Lone Star Hero

by Jennie Jones

  Alice smiled, then patted Molly’s hand. “I don’t push, I guide. I can only do that if I get the message that guidance is needed.”

  Molly lowered her voice even more in case the man in question had stepped closer and might hear their conversation. “Alice,” she pleaded. “What about Saul? What about Colorado and the coincidences? He found my daypack—he’s the man who handed it in to the police.”

  “Well, well,” Alice said. “Fancy that.” She smiled her slow, patient, not-telling smile.

  “We missed each other by three hours. We missed each other by minutes at the airport six years ago too,” she rushed on. “We were both there the same day. We both thought about going to Arizona then changed our minds and he came to Texas and I went to Colorado, and it scares me, Alice.”

  “And Saul Solomon?”

  “I think it scares him, too. He’s getting suspicious. Do I need to bring him to meet you?”

  “He already called in. The first night, after he’d followed you home to make sure you got there safely. He knows about me.”

  Had Molly really only met Saul and let him into her life four days ago? It felt like weeks, or months. Like years. How could any of this have happened so fast?

  “He’ll walk you home tonight,” Alice said, “not knowing that you know he’s looking after you—and then he’ll consider coming back to chat to me.”

  “With the same questions as mine,” Molly concluded. “Except I reckon he’ll be a lot more concerned about what you might say, than with his need to ask you what’s going on.”

  Alice chuckled. “You’ve got more of the gift that you’re prepared to accept, Molly.”

  Molly shook her head. “It’s a natural intuition. Just like Momma’s.”

  “Is it?” Alice asked.

  Molly didn’t want the gift. If she had it, she’d now be looking at the future vision of Saul breaking her heart, and at the sorry picture of her face, which wouldn’t hide her emotions as she watched him walk away from her and from everything she had to stay for.

  “It might be up to you to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Alice said.

  Molly sat straighter as another thought struck her. How much and how many of her thoughts could Alice read? She glanced at her grandmother, but felt nothing untoward. Alice wouldn’t look for such personal things. She’d block them.

  “You’re not going to tell me if you’ve put all this into play,” Molly said. “Are you?”

  “Doesn’t look like I am,” Alice said, and pushed a fallen log back into the fire. “I can’t teach you what you have, Molly. You’ve got to learn it yourself. Some people resist so hard, even a grand wizard would have trouble pulling them in.”

  “Are there really grand wizards?”

  “No.” Alice showed a flash of amusement. “It’s a turn of phrase. You need to hear the words and dig deeper for the meaning.”

  “I wish you’d quit with the cryptic stuff.”

  “It’s the only way to learn. Finding yourself while you figure out the words and their real meaning. You’re lucky to have the messages in the first place.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.” But it’s not as if I want this gift. “Why me and not Lauren and Pepper?”

  “It’s not their turn.”

  Molly shuddered. Momma had said the same thing. Was that just intuition? Or had something from Alice rubbed off on her daughter after all?

  “I’m not going to tell Lauren and Peper you said that.” They’d freak out.

  “Don’t just listen to what I say, Molly. Don’t just listen to the words and wait for it all to happen.”

  “Are you saying we can change fate?”

  “I reckon we’ll find out.”

  A powerful sensation hit Molly in the chest, almost suffocating her. Her mind went fuzzy but somehow she had all this clarity inside her. A bit like déjà vu but more of an internal perception than simply familiarity with something she shouldn’t be familiar with.

  She blinked, focusing on that act and not the happenings inside her. “We?” she asked. “You mean, you and me are going to find out? As in—weird stuff?”

  Alice nodded. “Don’t be frightened.”

  “I’m terrified.”

  Alice’s hand covered Molly’s. Its coolness tempered the fever of fear inside her. She turned her hand palm up, and held Alice’s hand, curling her fingers around the thinned skin on Alice’s fingers and feeling the strength her grandmother still had.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Molly was strangely quiet this morning as they drove from the hacienda into Hopeless. She’d let him drive, since he was taking the pickup on to Lubbock, and Saul was happy to be behind the wheel and in charge of his current destiny and destination. He liked walking but he missed his own vehicle. Perhaps it had been a dumb spur of the moment decision to pack up everything and leave El Paso. And yet if he hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t have come to Hopeless and wouldn’t have met his cute, currently non-talking smart-ass boss.

