Beyond This Moment (54 page)

Molly followed Mary Willis from the sheriffs office, admiring the baby in the woman's arms. "Callie's beautiful, Mary. She's just beautiful:'

Mary kissed her daughter's forehead, love evident in her eyes. "Dean and I still can't believe she's ours." Her eyes brightened. "Would you like to hold her?"

"Oh.. " Molly's heart skipped a tender beat. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Mind?" Mary made a face as though the question were silly. "Here ..."

Molly cradled the sleeping little girl in her arms, breathing in her sweet scent. "She's perfect;' she whispered, not wanting to awaken her. She firmed her lips to stem the tears. It had been a long night, and promised to be an even longer day. But with the sun shining down as it was, it could have been an early day in spring instead of mid-December in the Rockies.

Angelo was holding his own, as Dr. Brookston had said earlier. He'd awakened only once and hadn't spoken yet, and was bruised in more places than not. She wouldn't have thought a boy that slight of build could take such a beating and live. Not for the first time, Angelo Giordano's tenacity had surprised her. And Dr. Brookston's skill continued to impress her. He'd insisted she get some rest during the night, and she was glad now that she had.

James and Deputy Willis joined them on the boardwalk, still discussing the outcome of the meeting with Davenport and Rudger. She was so proud of how James had handled the situation. Timber Ridge was fortunate to have him as sheriff. What LuEllen Spivey had said to her the evening before returned, and though she knew Mrs. Spivey had a spiteful side, she also knew that what the woman had said held bits and pieces of truth.

More than bits and pieces ...

Molly caught James staring at little Callie, and his blue eyes mirrored the same longing she felt. Oh, how she wished things were different.

Deputy Willis fingered his daughter's bonnet. "Anybody up for breakfast? Miss Clara's open on Saturday mornings now."

They all laughed, but Molly saw James look in her direction. She gave a half shrug, thinking of the packing she had to do. But she was also famished, and not overly tired-yet. She nodded. "Then, maybe we can stop by Dr. Brookston's and check on Angelo?"

" James smiled. "My thoughts exactly."

Miss Clara's was busy, but it didn't take long to get their food, and the more Molly ate, the more renewed she felt. Or perhaps it was the two cups of Miss Clara's stout coffee. Mary held Callie, and Molly reached over and brushed a finger against the silk of the little girl's cheek.

Tallie's extra special to us." Deputy Willis tucked his napkin beside his plate. "I'm not sure if Mary told you, ma'am, but we lost our first baby, a son, when Mary was right at seven months along-"

"Dean!" Mary threw him a look, her cheeks growing pink.

Molly's heart skipped a beat, but she forced a weak smile. Mary had lost a baby in her seventh month of pregnancy?

Deputy Willis sighed. "I-I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't-" He shook his head. "I flat out wasn't thinking:'

"No;' Molly whispered. "That's all right, really." Her seventh month? "I'm ... deeply sorry for your loss:" That was so far along to lose a child, and similar to where she was in her own pregnancy.

Their parting with the couple moments later on the boardwalk was subdued and slightly awkward, but Molly held no ill will toward the deputy. He'd meant nothing by what he'd said, and she told herself it had no bearing on her situation.

She and James arrived at the clinic to find that Angelo hadn't awakened again. Dr. Brookston assured her that was best for now, to give the boy's body time to heal, and insisted she go on home. Molly retrieved the still-unopened gift Lori Beth had given her from the back room and met James outside.

She accepted his help onto the horse, riding sidesaddle, then leaned forward as he swung up behind her. The gentle plod of Winsome's unhurried gait and the warmth of the sun lulled her into shutting her eyes. When she opened them again, she saw the turnoff to her cabin. Her cabin. That wouldn't hold true much longer.

James paused. "We don't have the sleigh, but it sure is a pretty day for a ride. If you're up to it:'

His hopeful tone was persuasive, as was thinking of the packing that awaited her if she went home. "A ride sounds nice."

He guided Winsome around the cabin and up a trail Molly had walked twice before, only she'd never gone past the large boulder where the path forked. The trail to the left looked as though it continued on around the ridge. The other way, more narrow and twisting, led higher into the mountains. James nudged the mare to the right.

The incline grew steep, and Molly leaned back into him. His arms came around her and her unborn child, and she smiled, wondering if this closeness had figured into his choice of trail. A spasm tightened across her midsection, and she squeezed her eyes shut. It took every ounce of concentration to breathe normally until the discomfort passed. Finally, she exhaled deep. This was the strongest one so far. Dr. Brookston had told her she'd have mild contractions on occasion, but what had he meant by mild?

James leaned to one side. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. I just think the baby's telling me we need some rest"

"We won't be long:"

"No, no ... I'm enjoying this." And she was, but another pain like that one and she would ask him to take her back.

The trail gradually leveled again and James reined in. They sat in silence for the longest time, staring out over the world below, and the world beyond. Wave after wave of mountain ranges rose majestic white against the cobalt sky, stacked one behind the other for as far as Molly could see. Ethereal beauty ... The air was cooler up here than down in the valley, and she appreciated the warmth from both James and Winsome.

"There's something I need to speak to you about, Molly."

