Beyond This Moment (19 page)

"She's right, Tolliver. I gave her the list myself." James smiled in Tolliver's direction, enjoying seeing him put in his place. "She's got her work cut out for her:"

"I'm sorry to hear that, Dr. Whitcomb:" Tolliver's attention flashed briefly to James. `And speaking of work, I wish now that I'd pursued a chair on the town council. Perhaps then I could have thrown my hat into the ring to be your new boss, ma'am. Like the good sheriff here did. I would've enjoyed that distinction:'

James felt his face heat, while Molly's expression clouded.

She frowned. "I ... don't understand:'

Tolliver's smugness deepened. "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am, if I've spoken out of turn. Mayor Davenport informed me that he'd assigned the sheriff to act as your ... supervisor, of sorts. You'll be reporting to him in regard to your duties as the schoolteacher of Timber Ridge:"

Confusion and-if James wasn't mistaken-suspicion, shadowed her eyes.

"Mrs. Whitcomb-" James turned to her. "Mr. Tolliver is making this out to be more than it is. I'm not your new boss or your supervisor, ma'am. Far from it. Mayor Davenport merely suggested that you and I work together to make sure the opening of the new school runs smoothly, and that the lines of communication stay open between you and the town council. That's all:"

Molly clutched her Bible closer to her chest. "And just when, Sheriff McPherson"-her voice was soft; her eyes were not-"did he assign you this task?"

This woman was about as trusting as a wounded field mouse in a cage of buzzards. And James wondered, not for the first time, what kind of man her husband had been.

15

n the day Mayor Davenport came to the cabin, he requested that I be your go-between for the town council," James said quietly, watching suspicion deepen in her eyes.

Molly nodded, obvious conclusions forming. "The day you asked me to wait inside:"

"Dr. Whitcomb ..." Tolliver bowed at the waist, his grin declaring victory. "I'll take my leave of you, madam. For now. But rest assured I'll issue a future invitation at, what I trust will be, a more opportune time. And I'll take pleasure in showing you the newest and most modern resort in the West:"

"Thank you, Mr. Tolliver. I look forward to seeing your hotel:" Molly gave him a gracious-if not tolerant-smile.

Tolliver. James watched the man leave, noticing he didn't bother to speak to anyone on his way out. Not that most of these people were overly fond of the resort owner. Tolliver had arrived last fall promising to create jobs with the construction of his resort. But the hopes he'd raised among townsfolk were soon dashed when he offered lower-than-expected wages and hired immigrants to do the work instead.

As if having waited for Tolliver to leave, Rachel walked up behind Molly and gave her shoulders a squeeze. "I hope you're ready for some roasted chicken and potatoes, green beans with fatback, and apple crumb cake with fresh cream:'

Molly was slow to answer. "Actually, Rachel, I'm ... not feeling too well this morning. Perhaps I should stay closer to home today."

Rachel's expression fell, and James felt responsible. Rachel had been up before dawn working on dinner, wanting everything to be perfect for her new friend.

"I'm so sorry ..." Rachel, ever the nurturer, touched the side of Molly's cheek. "You do feel a little warm."

Molly offered a noncommittal shrug. "Yes, but I think some extra rest will take care of it:"

Rachel nodded and bowed her head.

Knowing he was to blame for Molly's change of heart, James grew determined to change it back. "Please reconsider, Mrs. Whitcomb. The boys stayed up late last night. They both made something special in your honor. And Rachel's apple crumb cake took the ribbon at this year's spring festival. If you don't get it now"-with work, he managed to get her attention-"you might have to wait `a whole 'nother year, as Kurt says."

Whether it was his persuasiveness or Rachel's obvious disappointment-he wagered it was the latter-he detected Molly wavering. And when Rachel hugged her again and Molly hugged her back, he knew their plans were on again.

Throughout the afternoon, James felt a deepening certainty that Molly's coming to Timber Ridge was by God's design. And was for their benefit as much as hers.

Rachel outdid herself at lunch, and as the boys presented their gifts to their new teacher-excitement flickering in their eyes as he hadn't seen in a long time-he found himself more and more curious about Molly Whitcomb.

"I hope you like it, teacher." Mitchell stood close by her side, rocking from heel to toe, as he did when he was excited. "I made it myself."

Molly removed the brown wrapping paper to reveal a box made from cut branches whittled free of bark and bound tight with string. She turned it in her hands. "Mitchell, this is-" She firmed her lips, her eyes bright with emotion. "This is beautiful, and so thoughtful of you:"

Mitchell beamed. "I made it for your desk at school:'

Molly's lips trembled. `And that's exactly where I'll put it. I'll use it every day and think of you:'

"Now it's my turn!" Kurt edged closer, grinning and holding out his wrapped package. "Be careful. They can break:"

Molly took the package from him, brushing his cheek with her forefinger, her mannerisms reflecting his excitement. She gingerly removed the paper-and gasped. She held the board out as though trying to put distance between it and her. "Oh, Kurt! This is-" She swallowed. "This is w-wonderful."

Kurt leaned closer, pointing to the largest and hairiest bug pinned to the board. "I found this one here in the barn. In one of the stalls. Feel his wings. They're real soft."

James had trouble containing his laughter, and saw Rachel having the same reaction. Apparently Molly Whitcomb did not like bugs, and that was putting it mildly. But recalling the hours Kurt had spent "catching" his present for her, he hoped she would appreciate the offering for what it was.

"Oh, I bet they are soft. But I-" Molly gave a visible shudder. "I'd hate to break them:" She looked closer. "Are they ... all dead?"

