Molly's Hero

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by Susan Amarillas


  Fortunately for her, she remembered one other important fact. She was married. At least that’s what the preacher had mumbled faster than a rock rolling downhill.

  Chapter Two

  “Mama, are you all right?” Katie’s voice cut into Molly’s momentary musings.

  “Yes, honey.” Molly reassured her daughter, grateful for the diversion. Yeah, really grateful.

  But she quickly learned it was tough to get her mind off someone when that someone was plunked down on the side of her bed, so close his gun handle pressed against her hip.

  She also reminded herself that he was a stranger for all his help, and she had no idea what exactly he was after. Just what did he want?

  Katie’s incessant tugging on her sleeve got Molly’s attention.

  “What, sweetie?”

  “I thought you were dead like—” Her face puckered up as though she’d eaten a lemon.

  “Oh, no, sweetie, I’m not dead. See? I’m just fine. A little sick but fine.” Molly coughed and rubbed her throat.

  A grin slashed across Katie’s sun-browned face and she climbed up on the bed. Her sharp knees dug into Molly’s legs as the child scrambled to the opposite side of the bed to lean her back against the wall. Her legs looped over Molly’s.

  “See,” Molly said again, “I’m perfectly—” Another cough made her hunch over and cover her mouth. Pain bounced off her ribs and down the center of her chest. All she could do was pray for the coughing to end.

  When she looked up Katie’s smile was gone, as was the one on the stranger still seated on her bed. So she did what any mother would do, she forced a smile she didn’t feel and reached out to give her daughter a hug—just a little hug. She didn’t want Katie getting this thing. Katie was her joy, her life and the spitting image of Molly’s sister.

  The cough came again and she slammed her eyes shut while she tried not to breathe, not to move, so the cough would leave as suddenly as it had arrived.

  “Come on, there,” she heard the man’s voice say, and she opened her eyes a slit to see him reach over her. “Let me hoist you outta there, kid, so your mother can get some sleep.”

  Katie hesitated a fraction of a second, then let him swing her high into the air before settling her on the floor. That grin was back. That was Molly’s grin. The one reserved for her alone and Katie was sharing it with some stranger!

  “Do it again,” she demanded, arms outstretched.

  “Uh, how about later, after we get your mother settled in?”

  “You won’t forget?”

  “I won’t forget.”

  Katie had suddenly gone from hitting the man to hugging him. Right now she was sidled up against him as though he just invented candy.

  Molly’s temper started up the scale. Yes, she knew she should be grateful. She was grateful but he was getting too…too. Well, just too.

  When she caught her breath, the stranger was perched on the edge of her table, his long legs stretched straight out in front of him, his boots crossed at the ankles. His hand gripped the edge of the handmade table.

  The white china shade on the lamp rattled dangerously as he moved slightly. “Sorry,” he muttered, reaching back to steady the lamp with his hand. He stood and studied the table legs. “Floor’s crooked—or the legs are.”

  “I know, thank you very much.”

  His head came up sharply. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just making a comment.”

  “Well, I don’t need your comments.”

  Her cough erupted again and she rolled onto her side, hands covering her mouth, knees drawn up. It hurt. She wanted to cry she hurt so much.

  Just as before, he was there, on the edge of the bed, rubbing her back in a gentle soothing way that warmed her deep inside. “Try to breathe slowly,” he said, his voice rich and calming.

  And so she did. After what seemed an eternity but was probably only a couple of minutes, the coughing had passed, the pain in her chest had eased.

  Shoving her hair back, she looked up as he stood.

  “Mr. Wilder…”

  He arched one black brow.

  “Thank you.” She owed him, and she always paid her debts.

  “My pleasure.” He smiled, a slow, sort of easy smile that appeared from behind his mustache, making those lines in his cheeks deeper. He was transformed, from dark to light, from winter to spring. She was held in his gaze and felt all funny inside, as though she’d been caught in some mischief. This time the shiver that skimmed up her spine had nothing to do with her fever. The woman in her knew it even if her mind denied the feeling. She was a married woman—a happily married woman, dammit.

