———
“Y’all enjoy the cake and punch,” Bailey announced to the crowd. “We’ve got plans.”
“Bailey!” Molly clutched his arm and turned last year’s shade of pink as guffaws erupted. Molly chewed the inside of her cheek. What was she going to do? She probably didn’t have to say anything. She had no secrets from Bailey, but could she move on without acknowledging the past?
He offered his arm and steered her through the well-wishers. “Only a few more hours.”
She wouldn’t think about it. Not yet. “First we have an extremely uncomfortable appointment with our lawyer.”
“Do you think your parents are there already?”
“I’m certain of it. If Father had his way, he would’ve walked out as soon as he gave you my hand. He’s anxious.”
“Makes me wonder if we offered him too much.”
Molly glared. “I know how to figure a fair bid for a business based on profit and capital. The market—”
“Shh.” He covered her hand. “Let’s not have our first spat before we leave the wedding party.”
“No one would be surprised.”
As they neared the attorney’s office, Molly grew even more thoughtful. Justice allowed her—nay, required her—to carry out this coup, didn’t it? To prove to her father in grand fashion that she was capable? After today he could never deny it again. Here was a maneuver that would leave him breathless, but would it be with anger or with appreciation?
The closer they came to the office, the more her doubts grew. Was she honoring her parents? Would they resent her secrecy?
Her legs stopped moving. Bailey pulled her a full yard before he realized she was digging canals with her feet.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if we should do this. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Are you pulling my leg? Have you seen how happy your pa is? If we back out now, he’ll be disappointed.”
“But he’ll feel foolish when he realizes we tricked him. What about his heart?”
“Taking the business off his hands is the best thing we could do for his heart. He can finally relax. Let’s go.”
Holding on for dear life, Molly moved lead feet up the steps to the front door of the solicitor’s. Her heart pounded when she spotted her parents’ surrey parked at the side. Where had her sense of triumph gone? All she anticipated now was her parents’ anger.
Bailey held the door open for her and ushered her inside the gleaming office. The foyer was deserted. On their last visit Molly had noted the shelves of stuffed folders lining the walls above the cushioned benches. Now she wondered if each of those deals wrought the same level of emotional turmoil that hers did.
“They’re in the office.” Molly couldn’t tear her eyes from the closed door.
Bailey took a seat. “If you want to change your mind, it’s not too late. He keeps the mill, you keep your money. We’ve already settled the important matter.”
The door opened. Molly jumped, but it was only Mr. Mooney. He closed it carefully behind him, not allowing any stolen glances to reach the foyer.
“Mr. Lovelace has signed the contract and is more than a little pleased with himself, although naturally he’s trying to disguise his glee.”
Bailey rose and stood at Molly’s side. “Have you told them we’re here?”
“Not directly. I told them the new buyers might meet with them today to facilitate a smooth transition. Are you ready?”
Bailey leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Nobody can keep your father happy. At least make him proud.”
Bailey was right. She’d tried all her life to please her father. She’d worked to fit his expectations only to learn that he was trying to mold her into a person he couldn’t respect. She was doing nothing illegal or immoral, and as Mr. Mooney had pointed out, her father was pleased with the deal.
With a tight nod from her, Mr. Mooney opened the door wide.
“I didn’t expect to see the two of you here.” Her father laughed. “Did you come to meet the mysterious new owner? Beg him to keep you on at your position?”
Molly’s doubts shriveled up like feathers in a flame. He wasn’t worried about their future. He didn’t know how to worry about anyone besides himself. Her allegiance belonged to Bailey.
Mr. Mooney had pulled two more chairs into the room and crowded them around the rectangular table.
“Don’t bother with those chairs, Mooney,” Thomas said. “I don’t want a whole gaggle of people in here when the investor arrives.”
Mr. Mooney straightened and raised an eyebrow at Molly. It was time.
Using all the grace her mother had pounded into her, she lowered herself into the chair. “No one else is coming, Father. Your offer came from us.”
The silence was rancid. He almost began to laugh, but he looked at Bailey and stopped. His chin jutted out as his belief grew. Molly had expected a storm, and it seemed that one was brewing. He reached for the papers on the table, but Mr. Mooney reached them first.
“Of course, once Mr. and Mrs. Garner have signed the contract, you’ll be able to take a copy with you.”
“This is preposterous.” He turned to Adele, who couldn’t hide her astonishment.
“Molly, how could you? You foolish girl,” her mother said.
“Consider the terms, Mother. Father is content with the amount. Wouldn’t you be uncomfortable going into business with strangers?”
She closed her fan. “Well, I suppose it would be better to have family on the property.”
Thomas’s eyes ran over the contract in Mr. Mooney’s hand again. He leaned back in his seat and swung one boot across the other knee. “I have half a mind to nullify the contract. I never consented.”
“You signed it to an anonymous bidder,” Mr. Mooney said.
“But they aren’t anonymous. I know them.” When no one answered he tried a different tact. “Where’d you get the money?”
“From my settlement,” Molly answered. “That was enough for the down payment.”
“Your settlement?” He rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t have put that money in Fenton’s bank.”
