Beyond This Moment (48 page)

She greeted them at the back of the room, then introduced them to the students. "These four gentlemen will be with us through Wednesday afternoon. They're here to observe how we learn, and they might even ask you some questions. All you need to do is answer their questions and then do exactly what you've been doing before they arrived-which is your very best:" She smiled, and held Kurt Boyd's gaze a few seconds longer than that of the other children, praying he didn't have any snakes or mice in his pockets. Or worse.

Over the course of the next three days, the guests first observed from the back, then closer to the groups of children, then spoke with the students one on one. By Wednesday afternoon, they were evaluating the children's skill levels and making lengthy notations. Molly wasn't sure if she heard her future in the scribbling of their quills, or the death knell of her teaching career.

But whichever it turned out to be, she trusted that God had brought her this far and that He surely wouldn't leave her now.

On Friday afternoon when the last students left bundled against the cold and wind, she set the room aright so that it would be ready on Monday morning. She still hadn't heard from the town council as to whether or not she would be teaching the following week. But she assumed they would let her know when she was through. Until that time, or until her baby was born, she would show up each morning prepared.

She slipped her coat on and buttoned the buttons over her expanding middle. No movement from the baby yet, but she was definitely growing-according to Dr. Brookston's scales yesterday-so that had to be a good thing. And Dr. Brookston had assured her there was no cause to worry. So she determined not to, again.

Dark gray clouds hung close over the mountain peaks, and a smell similar to that of rain but with a sharper edge to it scented the afternoon air. More snow was coming. If not tonight, then by tomorrow morning for sure. She'd "gotten good at readin' the signs;' as Charlie had told her the other day. And a trip into town would be easier this afternoon than tomorrow, so she bent into the wind and set out.

Typical of an afternoon before a storm, patrons crowded Hank Bolden's place, and business at the general store was bustling. Ignoring Hank Bolden's glare, Molly was thankful when he didn't slam her bread and sweet rolls unwrapped on the counter the way he had Lori Beth's. The possibility of that day loomed in her future, but she planned on leaving Timber Ridge before it came to pass.

At the Mullinses' store, she gathered what she needed and deposited the items on the counter, hoping Charlie Daggett was around to deliver them for her, as usual. Preferably this afternoon, before the storm hit.

Ben Mullins tallied her order, the satisfied look on his face becoming more so by the minute. He slid the bill toward her on the counter.

Her reticule open, Molly read the receipt and looked up. "But I don't understand. Why did you-"

"The other day, after you'd been in, Lyda told me where you asked for the food to be delivered, Dr. Whitcomb. It wasn't any of my business, ma'am, so I'd never asked you what you were doing with it all:" He looked down at the counter. "But this is a good thing you're undertaking, and I'd like to help, if you don't mind, by discounting the price:"

Molly's admiration for this quiet, somewhat timid, giant of a man grew tenfold. "I'd be honored to have your help, Mr. Mullins. As will Angelo Giordano's family, and the others. But, please, I'd like to spend the amount I'd budgeted. Let's just add more food to the pile:" She had a second thought. "Or perhaps some blankets, if you have them:"

He laughed. "We'll add both. I've got some miner's blankets in the back. They're none too soft, but they're warm and they keep away the moisture" He leaned close. "For what it's worth, ma'am ... Being on the town council, I know your salary, and I don't think we're paying you enough as it is. Which makes this all the more kindhearted of you:"

"Not at all, Mr. Mullins. I've been very blessed by my time here in Timber Ridge, and I appreciate the opportunity to give a portion of that back"

A shadow crept over his face. "You make it sound like your time here might be drawing to a close:"

Wishing she hadn't spoken so freely, she also knew it was true. People had to be wondering if she would leave. "None of us knows what the future holds, do we, Mr. Mullins?"

He held her gaze, his features more reflective now than amused. "No, ma'am, we don't. So we best make the most of every day we're given. I'll see that Charlie gets this delivered to Little Italy this afternoon:"

Thanking him, Molly turned.

"One more thing, Dr. Whitcomb:" Ben gestured for her to wait and returned a minute later with an envelope in his hand. "For you;' he said, his tone more businesslike than usual.

Molly eyed the envelope with her name penned neatly on the front, then fingered the bulge at the bottom. She looked at Ben, but he merely shrugged as if he knew nothing. But his expression hinted at just the opposite.

She moved off to the side, slid open the edge of the envelope, and pulled out a single sheet of stationery. Seeing the sender's name, her stomach did funny little somersaults.

Dear Molly,

We haven't seen each other much in recent days, but you've never been far from my thoughts. If you're still open to receiving my company, I'd like to come to your cabin on Saturday evening and fix us dinner. I don't want you to do a thing. I hope you'll be there.

With affection most friendly,

James

P.S. Here's a little something until then.

Molly peeked inside the envelope, and giggled. And smiled as she walked from the store, sucking on a sugar stick.

"Good day, Mrs. Doctor Molly Whitcomb!"

Without looking behind her on the boardwalk, she knew who it was. She slipped the candy from her mouth as she turned. "Good day, Mr. Tolliver" She hadn't seen him in a while, nor had she heard from him, which suited her fine. She'd been curious to see his resort, but since Angelo had told her he wasn't working there anymore, that desire had slipped in importance.

Tolliver's telling glance at her midsection said he'd heard her latest news. An almost comical grin edged up the corners of his mouth. "I hear you're in rather ... full health these days, madam:'

She gave him a sideways look. "I'm feeling quite well. Thank you for your genuine feeling of concern:"

"Oh, my feelings are genuine" He quirked a brow. "They simply lean more toward surprise in this instance. You have considerably more mystery to you than I first judged, which I find to be a most compelling character trait:"

That observation sat ill within her. "I'll choose not to take that as a compliment:"

He frowned. "Well, that's indeed a pity. Because it was meant as one, I assure you:" A sardonic grin lit his face.

