Her brow puckered. “I’m…sorry.”
A bitter taste filled his mouth. Sorry. That was all she could say? That she was sorry? Anger churned inside Steve. He wanted to yell and rant. He wanted her to suffer as much as he had. Then he reminded himself she wasn’t the Angie who’d been his wife. The “community”—whatever that was—had surely brainwashed her.
Moments passed with no sound but the rustle of aspen leaves and the dog’s whimpers. Then a shout pierced the woods, like a shot from a cannon. “Miriam! Miriam!”
Alarm flickered across her face. “I have to go.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said dully, kicking at the underbrush.
“Good-bye, Steve.”
“Good-bye, Angie.”
What else was there to say? He’d asked his questions, and she’d answered them. What had he expected? That she’d rush into his arms, begging him to rescue her, the way he’d rescued her before? Was that what he wanted?
The dog leading the way, she plunged into the underbrush. After a few steps, she stopped and turned. A light flickered in her eyes, and, for a moment, he thought she’d changed her mind and wanted to go with him. Shoulder muscles taut, breath suspended, he waited.
Right before disappearing into the woods, she said, “My name is Miriam.”
Chapter Nineteen
Back on the freeway, Steve clenched his teeth and gripped the steering wheel until his fingers ached. His mind played again and again the scene with Angie. She claimed she couldn’t live up to his expectations and be the wife he wanted. Okay, so maybe he’d had expectations. He’d also given her a good life, including a beautiful home and whatever she wanted that money could buy. He’d shared all the perks that went with his success.
Instead, she chose to live on a run-down farm with a bunch of hippies. She had her metalworking craft, but she could’ve had that in New York, with him. He was the one who’d sent her to school and paid for her training.
Still, she claimed she was okay and where she wanted to be. He should leave her here.
Who was he kidding? Other than kidnapping her, what choice did he have? His gut churned, frustration eating at him.
Now what should he do? Could he pick up the pieces of his broken life and move on at last? What about Molly? Was there any way he could put their relationship back together? The night he discovered Molly’s deception, he’d stormed off. He acted in haste, he realized now. If he apologized and asked her forgiveness, could they work things out?
Aching to hear her voice, Steve pulled off the road and reached for his cell phone. He stared at the phone in the dying light, fingering the buttons, pausing on the one that would connect him to Molly.
But his mind wouldn’t focus on what to say. His thoughts swirled and churned like the mighty Rolling River the day he’d fallen into it. Finally, he tossed down the phone and wheeled back onto the road.
****
Molly sat on the sofa in her living room, her gaze darting to the phone and then away again. As she had each night since their painful parting, she waited for a phone call from Steve. A call that never came.
When eleven o’clock rolled around, she turned out the lights and climbed in bed. She lay there with a heavy heart. Had he found Angie? Had he talked to her? Did she want to come back to him?
If so, Molly would have to accept that. She’d have to forget about Steve and concentrate on her life here at the Rolling R. Concentrate on her job. Most important of all, concentrate on raising Karli.
All the logic did nothing to ease the ache that had spread from her heart to every corner of her body.
Oh, Steve, please call. I need to hear your voice and to know you care for me the way I care for you.
****
The following morning, Steve was ready to head out for breakfast when his cell phone rang. He pulled the phone from his belt and answered the call.
“Steve speaking.”
“Hey, buddy.” Jackson’s deep voice echoed in Steve’s ear. “I know it’s early, but I wanted to catch you before you started your work day.”
”Good timing. I was just on my way to breakfast.” Steve took a few steps back into the room.
“I won’t keep you long, but how’ve you been? Haven’t seen you around for a few days.”
“I’ve been busy.” Jackson was a good friend, but Steve didn’t want to tell him about Angie. Not now, when he still had decisions to make.
“Yeah, I’m sure you have. Everything going well?”
“Real good. I’ve set up a couple more accounts.” He glanced at the round table, where the paperwork waited, a task he planned to do after breakfast.
