Dream a Little Dream (16 page)

“M
olly, dear, have you hurt yourself?”

Easing through the doorway of the convention center, Molly smiled at Adela, who was sitting beside the small table on which Dottie Hart's guestbook was displayed. Every muscle in Molly's body hurt. Including her heart. He'd shut her out. Or at least that's what it felt like. Funny thing was she'd never been
in.
Not really.

All the time she'd been getting ready for the shower, her mind had been searching, wondering what had happened to upset Bob. She hadn't imagined it. He had been angry. Or upset.

They had been getting along so well. At one point during the afternoon she'd even thought…well, she thought he was going to kiss her. And she'd wanted him to. She'd wanted it so much it had startled her. But then in a flash everything had upended.

“I've been bottle-feeding two practically grown bulls.”

Adela smiled, and her vivid blue eyes twinkled. “A delightful experience.”

“You've done it?” She nodded and Molly could not picture Adela doing what she'd done today. There was not enough imagination in the world for her to picture Adela face-first in the dirt. “I bet you told them very sweetly to sit up and drink and they did exactly what you told them to do.”

Adela smiled that serene smile of hers and patted the chair beside her. “After you've made the rounds, come and sit with me and I'll tell you all about it. I loved my babies.”

“I would like that,” Molly said.

The room was filled. Since Molly was running late, it seemed everyone had arrived ahead of her. She wasn't really a big conversationalist in crowds. She was a reporter. She observed. She set herself outside of herself and documented facts. She hugged Dottie, congratulated her on her upcoming marriage, then settled back with a cup of punch and took in her surroundings. To some it would look as if she was actually participating, but she wasn't.

She'd done it all her life. At home where it was better to be invisible. In high school, for a lonely girl without friends, reporting was a way of exploring other people's lives. Her writing was noticed by the teacher who oversaw the school paper. She'd been recruited and the little dream she'd first imagined while hiding in her closet as her parents fought started to take shape.

For the first time, looking around the convention center, she didn't feel disconnected from everyone. Lacy wouldn't let her, nor Sheri. It was like the first day she'd
arrived in Mule Hollow. Those two had seen straight through her, as if recognizing that she was hiding inside the reporter shell. They didn't pressure her, but they loved to get her involved.

Molly knew that reaching out to people was Lacy's gift. Sheri credited Lacy with helping her overcome extreme shyness. And Lacy had done an outstanding job, because Sheri Marsh was now one of the most out-spoken people Molly had ever met.

Molly scanned the room. Lilly Wells stood near the cake chatting with Norma Sue, who was holding Lilly's son, Joshua. That little baby was getting bigger every day. His cute little cherub cheeks were fat and rosy as he cackled at the face Norma Sue was making at him.

Cassie was laughing with Esther Mae and Sheri. Without even hearing any conversation, she knew it had to be an interesting one.

In the middle of the room stood Ashby Templeton and Rose Vinson. Tall and elegant, Ashby had moved to Mule Hollow at the same time as Molly to open her dress store. Rose was from the newly-established shelter No Place Like Home, and Molly had heard she'd just started working for Ashby.

Molly took a sip of her punch and met Adela's gaze as she scanned the room. She really wondered why Adela and Sam had never married. It was hard to think that the two long-time friends could just be shy. Or maybe they were scared.

Now wouldn't that be a quandary?

“Hey! You are in deep thought about something.”

Molly almost dropped her punch, Lacy startled her
so badly. “Didn't your mom ever teach you not to sneak up on a person?” She shot a fake glare at her friend.

“Believe me, my mama tried to teach me a lot of things that didn't stick. So tell me how it's going out there in Bob land.”

Molly scowled for real at that. “That man is driving me crazy, Lacy.”

Lacy beamed at her. “Really? Like
cra-a-zzy!
” she drew the word out and waggled her eyebrows at the same time. “Like Patsy Cline crazy?”

Molly glanced around to be sure no one else was within hearing distance. “Honestly, Lacy, yes.” Now she'd admitted it to someone. And she knew she was not in her right mind, because she had admitted it.

Lacy rammed her orange fingernails into her wind-blown curls and Molly almost choked on the sip of punch she'd inhaled as Lacy barely contained the whoop of joy that came out as a very expressive whisper. Followed by a slap on the back! And sloshed punch.

