Читать книгу A Family For The Rancher - Louise Gouge M. - Страница 6
ОглавлениеCHAPTER ONE
Little Horn, Texas, June 1895
A full hour before the sun peeked over the horizon, Molly Carson Langley slid out of bed. Ranch work started early in Texas Hill Country. If she wished to make her morning journey before the sun rose, she must hurry.
With fast, measured steps, she padded through the room. The hardwood floor was polished to a smooth patina and felt warm beneath her bare feet. A muffled sigh slipped past her lips. After three years of marriage and successfully managing her own household, she didn’t belong in her childhood home anymore.
She wasn’t sure where she belonged. Until she figured it out, a pair of motherless four-year-olds needed her. That mattered. It had to matter. Of course it mattered.
Jaw set at a determined angle, Molly stuffed her feet inside a pair of ankle boots and put on her favorite calico dress with the lavender floral print. She wound her blond hair in a loose braid down her back, then packed a small bag with personal items from her dresser. A hairbrush, a rack of pins, several ribbons in colors she hoped the girls would like, and her worn Bible with the pages crinkled at the edges.
One glance out the window told her the morning sky was shifting from black to deep purple. Dawn was drawing near.
Hurry, Molly.
She made her way toward the door. The other occupant in the room slept peacefully, her soft, feminine snoring the only sound cutting through the still, humid air.
Without breaking stride, Molly smiled down at her sister. At sixteen, the dreams of youth were still fresh and untarnished in Daisy’s young mind. Seven years older, Molly could hardly relate to the girl. The death of her husband eleven months ago made it all the more difficult.
Her feet grew heavy as stone and, for a brief moment, despair filled Molly’s heart. She’d lost more than her husband. So. Much. More.
No. She would not feel sorry for herself. If he were here, George would tell her that the good Lord had a plan for her life. No matter how dark it seemed right now, the particulars were already worked out. She just needed to have faith.
Molly wasn’t as faithful as her preacher husband had been. Not anymore. Perhaps she never had been.
At least she’d had somewhere to go after George’s death. Molly would concentrate on being grateful her family had welcomed her home.
Her future might look bleak, but she was still young, still vital, still necessary to a family facing their own tragedy. When she’d returned home, she’d never expected her best friend to die suddenly and leave behind twin daughters. Molly would take care of Penelope’s children until she was no longer needed.
Resolve firmly in place, she slung the satchel over her shoulder and tiptoed into the empty hallway. She entered the kitchen, took two full steps and froze.
A pang of guilt whispered through her.
“Good morning, Mama.” Molly adopted what she hoped was an airy tone. “You’re up early.”
“I was going to say the same about you.” The soft, musical lilt was in stark contrast to the concern in her mother’s eyes.
Even after birthing five children, Helen Carson remained a beautiful woman. Her blond hair, streaked with silver strands, was pulled back in a serviceable bun that revealed a face nearly identical to her two daughters. Save for a few lines and wrinkles, the high cheekbones were the same, as were the straight nose, pale blue eyes and stubborn set of her chin.
“Well, I’m off to the Thorn ranch.” Molly attempted to shift around her mother.
“I’d like a word with you before you leave.”
Molly tried not to sigh. This was the reason she’d woken early: to avoid a difficult conversation with her mother.
Helen Carson was fiercely protective of all her children, and that included her oldest daughter. What she refused to understand was that Molly was a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. “There is nothing you can say that will change my mind.”
Her mother’s features showed distress and something else―not censure, precisely, but close. “It’s been nearly a year since your husband’s death. George wouldn’t want you hiding from the world.”
“I’m not hiding from the world.” Molly blew out a frustrated burst of air, hating the defensive note in her voice. “I’m serving a family in need.”
George would understand. He would even encourage her. An itinerant preacher, his personal mission had been to help the less fortunate. Before he’d contracted the fever that ultimately killed him, George had shared a love of serving others side by side with Molly.
Her marriage had been a happy one. Until Molly failed to provide her husband with the one thing he wanted most—a child. She’d been bitterly disappointed over her failure as a wife. George’s resentment had only added to her shame.
If her mother knew the truth, Molly was certain she’d give her words of comfort, the kind meant to heal her troubled heart. But Molly didn’t want sympathy. She certainly didn’t want to discuss her secret shame.
Anything but that.
She stood straighter, lifted her chin and attempted a second time to step around her mother.
Helen Carson moved directly into her path. “It’s been six months since Penelope became ill and died. Surely there is someone else who can care for her daughters.”
“There is no one else.”
Besides, Molly had given her friend her word. Even if she hadn’t made a promise, the twins needed a woman’s influence in their lives. They had their father, yet even after six months he was still absorbed in his own grief. And lately, Molly had noticed him distancing himself from his daughters, barely going through the motions of being a parent.
Their uncle sometimes stepped in and filled the void. Molly admired him for that—oh, how, she admired him—but CJ had his hands full running the Triple-T ranch.
“If you won’t listen to reason,” her mother said, “then at least consider taking Daisy with you.”
“You need her here.”
Her mother opened her mouth to argue.
Molly cut her off. “Please try to understand. Until Ned marries again, or another solution presents itself, I will honor my promise to Penelope. If our roles were reversed, she would do the same for me.”
“I can’t help but think there’s something you’re not telling me, some reason you’re not sharing with me.”
“The twins need me.” What woman didn’t want to be needed, especially one who couldn’t have children of her own? “I should think that reason enough.”
“Molly, won’t you please be honest with me?”
“It’s nearly dawn.” She looked pointedly at the band of gray riding low on the horizon. “The girls will be awake soon.”
This time, when Molly made for the back door, her mother pulled her into a fierce hug. “As soon as you’re ready to tell me what’s troubling you, I’ll be here to listen.”
“There’s nothing troubling me.” She stepped out of the embrace. “Other than my concern for two small children.”
With her mother’s sigh of resignation ringing in her ears, Molly hurried out of the house. She made quick work of saddling Sadie, the ten-year-old gray mare born the same year as Molly’s youngest brother, Donny.
