Beyond This Moment (59 page)

Tension layered the already thick air.

"Well, enjoy your evening, folks;' James said, his tone genuine.

Feeling the onus on her to add something cordial, Molly glanced back at Judith Stafford. "I hope you enjoy your visit, Miss Stafford"

The entire table laughed. Too late, Molly realized she'd made a misstep, and that everyone around them was listening.

Apparently you haven't heard, Miss Whitcomb. " Mayor Davenport leaned forward. "Or perhaps you've been ... indisposed recently. Miss Stafford is our new teacher."

Molly felt time stutter, and heard Lori Beth's words clearly in her memory. "When you're made to stand before others, naked, with all your faults showing, like we have been ... that changes a person." If there was one thing she wanted out of all this, it was to be changed. To be made new. For so long she'd wanted to make a difference in lives around her. But never before had she so wanted her own life, the woman she was, to be changed.

"Congratulations, Miss Stafford;' she heard herself say. "I wish you all the best in your future here, both in school with the children and in Timber Ridge:' And she meant every single word.

Molly waited until the store was about to close before she slipped inside.

"Dr. Whitcomb." Ben Mullins met her coming down the aisle. "I was just about to lock the doors, ma'am." He yawned. "But I'll stay open for you and that sweet little girl anytime:" He lightly patted Jo's back. "Take your time shopping. I'm just going to start bringing the produce inside:"

Molly smiled. "Thank you, but all I need to do is mail this letter" She handed it to him.

He took it from her and stuck it in his apron pocket. "Mail doesn't run tomorrow, of course. So it'll go out first thing Monday morning"

"That'll be just fine:" She looked around the store one last time.

"You sure there's not anything else you need tonight?"

She glanced at the shelf on the far wall. "In fact, I think there is. I'd like a tin of sugar sticks, please:"

Early the next morning, Molly boarded the stage, Jo in her arms and her stomach in knots. Leaving Timber Ridge was difficult enough, but dredging up the nerve to get back onto a stagecoach was nauseating. She chose the seat facing forward this time, and was glad when only two other passengers boarded after her. An elderly couple who sat together on the opposite bench seat. She didn't recognize them.

"You sure you're comfortable in there, Dr. Whitcomb?" Mr. Lewis poked his head inside the window and gave her a conspiratorial wink. "I promise, this'll be a good one this time:'

Molly's pulse raced thinking about their "last one:' and she held Jo closer, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Not in leaving Timber Ridge-she was convinced of that-but in her mode of transportation. Yet there was no other way to get down the mountain other than to ride a horse, and she couldn't exactly do that in freezing weather with a baby.

"Yes, I'm quite comfortable. Thank you:"

"How long you plannin' on bein' gone, ma'am? You're not takin' much:'

She'd only checked her satchel and a small trunk. She was sending the rest of her possessions by wagon, to be sent on a later train, not wanting to risk weighing down the coach. Not with what happened last time. "I haven't thought that completely through yet, Mr. Lewis" She shifted Jo in her arms to face him, hoping the baby would distract him from further questions.

"Well, would you look at her!" Grinning, he reached out and chucked her little chin. "I think she's my youngest passenger yet:' His expression sobered a degree. "You rest assured, ma'am. I'll take care of her. I give you my word:"

The coach shifted as he climbed up to the driver's seat. And when the horses surged forward, Molly's stomach did a little flip. She glanced at her traveling companions, but their eyes were already closed, their heads angled to the side. And she pushed away the unwelcome sense of deja vu.

Thankfully there'd been no new snow in recent days and the roads were clear. The skies were gunmetal gray, and a fog, heavy and thick, hung low over the mountains, shrouding the highest peaks. But Molly didn't have to see them to remember what they looked like.

Some things, once you saw them, stayed with you forever.

Besides Lori Beth, Dr. Brookston was the only one who knew they were leaving this morning. At their last appointment, Dr. Brookston had declared Jo "fit as a feisty little fiddle" and had reluctantly given Molly the name of a physician near Athens, Georgia, who specialized in children's medicine, someone he'd attended school with and that he highly recommended. To say she dreaded going back to Athens was an understatement. She still had the family home there, but it wasn't her home any longer. She'd written to a school in Atlanta-a modest establishment dedicated to teaching teachers-and had received a favorable reply about her credentials and a current opening. Her chest ached as Timber Ridge disappeared from view.

Whatever she ended up doing-God, give me the courage to follow your lead-she knew it would be best done away from Timber Ridge. And away from James. Lord, give him the courage too.

Part of her felt like a coward for not saying good-bye to him faceto-face, but if he'd known she planned to leave, he would have tried to make her stay. That had become clear the night of their dinner at Miss Clara's over a month ago.

He'd held the back of her chair as she'd sat down, and he'd done everything he could that night to show her-and everyone else-that he wasn't ashamed of being in her company. But she was ashamed enough for both of them.

The ride home was quiet, a mirror image of dinner. And when they got back to the house, as soon as he stopped the wagon, she tried to climb down of her own accord. But he'd caught her arm and held her there. "I'd hoped we'd have a chance to talk tonight, Molly. I've missed you. I just need some time to sort things through. To gain my bearings again:" He'd touched her face, and the summoned courage inside her had nearly puddled at her feet.

And that's when she'd known-

He would do it. He would give up everything for her-his reputation, his job, his standing in this town, his entire life here-if she'd let him. But just as she hadn't known what would come from that one hasty decision she'd made after stepping from the train in Sulfur Falls, he had no idea what he was giving up and what repercussions would follow.

But she did.

And she wouldn't do that to him, now knowing how it felt. Not having lived with it. And every time she'd seen him in the past month, her conviction had strengthened.