“Yep, yep, yep! I knew there was something between the two of you. I knew it. Of course I wasn't the only one—”

“Lacy,” Molly hissed in a whisper. “Please get a hold of yourself. I said he was driving me crazy. There's an attraction. I didn't say I was giving in to it. Bob Jacobs is not looking for a woman like me. I don't meet any of the criteria that he's listed as his must-haves in a wife. Besides—”

“Christian,” Lacy cut her off. “You meet the most important part. The two of you would be equally yoked. If you love the Lord and you love each other, what else
is there? With those two points taken care of, anything else would be secondary.”

“Not when two people are on separate continents.” There—she'd got it out.

“Molly. You are not going to leave us. We need you. I know it. I know I do, Molly. I really do.”

“Lacy. There are two problems with your theory. One, who said Bob and I love each other? And two, I've been planning my entire life for a career as a journalist with some sort of connection to assignments overseas. I want to do work that has real potential to help change the world. And I'm hot right now. I know I have a real shot at three different openings and hope to hear something positive any day now.”

“Look, Molly. I know you sent those résumés out and I know you're going to hear positive things back from them. Your work is wonderful and they'd be mad not to give you a job. But we need you here. Bob needs you. And others—have you not realized the people you influence with your column?”

They were starting to attract attention from others in the room and Molly didn't want to have everyone start in on her about staying in Mule Hollow. “Lacy. Shh. Everyone is looking and this is supposed to be about Dottie this afternoon.”

Lacy plopped her hand to her jutting hip and cocked her head to the side, causing her hair to jiggle. “They all know, Molly. They've all watched you watching Bob sing in the choir on Sundays ever since you moved here. You are in love with the man.”

“Lacy, that's ridiculous.”

The entire room had slowly shifted closer to her. This wedding shower was supposed to be about Dottie, so why were they all watching her?

“Molly, you hang tough,” Sheri called, raising her glass of sherbet punch and shaking her newly straightened brown hair. “Don't get married until you're ready. And if you want to travel and have a career then go for it. But run from this place. Run very, very fast.”

“Sheri,” Esther Mae gasped. “Don't tell her that. I know you think the fun ends at marriage, but you're wrong. Me and Hank always have fun.”

Molly knew Esther Mae was talking to a wall when it came to Sheri getting married. She had no intentions of settling anytime in the near future. The girl loved dating and her freedom.

“Esther Mae, some of us just don't want to get tied down yet,” Sheri said. “I never met a man I couldn't handle. I'm just trying to tell Molly that if she knows what she wants out of life, she should go for it. If I ever, in the really far-off future, find the man of my dreams, believe me, I will let nothing stand in my way to get him. But that is not happening anytime soon. I'm having a blast just as I am. But even so, I stopped drinking the water just in case.” She jogged across the room and hugged Molly tight. It brought tears to Molly's eyes—because it hurt her sore muscles. “Remember, Molly, repeat after me, don't drink the water. There's something in it that makes you want to get married. And it's catching.”

 

Bob limped into the dining room, carrying a metal garbage can firmly in his grasp. His world had been
bonkers and it was time to set it right. Tossing the letters was the first thing. He wished the best for each and every woman who'd sent him a letter, but he had no desire to open them and he knew it wouldn't do him any good anyway. He wasn't interested.

Nope, for months now he'd pushed thoughts of Molly from his mind. He'd known early on that she wasn't the woman for him. There were too many things about her that just didn't fit…and yet he'd found himself right back to thinking about her when he let his guard down. He was on a collision course with heartbreak and he knew it.

It baffled him that she could write such admirable words about him and then not have any feelings for him.

But how could it get any plainer? The woman had gone so far as to start reading the letters. There were two neat stacks started. Two piles meant one thing. She was making him a yes and no pile.

Pathetic. Here he stood in a roomful of love letters being screened by the woman who couldn't wait to marry him off to one of the authoresses, and what was he doing? Like a fool he was daydreaming about her! It was downright wrong.

Bending forward, ignoring the rupture of pain in his rib cage, he raked as much of the pile as would fit into the trash can. Then he headed outside.

It was time to put down his foot. Time to get his head on straight and put order back into his life.

 

“Bob!” Molly exclaimed, coming up behind him. He stood at the back past the barn, watching the fire in the
burn-barrel. Before she asked, she knew what he was burning. Something in her head told her the moment she turned into his driveway and saw the smoke what was going on. He'd been angry before she left, but this? “Why?” she asked simply.