Halfway between her family’s large spread and the much smaller Triple-T ranch, Molly felt the tension in her shoulders melt away. A soft flutter of air stirred the leaves of the Texas oaks nestled in a small grove on her left. She breathed in, smelled the faint scents of sassafras and wild cherry.
Molly loved this time of morning, when night slowly surrendered to day and everything felt new again. When possibilities stretched before her and the future didn’t feel so hopeless.
Rolling Hills ranch was the largest cattle operation in the area. Tall, rugged bluffs peppered the landscape as far as the eye could see. The green leaves of cottonwood trees shared space with large granite and limestone rocks. The sound of water sloshing on the lakeshore near the edge of her parents’ property accompanied a bobwhite’s distinctive whistle.
A movement in the distance caught her attention. Narrowing her eyes, she watched a horse and rider race across a flat patch of land. The man’s slouched posture was at odds with the magnificence of the black stallion beneath him.
Molly’s stomach dropped.
She knew that horse, and the rider. But the two did not belong together. Why hadn’t Ned taken his own gelding? What was he doing with his brother’s horse?
No one rode Thunder but CJ. The animal was too valuable to be mishandled and…
Molly had a terrible, awful feeling about this.
Please, Lord, let me be wrong. The evidence suggested otherwise. She should have seen this coming.
Why hadn’t she put the pieces together before now?
Ned had become increasingly morose in recent weeks, muttering things under his breath such as “What’s the use?” and “I can’t keep doing this.” Molly hadn’t thoroughly understood what he meant and she certainly hadn’t wanted to overstep her bounds. After all, she was helping out the Thorn family in a temporary capacity.
Another unsettling thought occurred. Surely Ned hadn’t left the twins alone in the house.
What if he had?
Molly wrapped her arms around Sadie’s neck. “Come on, old girl.” She gave a gentle kick to the mare’s ribs. “I need you to run faster than you ever have before.”
The horse responded with a burst of speed. Once they were on Thorn land, Molly urged Sadie to a trot, guiding her past the outbuildings, around the corral and on to the main house, a simple, one-story, whitewashed clapboard structure.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed smoke coming from the bunkhouse, a sure sign Cookie had already started making breakfast for the handful of ranch hands CJ employed.
Was CJ eating with the hands, as he did every morning? Was he even aware his brother had left the main house?
Molly pulled Sadie to a halt and scrambled off the horse’s back. She hurried onto the porch she and the girls had swept clean yesterday afternoon. Without bothering to knock, she rushed inside the house.
Thick gloom closed in around her. The silence was so heavy she decided the children were surely still asleep.
The children.
Molly must get to Anna and Sarah. She must ensure they were safe. She moved deeper into the house and froze when she caught a faint whiff of whiskey. Oh, Ned.
The situation was far worse than Molly had feared, and certainly explained Ned’s increasing unpredictability. Her friend’s husband had evidently turned to the bottle to swallow his grief. Unfortunately, consuming alcohol was not a wise solution.
Heart in her throat, Molly blinked through the darkness. Her vision slowly cleared, then locked on the tall silhouette of a familiar figure.
A ripple of longing flowed through her before she ruthlessly shut it down.
CJ Thorn stood before her, silent, his eyes on the piece of paper in his hand. His features were inscrutable in the dim light cast by the lamp on the table beside him, but Molly knew every line and curve by heart.
She knew every precious angle of his handsome face, the strong, square jaw and the dark eyebrows slashed over eyes the color of freshly brewed coffee. He was more than merely good-looking. He was a man of integrity and one who’d worked hard to keep his brother from following in their father’s footsteps.
Ned had taken to whiskey, anyway. CJ must be so disappointed.
“CJ?” She gently touched his sleeve.
He looked up. Blinked. Then blinked again, as if he hadn’t expected to find her standing so close.
“I saw Ned riding away from the ranch.” She waited a beat, then supplied the rest of the bad news. “He was on your horse.”
Surprise flared in his eyes. “Ned took Thunder?”
She nodded.
Anger replaced the earlier shock, followed by such sorrow Molly could actually feel the weight of the emotion in her own heart. The vulnerable expression made him more compelling than usual.
CJ Thorn was not a man who needed to be more compelling than usual.
The children, she told herself. Anna and Sarah must come first. With the twins in mind, Molly released CJ’s arm and stepped back.
* * *
In the predawn gloom, CJ tried to focus on the woman standing beside him. But his mind kept returning to Ned and the terrible choice his brother had made.
No matter how hard CJ fought to keep his breathing steady, his gut roiled with regret. This was the moment he’d been dreading for weeks, when his brother gave up completely.
Rage boiled into something CJ couldn’t begin to name. Ned had not only made his escape on CJ’s prize stallion, he’d not only abandoned his own children, but he’d left the girls alone in the house. Any number of things could have happened to them.
Even for Ned, that was an all-time low. What was next? Cattle rustling? Bank robbery?
For months, CJ had held out hope that the worst of Ned’s grief was behind him. He’d prayed that his younger brother was on the brink of returning to the man he’d been while Penelope was alive.
Obviously, that had been wishful thinking.
All the emotion CJ had been holding back threatened to spill over, filling him until he thought he might explode.
“Is that a note from Ned?” Molly’s voice seemed to come at him through a thick wall of water.
He gave a brief nod before returning his gaze to the hastily scrawled note. The handwriting was messy, the message even messier.
Ned had always preferred the easier tasks on the ranch, but he’d been a decent man at the core. Penelope had brought out the best in him. Since her death, Ned had slipped deeper and deeper into despair.
CJ thought he’d be able to save Ned, given time.
Time had just run out.
“CJ, did you hear me?”
He lifted his head and glanced once again at the woman he’d grown to rely on far more than he cared to admit. “Ned took off.”
“Yes, I know.”
His heart began to thump harder.