  He hadn’t spoken to Alice last night after all, even though he’d intended to. He’d walked Molly back to the hacienda—not that she knew he’d been walking her home—and just gone to bed, suddenly not wanting to know whatever it was Alice knew. Perhaps it was better to just forget about the weird coincidences altogether, get the damned roof on, and get out.

  He slowed the pickup and instinctively ducked his head as he drove beneath the crumbling arch at the end of the driveway.

  “We fit,” Molly said. “Don’t be a pussy.”

  “At the moment, we fit,” he reminded her. “One bad day of rain and a landslide and we won’t fit. Then who’ll be the pussy who can’t get out of her driveway?” He upped the speed and headed for Hopeless.

  The land colors around town probably appealed to Molly’s photographer’s eye. Burnt-orange earth, buff-brown hillsides with natural rock outcroppings, and green treetops, capped by a few puffy white clouds in a clear blue sky.

  It had been one hell of a view from the top of the two-story roof too. The kind of scenery Saul liked best. The kind that suggested never-ending days of hiking a trail, with nothing more to worry about than what to have for lunch, deciding where to set camp for the night, and checking that his equipment was up to standard.

  Talking about his equipment... He hadn’t slept due to thinking about what he wanted to do with Molly and telling himself that he ought not to go there. It was that photo from two years ago that had him putting a halt on any inclinations to make a move on her.

  His pretty little sister—amendment... his half sister—had persuaded him to go back to Colorado Springs and talk to her and their mother, begging him for his forgiveness for letting the cat out of the bag years earlier when she’d discovered he did not legitimately own the Solomon name. He’d agreed to the meeting because his grandpa had been taken ill with pneumonia a few days earlier, and he’d known his grandpa would have expected it of him, although Grandpa had been recovering at the ranch, and hadn’t been able to make the meeting. Much as he’d wanted to see the old man, he’d had no intention of visiting the ranch. Saul’s half sister, Karlie, hadn’t told him her brothers would be around, and so the whole talking calmly thing had gotten out of hand, resulting in a fist fight. He and his brothers—amendment... half-brothers—had always handled any childish or young men problems between them with their fists, so there wasn’t anything unusual in that except this time, it had been about reasons which were far more important than for using someone’s saddle or pinching a kiss from the girl one of them was after. So he’d left again, without finalizing anything, which suited him fine. He wasn’t going back for a second round.

  When he’d found Molly’s daypack and emptied it, looking for some ID, he’d come across her photo. Such a studious, serious expression on her non-smiling face that he’d guessed she’d forced the expression and had to hold back a natural tendency to smile while they snapped the shot. For some reason, just looking at her photo and imagining who she
was and what had been going through head to create such a look of solemn consternation, had taken away his bad mood. Although all that blond hair and her perfect green eyes hadn’t matched. Not to him. He’d wondered why she was blond when in his head he pictured a perfect brunette. Now he’d met the smart-ass spark. Unbelievable...

  “Whew, busy day in town by the look of things,” Molly said, speaking up as they drove into Hopeless.

  Saul only saw two people on the street.

  “Is that an honesty jar?” he asked as they passed an open courtyard, and a table with a small and unvaried selection of fruit and vegetables on it.

  “Yes, and so far as we know, everybody is honest.”

  “How can you tell?”

  She shrugged. “We’re very trusting. Plus nobody keeps a tally of what goes into it. We’re still waiting on the jar filling up. When that happens, we’re throwing a barbeque in the market courtyard.”

  “Some market,” Saul reflected, looking at a few rows of beet, lettuce, broccoli, and three apple trees.