“It’s my money, and I’m not squandering it as you feared.”
“You’re not? Seems like you lost every penny. Why buy the mill when you knew I was going to give it to you?” He squirmed under the disbelieving looks from every person in the room. “I would have . . . eventually.”
Molly leaned forward and rested both hands on the table. “Father, we worry about your health, and nothing made me happier than to see your relief when you got our offer. Can you hold on to that joy? Can you remain pleased that you no longer have that responsibility?”
Bailey took her hand as they waited for his reply.
His mouth grew small and his nostrils grew large. “My concern is that you’re going to constantly ask me for help. There’s more to it than either of you realize. You won’t manage very well without my years of expertise.”
“We’ll do quite well,” Molly huffed, but Bailey interrupted.
“But we’d do better with your counsel. What if, once a week, say, we got together, maybe over a game of checkers, and you could advise me.”
“I’m not sure if once a week would be enough. You’ll probably be harassing me for more.”
“No, I promise.” Bailey raised his hands in surrender. “Once a week over checkers. I solemnly swear I won’t allow you to be tricked into giving advice anywhere else or at any other time. I’m firm.”
Molly sat amazed. How could Bailey handle her father so easily when she still couldn’t manage him? But then he had a knack for taming strong-willed Lovelaces.
“My misgivings haven’t disappeared,” Thomas said, “and I’m trying to look out for your best interests, but if you’re absolutely sure . . .”
“Anything we can do to protect your health,” Bailey said. “So, Mr. Mooney, if you’ll hand us a pen, let’s make it legal.”
B
esides the scratching of the metal nub on the paper, the room was silent. Bailey handed Molly the pen and she had Molly Parmelia written when he halted her with a gentle touch to her back.
“Don’t forget your new name.”
“Oh, you’re right.” She bit her tongue and scripted out Garner with a flourish. “How’s that?”
“Beautiful.” But he wasn’t looking at her penmanship.
“So what now?” her mother asked Mr. Mooney. “When does it change hands?”
“Immediately. I have a note for the full deposit. Bailey and Molly will make payments to you as agreed upon. You retain the house and the lawn directly surrounding. The Garners now own the business, all the equipment, and the property associated with it. The accounts at the bank will be transferred to their name by the end of the business day.”
“So really, Thomas, not much has changed,” Adele said. “Bailey will be there working, and you’ll be free to come and go from the house as you please.”
“And you won’t have to go over the books every evening,” Molly added, “although I’d still like to come over for supper. I’ll miss Lola’s cooking while living at the parsonage.”
“Of course, dear,” her mother said. “Now that you’re married, it’ll be easier on all of us.”
Molly felt the familiar discouragement creeping up on her, but before it could settle, Bailey stepped in.
“Time to go, my bride. We have a long ride home.”
“You might as well take our surrey,” her father said. “Since I’m now a man of leisure, I’d like to take a few days to enjoy town. You, on the other hand, better scurry back to work.”
Molly rose and ran her hands down her silk wedding gown. If she could survive the humiliation of the night ahead, they’d be fine.
32
The last time Bailey was alone with Molly in this surrey, he’d determined to make her his wife. It’d taken much longer than he’d expected, but he’d finally done it right.
Besides an axle that needed grease, the surrey was quiet. The waving swells of tall grass rustled in the evening breeze. Occasionally Bailey threw out a juicy remark, hoping to entice Molly into a conversation, but she only nibbled. What was she so nervous about anyway?
Since she’d chased him and the money up to Lockhart, Molly had conducted a tightly organized campaign to secure the mill. She’d been so focused on the business that she’d never questioned his plans for their wedding. Had she expected him to back out? Was she only now realizing the permanence of their vows?
She looked lovely in her fancy getup. He’d feared that she might not appreciate the extravagance of a public wedding, but his gamble had paid off. Molly always dressed to be the center of attention, whether it was her wedding or not. She had seemed pleased with the ceremony, so what was bothering her now? He snuck a sideways glance at her. One by one, she pulled the petals off her rose bouquet, leaving a trail like bread crumbs to find her way home.
“It’s been a long day,” he said.
“Um-hum.” Her fingers faltered as she tried to catch another petal while the surrey bounced.
“We’re almost home.”
She didn’t answer.
Bailey rested his elbows on his knees and watched the horse’s ears twitch, dodging the mosquitoes that were rising from the creek banks as the sun set.
Was she nervous? They weren’t strangers. She trusted him. At least until last winter she’d trusted him, but then things had changed. They both had changed.
It wasn’t until he saw the horse’s ears rotate toward him that he realized he’d sighed. He straightened to take a look at Molly’s decimated bouquet. Was she thinking of Edward? The thought soured his stomach. Maybe he was better off not knowing.
The horse required a tug to convince it to turn onto Church Street instead of Mill Street. Molly resisted even more.
“Can’t we go to the mill?”
“Tonight? No one is there.”
“But we own it now. Don’t you want to see it?”
“There’s another piece of property I’m more curious about.” He gave her the beguiling smile that usually earned him a halfhearted reprimand, but Molly wasn’t looking. His heart sunk further. “It’s your day, my dear. Let’s go to the mill.”