Five years peeled away and he was twenty-two again, meeting Molly for the first time. She’d been full of light and goodness back then, the same as now. Just being in her company made him wish for…more. But he knew he could never reach so far above his station in life. He’d learned that cruel lesson from another woman and her upright, proper parents.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s happened.”
He handed her Ned’s note.
Feeling oddly nostalgic, he held silent while she read. During Ned and Penelope’s courtship, Molly had acted as chaperone. CJ had been attracted to her from the start. But he’d never let her know. Lillian’s harsh words had taught him a valuable lesson. No decent woman from a respectable family would have a man like him, a man with the last name Thorn.
Penelope had taken the risk and married Ned. Look how that had ended.
“Oh, Ned.” Molly’s hand flew to her mouth. “How could you?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question.”
How could his brother surrender custody of his own daughters to CJ?
Eyes shadowed with sadness, Molly returned the piece of paper. Her fingertips grazed CJ’s knuckles. The touch was barely a whisper, yet he felt the impact like a blow to the gut.
He closed his fist around the words Ned had penned. In a quick, careless scrawl of ink across paper, his brother had become the man CJ feared was deep inside every Thorn. He shuddered to think what would become of Ned now that he’d given in to the dark side of his nature.
“I suppose I understand how he could give up on himself,” Molly said. “But how could he give up on his own children?”
CJ heard the tears in her voice, saw the sorrow in the slump of her shoulders. He wanted to comfort her.
He took a large step back instead.
An awareness of her as a woman had been gnawing at him ever since she’d taken over Sarah and Anna’s full-time care following Penelope’s funeral.
Though he’d often wondered why Molly continued to serve his family, and CJ hadn’t interacted with her very often, he’d been grateful for her help. The girls adored her and he didn’t take that for granted. She’d been the stable force in all their lives. He realized that now.
Once, months ago, CJ had offered to pay Molly for her kindness. She’d been insulted by the mere suggestion and so he’d never brought up the subject again.
Did she understand how much his family relied on her? How much he relied on her? Every day, he felt her presence acutely, hovering on the edge of his life but not really part of it.
“I hadn’t realized Ned’s grief was this great. I thought…” Her brows pulled together in confusion. “How did I miss this?”
“We both missed it.”
Ned hadn’t begun drinking immediately following Penelope’s death, yet it hadn’t been very long afterward. When CJ had first confronted his brother, Ned had claimed he didn’t have a problem. He simply missed his wife. Apparently, the loneliness hit hardest at night, and he needed help sleeping. He’d promised CJ that it was only one drink, after the girls were in bed.
CJ had wanted to believe his brother. For a while, there’d been no reason not to trust Ned’s word. Still, CJ should have been more observant. He should have seen the signs that Ned was slowly spiraling out of control, in the same way their father had.
“Surely your brother will come to his senses and return in a day or two.”
“Perhaps.” CJ spoke without conviction. There was an unmistakable finality to Ned’s actions. By leaving a note that included awarding CJ custody of the twins, his brother had made his intentions clear.
What had Ned been thinking?
CJ knew nothing about raising children, especially girls. He was a rancher, most comfortable around cows and horses. The Triple-T was barely showing a profit. He couldn’t run the ranch and take care of two small children at the same time.
His life had just changed dramatically. He needed to move back into the main house. The twins couldn’t sleep here alone. He’d have to learn new skills, too many to sort through at once.
“I should start breakfast before the girls wake up.”
Molly’s words brought CJ great comfort and reminded him that decisions didn’t have to be made today. Watching her in the pale dawn light, he wondered just how much she did around the house when he was out working the ranch. “I’d be grateful.”
“It’s my pleasure.” She turned quiet, thoughtful. “I see no reason to upset the girls just yet. We probably should tell them as little as possible and hope that Ned changes his mind.”
This was one of the reasons CJ admired Molly. She always put the twins’ needs first. “We’re in agreement.”
Her smile filled him with the sense of peace he craved, but always hovered just out of reach. He cleared his throat. “I’ll head over to the bunkhouse and see if anyone spoke with Ned this morning. Maybe he told one of the men where he was going.”
Or maybe Cookie knew something about Ned’s departure.
Frowning, CJ reached for his hat, slapped it against his thigh. He wasn’t looking forward to speaking with his ranch cook. The grizzled former army captain wouldn’t be sympathetic. He’d warned CJ this day was coming.
CJ had chosen to believe matters weren’t all that dire and that Ned would eventually snap out of his grief.
“We’re moving the herd to the north pasture today.” He paused at the door. “If Ned shows up—”
“I’ll send Cookie to find you.”
“Good enough.” CJ opened the door, paused when Molly called out his name.
He turned back around. The hem of her lavender dress swung in soft waves around her ankles as she approached him. Her eyes, so blue, so beautiful, held the strength of her determination. In that moment, CJ felt a little less alone.
“I want you to know I’m not going anywhere.” She gave him a warm, kind smile that reached inside his heart and squeezed. “We’re in this together. We’ll take it one day at a time.”
She couldn’t know how much her support meant. As he stared into her startling blue eyes, CJ fought to contain thoughts of what might have been, were he a different man. But he couldn’t change who he was or where he came from.
“Thank you, Molly.”
“You’re welcome.”
She was so good, so pure, so beautiful. She deserved better than a Thorn. She’d had better. She’d married a preacher.
CJ could never measure up to a man of God. He wouldn’t even try. All he could do was work to make his ranch a success and ensure that the twins had a safe, stable home. One day at a time, as Molly said, he would provide a secure, loving home for his brother’s children. Who, according to Ned’s note, were now CJ’s.
He jammed his hat on his head. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
“The girls and I will be right here.”
For now, that was enough. He turned and walked out of the house. One day at a time, he told himself. With God’s help, CJ would face the future one day at a time.
CHAPTER TWO
Molly stood immobile in the doorway, unable to tear her gaze away from CJ as he strode toward the bunkhouse. She liked the way he moved, with that loose-limbed gait of a man comfortable in his own skin. He rode a horse with equal confidence.