  Being close to him was doing something unfamiliar to her, something she didn’t trust. She tore her gaze away and focused on Katie, poor frightened Katie. Yes, that was it. Think about Katie or town—or anything but his tantalizing smile.

  A slice of sunlight, the color of fresh butter, slipped in around the blue calico curtains she’d made last month. It flowed over the edge of the handmade pine table and across the rough-hewn floor. Dust motes floated on the air. The man, Wilder, moved, to perch on the edge of the table again. He crossed his feet at the ankles as he had before. That same sunlight glinted sharply on the rowel of one spur, making Molly blink, making her take notice of him—which she was trying not to do, not in that way a woman usually notices a man, at least.

  Poor Jack might not be the best husband in the world but he wasn’t the worst, either. He’d always pretty much left her alone, except on Saturday nights. She didn’t like to think about that. The truth was, a woman needed a husband. Or so she’d been taught. But now there were times she wondered, especially since he wasn’t even here. That had her worried.

  Before she realized what Wilder was up to, he came over to the bed. Her gaze went instantly to his face, to his dark, dark-brown eyes. Eyes as soft as velvet. Something was happening here. She wasn’t quite sure what, but she knew it wasn’t good. No sir, it wasn’t good at all.

  Just then she felt his hand on her forehead. She hadn’t even realized what he was about she’d been so lost in thought.

  Get a grip, Molly. Now!

  “Lady, in case you haven’t already figured it out…you’re sick. Really sick by the feel of you.”

  It was anger at herself that made her jerk her head away. Wedding vows, remember?

  “Gee, I thought I was coughing for no reason at all.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and swiveled on the bed, effectively making him step back. That was good.

  “Hey, don’t go getting sarcastic with me. I carried you in here, remember. If it wasn’t for me you’d be lying out there in the dirt.” He gestured toward the doorway with his thumb.

  Okay, she thought, this was good. He was angry. She was angry…well sorta. Anger was a good emotion, a safe emotion that she understood.

  He stalked away, stopping near the kitchen sink. He leaned one hip against the wooden counter, arms crossed over his chest.

  “I know very well my condition and I’ve already said thank you for helping me. What were you expecting? A medal?”

  “No, I wasn’t expecting a damned medal. I’ve got more than I ever wanted.”

  She was about to ask him what that meant when he stalked back to the table. Hands braced on the table, he leaned toward her.

  “What I’d like to know,” he began before she could say a word, “if it’s not too much of an imposition is—”

  “What?” she snapped. Maybe he’d leave and take that soft lazy smile with him.

  “If you knew you’re sick then what the hell were you doing out there harnessing the horses?” He motioned toward the door with his hand, his gun hand, she noted.

  “This is my house and I’ll come and go as I please. I appreciate what you did but I can handle things from here on.” Her gaze met his square on. Help or no help, sick or well, she wanted things back the way they were.

  “Fine.” He closed on her, his spurs jingling as he did. �
��If you want to be so hardheaded, go ahead. Just remember that if you drop dead somewhere out there then—”

  “Mr. Wilder!” Molly’s wild gaze flicked to Katie, who was quietly seated on the foot of the bed taking in every word as if she were front row center at the theater.

  One look and Ethan came up short. He’d totally forgotten about the kid. Her round face was all drawn up and her chin had that threatening quiver again. Dammit! He hadn’t meant to scare the kid, it was just that the woman got him so riled. Besides, there’d been a moment back there when she’d looked at him and said “Thank you” that he’d felt as though something had happened between them. Something…Aw, hell. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He was an idiot.

  Just take care of business and get on with it.

