by Jodi Thomas
He glanced down at his clothes in comparison. The leather jacket he wore had turned dark brown with rain and smelled somewhat of the animal who first wore it. His hair and beard were thick with natural curl when dry and downright bushy when wet. Mud clung to him by the pound.
He glanced at Molly, who silently stared at him. She was probably wondering whether to marry him or plant him.
Wolf took out his handkerchief and wiped his face as he introduced his future wife to the preacher.
She shook hands nervously then turned to face Wolf. “Will you shave before we marry?”
Wolf watched her closely. He could see the anxiety in her eyes, blended with determination. She was going through with this wedding because she saw no other road to take. He shouldn’t try to fool himself into believing it was for any different reason. “I will not,” he answered. “Does that change your mind about the ceremony?”
“It does not.” She lifted her chin. “Only there will be no kissing afterward. I’ll never kiss a man who isn’t clean-shaven.”
“Fair enough,” he decided. Right now all he wanted to do was marry her and know that she’d be safe. If he shaved before the service, she might refuse to marry him on other grounds. “I’ll do without a kiss.”
The preacher removed his Bible from a pouch beneath his coat and cleared his throat. “We’ll need two witnesses before we start.”
Josh stepped from the kitchen with Callie Ann in tow. “I’ll witness,” he offered as he finished off a biscuit.
Ford nodded. “And one more.”
“I want to be a witness too,” Callie Ann said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “If Mr. Josh is one, I want to be one.”
“I’m afraid you’re too young,” the preacher answered sternly.
“Then Uncle Orson will,” she said. “He’s older than dirt.”
Wolf left the room with Molly trying to explain to Callie Ann why Uncle Orson couldn’t witness and Callie Ann threatening to cry if she didn’t get her way. The preacher muttered what sounded like Bible verses about children. No one, including the child, seemed to be listening.
Walking out the back door of the store onto a small screened-in porch, Wolf grinned as he looked through the rain. Just as he’d hoped, he saw Charlie Filmore huddled beneath the undertaker’s woodshed. He could see the little man’s holey boots propped at one end of a long line of lumber.
“Charlie! Charlie Filmore!” Wolf yelled. “Come here a minute.”
A man less than five feet tall staggered from beneath the wood, dusting shavings from his unruly hair. “I ain’t done nothing, Captain. I swear I ain’t.”
“I didn’t say you had.” Wolf waved him in. “I just need you to witness a wedding.”
Charlie stared at the distance between his warm hiding place and the back porch of Molly’s store. “Does it pay?”
“Two drinks,” Wolf yelled.
“A bottle.”
“Three drinks.” Wolf swore beneath his breath. He was one of the few people in town who didn’t buy Charlie drinks, but the man considered nothing else worth bargaining for. Most men in the saloons would buy him a shot just to have the little man move on down the bar and not linger too long at their side.
“A bottle.” Charlie must have been able to tell even through the rain that he had the upper hand.
“All right. Get over here.”
The drunk wrapped his only blanket over him and limped toward the drugstore’s back entrance.
When he entered, he hung the blanket on a hook meant for coats.
Wolf tried not to react to the shock of seeing Charlie close up. But the damage three bullets had done to his face always startled Wolf at first glance.
Charlie told folks he considered himself the luckiest man alive. He’d fought in four battles of the war and been shot and left among the dead three times. Death certificates had already been signed before he managed to convince them he still lived. The fourth time he went into battle he’d made it through the day without a scratch and drank himself to sleep to celebrate. An hour later, a supply wagon loaded down with wounded drove over his legs, breaking the bones in so many places they never healed completely. After that, Charlie quit the war and went on to his chosen career of town drunk.
“Where’s the bottle?” When Charlie smiled, his face looked even more distorted. He was a walking reminder to every man who fought off the nightmares of war.
“You’ll get it after you witness. You can write your name on the marriage certificate, can’t you?”
Charlie looked insulted. “I went to fourth grade. Not all my brains splattered out. I can write my name forward and backward.” He lifted his chin. “Besides, I know all about certificates. I got three death certificates with my name on them. I reckon I was the dyingest man in the war.”
“Forward will do. Come on.” Wolf had to wonder about a man whose only source of pride lay in dying.
Wolf hoped he looked apologetic as he brought Charlie in. He probably should have taken the time to find someone respectable, or at least a person who bathed yearly, but he was afraid Molly might change her mind if there were many more delays. He hoped she’d seen the man before or she might scream. Charlie had caused more than one woman around town to faint when he’d appeared during daylight hours.
To Molly’s credit, she only blinked as Charlie stepped from behind Wolf.
Wolf thought the preacher might break into a full round of fire-and-brimstone preaching when he took one look at Charlie. He shook like he might be the one to turn and run, but Callie Ann broke Pastor Ford’s trance by hurrying over to Charlie and shaking his hand.
“Evening, Mr. Charlie. I’m glad you came inside. Uncle Orson worried about you being out there in the rain.”
Charlie patted the child’s head. “I’m dry enough. Tell Orson thanks for the worry, though.”
“Did you come in to be a witness?”
Charlie stood a little taller. “I reckon I did.”