As if sensing her eyes on him, he looked over his shoulder. Their gazes connected and, in that instant, time stopped. A silent message passed between them, something her heart understood but her head couldn’t quite grasp. She’d never felt this connected to CJ before.
With a sad, lopsided grin, he gave a tug on his hat, then disappeared inside the bunkhouse. For several long seconds, Molly stayed where she was, drawing in air, willing her racing heartbeat to settle.
She and CJ had a common purpose now, and were facing a shared task that went beyond helping out a friend, or assisting a brother in need. There were two young girls relying on them to work together.
Momentarily overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation, Molly pressed a hand to her throat. She ached from the inside out for the Thorn family, and that included Ned.
She understood what he suffered. She’d experienced her own pain after losing George. Where she’d focused on serving others to help her through her grief, Ned had concentrated solely on himself, to the detriment of his daughters.
Sarah and Anna were too young to understand why their father had taken off without saying goodbye. If Penelope were alive, she’d be devastated by her husband’s selfish behavior.
A ragged sigh worked its way past Molly’s lips. Ned hadn’t even bothered asking CJ if he would raise the girls in his stead. He’d simply assumed.
Well, CJ wouldn’t have to care for them alone. Molly would watch the girls for as long as he needed her. Eventually, he would want a more permanent solution.
Would he take a wife?
Molly’s heart filled with two distinct emotions, first with a spark of hope, then with unspeakable sorrow. As much as she cared about CJ, and thought they would suit, she could never marry him.
A rancher required a large family. Her father had said as much, claiming his life would have been easier if he’d had ten children instead of a measly five.
Molly would love the sort of large family John Carson claimed every rancher needed, but she was incapable of bearing children. CJ deserved a woman who could give him a houseful of sons and daughters.
Taking a bracing breath, Molly stepped back inside the house and shut the door behind her. Deciding to let the girls sleep a bit longer, she entered the kitchen and went quickly to work on their breakfast. She hummed her favorite hymn, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” as she plucked three eggs out of the basket.
She’d barely pulled a clean bowl from the cupboard when a small, sleepy voice asked, “Is Pa going to eat breakfast with us?”
The question came from Sarah, the more outspoken of the twins. Even as she set aside the eggs, Molly couldn’t help noticing that the child’s first concern was for her father.
Taking a moment to think, she smiled down at the girls. Her heart gave a hard tug at the sight they made standing shoulder to shoulder in their plain white nightgowns, just inside the kitchen. Their green eyes were droopy from sleep, their baby-fine, dark brown hair pleasantly mussed.
How could Ned leave them in this house all alone, with only a hastily written note of explanation?
“It’ll just be the three of us this morning.” She filled her voice with what she hoped was a carefree inflection.
“What about Unca Corny? Maybe he could eat with us?”
Molly’s breath clogged in her throat. The girls were sweet and adorable, especially when they called CJ “Unca Corny,” their version of Uncle Cornelius. She had no idea if he liked the name, but he never corrected them, at least not in front of Molly.
“Your uncle needed to get an early start, so he’s eating in the bunkhouse with the ranch hands.”
“But…but…” Sarah’s lower lip jutted out. “I like it when Unca Corny comes over to the big house and eats with us.”
“He tells us funny stories.” The more timid of the two, Anna, stood so close to her sister she was nearly on top of her. “He makes me laugh.”
“Me, too.” Sarah grinned. “I like Unca Corny almost as much as I like Pa.”
Molly’s heart gave another hard tug. The girls would have to be told something about Ned. She was trying to decide how much to reveal when Sarah came to stand beside her. “I heard Pa leave when it was still dark outside. He stumbled over a chair and said a naughty word.”
Molly tried not to show any outward reaction to this disturbing piece of information. Inwardly, she sighed. “I’m sure whatever your father said, he didn’t mean it.”
“Oh, he meant it.” Anna drew alongside her sister. Her expression was grave and her eyes were huge in her small face. “Pa said the word before. And he got real mad when Unca Corny told him not to because it’s a bad word.”
Molly gave another inward sigh. Ned wasn’t a terrible man. He was simply drowning in grief and clearly oblivious to the harm his behavior generated in this house.
“Miss Molly?” Sarah moved slightly in front of her sister. “When is Pa coming home?”
“Oh, sweetie.” Eyes stinging, throat tight, Molly dropped to her knees and pulled both girls close. “I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“You think he’ll be gone long?”
“Possibly.” By their hurt expressions, it was obvious neither child understood their father’s sudden absence. And Molly wasn’t doing a very good job covering for him. She wasn’t even sure she should try.
A huge crack split across her heart and she thought it might break in two. The twins were such sweet children. She loved them with the heart of a mother. How could Ned have left them without even saying goodbye?
In his note, he’d claimed that the girls reminded him too much of Penelope. There had been more in his note, hints at other reasons, but the part about his daughters resembling his wife had stuck out for Molly. It was true that the twins favored their mother, but they had a lot of Ned in them, as well.
“Your father might have left home for a while.” She chose her words carefully, silently praying to the Lord for guidance. “But I know he loves you very much.”
Sarah’s expression turned serious. “We love him, too.”
Anna nodded feverishly.
Sighing, Molly stood, reached for their hands. “Let’s get you some breakfast and then we’ll—”
The door swung open and in stormed an angry range cook, sputtering and mumbling incoherent words under his breath.
“Where’s the note?” Cookie demanded. “I want to see it.”
Releasing the girls’ hands, Molly moved quickly toward the grizzled old man glaring at her from the doorway. With a full head of white hair that stuck out from every angle, and a girth as wide as he was tall, Lawrence Robbins—“Cookie” to everyone who knew him—looked as furious as he sounded.
But he was more bark than bite, and Molly wasn’t intimidated in the least. She was, however, determined to keep him from saying something inappropriate in front of the twins.
“Good morning to you, too, Cookie. The girls and I were just about to sit down to breakfast.” She looked pointedly at the children in an attempt to remind him to monitor his speech.