Kurt giggled. "These are. But I've got some live ones in my room if you want to-"

"No, no;" she said quickly, smiling. "These are ... amazing specimens." She shot a look in James's direction, seeming to draw a measure of calm. `And I appreciate all the time and effort you took in ... catching them for me:'

Kurt's little chest puffed out.

As the afternoon stretched on, James sensed Molly relaxing, and he got a glimpse of the woman she must have been before her husband died. She was vibrant, quick-witted, and possessed a natural curiosity of life that was engaging. And she was pretty as all get out. Even dressed head to toe in black.

He hadn't felt this depth of an attraction to a woman in-well, forever. And while he felt better knowing that his attraction to her wasn't based solely on the physical, knowing that also bothered him. If she'd been the slightest bit uppity or unkind, or even uninterested in the goings-on of others' lives, he could've more easily dismissed his feelings.

That evening he drove her home in the wagon and she sat quietly beside him, wearing his jacket. She'd said she was chilly, but the cool evening air felt good to him. This was his favorite time of day. When the sky had a golden purple wash to it and the mountains seemed even bigger, all dark and craggy, set up against a waning sun.

He'd kept his promise to himself about not mixing business with personal. They had some things to talk out between them, but he hated to ruin such a nice day. He tugged on the reins and brought the wagon to a stop in front of her cabin.

He set the brake and went around to her side to help her down. When his hands fit about her waist and he lowered her to the ground, James recalled what Brandon Tolliver had said about hidden motives. Molly stood looking up at him, and for all the world, he wanted to kiss her. Slowly, and thoroughly. Thoughts of what kissing her would be like, of what it would feel like to hold her, of the softness of her lips, were vivid inside him.

Desire bolted through him, unexpected and unfettered. And he quickly let her go and stepped back, putting distance between them.

Her brow furrowed. She stared, and James felt as though she'd caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. She'd been a married woman. She was familiar with the desires of a man and had no doubt just glimpsed that desire in his eyes. He felt as though he needed to apologize, yet that didn't seem quite right either.

What if he'd misread her and she hadn't noticed anything? He'd only be drawing attention to something that would bring further discomfort. To them both.

She touched his arm. "James.. "

Whether his reaction was only internal or if she'd noticed too, he couldn't tell. He only knew that it would be best for her not to touch him right now. Yet he did not want her to remove her hand.

Her smile was slow to bloom. "I appreciate your allowing this afternoon to be what it was ... a wonderful time with friends. Rachel is so lovely and kind." She moved her hand away. `And your nephews are endearing:'

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, and that you changed your mind about coming:" He found it easier to speak when he wasn't looking at her. He motioned to the cabin. "I'll wait here until you're safe inside:"

She didn't move. "I'm sorry for my reaction earlier today ... after church. It was childish and silly, and I apologize:"

The sincerity in her eyes made him swallow. He'd prayed often through the years that God would remove the desire for a woman's touch, since a wife didn't seem to be in his future. And He had-up until now, it seemed.

The life of any sheriff, much less a sheriff in a town like Timber Ridge, didn't leave room for a wife and a family. Having Rachel and the boys in his care was hard enough. Not that he'd shirked his duties in enforcing the law since coming to live with them, but there were times when he'd carried out his responsibilities as sheriff and had worried that the threats made against him would extend to them as well.

Coming after him was one thing. Coming after Rachel and the boysor his family, if he had one-was another.

"You were right, early on:" Molly gave a gentle shrug. "About my not expecting to find things in Timber Ridge to my liking. I wasn't at all excited about the prospects of living here. I imagined the town would be rougher, the aspects of my job less desirable, and the people far less kind:" Her expression grew earnest. "But I was wrong. I'm grateful for the opportunity the town council has given me, Sheriff," she said with a nod. "I want you to know that:'

There it was again. That vulnerability. That briefest glimpse past her confident facade, as though she considered herself unworthy of the teaching position. Her humility only made her more special in his eyes, and increased his determination to keep their relationship on a right footing.

`And you need to know again, Dr. Whitcomb, that we're very pleased you said yes. Now.. " He motioned toward the cabin, then remembered something and turned to reach into the back of the wagon. "Let's not forget these:"

He handed her Mitchell's gift and she gave it a closer look.

"Mitchell said he made this himself." Her tone held a twinge of doubt. "But I'm thinking he had help:"

"I showed him what to do, but he insisted on doing all the work himself. He started over three times. You'll find he's a stickler for doing things right, and for wanting to do it that way the very first time. He gets frustrated on occasion and needs to learn to be more patient with himself."

She nodded. "I can relate, and appreciate knowing that about him:' She was slower to accept Kurt's gift and used care to hold the board by the edges. "Thank you"-she frowned-"I think:"

James grinned. "Kurt likes bugs:"

"Yes, I gathered that:"

"And I take it that you don't."

"I'm not overly fond of them, no. But at least it's not a snake:" She eyed the board, which served as the final resting place for ten near-perfect beetles and other insects.

"Kurt's always been interested in anything that creeps or crawls. When he was two, he came to church with a lizard in his pocket:" James laughed remembering Thomas's and Rachel's response. "He took it out during Communion and about scared Lyda Mullins half to death:"

Molly shuddered, barely finding a smile.

"Would you like me to carry this to the door for you?"

She nodded. "Would you, please? I'm not altogether sure that one on the far corner is dead yet:"

He took the board and walked her up to the front porch, feeling at ease again with the woman beside him. His desire to kiss her hadn't lessened, but, with effort, he held it in check. Other than Rachel, he'd never been close to a woman before. This could be good. This being friends with Molly Whitcomb.

He kept telling himself that on the way home, and then again as he lay in bed later that night. The same bed she'd slept in, which-when thinking of that, and imagining the softness of her mouth-only pushed sleep further from his mind.