Yet the handful of times she had seen him in recent weeks had been heartbreaking. The ever-so-polite conversation, the distance, the reminder of what might have been.
At one time, she'd thought that maintaining a friendship with him would be possible, even if they couldn't mean more to each other. But that had been short-sighted on her part. It was impossible for her to be with him and not want more. She thought she'd glimpsed that same desire in his eyes too-once, when they'd met by chance on the street-which made her even more determined to leave town as soon as possible.
She couldn't allow him to sacrifice his life in Timber Ridge, his reputation, all the good he'd done in this town and would do in the future, for her. Because if she did, she would be destroying the very man she loved. Taking something just because she wanted it, no matter howbadly, wasn't love. Being willing to do what was best for the other person-even if it meant sacrificing what she thought was best for herself-was. And her love for James wouldn't allow her to do any less.
A few days later, Charlie drove her and Lori Beth out to Little Italy. Molly had heard about the progress that had been made but could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw the rows of clapboard homes standing straight and tall and proud. Gone were the tents and the makeshift lean-tos. Someone had even constructed a seesaw and swing. It was a real community now.
People came out of their homes to greet her, and Mrs. Giordano met them on the street and kissed her cheeks. Angelo had returned home in recent days, his cuts and bruises all but healed. His right arm was out of the sling, and Miss Clara's cooking had put some meat on his bones, as the woman had promised it would.
"Dr. Brookston;' Angelo said as they walked. "He teach me about medicine. He say I learn well:"
Molly smiled. "You do learn well, Angelo. And you learn quickly. You're a very smart young man:"
They stopped by the wagon, where Charlie and Lori Beth were already seated and waiting. "But I would not have this learning. We would not have this"-he looked around-"if not for you, and Sheriff McPherson. I am glad God brought you from this Georgia where you were, Dr. Whitcomb:" He looked up at Lori Beth, who held Jo bundled in a blanket. "I miss your Jo. But not her crying at night:'
Molly laughed and hugged him tight.
On the way back into town, she couldn't help thinking of the good that had been done in Little Italy and in Angelo's life, and this after so much bad. She stared across the fields covered with snow and listened to the rumble of the wagon wheels. The Scripture she'd read the other night was holding true-God really did work all things together for good for those who loved Him, and who were called according to His purpose.
His purpose though. Not hers.
Charlie drove through town on the way back to Lori Beth's, and Molly sat wedged beside Lori Beth on the bench seat, Jo having nursed and resting contentedly in her arms. She tried to keep her eyes straight ahead, but occasionally they would wander and she would brush the gaze of someone she knew. Some people looked away quickly, acting as if they hadn't seen her. Others met her gaze and gave a solemn nod. Still others simply stared, then looked away.
"Daggett! Slow up!"
Molly recognized the voice, and her heart leapt to her throat. She turned and saw James riding toward them.
He guided Winsome alongside the wagon, next to her. "Good day to you all:"
"Good day, Sheriff." Charlie motioned behind them. "We just been out to Little Italy. I was showing the women what's been done:"
James smiled. "It's really coming along. We've got a church to build yet, come spring, but we'll get it done:" His gaze fell to Jo. "How's Miss Josephine?"
Molly swallowed before speaking. She seemed to have a perpetual catch in her throat every time she saw him. "She's doing well. Dr. Brookston says he's very pleased with her progress:" She made a point of touching the pink blanket James had given her the day following Jo's birth. "Thank you again, for this. It's her favorite:"
James smiled, keeping Winsome's pace with the wagon's. "Would you be willing to have dinner with me this weekend ... Miss Whitcomb?"
The question caught her off guard, as did the way he addressed her, and Molly had trouble responding. A subtle nudge from Lori Beth helped that along. "I ... um. . " Molly knew she shouldn't. She needed to say no. But when she looked into his eyes... "Yes, I'd ... like that very much."
"Good:" One side of his mouth edged up. "I'll pick you up Saturday night, at seven:"
Molly turned to watch him as he rode away.
Molly was ready by five oclock on Saturday. She stood in front of the mirror, trying to decide whether she should wait until seven, when he arrived, or if she should ride out to Rachel's to tell James what a bad idea their having dinner was.
"Stop fidgeting, Molly. You look stunning:"
Molly looked past her reflection in the mirror to see Lori Beth standing in the doorway. She gave a soft laugh. "What am I doing, Lori Beth?"