Moving deeper into the house, he parked two beefy paws on his sizable hips. “Ned’s really done it this time. That good-for-nothing, worthless excuse of a—”
“The children,” Molly growled, placing a hand on his shoulder, “are standing right here.”
As if her words finally registered, Cookie’s cheeks turned a bright red. “Oh, right. I, uh…” He started backing toward the door as fast as his pudgy feet could carry him. “I’ll come back another time.”
“I’d rather you stay a moment.” She could use an ally. For all his blustering and uncensored opinion giving, Cookie was trustworthy, loyal, and loved the twins with the devotion of a kindly grandfather. “The note is on the table beside the sofa.”
He picked up the piece of paper and scanned the words in silence. When he looked up again, his expression was even more furious than before. But then he glanced over at the girls and his stern features melted into a look of compassion. “Poor little things.”
Molly’s sentiments exactly.
“I’ll stick close to the house all day. You need anything, anything at all, you just ring the bell and I’ll come running.”
“Thank you, Cookie.”
Eyes luminous with sympathy, he ruffled Sarah’s hair, then Anna’s, then headed for the door. By the time it shut behind him, Molly had the girls seated at the table and the eggs frying in the skillet.
She might not be able to bring either of their parents back, but she could feed Sarah and Anna a satisfying breakfast. For as long as she had the honor, she would care for the twins to the best of her ability and love them with her whole heart.
The rest she would leave up to the Lord.
* * *
CJ returned to the ranch later that afternoon bone-tired from a full day on the range. The cattle, more than five hundred of them, had been successfully moved to the north pasture, where they would fill their bellies with fresh grass. Getting them to their new grazing area had been hot, dirty work.
Ordinarily, he would be pleased with all he and his men had managed to get done in a single day. But Ned’s absence had been felt. CJ was short on manpower, and he could have used his brother’s help moving the herd.
Mouth set in a grim line, CJ pulled the brim of his hat low over his eyes. His three ranch hands dismounted ahead of him and guided their horses into the barn. He followed them at a slower pace, his gaze roaming over his domain.
Most days, he was proud of all he’d accomplished. With the guidance of his neighbor, Edmund McKay, CJ had learned solid ranching skills and had been able to turn his struggling spread into a modest success.
Now, he considered the cost of that single-minded focus. Perhaps if he’d tried harder to understand the extent of Ned’s grief, CJ could have saved his brother.
Too late, a small voice whispered inside his head.
Frowning, CJ led Scout into the barn, removed the horse’s tack, then picked up a brush off the shelf where hoof picks, files and clippers were neatly organized. He began making slow sweeps across the horse’s back.
What could he have done differently with Ned?
CJ had known his brother was tipping back the bottle. Every time he tried to talk to him, Ned would promise there wasn’t anything to worry about. He always stopped at one drink. The fact that Ned’s drinking never interfered with his duties on the ranch had been enough for CJ to believe the claim. Until recently.
Ned’s behavior had become more sporadic in the past two weeks. CJ had been worried enough to confront him. But his brother had refused to admit there was a problem.
Like father like son.
Letting out a hiss of frustration, CJ moved to the other side of the horse and resumed grooming the animal. He’d been hoping, even praying, that something would happen to make Ned realize his drinking was getting out of hand.
Ned must have finally admitted the truth to himself. His solution was to abandon his family. Of all the routes his brother could have taken, CJ had not expected that one.
Was it his fault Ned left? Had he run off his own brother?
Whatever the reason, he’d failed Ned. That was irrefutable. Despite evidence to the contrary, CJ worried that the same weak character in his father—and now his brother—lurked inside him, as well. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t tried very hard to find a wife.
CJ wasn’t convinced he’d make a good husband. He’d recently turned to Edmund McKay with his fears. His friend had asked him a simple question: “You ever tempted to drown your sorrows in a bottle?”
His response had been immediate. He’d never once felt the urge. Still, he was a Thorn. All Thorn men eventually broke. And CJ had never really been tested. When that day came, would he discover the same lack of character?
Anna and Sarah deserved a father who would protect them and keep them safe. What did CJ know about raising little girls?
With more force than necessary, he tossed the brush back on the shelf, then concentrated on picking pebbles and other debris from Scout’s hooves. After he led the horse into his stall and gave him fresh hay, he felt calmer.
But then Cookie met him at the barn door and wasted no time with pleasantries. “I read the note Ned left.”
CJ pulled in a tight breath, pounded a fist against his thigh. “I think he really means to stay gone.”
“This ain’t your fault, CJ.” Cookie placed a hand on his shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “You did all you could.”
“Did I?”
“Your brother made his choice. If he doesn’t want to be here, then I say it’s a good thing he left.”
CJ couldn’t bring himself to agree. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—give up on his brother. Like the prodigal son, Ned could still mend his ways and come home a changed man. For the twins’ sake, CJ prayed that was exactly what occurred. Soon.
Anna and Sarah had already suffered enough. CJ would do everything in his power to provide a good life for the twins. He would give them a safe, happy home. No sacrifice would be too great. He might have failed Ned. He would not fail the girls.
He would rise above the Thorn legacy.
At the bunkhouse, he and Cookie parted ways. CJ washed off the trail dust before entering the main house. Little-girl squeals of delight met his arrival.
“Pa! Pa, you’re home.”
The children rushed to greet their father. When they realized it was CJ standing on the threshold instead of Ned, their footsteps ground to a halt.
Sarah’s face scrunched into a frown. “You’re not Pa.”
The disappointment in her voice was mirrored in her sister’s downcast expression. CJ’s heart took a quick, extra thump. He’d never felt more inadequate in his life. “Your pa won’t be home tonight.”
“Will he be back tomorrow?”
Furious at his brother, CJ forced out a calming breath, placed his hands on his knees, leaned over and gave the girls the truth. “I don’t know.”
Identical lower lips trembled.
He swallowed back another wave of anger at Ned. “I was hoping I could eat supper with you two girls.”
