Tamera Alexander - [Timber Ridge Reflections 02]
Page 31
Snow drifted down without a hint of wind. The night was absolutely still, perfect, the only sound the muted tamp of horses' hooves and the soft jingle of bells. Two oil lamps adorned the front of the sleigh, but he hadn't bothered lighting them. With the moonlight reflecting off the world of white, the lamps weren't needed.
They reached the end of the path and he turned right, away from town.
She didn't ask where they were going. She just leaned back and stared up into the dark night sky. He would have been hard-pressed to explain it to anyone, but he'd never felt so much like a man as he did when he was with her. He wanted to protect her, provide for her, make her laugh, love her in every way he could. And he liked that she didn't have to fill every moment with words too.
Though she obviously knew quite a few more than he did.
It struck him as funny that a Tennessee boy and a Georgia girl had to come all the way west to Colorado to meet each other. But God's plans weren't necessarily his, he knew. And he'd walked with the Lord long enough to know that he wanted God's plans over anything else. No matter how much he might want what he wanted for himself.
He slowed as they came to a curve. The horses pranced, their steps high and sprite, as though they enjoyed this middle-of-the-night jaunt as much as he did. He'd put extra blankets on both of them and had wrapped their legs to protect from the cold.
He guided the sleigh off the trail and down a gently sloped embankment, having been this way many times before. The fire he'd built earlier still burned low and bright. He pulled the sleigh up as close as he could get without hitting the drifts, then got out and came around to her side.
He tugged the scarf down from over his nose and mouth, and she did likewise. She started to climb out but he stopped her.
"The drifts are pretty deep through here. If you'll allow me?"
She slipped her arms around his neck, and he carried her the short distance to the fire, but he didn't set her down right off, and she noticed. The sideways look she gave him made him wish he'd known her as a young girl. No telling what trouble she'd gotten into. She'd looked beautiful earlier tonight, but now, with her hair all loose around her shoulders, mussed and hand-combed, she took his breath away.
"Thank you;' he whispered.
Her expression turned quizzical. "For what?"
"For following God's lead in coming to Timber Ridge:"
Arms around his neck, she searched his face, unhurried, and he welcomed it.
I do believe God led me here, James. That's one thing I'll never doubt again:'
He sensed something more might follow that thought, but when she didn't offer, he set her down and dusted off the log. "Make yourself at home, madam. I'll be right back:"
Her soft chuckle behind him told him his grandfather had been right. There was something magical about kidnapping your sweetheart-or in this case, his "would-be" sweetheart-and taking her out during the first snowfall of winter. James only hoped it would turn out as well for him as it had for Ian Fletcher McGuiggan.
He retrieved the satchel from the sleigh, remembering Rachel's enthusiasm as he'd packed it earlier. She'd insisted on helping and had shared with him about the last time Thomas had done this for her. Aware of Molly watching him as he walked back, he set the satchel down and added more wood to the fire, then settled on the log beside her.
She laid a gloved hand on his arm. "I don't know what else you have planned for tonight, but it could be nothing else at all, and this would still be the best surprise I've ever had:'
"Well, then.. " He acted as if he was going to stand. "I might as well take this satchel on back to the-"
She grabbed his arm. "Don't you dare!"
Enjoying their ease with each other, especially considering their tension from earlier this evening, he thanked God again for bringing this woman into his life. He'd often wondered if the Almighty intended for him to go through this life alone, and that prospect, while lonely feeling at times, had never been a strong source of contention for him-until now. How could the mere thought of someone's absence from your life stir up such longing?
He tugged off his gloves and untied the satchel's leather straps. "This;' he said, producing a canteen and two cups, "is my grandmother's cocoa:" He poured and started to take a sip, but she touched his wrist.
`Aren't you forgetting something?" She raised her cup.