  Yeah. Yeah. But he couldn’t walk outta here until he set things right. After all, he wasn’t an ogre. With a deep sigh, he hunkered down in front of the child, one hand resting on the square top of the bed leg. “Look, ah, what…Ah, Katie, isn’t it?” He touched her hand lightly in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

  Her sun-bleached hair fell across her face. But her chin still quivered dangerously. Okay. It wasn’t the end of the world if the girl broke out in tears. Kids cried all the time. It was just that for reasons he couldn’t explain, he didn’t want to be the cause of it. “I was only fooling when I said that about your mother dying. Like when you asked me before. You can see she’s fine the same way I told you then.” She watched him closely, like a cat watching a fish in a bowl. He felt about as cornered. “You’re fine,” he angled around and asked Molly, “aren’t you?” It was an order, not a request.

  “Sure,” Molly confirmed, her expression dark with restrained rage.

  The kid looked at him with all the skepticism of a schoolmarm listening to an excuse about incomplete homework. Fortunately for him, this time it was the woman who did the rescuing.

  “Mr. Wilder here was wrong.”

  There was a certain smug edge to her tone that riled him, but he held his temper. “I can see now that I…misspoke,” he corrected. As far as he was concerned he was right and this charade was for the kid’s benefit.

  “Are you sure?” Katie pressed, her free hand twisting the hem of her skirt into a knot.

  He gave the kid his best smile, the one that usually got him out of trouble with females from nuns to whores. Evidently, it still worked because, lo and behold, he got a smile right back complete with dimples, one dimple anyway, deep in the left cheek.

  “Sure,” he confirmed with another pat of her hand.

  Katie gave a deep sigh and fussed with straightening her yellow skirt, her head down as though thinking it over. Suddenly her head came up and there was a smile, complete with a missing front tooth. “Okay.”

  Just like that it was over. Molly breathed her own sigh of relief. Ethan stood, his smile still in place.

  “Katie, honey.” Molly held out her arms and couldn’t resist giving her child a small hug, contagion be damned. Putting her at arm’s length, she said, “How about you go on out to the barn and check on Boots and the kittens?” Now that that crisis was past Molly had a few things to say to Mr. Wilder. A distraction was necessary and a basket full of week-old kittens seemed the perfect solution.

  Katie’s eyes went wide at the mention of the cats. “Can I pick ’em up?”

  Molly nodded. “Watch out for the mama. She gets kinda protective.”

  That was all it took. Katie turned on the heel of her scarred black shoes and ran for the door, her fears evidently forgotten.

  But Molly hadn’t forgotten or forgiven, and as soon as Katie banged the door shut, Molly turned her fury on the man standing a couple of feet away.

  “Who the devil do you think you are coming in here and telling me what to do?” She surged to her feet, her skirt twisting around her legs as she did. She grabbed the cotton and pulled it free. Her throat hurt like blazes. “And what’s the meaning of scaring my child? How dare you?” Her throat felt like raw meat and she was cold, so cold.

  “Me?” He paced away then turned back. “Why the hell is this my fault? I’m not the one who’s stupid enough to be outside harnessing horses when I’m sicker than a saloon dog on Sunday morning. I’m not the one who—”

  Molly was seized by the worst fit of coughing yet. Her chest ached as if she’d been mule kicked as did her ribs and her gut and just about every other part of her body. She sank down on the bed, lying on her side. Hands clamped over her mouth, she coughed until she was sure there was no breath left in her.

  When she finally managed to sit up, he was seated on the edge of her table, her table, with one of those I-told-you-so expressions that men are so great with.

  Hooking her hair behind her ears, she shot him a look that dared him to say it. Wisely, he didn’t say a word.

  Molly gulped in a couple of lungfuls of air and rubbed her throat, trying in vain to ease the ache there.

  “Well,” she said after a moment.

  “Well what? You want me to apologize for helping you? Okay. Fine.” He paced away again, boot heels thudding on the bare floor. “I’m sorry I helped you instead of leaving you passed out in the dirt.”

  Ethan knew the look he got. She was glaring at him, lips tight, eyes hard, jaw clenched. It was one of those you’ll-be-sorry-for-that looks that women use on small children and men of all ages. He hated what he thought of as “the look,” didn’t know a man who didn’t. This particular woman was all temper and determination and not a lick of sense.