“They wouldn’t let me. Uncle Orson and I are the watchers. Which is a very important thing to have at a wedding. But not as important as being a witness.”
Charlie’s grin sent one side of his face into a thousand wrinkles. “Maybe you’ll grow up to be a witness if you do a good job as a watcher.”
“Maybe.” Callie Ann moved to the counter and climbed atop Molly’s work stool. “I’m ready,” she said as if they’d all been waiting for her to start watching.
The preacher cleared his throat and positioned himself so he didn’t have to look at Charlie during the service. “Shall we begin? Captain Hayward, Miss Donivan, are you both ready?”
Charlie snorted. “Captain, you the one getting married?”
Wolf glared at the little man in what he hoped was a threat-of-death stare. “I am, and I’ll remind you, Charlie Filmore, you are a witness, not a participant.”
Charlie nodded and tried his best to stand straight and sober.
“We’re ready,” Molly answered the preacher as she placed her gloved hand on Wolf’s arm.
Wolf didn’t hear most of the words. He kept saying over and over in his mind that he was marrying Molly. His Molly. It didn’t matter about his clothes or how he looked; she was standing up with him.
The preacher stopped to ask their given names, but Wolf just said Wolf would do and Ford didn’t argue, saying only that as long as he used proper names on the paper that was enough.
When it came time to put the ring on, Wolf’s hand shook for the first time in his life. The plain gold band looked perfect on Molly’s long slender finger and she smiled that he’d thought of such a detail.
“It’s lovely,” she whispered. “I’ll give it back whenever you ask.”
“Promise you’ll wear it until then,” Wolf answered, ignoring the preacher’s shocked expression at her comment.
“I promise.”
Brother Ford collected the signatures of Charlie and Josh while Wolf and Molly faced one another. He wasn’t sure what t
o do. She’d said there would be no kissing, and he had a feeling Molly usually meant every word she said. But he thought they should do something, and shaking hands seemed a little odd for two people who’d just said they would “love, honor and obey.”
“Mrs. Hayward,” he said close to her ear, “would you have any objection to a hug?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “I would not.” Her hands rose to rest on his shoulders.
Wolf closed the distance between them, lifting her off the ground and into his embrace. She laughed as he hugged her, twirling her around as though she were weightless.
His Molly felt as she had all those years ago. A perfect fit in his arms.
EIGHT
MOLLY DRESSED CALLIE ANN FOR BED and sat beside her long after the child drifted off to sleep. The little princess had been in Molly’s life only a few days, yet somehow she and her strange ways had become a part of Molly’s routine. She’d be sad when Wolf put the child, and her invisible uncle, on the stage to another stop. Another relative.
Moonlight filtered in through the designs in the lace curtains of the windows, making the walls a gallery of pale shapes and forms. All that had happened during the day circled around Molly amid the shadowy patterns.
“What have I done?” she whispered to the empty bunk below the girl’s bed.
Uncle Orson didn’t seem any more inclined to answer than he did to appear.
Leaning against the wall, Molly closed her eyes. She was a rational woman, never given to unpredictability or foolishness. She liked everything organized and planned. Even during the war, when traveling with her father, they’d always functioned with rules and routine. Molly knew what to do. What was expected of her.
But these past few days something had happened in her world…something far more than the threats against her and the store and even greater than finding herself truly alone for the first time.
A man named Wolf had walked, or rather crashed, into her life. He was no gentleman. Not like the fine ones who flirted with her back home. But there was a gentleness about him that touched her as none of them ever could. He would never be her love. He’d always be her friend, though, and for her, that would be enough. He wasn’t much to look at, but she felt no shame with him at her side.
Molly closed her eyes. Maybe she married him for protection. Maybe because she didn’t want to be an old maid like her two aunts, who wrote of their pets as if they were children. Or maybe, for once, something just felt right without explanation. Marrying Wolf felt right.
This could be the best of both worlds. She could still have her dreams of Benjamin and his perfect love in her imagination, and she’d have Wolf as a friend in her reality. She could trust him. Any man who settled for a hug on his wedding day was not interested in her as a woman. He had his life. She had hers. With the marriage, their worlds crossed nicely, without friction or complication. His name would give her protection, and she, in turn, offered him a base to return to.
Molly jerked suddenly and realized she’d fallen asleep in the chair. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but her back ached and her shoulder tingled with numbness from leaning into the wall.
She stretched and moved silently out of Callie Ann’s room and down the stairs. Wolf waited for her in the kitchen. His empty coffee cup and papers covered the table.
“I thought you’d turned in,” he said as he rubbed his eyes.
“I just came to say good night and make sure you got settled.” She glanced at the few bags in one corner, wanting to ask if that was all he had, but knowing it must be. “Was your landlord surprised when you picked up your things?”
“Granny Gravy?” Wolf laughed. “She hugged me then scolded me for never bringing you by for supper. Seems she thinks the least I should have done was introduce you to her before I married you.”
“The two of you were close?”
Wolf winked. “Jealous wife already?”
“Oh no.” Molly felt her face redden before she realized he was kidding. “I just wondered.”