“Because I was tired of smelling them,” he said, not bothering to turn around and look at her.

She was at a loss for words. After all, it was his business. She'd been out of line initiating the letters. But even with the nagging, sour feeling in her stomach, she'd had to acknowledge that there were some good ones mixed in there. Burning up with the rest of them.

A blast of anger swept through her and she started to open her mouth to tell him so, but clamped it shut instead. It wasn't for her to say what he did with the letters. It didn't matter that she wanted to say something so bad she could hardly stand it. She wasn't here to run his life. She was here to make up for a mistake, and the sooner she remembered that the better off she'd be.

Anyway, it was obvious she was kidding herself. Bob didn't need her anymore.

S
tanding in the summer sun, feeling it warm her cold skin, Molly reminded herself she'd come here to make up for messing with Bob's life. It didn't matter that he'd told her he was glad it had given them time together. What did time together matter when in the end there was no place for it to go?

Spinning away while she had the fortitude, she walked back around the barn and down the length of fence until she came to the connecting pen where Baby One and Baby Two were corralled.

“How are my babies doing?” she said, not feeling the least bit enthused as she leaned over the fence and held out her hand. Baby Two was the first to come to her, and he nuzzled her open palm with his black nose. Despite her glumness, Molly laughed as a sudden feeling of contentment settled over her. It was the oddest thing.

After a few seconds, Baby One must have felt left out, because he trotted over and bullied his way into the
front. “Hey, play nice, little man.” She rubbed the soft hair between his floppy ears and when Baby Two crowded up beside the fence, she reached out and scratched his forehead with her other hand. She was going to miss them. Bob's horse whinnied from his pen, wanting in on some of the action.

“Sorry, buddy, but I really don't know the first thing about what to do for you.”

She said nothing when Bob walked up beside her. Molly refused to look at him, continuing instead to study Baby One and Two as she scratched their heads. She could see his profile from the corner of her eye and knew he was silently studying his horse. Tension hung around them. Obviously whatever had been wrong with him before she left for the shower hadn't righted itself.

For Molly it was hard to stay mad at the man she wanted only the best for. The calves butted heads trying to be greedy with her touch so she pulled back and tucked her fingers in the pockets of her jeans. “Bob,” she said, finally looking at him.

“Look Molly, I…” He rammed his hands though his hair, and she was glad to see that he didn't flinch. “I didn't mean to make you mad. I know burning the letters probably hurt your feelings. I know you think my soul mate is in there, but she's not. And honestly, I don't want to think about that right now.”

Molly closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about it, either. She was tired of thinking about it.

“You're not a horse person?”

His quiet question was a simple signal to let it go. Could she? She took a breath and met his gaze. She'd
been so busy with the calves she hadn't given his big horse much thought. Clint or one of his hands had been taking care of his needs. “I've never been around them, being raised in the city like I was. And since I've been in Mule Hollow, I've not had an opportunity to be around them. You know, my writing keeps me busy.”

He nodded his head but didn't say anything. For a moment they both watched Clyde prance up and down the fence line trying to draw attention to himself.

“I think he misses you.” Molly looked up at Bob again, her stomach tied in knots.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Broken ribs or not, I'm going to have to take him for a ride soon. For my own enjoyment.”

“But Clint can do that. You'll hurt yourself.” No sooner were the words out than she wanted to kick herself. She was not his mother and he was obviously tired of everything, the matchmaking and being nursed. She closed her eyes and willed the protective nagging to go away. Her thoughts were so in need of a rest. “I'm sorry. I'm doing it again.” She turned her back to him slightly and sighed. “You are a grown man and I cannot figure out why I keep interfering in your business. I've been thinking about it all day.” It had become a constant in her life, this concern for him.

A gentle tug on a strand of hair had her looking over her shoulder. Bob had taken a step and was standing so close she could see the tiny flecks of baby-blue that fringed the midnight centers of his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Why did she care so much about Bob? She remembered the kiss, the gentle touch that she
knew had no meaning to him. How could it when he hadn't even known he'd given it to her?

“Molly, your worrying doesn't bother me. It's nice. But…it's time for me to get back to work before I go any more stir-crazy. Tomorrow there's a private sale I've been planning to attend for weeks. I want to add to my stock, so I'm going.”