  She’s also sick and trying to take care of herself and a child all alone.

  Okay. For that he felt sorry for her. But only for that. So he decided not to say “I told you so” since he knew that she knew that was exactly what he was thinking. There was a certain joy of victory, even if it was a very small one. Kinda made up for having to endure the dreaded “look.” A smile threatened, just a tad, a sort of twitch in one corner of his mouth hidden behind his mustache.

  Of course, there was nothing really to smile at. Looking at her with her face all flushed, her hair in disarray, her breathing shallow and fast. She looked riled and wild, and any other time he’d have thought she’d just been made love to. That thought stirred him a bit.

  He tamped down the feeling. Hell, she was sick, not being seductive. Too bad, was his fleeting thought. Enough of that. What he wanted from her had absolutely nothing to do with sex. He had business on the mind, nothing more.

  Unfortunately his business was going to have to wait because he’d showed up at exactly the wrong time and he and the woman, well, they weren’t exactly best friends…yet.

  Still, he figured he’d try the sensible approach. Slapping his hat on the table behind him, he dragged out a chair and sat down. “You need a doctor.”

  “Maybe.” She eyed him suspiciously.

  “Maybe?” His tone was exaggerated. “More than maybe.”

  She swung her legs over the side and faced him directly. “Now, look, Wilder, I—”

  He stopped her with an upheld hand. “I’ll go into town and bring the doctor back. I’ll even pay if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  Twisting in the chair, he grabbed his hat and made to stand.

  “First of all, I don’t take charity and second, there’s no doctor in town.”

  That brought him up short. “No doctor?” His brows came together. “What do you mean there’s no doctor? There has to be a doctor.”

  She coughed slightly. “Sorry to disappoint you but there’s no doctor.”

  “Well, where is the nearest doctor?”

  She shrugged.

  “No doctor.” Great. Just great. He dropped down in the chair again, the wood creaked under his sudden weight.

  She shook her head. The beautiful red hair of hers spilled over one shoulder as she moved. Another cough. The sound was deep and painful to listen to. Suddenly he was very anxious to do something…anything.

  “A friend, then? Someone who could h
elp out while you—”

  She shook her head again. “We haven’t been here that long. I don’t know anyone as much more than a passing acquaintance.”

  No doctor. No friends. Her sick. All alone. Little kid. This was a hell of a fix. He fell back in the chair, raking one hand through his hair in an agitated gesture. Now what?

  He didn’t have time to make that decision. Next thing he knew, she was up, wobbling a bit, but up and moving for the damned door again.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” He slapped his hat on his head and caught up.

  “I think I’m going to town.” She kept walking, and he mirrored her stride.

  “What’s the point if there’s no doctor?” he repeated. “This is a waste of time and energy—and by the look of you, you don’t have much of either to spare.”

  “You’ve so kindly pointed that out before, Mr. Wilder.” She never slowed. Outside she headed for the wagon, Ethan right in step, though he chose to walk backward so he could look at her better. He didn’t like what he saw. She was still trembling and pale and coughing and struggling to talk. It could be a bad cold. It could be something a lot worse.

  “I’m against this,” he announced. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Thank you for the insult.”

  They ended up at the wagon in a dead heat. The horses pawed the ground nervously as though sensing the tension going on. A couple of big horseflies buzzed around making the horses swoosh their tails. Sweat already glistened on their backs.

  Katie came running full steam ahead across the yard from the barn. She skidded to a halt beside Molly and tugged on her skirt. “Look at this one.” She had a strangle-tight grip on an orange-striped kitten and thrust the mewing cat in Molly’s direction.

  “Nice,” Molly replied absently and punctuated her statement with a little pat on Katie’s head. She wasn’t interested in kittens; she was interested in getting rid of this man, going into town and getting some medicine to make her head stop feeling as though it were going to explode. What she would give to curl up in a nice dark corner somewhere and wait this thing out. But that wasn’t going to happen. Having to converse with this cowboy was only making her feel worse.

 

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