehead. He wasn’t supposed to be cleaning up her mess. How had she gotten into this awkward situation?

  Later, after they’d watched yet another program, he looked at his wristwatch. “Hey, how’d it get so late? I’d better take off.”

  Molly gave an inward sigh of relief.

  They both stood. The front door was only a few steps away, but, remembering her manners concerning guests, Molly led him there. “Thanks again for fixing my computer glitch,” she said as she opened the door.

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for fixing my lunch. And for dinner.” He took a step over the threshold, but stopped and turned. “And for driving me to my appointment in Denver.”

  Molly widened her eyes. Had she heard correctly? “What are you talking about?”

  His brow wrinkled. “Sara didn’t tell you?”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  “She said you’d drive me into Denver on Wednesday.”

  “Oh, really?” Molly folded her arms. How was she supposed to do her work and be a chauffeur?

  “I told Sara not to take you away from your job, but she insisted she could spare you.” His hand rubbed over his chin. “If you’d rather not, I’ll hire someone.”

  She unfolded her arms and pushed out her hands in protest. “No, no, I’ll drive you. After all, your accident was my fault—”

  With a shake of his head, he held up his forefinger. “Don’t go there, Molly. My accident wasn’t your fault. Or Karli’s. I keep telling you that.”

  “Bu
t—”

  “No ‘but’s.’ I’ll be fine. My work will be fine. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Steve’s brown eyes gleamed.

  He was much too close. She wanted to step back, but before she could, he slid his finger under her chin and tipped up her head.

  “Molly?”

  When she looked up and met his heated gaze, corresponding warmth spun through her. Her heart thudded, her breath faltered.

  He stepped closer, while she stood rooted to the spot. The air sizzled. His lips parted and his warm breath slid over her cheek.

  Run, Molly!

  Too late. His lips closed over hers, softly, yet firmly. She leaned into him and felt his heart beating underneath his shirt, felt the heat of his body, breathed in his masculine scent.

  He rested his hand on her shoulder, while their lips engaged in a familiar dance, yet as new and exciting as though she’d never experienced it before.

  Sliding his hand down her back, he drew her closer. His lips pressed against hers, his tongue roving, seeking access to her mouth.

  “Mommy.”

  Molly jolted to her senses. Karli. Something was wrong. Karli needed her. She pushed away from Steve. “It’s Karli. I—I have to go to her.”

  Steve dropped his arm from around her waist. “I’ll come, too.”

  “No,” she called over her shoulder, already halfway across the living room.

  In the bedroom, Molly hurried through the nightlight’s glow to the bed. “Are you all right? I heard you call.”

  Karli looked up, her eyes shadowed in the soft light, her chin quivering. “I woke up and was scared.”

  Molly leaned over and gathered Karli into a hug. She was sleep-warm and smelled faintly of her strawberry-flavored toothpaste. “It’s okay, darlin’. Maybe you were having a bad dream.”

  “I don’t know. Is Steve here?”

  “He’s just leaving.” He should have been out the door a long time ago.

  “Can I see him?”

  “No, honey. He has to go back to the main house, and you need to go back to sleep.” She held Karli a moment longer then eased her down to the pillow. “I’ll be back in a minute and lie down with you for a while. Mr. Muggins will keep you company until then, okay?” She patted the doll lying on the pillow next to Karli.

  “’Kay.”

  She tucked the covers around Karli’s chin then returned to the living room.

  Steve had closed the door and was leaning against it. Worry lines puckered his brow. “Is she all right?”

  Not wanting to risk being near him again, Molly stopped in the middle of the room. “She’s fine. Probably a bad dream.”

  “I’m glad she’s okay…but what about you?” He straightened. “I’m sorry about—”

  Molly glanced over her shoulder toward Karli’s room, unable to shake her concern for her daughter. “Don’t apologize, Steve. Let’s move on, okay?”

  “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

  I don’t know what I want, except I need you to leave now. “It’s getting late.”

  “I’ll be on my way.” He reached for the doorknob then stopped. “We’re still on for Wednesday?”

  The reminder of her additional job assignment brought new tension to Molly’s already frayed nerves. “Of course. Why would we not be? Sara’s orders.” Her tone was sharp, but she was past caring.

  “Right, Sara’s orders. Goodnight, then.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Molly scarcely took time to make sure the door had closed securely behind Steve before she hurried back to Karli’s room. She was fast asleep, but Molly lay down beside her anyway. This was where she belonged, at her daughter’s side, taking care of her, watching over her. Not falling into Steve’s arms. Or into the arms of any man. She and Karli would do fine on their own.

  ****

  Steve headed down the asphalt road to Sara and Jackson’s house. Preoccupied with thoughts of Molly, he barely noticed the blue-black, star-studded sky arcing above, or the warm breeze stirring the leaves of the aspen trees.

  All evening—okay, all day—he’d fought his attraction. He managed to keep his feelings under control until those last moments at her door, when he turned and there she was, only inches away. So close he could count the freckles sprinkled across her nose. So close he could smell her sweet perfume. So close that, with a slight dip of his head, he could press his lips against hers.