His fears multiplied with each moment that she failed to reassure him. The reasons Molly had refused to marry him in the first place returned to mock him. He wasn’t rich and she’d always wanted to handle investments and property. Was he merely a means to that end? Had she settled on running her parents’ mill and needed his help to make it a success?
They rolled toward the riverbed. The buildings and machinery, the belts, the stacks of lumber, the barns holding wagon teams should have thrilled him, should have filled him with the pride of ownership, but he was more concerned by the distance growing between his new bride and him.
Bailey stopped the wagon by the vacant office and came around to help Molly step down. As soon as her feet touched the gravel drive, she strode toward the river, leaving him behind.
“Molly, I don’t know what’s upset you, but I’d think you could at least talk to me about it. If you want to be alone, I understand.” He followed in her wake. “All right, that’s a fib. I don’t understand, but I’m willing to hear you out.”
At the riverbank she stopped. She pulled her hatpin out from her hat and let the plumed creation float to the ground. She reached behind her and fumbled with the buttons at her waist, her eyes filling with frustrated tears.
“What are you doing?” Should he thank his lucky stars or have her put into an asylum?
She wrestled her overskirt down to her ankles and pulled her white petticoats free. Her hands stretched behind her shoulder blades as she tried to jerk more buttons loose. “Are you going to just stand there and stare?” she asked.
“Yes, I am.”
Probably not the best answer. She was upset and deserved a more sensitive response, but his manners had plumb given out.
She spun away, leaving a lacy trail behind as she marched to the thick undergrowth on the bank. He barely got a peek at her chemise cover before she disappeared from view.
“How about I’ll wait here until you tell me what to do?” he called.
The branches swayed violently. Bailey tried not to imagine what articles of clothing she was wrestling off, but what was he supposed to do? This didn’t sound like any honeymoon story he’d ever heard.
———
Molly loved Bailey. She wanted to marry him like nothing she’d ever wanted before, but since their engagement she’d forced it from her mind. Once they were married, she knew this moment would arrive. Unavoidable. She’d tried to forget, tried to pretend that something would intervene and it wouldn’t be as difficult as she feared, but here she was and it was worse. Her hurt couldn’t be removed. Bailey couldn’t be spared.
With shaking hands she shed her boots and stockings and stepped off the steep bank into the river. The cool water swirled around her knees. Her chemise floated as she waded deeper—waist high, shoulder high. Until this moment she didn’t know what she was going to do, but once here it seemed natural. Years had passed since she’d last taken a dip in the river. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be this free, but she also felt exposed.
Wrapping her arms across her chest, she hovered upriver behind the stand of bushes where her gown lay, refusing to let the water carry her any further. She was exposed, and not for the first time. This wasn’t the first time, and Bailey knew it. She hadn’t been forced. She hadn’t been abused. She’d been willing.
And now she had nothing to give Bailey that was new. She had nothing left.
A shadow fell across the water. She lifted her head. Bailey stood on the bank, his jacket and shoes removed. Molly didn’t have to drop much further for the water to hit her chin, but she did anyway.
“I love you, Molly.”
He didn’t ask. He didn’t require an explanation. But he deserved one.
“I wish
. . .” She let the water cover her mouth. Her hair floated in front of her, wrapping around her neck. She pulled the tendrils away. “I wish this water could wash away every bad thing I’ve done. I wish the memories could float away, over the dam and out to the sea.”
“It’s not water that cleanses us. You know that.”
Yes, praise God, she knew that. “I’ve been forgiven, but I haven’t made it right with you. I can’t make it right. All I can do is promise that I’ll be faithful to you from this moment on.”
“And that’s enough.”
She watched the ripples pass, savored the caress of the water as it glided across her skin and tugged on her petticoats. She released her arms and let her fingers spread, dividing the water into ribbons as it slipped through. God had forgiven her. Bailey accepted her. Could she forgive herself?
Since returning home, Molly had found the courage to keep living. She’d learned to soldier on, to fight for her future, but she had forgotten how to be vulnerable.
Molly took a deep breath and submerged herself completely. Her scalp tingled as the air bubbles floated from her locks. She was weightless, innocent in this hidden world where no one could accuse her, no one knew her past. But she couldn’t stay forever.
She lifted her head and waited for the water to clear from her face before opening her eyes. But at a mighty splash she had to peek. Bailey had disappeared, and the ripples in the water gave her a clue as to his whereabouts. They moved in her direction, bubbles outlining a path that was coming uncomfortably close. He emerged a few feet away and waited, as if watching for her reaction.
“Oh, Bailey. Your suit! It’s brand-new.”
“Don’t worry. The expensive parts are hanging over there on the bushes.”
“Good. I didn’t want you to ruin—” She stopped as he stood his full height. His white shirt clung to him like wet paint. She hadn’t realized how bright the moonlight was.
He seemed unaware of his effect on her but watched the river as it swept past them. “I think you have the right idea, Molly. We need a fresh start. You aren’t the only one with a past to repent of.”
Regina Jennings Page 30