“I’ve stored my gear there for two years, but I doubt I’ve spent more than two weeks beneath her roof. I think she’ll miss the steady money more than me. She’s a nosy old bag, but there’s a good heart in there somewhere. I imagine she’d come through if you needed a friend.”
He refilled his cup and changed the subject. “I thought I’d sleep on the floor in the front tonight. Just in case anyone plans to make a midnight call.” He pointed to where he’d spread a bedroll that looked to be made of hides. “Tomorrow, I’ll help you clean out Ephraim’s room, but I don’t know how long I’ll be in town. Several of the young rangers have already headed for the border to fight off trouble brewing there.”
Molly poured herself less than half a cup of coffee, then added milk. Without a word, she sat in the other chair. The small room seemed tiny with Wolf’s bulk beside her. She pulled her journal from between the flour tin and the salt shaker. Every night, without fail, she wrote in her journal, as she had since she was a child.
Before she could start writing, Wolf pushed a paper across the table. “I made a list of those I think of as family. It’s not very long. I’d appreciate you notifying them if something happens to me since, I guess, legally, you’re now my next of kin.”
Wolf studied the other papers. “These are statements from a handful of banks. Over the past few years, I’ve opened small accounts here and there so I could have money on the road if I needed it. I’ve already written notes informing them you’re to be given whatever is in the accounts if you ask.”
Molly stared in disbelief. “Captain, you don’t have to do this.” All she’d expected was his name in the bargain they’d made, nothing more. “I don’t expect you to support me. I can take care of myself.”
“I guessed you’d say that, but the money is there if you need it. I want this completed tonight. In my line of work, a man never knows how long he’ll live. I’ll not leave a wife owing for my funeral…even a wife in name only.”
“But surely you have someone else?”
Wolf shook his head. “No one. My sister in Fort Worth has her hands full with two little ones. My friends, the McLains, would have taken care of things. Even after I’m gone, they’ll stand beside you if you have any trouble. But should something happen to me, I’d appreciate you making any arrangements.”
He said the words directly, without emotion. Molly felt the loneliness in his statement. Some folks might have thought him cold to be organizing his affairs on what was his wedding night, but Molly understood. He was trying. He knew she was a woman of order. He wanted to leave his books the same. But judging from the stains and wrinkles on most of the papers, order was not one of his strong traits.
“Can I help?” she asked, realizing he was doing all this for her, just in case something happened to him.
Within a few minutes, they had their heads together, adding up numbers and trying to figure out where some of the small towns were that he’d left money. Compared to many she’d known back East, Wolf Hayward had very little, but he was solid. He had enough to handle anything life might toss his way.
His willingness to give her all he had worked for over the past four years overwhelmed her. She could write him a draft for ten times that much from her bank in Philadelphia and it would not be nearly as great a gift.
As she figured the last list of accounts, he leaned close, sliding his arm along the back of her chair. The action was natural. Something most couples wouldn’t even notice. But Molly felt the warmth of his arm. She had to start over twice, for her mind kept wishing he would pull her an inch closer into his embrace and just hold her.
She’d always been so proper, so distant no man had ever just grabbed her and hugged her. Even her father held her gently as if she might break if he embraced her. His almost hugs and her aunts’ air kisses near her cheek were all she’d ever known growing up. She’d already learned this man she married knew how to hug.
But of course he di
dn’t hug her now. She’d been clear. She wanted only his name.
His nearness made her relax, and the worry she felt earlier slipped away. When he finally stacked the papers neatly into a tin box, dropped their marriage license on top, and locked it, they both felt that all was in order.
He handed her the key. “Put this in a safe place, Molly. I’ll store the box under my bed once we get it built.”
While she put the key in a tiny drawer on the kitchen shelf, he stood, almost knocking the chair over. “I’ll be saying good night now.” He straightened the chair but didn’t look at her.
She turned to face him. With his coat and vest off, she could see that the man she married was as solid as his accounts. He certainly wasn’t a man who dressed to impress anyone. Somehow his clothes fit him and the life he lived. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like in a suit, all shaved and trimmed.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For helping me out. I think no matter what, married or not, we’ll always be friends.”
“But never lovers.” His foot had caught the corner of the table, and he mumbled the words as he stumbled forward.
His face was unreadable. His eyes didn’t meet hers. Yet his statement surprised her, caught her off guard, for she hadn’t thought of it and was shocked he had.
“No.” She tried to keep her voice just as level, just as unreadable. “Never lovers. I gave my heart once. Once was enough.”
“Did he hurt you so badly?” Wolf kept his head low as if he knew he were prying, yet couldn’t help asking.
“No,” she answered as she moved toward the stairs. Now it was her turn to look away and not meet his eyes. “He just never returned as he promised he would. But a part of me still loves him, and there is no room for another. A part of me will always belong to Benjamin.”
She hurried up the steps before he could see her tears. Molly hadn’t said Benjamin’s name out loud in years. She thought the pain would have grown dull, but it still stabbed her heart. To try to explain would only make matters worse. Wolf would think her a fool for loving a man she’d only met once, for staking her life on a promise and a kiss, for believing a stranger.