  140 Paces to the Hopeless Takeout a sign said, right next to another, larger sign that stated Lost Children.

  There was a tin bucket next to the sign, painted blue and pink.

  “What if they can’t read?” he asked, indicating the sign. “And what’s in the bucket?”

  “Lollipops. If they can’t read yet, chances are they’ll stick around eating lollipops until mum or dad finds them.”

  “How many lost children have you had so far?”

  “We’re so good at looking after our tourists that we haven’t had any yet.”

  “You mean you haven’t had any tourists.”

  She reached over him and stuck her hand out of his open window. “Hi, Mr. Jack!”

  Once she’d settled back on her side of the cab and Saul had dismissed the desert-bloom fragrance of her hair and the feel of her body up against his, that made something else want to bloom, he asked, “Does Jack Upholstery get a lot of business?”

  “Mr. Jack hems a lot of things. Curtains, pants, skirts. But I’ll be giving him lots of proper upholstery work when I start my business.”

  “Would he do camping gear repairs? Sleeping bags, backpacks and stuff.”

  “Mr. Jack can turn his nimble hand to any repairs.”

  “I might get him to take a look at my tent.” He’d repaired the rip himself, but it would be good to get it properly watertight again. “Who’s that?”

  “Mrs. Wynkoop. Don’t look. Keep driving.” Molly tugged at his arm, attempting to get his attention off the open window.

  “What’s Mrs. Wynkoop’s problem?”

  “She’s a man-chaser. She always needs something drilled, fixed, or screwed.”

  Saul chuckled.

  “Don’t laugh, my friend. If she discovers you have a precious tool in your possession, she’ll have you over to her place in a tick.”

  “She’ll be out of luck.”

  “Why? Is it blunt?”

  “One day, Molly, I’m going to tell you all about my tool.” He slowed the pickup and pulled up at the salon.

  She hopped out. “See you later.”

  “What about your bicycle?” he asked, getting out of the cab. “If you forget it, you’ll be walking home, not cycling.”

  He indicated she get out of his way, and lifted it over the side rails of the pickup.

  “Alright,” she said, wheeling her bicycle to the salon. “See you later. Drive safely.”

  “What’s the rush to see me off? Perhaps I’ll see if your momma has any cake.”

  “I’ll bring some home. See you.”

  Saul followed her inside the salon. “Something up?” he asked.

  She spun to him. “Shoo.” She flapped her hands. “Off you go, no need to hang around town.”

  “Baby! Oh, you’ve brought our gorgeous roof-builder.”

  Saul smiled at Marie. He couldn’t help it, it just covered his face. “Hi, Marie. I’m off to Lubbock to get my building gear.”

  “Cake?” Momma asked.

  Saul hooked a thumb behind him. “I’d better be going.”

  “Yes, he’d better be going,” Molly said.

  “Chocolate hazelnut with a cream cheese filling. Freshly made this morning.”

  “I’ll take some cake.”

  “Molly,” Momma said. “Mr. Jack needs to talk to you. He’s got an idea for the town. He said it’s important he run it by you first, since you’re in charge.”

  “In charge of what?” she asked.

  “Thought you were the boss of everything,” Saul said.

  She pulled a face, then smiled at her mother. “Okay, Momma. I’ll go see him. I’ll have to talk to Mrs. Wynkoop too. Saul had some uncharitable thoughts about her, and I feel bad about it.”

  “I’ll go get that cake,” Marie said. “Might take me five minutes—Winnie’s finishing the frosting.”

  Momma walked down the corridor and Molly tugged at Saul’s shirt sleeve.

  “Don’t let her talk you into anything unfavorable or illegal,” she said in a hissy-sounding whisper.

  “Not a chance of that happening.”

  “You don’t know what she’s capable of.”

  “Thanks for your concern, but I can handle myself. Oh—and by the way—” He halted her as she moved away by catching hold of her arm “No walking the roof while I’m away or I’ll tell Momma.”

  She pulled out of his hold. “You wouldn’t dare. You’re a pussy.”