Sarah’s face tightened. Anna angled her head. Then both children gave him a small, tentative smile.
“Would you like me to eat with you?”
They nodded slowly, their little minds clearly working furiously behind their clear, rounded eyes.
They looked so forlorn, so disappointed, CJ’s heart twisted in his chest.
“Are you going to stay with us in the house tonight?” Anna asked.
“That’s the plan.”
Twisting the fabric of her skirt between her fingers, the child drew in a shaky breath. “Okay.”
Without pause, with one single motion, he lowered himself to his knees and opened his arms. “How about a hug for your Unca Corny?”
Anna launched herself at him. He caught her against his chest, hugged her close. She smelled of flowers and everything good in this world, and he thought his heart might burst with love.
Shifting her slightly to his left, he reached for Sarah, who’d been studying him very closely. She hugged him just as fiercely as her sister. Emotion swept through him, convicting him. He would do right by these children. Whatever it takes.
He set them away from them and searched their precious faces for any sign of distress. It was there, of course, shimmering in their wide, sad eyes, but with the resilience of youth, they chattered over one another in an attempt to tell him about their day.
How could Ned have walked away from these sweet girls? It boggled the mind.
“…and then Miss Molly showed us how to make cornhusk dolls.”
“Did she?” He looked up and found Molly watching him with soft, watery eyes. Her expression was almost wistful.
He didn’t understand that look. Yet he knew it had something to do with him. His heart pounded against his ribs. His breath clogged in his throat. His mind reeled.
Her, a whisper in his mind seemed to say. She’s the one for you.
CJ shoved aside the thought with a hard shake of his head. There’d been a time when he thought Molly had a special affection for him. But her interest had waned right before she’d gone off and married a preacher.
“All right, girls, give your uncle a chance to catch his breath.” Molly clapped her hands together. “Supper’s ready.”
She herded the twins toward the table, then paused when CJ didn’t follow. “You are joining us, aren’t you?”
“A home-cooked meal with three beautiful females? Try to keep me away.”
They shared a laugh. It felt good to laugh with Molly.
Despite Ned’s noticeable absence, supper went smoothly. CJ credited the easy atmosphere to Molly’s calming presence.
When the dishes were clean and order was restored to the kitchen, she said her goodbyes to the girls. “I’ll be back in the morning. We’ll spend the day making clothes for your new dolls.”
“Will you read to us before you go?”
She glanced out the window, seemed to consider the question thoughtfully. “For five minutes, but no more.”
That was CJ’s cue. “I’ll saddle your horse and bring her around to the front of the house.”
“Thank you.” She gave him one of her sweetest smiles.
He found himself smiling back.
He was still smiling as he made the trek to the barn. He located his foreman and asked him to make sure Molly got home safely.
“You got it, Boss.”
CJ would have preferred to escort her himself, but he couldn’t leave the twins alone and felt confident sending Duke in his place. By the time he stepped back inside the house, Molly was sitting on the sofa between the girls, reading from a small, worn Bible.
The three made a cozy scene, the very essence of family. A yearning so deep shot through CJ that for a moment he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.
He pulled the door shut behind him, but stayed where he was, watching, hoping, praying for something so far out of reach he couldn’t make the image form in his head.
“Sadie is saddled and waiting for you outside.”
Molly shut the Bible and kissed each girl on the head. The twins immediately protested her departure. After another round of hugs, and more promises to return before first light, Molly joined him at the door.
They walked outside in silence.
As he helped her into the saddle, CJ felt it again, that powerful wish for something…more. It was the same sensation from this morning. Once again, he pushed it away. Ignored it. Denied it. The process proved far less successful this evening.
Clearing his throat, he rolled his shoulders, shifted his stance. He couldn’t seem to find his balance. His mind filled with all the tasks that lay ahead. He would have to move a few things into the main house tonight. Then he’d have to get the girls settled in bed. And—
“Relax, CJ.” Molly leaned over and touched his arm. Everything in him calmed. “You aren’t in this alone. I’ll continue watching the girls for as long as you need me.”
She’d said nearly the same words this morning. He had no reason to doubt her sincerity, but such a promise wasn’t realistic.
Ever since Penelope died, CJ had focused on ranching, while letting Ned find his own way through his grief. In the span of a single day, CJ’s entire life had changed. His priorities had shifted dramatically. He must move into the future with only frank honesty between him and Molly. “One day, whether Ned returns or not, you will leave us.”
She was shaking her head before he finished speaking.
He pressed on. “One day,” he said with emphasis, to make his point clear, “you’ll marry again, and that’ll be—”
“I’ll never marry again.”
CJ pulled back in surprise. He couldn’t remember a time when Molly had looked this fierce, this determined or this sad.
It was the sadness that led him to say, “You’re still in love with your husband.”
Surely that explained her refusal to wed another man. There was tremendous honor in that kind of devotion, CJ decided, even as he felt something unpleasant twist in his gut.
“A part of me will always love George.” Sorrow came and went in her eyes. “But that’s not the reason I won’t ever—”
She cut off her own words, glanced frantically around, then drew in a sharp breath and started again. “It’s getting late. I better head home.”
Her voice was even as she spoke, but the pain in her eyes made CJ regret bringing up her husband. At a loss for words, he reached for the horse’s reins and handed them to her. “Good night, Molly.”
“Good night, CJ.”
Neither made a move to leave. They didn’t smile, didn’t speak. They simply stared into each other’s eyes. And then they stared some more. One moment stretched into two.
At last, Molly lowered her eyelashes and the awkward interaction was over. She gave the mare a gentle kick in the ribs and set out toward her family’s ranch.
Once Duke moved in behind her, CJ closed his eyes and considered all that had happened in the span of a day. He predicted a long, sleepless night ahead, the reason as much because of the woman riding toward the painted horizon as his brother’s shocking departure.
CHAPTER THREE
The next two days passed by in a blur for Molly. Ned had not returned. In an attempt to distract the twins from missing their father, she’d kept them busy and on a relatively tight schedule. Her efforts proved successful, mostly. Apart from a few tears and a lot of questions, Anna and Sarah seemed to be taking their new situation in stride.
