Lindy held Molly’s distressed gaze. “We all did. Didn’t we, Molly?”
Molly left them on that. She closed the door to her bedroom, snuggled down in the big feather mattress, and tried valiantly not to think—
About Jeff and Lindy.
About the children discovering she hadn’t mailed the letter to Rubal.
About the contract that lay like a hot coal in her dresser drawer.
About telling the little boys that they would be separated for a year. A year at their ages was a lifetime. And how could she be certain she could get them back at the end of a year? She couldn’t. And that hurt worse than anything.
Except for Rubal’s deception. As selfish as she felt, as foolish—she knew if he had stayed, they could’ve worked things out. If he had stayed, they could’ve held things together.
Because if he had stayed, it would have been because he loved her.
Chapter Twenty
Molly approached the next few days as though they were the most important days in her life. And indeed, that’s what she considered this precious, dwindling time with her family. Her only wish now, was to create so much happiness that the children would have unforgettable memories to take with them—memories of their home and of the love they had shared here.
Jeff’s arrival revived Molly’s sagging spirits, giving her strength to survive the constant reminders of Rubal, which never failed to bring a bout of melancholy. But the children were so happy to see Jeff, that she began to hope they wouldn’t be too disappointed by Rubal’s failure to appear for Christmas dinner.
With Jeff’s help they cut the biggest tree the horse could pull, and which they, in turn, could squeeze through the door.
“Boy, oh, boy, a logger to go tree-huntin’ with us!” Willie Joe exclaimed. Molly wondered whether he had forgotten his appeal for Rubal to come in time to help them find a tree.
Hopefully, she thought. Maybe now she would be the only one to truly miss Rubal Jarrett. That night they dressed the tree with tiny candles and strings of popcorn and ropes of brightly colored ribbons. Molly had resisted going into the attic for the Christmas decorations, certain they would evoke memories so poignant she wouldn’t be able to keep up a cheerful front.
“Mol-ly,” Lindy accused. “We have to use the old decorations. It won’t be Christmas without them.”
Molly sighed and got them down—paper stars and chains, colorful glass ornaments, and crocheted figures made by members of the family through several generations. Memories, made and kept year after year.
Memories. Molly watched the children gleefully decorate the tree, aided by Jeff who put the star on top. Lindy led the singing and Molly tried to join in.
Help me make it through the next few days, she prayed time and again. The next few days, then she could fall to pieces. After she told the children, after she sent them to live with their relatives, after she signed the papers to sell the Blake House.
After Travis returned to school. After she and Lindy and Sugar moved to the little cabin she had found. After they started work for Etta Petersen. Then she could fall to pieces.
One part of this carefully laid plan, Molly soon learned, would not come to pass. She had planned to go straight to bed herself after the tree trimming. But when she finished tucking in the little boys, Lindy called her back to the parlor.
“Jeff wants to ask you something.”
Molly knew before the abashed young man opened his mouth, what he would say. They wanted to get married.
“But Lindy, what about school?”
“School?” Lindy exchanged a knowing glance with Jeff. “Even if I could go to school, Molly, I wouldn’t. I want to marry Jeff.”
“She can still go to school,” Jeff added. “I plan to take some of that reward money and set us up with a ranch west of here. Lindy can study at home. They call it correspondence school.”
“I know, Jeff. I just wish she had a choice.”
“I have a choice, Molly. I want to marry Jeff.”
Molly sighed, feeling more like their mother than ever. But how could she feel like a mother when she hadn’t even been a wife? Life was topsy-turvy. But not for Lindy. This was Lindy’s chance.
She hugged Jeff. “Welcome to the family, Jeff. I think you already know how much we like you.”
When Jeff and Lindy announced they were going over to Lufkin the following morning, Molly kept silent. She would let them reveal their plans to the rest of the household when they got ready. But with them going together to the county seat, she figured she and Sugar should start planning a wedding.
The reminder of the last wedding announcement made in this family was almost more than she could bear. Then Little Sam mentioned the very thing she hoped he had forgotten.