"Oh, you're right. It's not sugar sticks, but it'll have to do:" He raised his cup to hers. "To friendships that grow, and deepen"-dare he add this last line-"and that last a lifetime:"
She held his gaze, her eyes glistening in the firelight. `And for courage to follow God's lead;' she whispered. "No matter where it takes us:"
She drank, and James followed, somewhat reluctant. Not sure about the meaning behind her toast and the melancholy in her voice when she'd made it.
He pulled a covered plate from the satchel. "I also brought some of Frances Hines's cherry pie and Mattie Moorehead's gingerbread cake, if you're interested:'
She waved it off. "No, thank you. This cocoa is delicious, and plenty."
Despite her being so quiet when they'd first left her cabin, conversation came easily. They talked about their respective homes and the differences between the South and Colorado, about school and Angelo learning English, about Billy and Elijah's unlikely friendship, and about the sheriff's office. Everything but his most pressing concern.
As the fire died down, he added more kindling. "I want to apologize to you, Molly, for what happened this evening at the celebration."
She shook her head as though knowing what was coming. "I've already told you, James. You have nothing for which to apologize:"
"With all due respect. . " He took her gloved hand in his, grateful he'd earned that privilege. "I believe I do. And I'd appreciate it if you'd hear me out before saying otherwise:'
She stared at him for a second, then nodded.
"I want to apologize if, by my actions this evening, I gave you any reason to make you doubt my feelings for you. Two things figured in to my behavior tonight. First, LuEllen Spivey has a long history of playing matchmaker in this town:' He shook his head. `And, unfortunately, I'm her current project:'
"James, I know-"
"I'm not done yet. And it's rude to interrupt. As a teacher, you should know that:"
She responded with an arched brow and a look worthy of any venerated professor.
He smiled. "I bet Kurt's seen that look before:'
"Kurt has seen that look and far worse, I promise you. And more than once:"
He nodded, well able to imagine. "The second thing, and this was intentional on my part, goes to something I've never had to deal with before as sheriff of Timber Ridge:" He slipped off her left glove and wove his fingers through hers, surprised to find her fourth finger absent of her wedding band. `And that's wanting to spend more time-a lot more time-with just one woman:'
She stared at their hands. "Is it safe for me to assume that you're not speaking of Miss Stafford?"
He laughed at the subtle mockery in her tone. "That's something you may very safely assume, Molly." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the soft underside of her wrist, enjoying how her breath quickened.
The crackle of the fire filled the silence between them, and somewhere in the distance a wolf's howl rose lonely in the night.
"Watching you with Miss Stafford this evening wasn't what I would describe as pleasant, James, but I know with certainty that you, of all men, would never say one thing and do another. It's not within you:"
While he appreciated her trust, he didn't welcome her elevated praise. "Don't paint me as being more worthy than I am. I've made my fair share of mistakes. But I've always tried to keep any hint of misconduct away from the sheriff's office. I don't want to give anyone reason to question my motives, and I don't want your reputation to be in question either, because of me:"
She sighed, looking up at him. "You could never harm my reputation, James. You're too good a man. Too kind and honorable;' she w
hispered, her brow knitting tight. "Which only makes-" She bowed her head. "Which only makes this so much harder:"
He looked closer at her. "Which only makes what harder?"
"Being here ... now, with you;' she whispered.
"Being here with me is hard?" He laughed softly. "That's not exactly what I'd hoped to hear tonight:"
She laughed, but it came out part sob, and tears rose to her eyes.
She turned her head, but he slipped his hands inside the collar of her coat and raised her face to meet his. And for the first time since they'd met, he sensed her resolve slipping. He heard it in her quick breaths and saw it in her face, and in the way she covered his hands framing her face. But her resolve wasn't just slipping ... she wanted to let him through that impenetrable wall she'd built around herself. He could feel it, he was certain. He also felt her reluctance. Her fear was nearly tangible.
But given this opening, he wasn't about to let Molly slip back behind that barrier without a fight.
Molly couldn't think with James so close to her. She needed to move away. "I can't do this if you're touching me."
He drew her closer. "You can't do what?"