That said a lot about CJ and his determination to step into Ned’s shoes.
Of course, it was early days yet. It was clear CJ wasn’t settling into his new role as a father smoothly. Every morning, when Molly arrived at the Triple-T ranch, he would be waiting for her at the door, looking both harried and vastly relieved to see her.
His discomfort was to be expected. He was completely out of his element with the girls. However, like any Texas cowboy worthy of the name, he was tackling the challenge head-on. Oh, he was still tentative around the twins and they weren’t exactly comfortable around him, either. Which begged the question, why had he given Molly the day off?
With an impatient shove, she secured the final pin in her hair and stepped away from the mirror. Dressed and ready for Sunday service, she moved to the window and stared out across the front yard of her family’s ranch. The sun had already risen, splashing golden fingers of light across the pink-tinted sky.
She should be atop Sadie’s back by now, heading over to the Triple-T to help CJ with the girls. He’d insisted she spend the Sabbath with her own family. No amount of arguing had swayed him. He was one stubborn, thoughtful, kind man.
Sighing, she placed her palm against the warm glass. She wished CJ would talk to her about Ned. Molly knew he suffered. She often caught the secret pain in his eyes, when he didn’t know she was looking. He clearly blamed himself.
Even without saying the words aloud, they both knew Ned’s leaving could very well be permanent. Awarding CJ custody of the twins made his intentions clear. Molly had no idea if a hand-scribbled note was the same as a legal document. But Ned’s actions had a feeling of finality to them.
It had been only three days, she told herself. There was still reason to hope. No matter how sad he appeared on the outside, Ned always pulled himself together enough to attend Sunday worship with his daughters. Maybe he would return today.
Ned had his faults, but even at the worst of times he’d been a committed churchgoer. Molly hated thinking any man, especially a believing Christian, could abandon his own children, but if Ned stayed gone…
Lord, please bring him home this morning.
Molly pushed away from the window and nudged her sister’s shoulder.
A muffled groan was Daisy’s only response.
Shaking her head, Molly poked the girl’s shoulder with a bit more force.
She received yet another feminine groan, followed by a muffled, “Go away.”
“Mama won’t hold breakfast for you,” she warned.
More mumbling.
“Fine. You’re on your own.” Mildly frustrated, yet still loving her sister dearly, Molly left the room with a little more noise than necessary.
The rest of her family was already seated around the breakfast table. Molly’s three younger brothers alternated between passing platters of food and shoveling impressively large bites into their mouths. Boys.
It amazed her how much her brothers had grown in the years she’d been married to George. All three were good-looking and had the Carson blond hair. The younger two, Donny and Roy, had their father’s hazel eyes, while Thomas’s were deep brown.
Smiling fondly at each of them, Molly took her seat beside Roy. At twelve, he was inquisitive and seemed to be always taking things apart. Donny was the talker. Thomas was the calmest and most logical of the three. At fourteen, he was also the most mature.
As they did nearly every Sunday morning, Roy and Donny debated which one of them would ride old Walker into town and which would have to sit in the bed of the wagon.
“It’s my turn.” Donny’s voice held more whine than reason.
Roy begged to differ, loudly, and with equal amounts of whining. The heated discussion continued another fifteen seconds before their father put an end to it.
“Thomas is the oldest,” he said. “He’ll ride Walker. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”
He pointed to their plates. Once they obeyed his command, he turned toward Molly. “I trust you slept well.”
“I did, thank you.” Actually, she’d tossed and turned most of the night. But there was no reason to upset her father.
Or her mother, who was eyeing her with her usual worried scowl. Keeping her own expression bland, Molly took the platter of cured ham from Roy and concentrated on eating her breakfast.
Conversation turned to the ice-cream social after service. Apparently, Mercy Green, owner of Mercy’s Café, was supplying the ingredients.
Laughter soon replaced dissent among her brothers. It was a lovely, boisterous sound that represented the very heart of family. Head down, Molly took a few calming breaths.
She loved her parents and siblings, and was happy to be home, but she desperately wanted her own family. Despite what she’d said to CJ, she wanted to be a wife again and run her own household.
George had been a good husband, handsome, kind and dedicated to the Lord. During the first year of their marriage, his devotion to Molly had been above reproach. But the longer she’d gone without conceiving, the more distant he’d become.
The pressure to bear a child had taken over every part of their life together. Instead of bonding them closer, their mutual frustration had put a wedge between them. With every month that passed, and no baby on the way, Molly’s life had grown a little less happy, a little less joyful.
Her eyes stung with remembered pain, from the loss of hope and the certainty that she was a failure as a wife. And as a woman.
“Molly?” Her mother’s hand covered hers. “Are you unwell?”
“No.” She put on a brave face and slowly lifted her head. “I was just thinking about…George.”
Helen Carson’s eyes softened. Molly was saved from further questioning when Daisy rushed into the room, her words tumbling out faster than her footsteps.
“I’m not late.” She hopped to the empty chair at the table with one shoe on her foot, the other dangling in her hand. “I’m merely running a bit behind.”
“A bit behind?” Releasing her grip on Molly, Helen Carson sat back in her chair and turned her full attention to her other daughter. “Is that what we’re now calling your proclivity to oversleep?”
Daisy opened her mouth, presumably to defend herself, but wisely shut it again.
Even with Daisy’s tardiness, the Carson brood set out for town with plenty of time to complete the two-mile journey before service started. Thomas did indeed receive the honor of riding Walker. The younger boys piled into the back of the wagon. Helen and John Carson took the front seat. Molly and Daisy settled on the smaller bench behind them.
Before they were even off Carson land, her parents leaned in close, their heads bent together in quiet conversation. Watching them brought Molly another wave of unexpected yearning. Even after twenty-five years of marriage, and the challenges of building one of the largest working ranches in central Texas, they were still very much in love.