“When do you think mister’ll come to my house, Molly?”
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know that,” Willie Joe accused.
“No,” she told him. “But I’m sure he won’t. You heard the Rangers say he went to California.” She smiled at Jeff. “We have Jeff now.”
“In case Rubal does come for Christmas,” Lindy said, “Jeff told me something I think you ought to know, before you send him away again.”
Molly blanched. Jeff protested.
“Lindy, he didn’t mean for me to tell. He didn’t want any of you to know.”
“Molly needs to know, Jeff. Then maybe she’ll be civil to him, let him stay…for dinner, anyway.”
“I’d just as soon not hear it,” Molly replied in a tight voice that revealed her pain. “Rubal Jarrett has hurt this family enough.”
“Rubal paid for Travis’s schooling last semester.”
Molly’s eyes flew to Lindy, then to Jeff.
“He’d be mighty upset if he knew I told,” Jeff said.
Overcome by emotion, Molly jumped from the table and ran to the window, where she stared out at the side yard through blurred vision.
“When did he do that?” Travis questioned behind her.
“Day we left. When we got to the crossroads leading to San Augustine, he went on up to the school and paid for your tuition and boardin’ and everything.”
“With what?” Travis challenged.
“His pay from L&M, that’s what he said. I didn’t question him. He said it was to be between the three of us, himself, his brother, and me. Now I’ve gone and told. He’s going to be mighty upset with me.”
Molly turned to face the group, composed again. “That’s all right, Jeff. We won’t have cause to tell him.”
“But why would he do that?” Travis asked.
“To appease his guilty conscience,” Molly retorted. She left the room with the excuse of making beds.
Lindy’s and Jeff’s absence that afternoon gave Molly time to get used to the idea that Rubal had paid for Travis’s education. It was only one semester, she reasoned. The least he could have done under the circumstances. She hoped it helped ease his guilty conscience, because it certainly didn’t help ease her own pain.
When Lindy and Jeff returned in midafternoon, however, Lindy’s bright eyes went a long way toward that end. “Molly, let’s go through Mama’s old trunk and find the two most beautiful gowns to wear for Christmas Eve.”
Molly hugged her little sister who wasn’t so little anymore. Lindy had grown up an awful lot in the last few months. Her bright eyes and glowing countenance were enough to lift the most dismal spirits, and Molly refused to allow herself to worry whether Lindy’s new-found love would last. But she prayed it would.
“Christmas Eve?” Molly questioned with a grin. “Could we be attending something other than Christmas Eve services?”
Lindy blushed. “Christmas Eve services,” she said, adding, “but it’s our last together…for a while. We can even fix things for the boys to wear.”
So the rest of that afternoon and a good part of Christmas Eve itself were given over to remaking two corded silk gowns that had belonged to their mother before the war. The bouffant
skirts and puffed sleeves provided ample material to work with. When the sisters finished they had fashioned two gowns with snugly fitted bodices, slim skirts, and small bustles. Lindy’s was pale pink with ecru ruching around the neckline, and Molly’s was marine blue with a pleated flounce of the same material around the hem.
After they sewed the last stitch, pressed the gowns, and hung them so they wouldn’t wrinkle, Lindy grabbed Molly around the neck.
“Oh, Molly, I’m so happy. I never dreamed anyone could be this happy.”
“That makes me happy.” Molly hugged her little sister, surprised to realize she truly meant it.
Releasing Molly, Lindy cocked her head. “You know what did it, don’t you?”
“Did what?”
“Made Jeff and me fall in love?”
“What?”
“Rubal. The way he lit into us the night of the dance.”
Molly’s smile died on her lips.
“I know he hurt you, Molly, but you could at least give him credit for the good he did around here. Not only sending Travis to school. If he hadn’t gotten onto Jeff and me that night, we’d probably have done just what he said, made a mistake.”
“Let’s don’t talk about this, Lindy.”