”Have you decided when you’ll be returning to New York?”
Steve raised his gaze to the window. In the distance, an airplane cruised against the clear blue sky, and sudden homesickness gripped him. “I haven’t set a date yet, but I can’t stay here too much longer.”
“Sara and I would like to get together with you at least one more time before you leave.”
The thought of seeing Sara and Jackson again brought a smile to his lips. “That goes for me, too. Did you have something specific in mind?”
“Yeah, there’s a party at the grange Friday night. Buffet dinner, music, and dancing. Why don’t you join us? Come out to the house and we’ll all go together.”
A party at the grange? Would Molly be there? Steve’s stomach tightened. “I, ah, suppose I could…”
“Hey, I’m not hearing a lot of enthusiasm. If you’d rather not, don’t feel obligated.”
Steve automatically raised a staying hand. “No, no, I want to see you. But—”
“You want to know if Molly will be there, too.”
“I really messed that up.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Too long a story to go into right now. But, yeah, is she coming?”
“She’ll be there. Maybe that will be a good thing.”
“Maybe.” But showing up at the Phillips’ beforehand might be awkward. “Why don’t I meet you at the grange hall?”
“Works for me. I’ll give you directions, and we’ll look for you. Party starts at seven.”
A few minutes later, Steve hung up, shaking his head. Was he making a big mistake? Or was there still a chance he and Molly could get together?
On Friday night, the dashboard clock registered eight o’clock when Steve pulled into the grange hall’s parking lot. His late arrival wasn’t because he’d put off making the trip. He really had been busy tying up loose ends with his accounts. By the time he put away his equipment and changed his clothes, the time was already well past seven.
He still hadn’t decided exactly what he would do when he saw Molly. Should he apologize? Suggest they start over? Tell her about his meeting with Angie?
Still undecided, he parked and got out of the car. Lights spilled from the hall’s windows and the open door. A country-western tune, mixed with talk and laughter, drifted along air that smelled of hay and wildflowers. He wished he were more in a party mood, but the circumstances kept his stomach churning.
He climbed the steps and crossed the porch to the open door. Reluctant to enter, he stopped on the threshold. How would Molly react when she saw him? Did she even know he was coming? Maybe he should have called her and arranged to meet in another setting.
No, this was the best way for them to reconnect. With people around, they wouldn’t get into any heavy discussion. Serious talk could come later.
He scanned the crowd looking for Molly. He didn’t see her, but he spotted Jackson and Sara standing with some others by the buffet table. Joining them might be a good first move.
As he stepped inside, his gaze roved the dance floor—and landed on a red-haired woman. His stomach jolted. Molly. No one had red hair quite like hers. Tonight, instead of her usual ponytail, she wore her hair loose, the way he liked it best.
To get a look at her partner, he angled his head, but the man’s cowboy hat hid much of his face. Then he twirled Molly around and under h
is arm, and Steve glimpsed his features.
He stiffened. Her partner was Jackson’s horse trainer, Dirk Lamont. Yet why should that be so surprising? Dirk had paid special attention to Molly at the Phillips’ barbecue, and Steve had spotted him hanging around the bakery’s office a time or two.
Dirk pulled Molly back into his arms, close to his chest. She looked up at him, and they both laughed, as though they were having a great time.
Steve’s throat tightened, and he stepped back into the shadows. He watched and waited. When the song ended, instead of returning to their seats, Dirk and Molly stood on the dance floor talking. When the music started again, he took her into his arms for another dance.
Steve curled his fingernails into his palms. He wanted to march out to the dance floor and claim Molly. Dirk had no right. Dirk wasn’t the man for her.
Then, as the minutes passed, Steve calmed and thought more rationally. He’d been planning to take Molly away from the Rolling R and introduce her to his life in the city. He’d been ready to give her the house in the suburbs, the social life, and the money he enjoyed as a successful businessman.