"You're going to dinner with a man who-telling by the way he looks at you-loves you very much:"
That wasn't what Molly needed to hear, but it was exactly what she was thinking. "But that's just it. Nothing can come of this, so why am I acting as if it could? I can't stay here, Lori Beth. I've told you before ... I'm not as strong as you are:"
Lori Beth sat on the edge of the bed, mindful of Jo, who was nestled between pillows, making soft cooing noises. "I remember when you first said that to me-that you thought I was strong:' Lori Beth's expression turned thoughtful. "I carried that around inside me for days, turning it over. And I realized that my staying here in Timber Ridge isn't because I'm stronger than you, Molly. I think it's because that, with time, and perspective, I've learned that we all have things we'd rather hide, that we'd prefer to keep locked away. Even from God, if we could. Mostly from Him, I guess:' She stroked Jo's cheek. "But when you're made to stand before others, naked, so to speak;' she said, her eyes widening, "with all your faults showing, like we have been ... that changes a person.
"Seeing yourself for who you really are, without your Sunday-go-to- meetin'-clothes on, as Charlie might say. . " She huffed softly, smiling. "It makes a person more grateful for having been forgiven of so much:" She stared outside into the fading light, her eyes glistening. "Because once you've seen yourself without Him, you realize you don't ever want to see yourself like that again:" She blinked and slowly stood, smoothing her hands over her skirt. A surprisingly perky grin swept her face. "Most people never get the chance to see themselves so clearly. So I guess that makes you and me kind of lucky."
Molly smiled, marveling at the depth of humility in this woman, while also asking God to take the dross in her own life and bring good from it. And to please, please shield her daughter from the repercussions of her mother's mistakes.
When James stopped the wagon across the street from Miss Clara's cafe, Molly wanted to grab the reins and head back in the direction from which they'd come. It was Saturday evening and the dining room was full. What was he thinking in bringing her here? And what had she been thinking to accept his invitation in the first place?
He'd been right on time, and conversation on the way had been superficially pleasant, nothing of great importance, and had kept the awkwardness at an almost bearable level.
James helped her down from the wagon and his hands lingered on her waist. She didn't dare look up at him. Her arms suddenly felt so empty without Jo, and an inexplicable longing to hold her daughter came over her, to stare into her pink-skinned face and kiss the reddish blond fuzz of hair crowning her head.
"I thought you might bring Jo along;' he said quietly, sounding disappointed. He didn't move away.
"I wish now that I had. I was just thinking of how much I miss her." Molly waited for him to say, "Well, why don't I take you home, then;' but he didn't. And she knew Lori Beth and Charlie would be disappointed if she returned too soon.
He offered her his arm, and she slipped her hand through, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but removed it before he opened the door.
Just as it had the night she'd discovered Lori Beth eating there alone, conversation in the dining room dropped to a simmer and heads turned.
Molly glanced around, careful not to meet anyone's eye, and didn't see an open table. Still embarrassed, though relieved, she started to turn but then saw Miss Clara waving at them, motioning toward the front. There, by the window, sat an empty table for two in the corner, and Molly couldn't help wondering if James had prearranged the table, and if the man had taken leave of every last bit of good sense she knew he had.
She glanced back at him, barely vocalizing the words. "James, I really don't think-"
"There's a table free in the corner there" His eyes said he knew exactly what she meant, but his palm pressed gently, yet firmly, against the small of her back urged her forward.
Molly had no choice but to comply and kept her head down.
James greeted everyone they passed by name, and without exception, everyone reciprocated. But it wasn't the congenial, warmhearted response she'd witnessed so many times. God, give me the courage to follow your lead, no matter where it takes me.
How often had she prayed that in recent days....
Responding to a silent inner warning, Molly glanced up-and stopped abruptly. Directly ahead was LuEllen Spivey. But it wasn't only Mrs. Spivey's scathing stare that nailed her boots to the floor, it was LuEllen's husband, Arlin, and Mayor and Eliza Davenport-and Miss Judith Stafford, Mrs. Spivey's niece. The five occupied a table a few feet away, set directly in their path.
Molly prayed the floor would open wide and swallow her whole. Either that or perhaps this was what James needed for him to finally realize how foolish an idea this was, and he would take her home.
A possessive arm came about her waist. "One step at a time;' James whispered feather-soft in her ear, and guided her toward certain doom.
43
olly forced a pleasant countenance, unable to find anything within her resembling a believable smile. She tried to go left in the hope of avoiding LuEllen Spivey's table, but as if on cue, a gentleman pushed back his chair and stood. James's hand on her arm guided her forward, and Molly cringed inwardly.
James paused by Arlin Spivey's chair. "Arlin, Mayor ... ladies. How are you this evening?"
Mayor Davenport didn't even look in Molly's direction. "We're fine ... Sheriff. It's a bit crowded in here tonight, though."
`And getting more so by the minute:' LuEllen Spivey's smile looked as if it might snap in two.
Molly felt James move closer to her, the underlying possessiveness of his gesture unmistakable.
"Molly"-James touched her arm, his personal manner of address not lost on her-"I'm sure you remember meeting Miss Stafford at the town celebration:"
"W-why, of course I do" Molly met the young woman's eyes and wasn't surprised not to find a friend there. What was James doing? "It's nice to see you again, Miss Stafford:"
"Likewise ... I'm sure:"