“But it’s true. Isn’t that what experiences are for? Helping others not to make the mistakes you did?”
Downstairs Molly inhaled the sweet scents of pine and cinnamon and cloves and roasting turkey. The children—to be more exact, Lindy—had persuaded her to serve a special dinner after the Christmas Eve service. Molly agreed, of course. She knew what Lindy and Jeff were up to. She only hoped they had alerted the Reverend Callicott.
As time for the service neared, they divided up chores: Molly would help Sugar, while Lindy dressed the little boys. Molly and Sugar had everything ready, and Sugar had already left to attend her own services, before the children arrived downstairs.
Travis and Jeff appeared first—Jeff wearing what looked to be a brand-spanking new black broadcloth suit, and Travis in the suit of his father’s Molly had recut before the semester started.
Molly gathered them in her arms with a laugh; happiness suffused her. Temporarily, she knew. But wasn’t that what happiness was? Little flashes of sunshine in between life’s storms? Jeff really did fit into this family. Like the Christmas miracle Cleatus had warned her not to expect, Jeff had returned precisely when they needed him most. He filled the void left by Rubal Jarrett. For most of them, anyhow.
When at length Lindy and the little boys appeared on the stairs, one look told Molly why it had taken so long. Somehow Lindy had managed to dress Willie Joe and Little Sam in the black velvet knickers and lace jabots they found in the trunk. The trouble it must have taken her to get the boys into those outfits, proved, once again, Lindy’s determination to make this evening memorable, in spite of the deep pain both she and Molly carried inside. Yes, Lindy had grown up, in more ways than physically. Molly’s heart swelled with pride. Lindy had succeeded in making this Christmas extra special for all of them.
Lindy’s and Jeff’s uneasiness showed in their reluctance to leave the house. Last-minute jitters, Molly knew. She felt them, too, and she hadn’t even been told what to expect. The facts, though, were plain for all to see.
“Hadn’t we better get started?” she suggested at length, after Jeff had returned to his room twice and Lindy had run back upstairs a couple of times. “We may not find a pew together, if we wait any longer.”
Lindy and Jeff exchanged glances. Jeff consulted his watch, tucked it back in his pocket, and looked down the road. They couldn’t see the church from here, but Molly knew he was visualizing it. Surely, he wasn’t considering backing out.
“Molly’s right,” Lindy agreed. “We’d better go.”
Travis opened the door, held it for Jeff and Lindy. The little boys followed, and Travis offered his elbow to Molly.
Tears rushed to her eyes. Her little brother. Travis had grown up as much as Lindy had. “I see they taught you more than reading and writing at San Augustine Academy,” she praised. “They even taught you how to treat a lady.”
“Rubal taught me that.”
Even though there was no malice in his tone, nor even a hint of accusation, Travis’s words sliced through Molly like the chill December wind that whistled around the porch. She recalled the first time they had gone to church together, how Rubal had persuaded Travis to escort her. She blinked back tears. How would she ever remain dry-eyed through the Christmas Eve service—and her little sister’s wedding.
Lindy was right. Rather than hurting the children when he left, Rubal’s presence had been good for them. Perhaps that was the reason he’d returned to Apple Springs—to make amends. He could never make amends to Molly; likely, he’d known that all along. But by guiding the children as he had, he had gone a long way.
The bell began ringing before they stepped inside the churchyard. Most of the worshipers had already gone inside out of the wind. But when they reached the door, Lindy and Jeff turned around.
Molly could see their hesitation. She longed to comfort them, to tell them not to worry. Or even not to go through with it, if they weren’t certain. It wasn’t too late to back out.
Perhaps she should whisper discreetly to Lindy. Turning loose of Travis’s arm, she took the steps, moved toward Lindy, then stopped when Lindy’s eyes widened and her mouth flew open.
“It’s him!”
“I told you he’d make it,” Jeff was saying.
Molly’s stomach bunched in knots; her brain whirred with mishmash. Filled with a strange sort of dread that was mixed with anticipation, she turned awkwardly, following Lindy’s gaze to the hitching rail outside the churchyard fence. Jeff was already halfway down the path.