But, just as Angie hadn’t wanted that kind of life, maybe Molly didn’t want it, either. He tried to mold Angie into his idea of a wife, and that hadn’t worked. Wasn’t he now planning to do the same thing with Molly?
When they first met, Molly told him she returned to the Rolling R because she wanted to raise Karli where she and Buck had made their home. Did Steve have the right to suggest she change her plans?
Maybe Dirk was the man for her, after all. He appeared to be a nice enough guy. Steve had nothing against him. He’d probably make Molly a good husband and Karli a good dad. If not Dirk, then someone else would eventually come along, someone with the kind of lifestyle Molly wanted.
And yet, as he watched her waltzing around the room in Dirk’s arms, he wanted to rush to her side and claim her for himself. Gathering every ounce of his willpower, he turned in the opposite direction and made his way through the crowd and to the door.
As he left the building and headed for the parking lot, he half-expected to hear Jackson, or Sara, or even Molly call his name and summon him back.
The only sound was the music. The words floated out, something about “lost love.” An appropriate send-off, he thought, as he climbed into his car.
****
As Dirk led Molly back to her seat, a tingle traveled down her spine. She could swear Steve was nearby. Since she’d learned he was coming tonight, her nerves had been on edge.
When Sara first suggested Molly attend the dance, she declined. She was too upset and distressed over Steve to think of going anywhere, least of all to a dance. But Sara persisted, as only Sara could, and Molly gave in.
On the way to the grange hall, Jackson dropped his news that Steve would be at the party, too. Molly wanted to be angry with him for not telling her earlier, but kept her emotions in check. Jackson and Sara knew something had happened between her and Steve, but, thankfully, they respected her privacy and hadn’t pressed her to confide in them.
“Sure you don’t want to go ‘round again?”
Dirk’s voice cut into Molly’s thoughts. She looked up and saw a sparkle in his eyes that indicated more than casual interest. She’d suspected he was pursuing her. Too bad her interest in him went no further than friendship.
She laid a hand on his arm. “I think my feet need to rest for a while. But thanks, Dirk. You’re a good dancer.”
“Same goes for you.” He patted her hand. “I’ll catch you later, then.”
They reached the table where Molly sat with Sara and Jackson and two other couples. Molly slipped into her chair, and Dirk headed for his seat at another table.
The feeling Steve was nearby whispered over Molly again. She scanned the room but didn’t see him. Yet, as though an invisible cord connected them, she sensed his presence. She leaned toward Sara. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. Be right back.”
“Okay, hon.” Sara’s brow wrinkled. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just gotta go.”
Instead of heading for the restrooms, Molly veered off toward the hall’s front door. A large group blocking the way slowed her progress, but she finally stepped through the door and onto the porch. A rush of warm night air brushed her cheeks as she peered into the growing darkness. Clouds covered the moon, and only a few dim night lights hovered over the parking lot.
The sound of a car’s engine rose above the band’s music. She located the car as it headed out of the lot toward the main road. She couldn’t be positive, but the car looked like Steve’s rental.
When she returned to the hall, her earlier sense of Steve’s presence had vanished. Emptiness filled Molly, as though she’d lost something very precious.
****
Monday morning, Molly sat at her desk in the bakery’s office, working on the monthly accounting. Sara had gone into town, and Lupe and Doreen were busy in the kitchen. Bits of their conversation drifted into the office, along with the enticing aroma of shortbread cookies.
“Molly,” a deep voice said.
She looked up to see Steve standing in the doorway. Pulse racing, she gulped a breath and pressed a hand to her chest. After wanting so badly to see him, now that he was actually in her presence, she was tongue-tied.
He took a step into the room then stopped. “Got a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you.”
At his serious tone, her heart skipped a beat. “Well…sure. Sit down.” She motioned to the chair across from her desk.
He sank into the chair and met her gaze. “I came to tell you I’m returning to New York tomorrow.”