"Tell you;' she whispered, hearing the tremor in her voice.
"Tell me what?"
She caught the scent of cocoa on his breath and imagined the taste of his kiss, which didn't help her concentration. She shook her head. "This ... can't happen between us, James:"
His hands were warm on her face. "You feel for me the way I feel for you, Molly. I can tell:"
"No;' she said softly.
"No?" His smile said he didn't believe her. "You're saying you don't care for me?"
"I'm saying-" Her breath came hard, the cost of her promise becoming clearer. "I'm saying ... I c-can't."
She turned away, but he gently turned her back. She saw the desire in his eyes, and closed hers.
"Look at me, Molly."
She couldn't. Not and get through this.
He cradled the back of her neck. "Look at me;' he whispered.
At the insistence in his voice, she obeyed, reluctant. He traced a feathersoft path over her lips, and her gaze went to his mouth. With a trembling hand, she touched his face. If she'd only known how it could be ...
He kissed her cheek, then with utmost patience worked his way to the corner of her mouth, his breath warm against her skin. He drew back slightly, his question clear. And slowly, deliberately, knowing this would be their first kiss-and last-Molly closed her eyes.
His tenderness awakened an ache inside her, not only to be closer to him, but to be more to him. He tasted faintly of chocolate, smooth and sweet. He wove his hands through her hair, deepening their kiss, and Molly slipped her arms around his neck. She moved closer and heard his soft sigh, and sensed an urgency building-
She broke the kiss and pulled back, her breath coming hard. "We shouldn't ha-" She touched her mouth, still warm from his. "We shouldn't have done that:"
His own breath uneven, he fingered a curl at her temple. "If it's any consolation, I don't regret it in the least:"
He reached for her, but she rose and moved away, clutching the blanket tight about her shoulders. He stood, but she held up her hand.
"No, James, please ..." She briefly closed her eyes, summoning the courage. "I made a promise tonight that I would-" She bit her lower lip. Her chin trembled. "I didn't plan on you;' she whispered, remembering the first time she'd seen him in Sulfur Falls. Then again that same day, on the cliff. She took a stuttered breath, barely able to speak past the pain tightening her chest. "I never expected to meet you. You need to remember that ... after I tell you this. Please promise me you'll remember that:'
He moved closer. "Molly, I don't know what you're afraid of, but there's no reason to-"
"Say you'll remember:"
"I'll remember:" He took another step. "But whatever you're about to tell me isn't going to change the way I-"
"You don't know what you're saying, James:"
"Trust me, Molly, I do:" Firmness layered his tone. "I know exactly what I'm saying because there's something I've been wanting to-"
"James, I'm with child:"
He stopped dead cold. He didn't blink. He didn't move. He just stared, as though seeing her from a distance, uncertain whether or not it was her.
Silence crowded the space between them, roaring in her ears and competing with the pounding of her pulse. A gentle thunder echoed deep inside her, and Molly closed her eyes, feeling the tears slip down her cheeks, knowing her promise to God was only half fulfilled.
"I don't..." James exhaled. "I don't understand. How can you be. .
I was with child when I arrived in Timber Ridge:'
He blinked and took a half step back. An unconscious move on his part, she felt sure. But it revealed so much.
His expression clouded. `And you didn't tell me;' he whispered. "You never said anything:"
"I tried ... many times, I just couldn't-"
"When you first applied for the position here.. " His eyes narrowed. He shook his head. "You couldn't have known then.... Right?"
He was so eager to believe the best. "Even then, James. I knew."
He frowned, and his gaze dropped to her midsection. "So ... you lied;' he said, disbelief thinning his voice. `All this time. You've been lying. To me. To everyone:' Disappointment darkened his eyes as an invisible weight settled across his broad shoulders.
"I'm so sorry, James. Please, please forgive me. I've wanted to tell you. You don't know how much this has been-"
"Who else knows?"
The flat edge to his voice siphoned the air from her lungs. She swallowed. "Dr. Brookston."