  The temptation was too great. He wasn’t disappointed. Her lips were soft and warm and pliant, and her body molded into his as though made for that purpose. Yep, the kiss had more than fulfilled his fantasies.

  Steve huffed a breath and shoved his hand into his pocket. Becoming involved with Molly was a bad idea. There was no future for them. As soon as his arm healed, he’d be off to New York, far away from the Rolling R. Far away from the little white house where Molly and Karli lived.

  Still, didn’t he have feelings for Molly? Okay, but he was drawn to her because they had something in common. They’d both lost their spouses. He felt sorry for her. He’d been sorry for Angie, too. That was one reason he’d proposed. And look where that had led.

  The barn and the main house came into view. In anticipation of seeing Jackson and Sara, he straightened his shoulders and cleared his thoughts. As he entered the house’s back door, sounds of the TV drifted in from the living room. He stepped to the doorway and peeked inside.

  Jackson and Sara were snuggled together on the leather sofa. Sara had her head on Jackson’s shoulder, and he had his arm around her. Both were asleep, looking contented and peaceful.

  They were one of the happiest couples he knew. They deserved their happiness, too, both having been through a series of trials and heartaches before finally getting together.

  Still, seeing them wrapped in each other’s arms brought a bitter taste to Steve’s mouth. He couldn’t help envying Jackson his stable home, his loving wife, and his precious son. Everything he’d hoped to have for himself when he married Angie. But their marriage had been wrong from the beginning.

  He turned away and headed for the stairs. In his room, the air smelled a bit stuffy, so he crossed the floor and opened the window. A stream of cool, night air drifted in. He gazed at the glittering stars and then at the road curling behind the house, the one he’d just traveled. Molly’s house was too far away to see, but he thought he glimpsed a light from one of the windows shining through the thick foliage. Then a breeze shifted the trees and the light disappeared.

  Chapter Ten

  Steve sat next to Molly in the front seat of his rental car as they headed down the highway to Denver. She hadn’t said more than two sentences since they’d left the ranch. Her silence, plus the set of her shoulders and the grim line of her mouth, left no doubt how she felt about her new duty as his chauffeur.

  He gazed at the barren landscape, so different from the greenery he was used to seeing in New York, and then glanced at the speedometer. The needle hovered at almost ten miles over the posted limit. “Um, aren’t you going a little fast?”

  She frowned and pointed to the dashboard clock. “You said your appointment’s at ten. It’s nine now.”

  “Okay, but the last time I made the trip, the drive took only an hour. We’ve been on the road for nearly thirty minutes. We’ll be okay.”

  “Whatever.” She shrugged. “But don’t blame me if you’re late.”

  “I won’t.”

  She pulled her foot off the gas and waited until the car slowed to the speed limit before applying pressure again.

  He briefly closed his eyes then gazed out the window. He didn’t need this stress. For his future appointments, he’d hire someone else. Molly could stay on the ranch, working in the bakery, where she belonged.

  As they neared the city, traffic thickened, which raised a new worry about reaching his appointment on time. “The traffic will be bad when we get downtown.”

  “I can handle it. I’m from Chicago, remember? And we’ve got the GPS
to help us find the Hanes Building.” She pointed to the device affixed to the dashboard.

  “Right. Okay, let’s review the procedure. You’ll deliver Sara’s samples while I’m at my appointment.” He nodded toward the back seat, where boxes of cookies and muffins from Sara’s bakery rested on the floor.

  “That’s the plan. Jorgens’ store is on the other side of town, but I’ll have, what, an hour before I need to pick you up again?”

  He checked his wristwatch. “Make it an hour and a half. That should give us both plenty of time. The corner where I want you to drop me off is coming up.” He lifted his briefcase from the floor and slung the strap over his shoulder.

  “I see it.”

  The traffic light changed to yellow. Molly barreled on through.

  Steve squeezed his eyes shut, his body tensed. When he opened his eyes again, they were in the inside lane.

  Molly switched on the right-turn blinker.

  No one in the solid wall of cars was polite enough to let them slide over to the curb lane. Pulling up to the front of the Hanes Building wasn’t going to happen. “You can drop me at the next corner.” Steve pointed ahead.

  “No, I’ll go around the block.”

  Which wasn’t an easy task, given the next street was one way going in the opposite direction. More traffic lights, more cars unwilling to yield their territory.

  Two trips around the block later, they pulled up to the curb by the Hanes Building.

  “Thanks much.” Steve leaned over to open the door with his left hand. As he got out, his briefcase swung, pulling sideways, but he managed to keep his balance and land on his feet. “See you later,” he called and breathed a sigh of relief as he shut the door.

  He planned to wait until she merged back into traffic, but she frowned and waved him on. Reluctantly, he turned his back on her and his rental car and headed through the passing pedestrians to the glass double doors leading into the Hanes Building.

  Inside, refreshingly quiet after the noise of the city, he crossed the marble-floored entry to the elevators, where he joined a group waiting for the next car going up.