It was quite lovely to witness. And utterly depressing.
Molly despaired of ever finding that kind of happiness. She’d had her chance at marriage and had failed miserably. What man would want her now? She was a barren, twenty-three-year-old widow living on her family’s ranch.
From a distance, the town of Little Horn beckoned. Welcoming the distraction, Molly studied the small settlement, which had been incorporated two years ago.
As her father took the most direct route through town, Molly watched the various buildings pass by. There was the general store on her left, the grocer on her right. The shoemaker and both coopers were farther up ahead. One street over was a well-established livery and blacksmith, and a cotton gin-gristmill lay just beyond the outskirts of town.
At the end of the wide main street, Molly noticed that Mercy’s Café, situated between the train depot and bank, had a brand-new sign. The pretty blue lettering really stood out against the stark white background.
The one building Little Horn lacked was a church. For now, the congregation met beneath a large, serviceable tent that had been erected for a revival last year and never taken down.
When her father pulled in beside a row of carriages, Molly gathered herself in preparation for exiting the wagon. Her brothers were much quicker. Roy and Donny scrambled out of the flatbed before the brake had even been set.
Jacob and Sam Barlow, boys from a neighboring ranch, called out to them. Her brothers quickly changed direction and met up with their friends. Thomas hitched his horse to the back of the wagon, then took off to find his own friends.
Molly, Daisy and their parents disembarked from the wagon at a much more sedate pace.
“John, dear.” Molly’s mother caught her husband’s arm. “Would you mind keeping an eye on our younger sons? Whenever they get together with the Barlow boys, well, mischief soon follows.”
“Heading over there now.”
“Much appreciated. Oh, look, it’s Beatrice Rampart.” Helen lifted her hand in greeting. “I haven’t spoken with her since last week. I’ll just go over and say hello.”
“I guess you’re stuck with me.” Daisy linked arms with Molly. “And I’m stuck with you.”
She laughed at the teasing tone. “So it would seem.”
Arm in arm, they stayed close to the wagon and watched the milling crowd. Daisy seemed unusually focused. Her gaze kept sweeping from one side of the tent to the other. Molly wondered what—or perhaps, who—her sister was searching for so diligently.
She had her answer when sixteen-year-old Calvin Barlow caught sight of them and lifted his hand in greeting, much as their mother had done moments before. Daisy returned the gesture, then let out a soft, shuddering sigh when he started in their direction.
“Promise you won’t leave me alone with him,” Daisy whispered.
“You have my word.” Molly tried not to smile as she spoke. But, really, who was this young woman standing beside her?
She hardly recognized her sister. Daisy was outspoken and full of more than her share of opinions. She was certainly never shy. But now, with Calvin Barlow bearing down on them, Daisy’s cheeks had turned a becoming shade of pink. Her eyes sparkled with an odd mix of trepidation and excitement.
Molly remembered that look. She’d seen it in her own mirror five years ago, when she’d first discovered she had tender feelings for CJ Thorn.
He’d been completely oblivious of her, which had hurt at the time. Looking back, she realized he’d been far too consumed with running his ranch to notice her.
Now, it was too late for her to catch his eye. Even if she did, she had so little to offer him.
Calvin drew to a stop several feet away. He greeted Molly first, then put all his focus on Daisy. “Good morning, Miss Carson.”
“Miss Carson? Miss Carson?”
Eyes wide, Calvin blinked at her for several long seconds. “That is your name.”
“Of course it’s my name.” Sputtering in outrage, Daisy pulled her arm free of Molly’s and jammed her hands on her hips. “What’s with the sudden formality?”
His mouth worked but no words came out.
“Well?” Daisy demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself, Calvin Barlow?”
He frowned, clearly taken aback by her heated question. “I’m trying to show you respect, Daisy.”
“No, what you’ve done is insult me.”
“How do you figure that?”
Molly was wondering the same thing herself.
“We’ve known each other all our lives.” Daisy said this as if it explained everything. “I should think it obvious.”
“Well, it’s not.” Calvin blew out a frustrated hiss, moving a step closer to Daisy. “Why are you being so difficult?”
“Difficult? Me? What about you?” She leaned forward, practically touching noses with him. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were up to something devious.”
Chest puffed out, eyes narrowed, Calvin launched into a lengthy defense of his actions, whereby Daisy proceeded to dismantle each and every one of them. The more they argued the happier they seemed.
Molly hid a smile behind her hand. The conversation reminded her of several she’d witnessed early in Ned and Penelope’s courtship.
They’d bickered…er, bantered much like this. It hadn’t been long before they’d fallen deeply in love. Ned had been an attentive, patient, caring husband. Grief had turned him into a different man. But that didn’t have to be how their love story ended. He could still return and become a father to his children, the way Penelope would have wanted.
With hope building in her heart, Molly searched the area for Ned’s rangy build and shaggy brown hair. She found no sign of him. But there, beneath a tall cottonwood tree, stood the rest of the Thorn family.
CJ was larger than life, handsome and clean-shaven and so very capable. He didn’t wear a hat this morning, but still looked like the quintessential rancher, strong and leanly built, yet with shoulders broad enough to carry the burdens of his loved ones.
The girls clung to his hands with utter confidence that he would keep them safe. On closer inspection, Molly realized CJ wasn’t as in control as he seemed. He had that harried look again. His features were weary and a little rough around the edges. He’d had a trying morning.
He needs me.
The thought drew her several steps toward him.
“I’ll be over there,” she said to her sister, “with the Thorn family.” She nodded toward the rancher and two little girls standing beneath the large tree.
Still in a heated discussion with Calvin, Daisy waved her away with a flick of her wrist. As Molly moved in CJ’s direction, she came to the conclusion she should have never agreed to take the morning off.
He was clearly in over his head with the twins. She couldn’t begin to imagine how alone he must feel with Ned gone.
Or perhaps she could.
Hadn’t she, even surrounded by her family, felt alone since returning home?
Well, she wasn’t alone. And neither was CJ.