The coach jostled over the winter-rutted road, and Molly stared out the window, watching the sun burn away the morning fog. The day promised to be a brilliant one.

Jo began to fuss. Molly usually tried gently bouncing her in her arms to distract her, but the stage was already doing that. Nursing her was out of the question with an audience sitting directly across from them-regardless of the couple dozing-so Molly withdrew a rattle from the satchel and tried to interest her. It didn't work.

Jo's disgruntled whimpers grew louder, and Molly cradled her close, patting her back. It was going to be a long ride down the mountain.

This coach was considerably nicer than Mr. Lewis's previous one, but all Molly could think about was how close the wheels would come to the cliff when they rounded the corners. She did relatively well suppressing her mounting anxiety until the terrain outside began to change. And became disturbingly familiar.

The drop-off grew steeper, the road narrower, and her nerves tauter. The boulders in the ravine below resembled teeth, waiting to chew her alive. Again. She scooted toward the opposite side of the seat, as far away from the window, and Devil's Gulch, as she could get. Images from that day last summer flashed in her mind.

The coach made a sudden jerk and expelled the air from her lungs. Jo cried louder.

Molly tightened her hold on her daughter as the stage slowed. Or was it sliding? The elderly couple had awakened and were staring out the window, their expressions inquisitive.

Mr. Lewis called out, whether to the horses or to his passengers, Molly didn't know. She couldn't understand him. But when the stage came to a stop, she froze. The coach tilted to one side, and she braced her feet on the opposite bench, drawing a curious stare from the older woman.

"Sorry, folks:" Mr. Lewis appeared in the window, rubbing his whiskered jaw. "But I ... ah ..." He cleared his throat. "I need to check the harnesses on the horses:' He seemed hesitant to look his passengers in the eye. "We'll be back on the road before you know it:"

He hurried away, and the elderly couple settled back in their seat. Molly let out a breath. Check the harnesses? Check the harnesses! Heart pounding, she grabbed her reticule. No way was she was staying on this stage. Not with Jo. Not again.

Securing her daughter in her arms, she unlatched the door and climbed out. She would walk the rest of the way down. The sun was out. It was warming up, and she could get an extra blanket for Jo from the trunk. It wouldn't be that bad, and-

That's when she saw him. Standing there on the edge of the cliff in his rain-slicked duster and weathered Stetson. She stared, numb inside. Partly from being back in this spot again, but mostly from seeing him here, now. The certainty of her decision began to sway inside her, but looking at him, loving him the way she did, she determined to follow through.

James walked toward her. Handsome hardly began to describe him, especially with that half grin slowly edging up one side of his mouth. "Beg your pardon, ma'am. But do you need some help getting your luggage down?"

"What are you doing here? How did you-"

He pulled an envelope from his pocket. She recognized her handwriting. It was the envelope she'd mailed last night. Or thought she'd mailed. Ben Mullins ...

"I got a special delivery around midnight" He stepped closer, the blue of his eyes turning more so in the sunlight. "Ben had a pretty good tussle with his conscience, but he finally decided this was something I might need to see before Monday." He gave her a scolding look. "He was right:"

Molly found it difficult to hold his gaze. "James ... it's best this way. You don't realize that now. But you will, given time."

I told you once that I'd take you down the mountain ... if and when you ever needed to go:'

Emotion wavered his voice and touched a place inside her. Molly shook her head. "But you wouldn't have. Not if I'd asked. You would have tried to talk me into staying. And I can't stay, James. We both know that."

A gleam lit his eyes. "What I know, Molly, is that you belong with me. Both you and Jo do. Deep down, you know that:"

"Deep down, I know that if I were to stay in Timber Ridge, everything would change for you. And not in a good way. You can no more stop being the sheriff, James, than you can stop breathing. Leading people, protecting people, it's in your blood. I won't be the one to take that future away from you:'

He laughed softly and cradled her cheek. "You are my future, Molly Whitcomb. You and this sweet little girl. I'm a better man, and I'll be a better sheriff, with you beside me:" He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Jo's forehead.

When he raised his head, Molly read the intimacy in his expression and took a backward step. "What if, come spring, the people of Timber Ridge don't agree with that assessment?"

"The people of Timber Ridge don't hold my future. Or yours. God does, and He'll bring what He wants to bring, and He'll take what He wants to take. And I'll do my best to accept whatever comes from His hand. Whether that means being sheriff, or doing something else with my life. But whatever I'm doing"-he moved closer and slipped his arms around her waist-"I want you and this sweet little girl beside me, for as long as God sees fit:"

Emotion welled up in Molly's throat. He seemed so sure, and was so convincing. She found herself wanting to trust his certainty, and the quality of rightness and goodness in his heart that always pointed true north.

He kissed her cheek, his breath warm against her skin. "The toast you made that night, on our sleigh ride ... I've prayed that every day since then, for myself and for you. For us. I don't know how all the pieces of our lives fit together, Molly, but I do know, without a doubt, that God led you here. Of all the places you could have gone, He brought you to Timber Ridge. And to me:" A twinkle lit his eyes. `And I'll tell you this, my bonny lass, I'm not of a mind to let you go either. Not without a good fight:'

She smiled at his brogue and at the mischievous gleam in his expression.

"But if it's a fight you're wantin' "-he winked-"then you've come to the right man, my lady. Because I won't be lettin' you go without one:'

She laughed, and with a trembling hand she touched his face. "I don't want to fight you. Not anymore;' she whispered. `And I don't want to leave you, James McPherson:'

The humor in his expression faded and was replaced by something far more powerful. "Molly, I've got something I've been meaning to give you for a while now. This isn't quite the setting I imagined, but. . " He laughed, glancing at the ravine. "In a way, it seems fitting:"