She closed her eyes, not having forgotten about this, and guessing what was coming. "James, perhaps ... with everything else that's happened, it might be best to wait until later."

His arms tightened around her. "I don't think so. I think you need to know this ... now."

She stole a glance behind her. His expression was noticeably more serious than before, as was his tone. `All right;' she whispered, facing forward again, wondering if she'd guessed wrong.

"Molly, you and I have spoken about our homes, and our families ... what it was like growing up. Your parents ... your father and mother," he added quickly, as though needing to clarify the term parents. "They sound like they were fine people. Yours was a proper heritage, your family name well honored, well thought of."

She didn't follow what he was saying, but he seemed so intent on finding the right words, she kept silent, not wanting to make this any harder for him. At the same time, her imagination darted in all directions, coming back empty as to what he might say next.

He exhaled. "I'm not doing a very good job of this, am I?"

"I think you're doing fine:' She turned so he could see her smile. "Of course, I have no idea what you're trying to tell me:"

He touched the side of her face, then drew his hand away. "What I'm trying to tell you is this.... My family-the family I described to you before-was my family. At least ... it was how I saw it until I got older. Until I learned the truth:"

She would have sworn from his tone that he'd winced.

"My father was a physician, as you already know. I was never close to him growing up, but didn't understand why until later in life:"

Unhindered silence filled the passing seconds, and Molly settled her gaze on a mountain peak far in the distance. And waited.

"The reason I'm telling you all this is because"-his breath came out part laugh, part sigh-"is because I care for you ... so much:" His hand inched forward until it rested on the swell of her belly. "I care for you both;' he whispered in her ear, his face closer now.

Molly closed her eyes and covered his hand.

"It hurt when you told me about the baby." His breath was warm against her cheek. "When I realized you'd lied to me, to us. But that's behind us now," he whispered. "I understand what it's like to be afraid that something will change people's opinions of you-if they knew the truth:'

Never had she so wanted to know what someone would say next. She could scarcely hear over the pounding in her chest.

"When my father was on his deathbed, he told me the truth ... about something he'd done:" His voice went cold and hard. "My father was an excellent physician, but he was not a moral man. He had ... relationships with women outside of his and my mother's marriage. A woman he'd had an affair with ... she came to be with child:"

A sickening premonition welled up inside her, and Molly swallowed. She stared at his hand beneath hers. It began to tremble.

"That woman ... she died giving birth to a son. When my father-" His voice caught. He cleared his throat. "When he brought the boy home;' he said, his deep voice gravelly, "he gave him to my mother and told her that one of his patients had died that day, that the woman had no family and had left the boy orphaned. My mother, God bless her soul, had lost her first child to a stillbirth ... only weeks earlier:"

Tears choked Molly's throat. She squeezed his hand. "You ..." she whispered, "were that baby."

He didn't answer for the longest time. "My mother didn't learn the truth until a year after he brought me home:" He sniffed. "She said that by then it didn't matter where I'd come from-or from whom-that I was already hers:"

Molly suppressed a sob. So that was it ... the pain responsible for this man's discerning spirit. As what he'd told her became clearer, so did the reason he was telling her. He felt obliged that she be told of the inferiority of his birth. Of his lack of heritage in comparison to hers. Ever the Southern gentleman, no matter where the gentleman was.

The irony of the situation struck a dull and dissonant chord inside her. Sensing he was awaiting her response, she looked back, careful with what she said. Because she knew he would remember this once she told him who she really was. "You are the finest man I've ever known, James McPherson. Nothing you've told me changes that. Or ever will:"

He kissed her, but it was different this time. There was a sweet shyness in the way he held her, in the way his mouth moved over hers, as though he wanted to drink her in, yet was reluctant to, wanting to savor it. Savor her. Just as she was him.

The ride down the mountain was quiet, and Molly felt a silent clock ticking inside her, the pendulum slicing off the seconds.

All his life, James had tried to forget who had given him birth. And since Molly had been in Timber Ridge, she'd been trying to forget who she was, and what she'd done. Two people on such diverse, yet similar, converging paths. But no matter what good she'd done since moving to Timber Ridge, no matter what lessons she'd learned or how much she regretted her choice, in James's eyes, once he knew, she would always be ... that woman.

41

ack at the cabin, Molly held on to James's shoulders as he eased her down off the horse. She tried to quiet the question inside her, but it wouldn't be stifled. "Did you ever learn who she was? The woman who gave birth to you?"

James didn't meet her eyes. "No. I never had any desire to know who she was. Not after knowing what she was ... and what she'd done:"

Seeing the hardness in his expression, the lingering hurt, and this after so many years, she wished now that she hadn't asked the question. "Thank you ... for the ride this afternoon. And for telling me" He'd been right. She had needed to know this about him, only not for the reasons he thought.

A wave of fatigue hit her, as did another spasm. Only not as hard as before, and it didn't last as long. Perhaps she shouldn't have taken that ride after all. Her back was aching and breakfast wasn't sitting too well. James walked her to the door, and she slipped the key from her pocket into the lock, eager to get to bed.

"You get some rest:" He held out his arm and assisted her into the cabin. "I'll do the same and be back later this afternoon, to help you pack:"

`And we'll go see Angelo?" she asked, already knowing the answer.