Her stomach lurched, and Molly wrapped her arms around her middle. “Time to go home, huh?” She struggled to keep her voice light.
He nodded. “I’ve been gone longer than I intended, and I need to get back.”
Molly wanted to yell, “Don’t go!” She wanted to jump up, run around the desk, and throw her arms around him. Kiss him with all her heart and soul. Make him stay. Make him know he couldn’t leave her.
Instead, she twisted her fingers together—in her lap where he couldn’t see them—and pressed the soles of her shoes hard to the floor.
Steve’s gaze strayed to the window. “I’m taking the train into Denver and catching a flight there.”
“Is Angie going with you?” The words almost stuck in her throat. She hated to ask, but she had to know.
“Angie?” Steve turned and gave her a wide-eyed look. “No, no, she’s not.”
“Did you find her?”
“I did.” He ran a hand over his face. “Like you said, she’s living with her group—she calls it a ‘community’—on the Dyson farm. She’s where she wants to be.”
Molly could swear she heard pain behind his matter-of-fact statement. He still cares for Angie. He doesn’t want to go back to New York without her.
Steve picked up a paperweight from her desktop, a chunk of granite with silver mica that sparkled in the sunlight. “I don’t know quite how to say this,” he began, idly fingering the paperweight, “but we’re in different spaces right now, you and I. And so I thought it best that I say good-bye and wish you every happiness in the future.”
“Happiness to you, too, Steve.” Molly could hardly believe how calm she sounded, when her heart was breaking into pieces. “You’ll say good-bye to Karli, won’t you?”
“Already did. I stopped by Teresa’s before I came here.”
Oh, my poor little one. “And what was her reaction?”
He replaced the paperweight and met her gaze with a faint smile. “She said she’d miss me, and I told her I’d miss her, too.”
“She will miss you, Steve.” And so will I.
“I’ll be keeping in touch with Jackson and Sara, so I’ll find out from them how you and Karli are doing.”
Emotion clogged her throat but she forced out the words. “We’ll be doing fine.”
“I’m su
re you will.” He stood and came around the desk.
At his nearness, her insides trembled. For a moment, she thought he was going to lean down and kiss her. What would she do then?
But he didn’t lean down, and he didn’t kiss her. He simply laid a hand on her shoulder. “Take care, Molly.”
“You, too, Steve.”
Then he was gone. And her heart ached so badly she could barely breathe.
Chapter Twenty
That afternoon, when Molly picked up Karli at Teresa’s, she expected her daughter to quiz her about Steve. Instead, she chattered about her day.
“We played dodge ball,” Karli said, skipping ahead of Molly as they headed down the road to their house. “And no one was able to tag me out until the very end.”
Molly smiled at Karli’s enthusiasm. “Sounds like you are a good dodger.”
“I am.”
As they climbed the steps to their porch, Molly brought up the subject that weighed on her mind. “Steve told me he came by Teresa’s to say good-bye.” She held her breath and waited for Karli’s response.
Karli grabbed the banister and hopped up to the next step. “Yeah, he did.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
Karli’s brow puckered.
“I mean, are you sad?”
“Sorta. But Steve said that even though he was going away, we’d always be friends. But I’ll miss him.”
Karli’s voice held a wistful note that touched Molly’s heart. Unshed tears burned her eyes and she blinked them back. “So will I, honey. So will I.”
****
The following day during her afternoon break, Molly sat outside on the wrought iron bench under the maple tree. She liked to take her break there, shaded by the big tree and cooled by the light breeze sweeping in from the mountains. She liked listening to the distant sounds of horses neighing and cows mooing. She liked breathing in air tinged with all the smells of the ranch—horses, hay, grass, wildflowers.
This was country. This was home.
Today, though, her usual pleasures were missing. All she could think about was losing Steve. Last night, she cried herself to sleep, and all day, she’d barely been able to do her work.
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