  “Try me.” He turned her and gave her a little push, only just managing to halt himself from slapping her best asset. “Shoo yourself.”

  He watched her walk out the door and down the street. He ought to forget the cake and get his own asset to Lubbock, but cake was cake and the Hopeless sponge was serious cake. He turned from the doorway when Molly disappeared from sight.

  Two minutes later Saul checked his watch. A dryer was tumbling in the back of the salon, and an electric mixer was whisking in the takeout. Time was ticking, as was his gut feeling he ought to get out now. Something was about to happen, and he didn’t want to know what. But it would be rude to walk out. He pulled a plastic cup from the water cooler in the salon and poured a cup.

  Davie Little pushed through the colored plastic blinds hanging in the doorway.

  “Morning,” Saul said, and received a grave frown. “Something wrong?”

  “Just got a call from Surrender,” Davie said, stepping further inside the salon. “I’ve got to go over and stop a bar fight. But that’s not my concern.”

  “There’s a bar in the next town?” Now why hadn’t he thought to stop off in Surrender instead of Hopeless?

  “Got a question for you,” Davie said.

  “Shoot.” Didn’t necessarily mean he was going to answer.

  “I want to know what your intentions are with Molly.”

  Saul met Davie’s eye. “I don’t have intentions.” Maybe one or two.

  He sipped his water. Davie was being bodyguard protector numero uno, and he was glad Molly had him around.

  “That’s good to hear,” Davie said. “Because I’ve just come back from Austin where it’s being said she’s a sexual deviant.”

  Saul choked on the water he was swallowing. “If that were true I’d have discovered it by now,” he said, when he’d gotten himself under control. “I’ve been living under the same roof for the past few nights.”

  “They’re also saying she’s greedy and that’s the reason she’s renovating the hacienda. That she intends to make money off the backs of the valley residents.”

  Saul put the plastic cup down. “Who’s spreading this nonsense about her?” Maybe he’d drive to Austin instead of Lubbock, and give them a piece of his mind.

  “Donaldson’s Developers. They’re slime. They’ll also get a gold mine if they get their hands on the valley because they have the financial resources to bulldoze it and build a long-term, money-making venture.”

  Saul’s hackles rose, but sens
e prevailed. “Do you really think Molly’s business can stop this valley takeover from happening?” It didn’t seem plausible, although he found himself hoping it would work.

  Davie narrowed his eyes.

  Wrong thing to say. Davie obviously loved Molly like a daughter, but honest to God—how could one small business that had no going concern background, no goodwill from previous customers and no tangible assets, make the difference that was needed? But it was best if he kept out of that conversation. “Need a hand in Surrender?” he asked, getting off another subject he didn’t want to think too much about. He wouldn’t be around to see how it all went for Molly.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got it covered.”

  Davie was the only capable looking guy he’d seen or heard of around here—capable as in able to use his strength when needed—and if he was the only capable guy in the valley, he must deal with any nonsense that found its way here. Saul didn’t like to see a good guy have to cope with everything on his own.

  “I believe you when you say your intentions toward Molly are decent, Solomon,” Davie said, his tone sincere.

  “Thanks.” Sexual deviant? Where the hell had they gotten that impression from?

  “Just a few words of advice.”

  Saul raised his eyebrows in a questioning way, not about to say he didn’t need advice.

  “Don’t let Marie push you around.”

  Saul smiled. “You think she can?”

  Davie grinned in a you-don’t-stand-a-chance manner. “Stay good to Molly.”

  Saul straightened. “I don’t intend to be anything else.”

  “Don’t mess with her unless you intend to see it through to the end.”

  “What end would that be?’

  “Guess you’ll find out. Oh, and lastly, listen to Alice. She’s right.”

  “About what?”

  “About whatever it is that brought you here.”

  “You know that reason?” Not possible.

  Even Saul couldn’t put his finger on why he’d chosen to come to Hopeless. He could have walked out of the canyon straight to the airport and bought a ticket to Idaho, regardless of daddy ex-detective tracing him.