Rubal Jarrett, dressed in a fine black suit, stepped down from his horse, draped the reins over the hitching rail, and took Jeff’s offered hand without ever taking his eyes off Molly.
She stood frozen to the top step. He hadn’t gone to California. He’d come back…back to…But how had he known? As in a stupor, she watched Jeff pull an envelope from inside his jacket and place it in Rubal’s outstretched hand.
Rubal said something to Jeff, handed Jeff a different envelope. Jeff returned to Lindy. They spoke, but Molly wasn’t sensible enough to decipher their words.
Then suddenly, as though he had been carried by the wind, Rubal stood on the step below her.
“Come on,” Lindy encouraged.
“Save us a place,” Rubal said. “I need a word with Molly.” Reaching, he took her by the arm and pulled her off the steps. Like one would lead a recalcitrant child, he led her around the corner of the church.
His hat fell off when he crushed her in his arms and claimed her lips. His mouth, hungry and warm and oh so wonderful, moved across hers.
At first she was too stunned to respond.
He drew back, gazed into her eyes with such a heated expression even the chill wind warmed.
“What are you doing here?” she mumbled.
“You invited me.”
She shook her head.
“Well, someone did.” He kissed her again, a deep kiss that stirred all the yearnings she had tried unsuccessfully to suppress for such a long time. When he released her again, it was to ask, “You said you’d marry me, Molly. Do you still mean it?”
Lifting her hand she traced the scar on his left temple, the scar that told her without a doubt this was Rubal Jarrett, not his brother. Rubal, the man she loved. The only man she had ever loved. “Yes…” Further words choked in the mass of joy in her throat.
He held up the envelope Jeff had given him. “They’re waiting.”
Sometime in the middle of the Christmas Eve service, Molly realized that she was the only one in the family who hadn’t been privy to the plans. Even the little boys must have known, else they would have bounded down the path to greet Rubal, else they would have taken charge of him. Lindy had prepared them well.
Beside her, Ruba
l held her hand clasped tightly in his, as though to reassure her that he had returned, this time to stay. She thought suddenly of all the times the last couple of days the children had tried to prepare her, too—telling her about Rubal paying for Travis’s schooling. Now she knew Lindy hadn’t mentioned it accidentally, like Jeff tried to pretend. And Lindy confessing that it had been Rubal’s guidance that helped her and Jeff sit back and decide exactly what they were doing and why. Even Travis, taking her arm, telling her he learned his manners from Rubal.
Those children! They had kept the secret well. But not from everyone. The Reverend Callicott surprised the worshipers by announcing that they would witness not one but two weddings this Christmas Eve.
The entire family traipsed forward at his call. Molly knew she was the most stunned person in the building—probably in all the world. When Reverend Callicott asked, “Who gives Lindy…?”
The group answered in unison—rehearsed, Molly could tell, “We do.”
And when the reverend asked, “Who gives Molly…?” Again, the entire family, including Jeff, responded with a rousing, “We do.”
Outside, even the busybodies in the congregation offered congratulations to the couples. Molly smiled, knowing she and her family had furnished them enough gossip to keep their tongues wagging throughout the holidays.
Rubal and Jeff edged the family toward the road. Before they could escape the churchyard, however, Cleatus approached. He offered Rubal his hand.
“I should have figured something like this would happen.”
Rubal shook Cleatus’s hand. “Better luck next time.”
Cleatus gazed so forlornly into Molly’s eyes that she dropped her gaze. “May I kiss the bride?”
Rubal nodded, a little curtly, but agreeing, nonetheless.
“One last time,” Cleatus whispered beneath his breath, brushing Molly’s lips. She felt sorry for him.
“We’ll be down to open an account after the holidays,” Rubal was saying.
“Sure,” Cleatus agreed. “Glad to have your business.”
Secret Surrender--Jarrett Family Sagas--Book Four Page 33