Molly's instinct was to tell him he wasn't ready, but she bit her lip, instead. She'd known this was coming, that her time here was almost up. She just hadn't realized how much she wasn't ready to give it up. And now he was telling her he didn't need her anymore.

“Do you want to come?”

“What?” she gasped, completely shocked and pleased by his question. It was a peace offering. Nothing more. But that didn't keep her heart from dancing. “Are you sure? I…I might try to baby you.”

“No babyin' allowed,” he said sternly, his eyes coming back to life as he grinned the trademark melt-your-heart smile of his.

“If you're sure. I could use the experience for an article.”

“So is that a yes?”

She nodded. “Yes. I would love to go.”

“Good.” He studied her, more like the old Bob. “Come on.” He took her hand, startling her with his touch.

He strode toward the barn and though he had the cumbersome orthopedic boot on his fractured leg, he hobbled along at a fast clip. And she was stumbling out of surprise.

“Where are we going?”

“I figure you might as well get all the firsthand experience you can while you're here.”

“Okay, what does that mean?”

“You are going to ride my horse.”

“What? I mean, I've never ridden a horse before.”

“Then there's no time like the present to learn.”

Molly skidded on the cement, trying to get traction. “No. I can't.”

He stopped in front of a saddle sitting on a rack and then walked over and opened the gate that Clyde had galloped up to as if he knew what was about to happen. The big brown horse let out a heavy breath and snapped his hooves to the ground in excitement. Molly stepped away. The horse was huge. Really big.

She was five-eight and yet she still had to raise her chin to look into his eyes. And he was staring at her.

“I, uh, no.”

Bob laughed at her inability to verbalize her objection.

“For a reporter you do have a way with words.”

“Not fair. I can't—”

“‘Can't' never could do anything. Don't you know that?”

Molly watched as he pulled a thick multicolored horse blanket off the wooden fence and laid it over Clyde's back. The big horse didn't move a muscle, just kept right on staring into Molly's eyes. “They can sense fear, can't they?” she asked, knowing that if it was true, this horse had her number.

“You'll do fine, Molly. I'm going to be right beside you.”

She noticed that he didn't answer her question. But
she knew the horse knew she was scared. Clyde blinked his long lashes and leaned his head to the side, watching her. He did have the most beautiful chocolate-colored eyes. And those lashes were to die for. Maybe he wouldn't be so bad.

Bob lifted the saddle and she heard his sharp intake of breath. “See, you're hurting yourself. You should not be doing this.” She moved to take part of the weight of the saddle and ended up helping him place it on Clyde's back.

“Thank you.”

She was dismayed that he was hurting himself and that she'd actually helped in her own demise. She gaped at him as he grunted when he reached for the girder or the girdle—she didn't know what the thing was called, but she knew it was the important part, because it held the saddle on the horse's back. Wringing her hands together as one, she pointed. “Do it tight,” she instructed. That got her an insolent look.

“Relax, Molly. Do you trust me?”

Molly hesitated.

“Ha!” he laughed. “You wrote all those nice things about me and told almost the entire world what a wonderful catch I was and you don't trust me! I'm devastated.” He laid his right hand over his heart and batted his beautiful navy eyes.

Smiling, she poked his arm. “Yes, I trust you. You jumped to conclusions.”

“You hesitated.”

They were standing close staring at each other. Molly could see the edges of his lips quiver and felt the response of her own. They burst into laughter simulta
neously. Of course she could tell Bob immediately regretted it when his expression crashed from grinning to a grimace of pain instantly.

Molly covered her cheeks with her palms, then clamped her lips together to try and get control of herself. Watching him in pain was not the time to dissolve into giggles.

“What are we going to do now? You refused the last batch of letters forwarded from the newspaper and now you've burned up all the perfectly good wedding proposals. Your mailbox has been stolen and there is no more cake in your kitchen. What am I going to do with you?”

Bob reached for the halter and trailed a hand down Clyde's neck. “I don't know what you're going to do about me, but I'm going to give you your very first horseback lesson. And forget about all that other. Remember.”

Molly realized that she was looking forward to riding lessons from Bob.

Watching his gentleness with Clyde and the way the big horse trusted him, Molly knew she had nothing to fear as long as Bob was beside her. She did trust him.

It was something she'd known even before he'd rescued her from Sylvester.

She'd known from the first day she'd met him.