Eager to be rid of his company, Molly thought of a way to hurry that along. Perhaps it would even put this man in his place. "I hope you're still on schedule to make your grand opening in January, Mr. Tolliver. I know how hard you've worked and how eager you are to show off your resort'

All mirth fled his expression, as expected. "With the recent snows, that's not looking favorable ... as you're no doubt aware, Dr. Whitcomb:"

Already having heard as much, Molly mimicked his frown from before. "Well, that's indeed a pity, Mr. Tolliver:" With a smile, she turned and continued down the boardwalk, sugar stick in her mouth.

James slammed the cell door and locked it, ignoring the string of expletive-loaded threats the two miners inside hurled at him. One of the men grabbed at him through the bars, and James caught his forearm and wrenched it back. "Try that again and I'll break it next time:"

The miner glared but held his tongue.

James walked back into the office, dabbing at the corner of his mouth and still tasting blood. The miner who'd just tried getting at him again had put up a good fight. The fellow was younger and outweighed him and had gotten in a solid blow to his mouth before James had subdued him. The guy was accustomed to fighting; that was clear. It had been quite a while since James had been in a scuffle like that. It reminded him of days long gone, when he was faster-and younger.

Deputy Willis slumped on a bench, his head down.

James eased himself into his desk chair, his shoulder sore, but not as sore as it would be tomorrow. "You okay, Willis?"

The deputy didn't look up. "They said they'd come in peaceable:"

"They lied:" James sighed. "Folks have a tendency to do that when they're in a tight spot:"

Slowly Willis raised his head, and James saw the shiner already forming around his right eye.

"Oh.. " James tried not to smile-too much. "Why don't you go on home and let Mary see to that? Stanton's taking the night shift. I won't be here much longer:"

Willis stood, looking steady enough on his feet but lacking his normal swagger. "The mayor will be happy, at least:"

James pulled a kerchief from his pocket and held it to his mouth. Stubborn cut wouldn't stop bleeding. Davenport wanted the rustlers caught, and they'd caught them. Two of them, at least. "He'll be happy for a while, Willis. A short while. Then something else will come up, and your tail-and mine-will be on the line again. That's all part of it. When things are going well in a town, when things are quiet, the sheriff's office is doing a fine job. But when things go bad, whether we could have prevented what happened or not, the sheriff's office gets blamed. Better get used to it:"

"So tell me again, Sheriff... Why is it you do this job?"

James rolled his neck from side to side. "Because I care about the people of this town, and about right winning over wrong. I do it because I think I can make a difference for the better. Same as you can. And same as you will, if you're elected sheriff next spring:"

Willis stared at him, then gave a gentle shake of his head. "I'm not sure I want it"

"Some days.. " James smiled. "I'm not sure I do either. Now go on and see to your wife. How much longer does she have?"

Willis got that look he always did when talking about his soon-tobe-born son or daughter. `About a month, give or take, the doc says:'

"Well, you tell Mary for me that Rachel said she can hardly wait to hold and love on that baby."

Willis briefly closed his eyes. "Her and me both, Sheriff. Her and me both:"

A while later, relieved by Deputy Stanton, James saddled Winsome and made a scheduled stop by the store to pick up items he'd ordered. Ben had them at the ready, along with an encouraging grin that James all but ignored. Mullins hadn't said a thing when he'd left his note for Molly a couple of days ago. But he didn't have to.

Ben could be merciless in his kidding when he wanted to be. And he didn't even have to say anything half the time. He managed it with just a look, which James enjoyed but didn't let on that he did. It was all part of the back and forth between them.

He rode on to Molly's, hoping she'd be there.

If she wasn't, and he returned home early, Rachel might not let him in the house. When he'd told his sister he might not be back until later, then shared the reason, she'd beamed. He'd missed being with Molly, more than he probably should have, given the circumstances. But the extra time he'd spent with Kurt in recent days seemed to be helping-at least Rachel thought it was. He loved that little guy, ornery as he could be at times.

And he had some good news to give Molly from the town council too. At least he hoped she'd see it as good news. He did, when compared to what Davenport had wanted to do. The only thing keeping Davenport from dismissing her immediately was the benefit he hoped to receive from the attention of educators in Denver.

The scantly warm sun flirted with the western peaks, and a fresh fall of snow blanketed the mountains, turning the world to white. For as long as he lived, he didn't think he'd ever get enough of this country. It was inside him now, and he doubted he'd ever leave. November was still a good week and a half away, but winter had made its arrival, bold and unyielding, which boded for hard months ahead.

He had taken a supply of firewood and food staples out to Little Italy earlier in the week. When loading it up, nearly a wagonful, it had seemed like a lot. But when divided among the number of families, it had seemed far too little an offering. He thought about the story he'd read to Kurt and Mitch last night from the Bible, the one about the boy with the scant loaves and fishes and how-with that littlest portion-God had fed thousands. He prayed God would somehow see fit to multiply his efforts and would provide the families what they needed. Before it was too late.

Nearing Molly's, he passed the school building and glimpsed a shadow in the window. He slowed Winsome's pace, wondering if the fading light was playing tricks on his eyes. But no-there it was again. He glanced at the cabin across the field to find a curl of smoke rising from the chimney. Molly was home. So ... who was inside the school?

The door to the schoolhouse opened and a person walked out, followed by two others. Boys. James nudged Winsome in that direction, just wanting to make sure everything was all right.