His jaw hardened. "When did you tell him?"
"I didn't tell him ... exactly. He found out when I was sick:'
His stare grew heavy and daunting. She wanted to look away but couldn't. How was it that some moments seemed to pass in a blink, while others crept by with aching slowness?
"It's time I get you home," he said, his voice a monotone. Yet he didn't move.
And neither did she. She could feel him thinking, trying to sort things through.
"When is the baby due?"
She swallowed. "The first of February." Four months away.
She sensed the questions roiling inside him and waited, knowing she needed to tell him the rest-to keep the remainder of her promise-but she couldn't get the words to come, not when he was staring at her like that.
He reached for her glove lying on the ground where they'd been sitting and handed it to her. She slipped it on, careful not to meet his eyes.
The ride back to her cabin was tense and quiet. James stopped the sleigh and came around to help her out. He held her arm as she climbed the icy porch stairs, then quickly released her when she reached the door. She fumbled with her key, unable to fit it into the lock. She wiped her eyes, trying to see past her tears.
He took the key from her hand. "The town council will have to be told" He unlocked the door and pushed it open. "There's a meeting Tuesday night"
"I'll be there"
She stepped inside the darkened room and to her surprise, he followed her in. He lit the oil lamp on the table, then strode to the fireplace. Knowing it was useless to protest, she waited as he built a fire. When he finished, he walked past her to the door.
"Is there anything else I should do?" she asked. "To be ready for Tuesday?"
Hollowness filled his eyes. "No, I'll let everyone know you're coming. And that ... that you have something to tell them:" He turned to go.
"James?"
He paused at the door, his back to her.
"I'm so sorry;" she whispered.
He slowly turned back, his eyes wet with emotion. "So am I ... Molly. So am I:'
33
id she say when she expects the baby to be born?"
James glanced at Daniel riding beside him on the trail, grateful that Elizabeth Ranslett had come into the newspaper office that morning, and that she'd bro
ught her husband with her. James needed the advice of his trusted friend, especially before the town council meeting that evening. And before seeing Molly again. "In February. Which means she's about five months along:"
Wind gusted down the trail, frigid and biting, and James tugged the brim of his Stetson lower. As they'd ridden up the mountain that morning, he'd confided in Daniel about Molly and the sleigh ride, and about the past several weeks. Daniel had listened patiently, never interrupting, with the same quiet attentiveness James had appreciated since their youth.
They reined in a good ways back from the cliff's edge and sat in silence. This vantage point was breathtaking, the mountains draped in their winter coats, standing stark and bold against the cloudless blue. James knew Daniel came up to this spot every now and then to think, and to be reminded of what God had done in his life here. But Elizabeth, Daniel's wife, vowed never to step foot on this particular mountain again.
Daniel looked over at him, his breath puffing white in the chilled morning air. "Are you planning on seeing Mrs. Whitcomb before the meeting tonight?"
James fingered a worn place on his leather gloves. `After the way I reacted to her news, I'm not sure she'd welcome me:' He stared across the snow-covered peaks. "And, frankly, I'm still sorting things throughdoing my best to take my personal feelings out of the equation. If you were to ask me how I feel about the situation as the sheriff, I'd answer one way-that she intentionally lied to the people in this town. And that I was the one who urged the town council to hire her in the first place, and then stood up for her when she arrived in town as a widow, putting my own reputation on the line. I don't welcome what some people are going to say about her, and quite frankly, about me, especially with the election coming up in the spring. But-" He sighed, shaking his head. "When you ask me my opinion as a man without the weight of this badge and the concern of the sheriff's office ... I still believe what she did was wrong, Daniel, but my answer's not nearly so cut and dried anymore:'
"That's actually reassuring to hear:" Daniel laughed softly.
James frowned. "How's that?"
"As far back as I can remember"-Daniel shifted in the saddle"you've had a fire in you for being a man of your word and for telling the truth. And that's a good thing-don't get me wrong. And lest you forget, I know where the seed of that came from:'