Beyond This Moment (42 page)

"You're shaking. Are you cold?" James reached for her hands beneath the tablecloth.

Molly gently pulled away. "So she-" Her voice caught. She cleared her throat. "She has a child?"

James glanced around them, his expression unsettled. "The baby died at birth;' he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "A boy, from what I was told. It was before Brookston came. There was something wrong with the baby, and the midwife didn't know what to do. Some folks said it was for the best, but I can't hold to that. A baby dying never seems right ... no matter how it was brought into the world:' His sigh came heavy. "Miss Matthews mostly keeps to herself now. She comes into town every so often, but I don't know how much contact she has with other folks." He looked up and came to his feet.

Molly turned to see Charlie and Lori Beth coming their way. Her hands still shaking, she sat up straighter and tried to put on a pleasant countenance. But all she could think about was Lori Beth's baby lying somewhere in the cold dark ground. She covered her midsection, as though she could shield her own baby from a similar fate.

Charlie and Lori Beth joined them at the table, laughing, plates piled high.

"This all looks mighty good;' Charlie said, holding Lori Beth's chair out.

"Yes, it does:" Lori Beth beamed up at him. "I've never seen so much delicious-looking food:"

James took his seat. "Charlie, it's good to see you. Miss Matthews ... good evening to you, ma'am."

"Good evening, Sheriff McPherson." Lori Beth unfolded her napkin, pausing in the act. "If I could, Sheriff... I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you for your kindness and that of your friend, Mr. Ranslett, earlier this summer. The elk meat you left at my door was delicious:"

Surprise sharpened James's features.

Molly stared, waiting for him to respond. But he didn't, which wasn't like him. If she read him right, he'd thought the meat had been left anonymously. But apparently that hadn't been the case. And for some reason, that caught him off guard.

As if eager to cover the sudden silence, Lori Beth motioned to Molly's plate. "You haven't eaten much, Molly. Are you feeling all right?"

Struggling to hold herself together, Molly nodded. "Yes, yes, I'm fine:" But her voice came out stilted and unconvincing.

Lori Beth held her gaze, then looked at James, then back at Mollyand slowly lowered her eyes.

James rose. "If you'll excuse me, I should probably go help with what- ever's coming next. Either that, or risk Mayor Davenport trying to speak again:"That drew laughter, but only from Charlie. James touched Molly's shoulder. "I'll see you before you leave tonight, Mrs. Whitcomb:"

Feeling his abrupt departure, and judging from Lori Beth's expression that she did too, Molly watched him work his way through the crowd. As always, he couldn't take four steps without someone shaking his hand or speaking to him. Mrs. Spivey approached him again, her lovely niece beside her, and Molly forced herself to turn back around, only too aware of Lori Beth's silent attention-and of her own feelings toward the woman now that she knew the truth.

She told herself she would have treated Lori Beth the very sameboth outside Hank Bolden's store and again here tonight-even if she'd known. But glancing around them now, catching the subtle disapproving stares their table drew, she wasn't so sure. So this is what it would be like if people knew. No ...

What it will be like, when they do.

A sudden streak of color screamed across the dark night sky, followed by thunderous cracks and pops. Sparkling trails of red, white, yellow, blue, and green rained down over the field, and everyone clapped, oohing and ahhing, as more fireworks launched and exploded in marvels of rainbow color.

But all Molly wanted to do was leave.

When the festivities were over, she spotted Dr. Brookston a few tables away. He saw her and pointed toward the wagons, raising a brow. She nodded and indicated she would walk on. Turning, she glimpsed James too, across the field, with Miss Stafford glued to his side.

Head down, she blended in with others walking in the direction of the church and kept to herself, mindful of the animals having been there. A light wind kicked up and she pulled her coat collar closer about her neck.

Then she felt it, something on her cheek. She paused and looked up.

Snow.

Tiny flakes drifted down, swirling and twirling on the wind. One landed on her lip and she licked it off. Her first snowfall in Timber Ridge. And the first in the new state of Colorado.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Whitcomb:" Dr. Brookston ran up behind her, out of breath. "I got stopped by Mrs. Calhoun. God love that woman, but you ask her what time it is and she tells you how the clock was made:'

Molly forced a smile as he helped her into the wagon.

He glanced up. "Looks like winter's here. We get a good deal more snow than Georgia does, so I hope you're ready."

Molly managed polite conversation on the way home.

Later, lying in bed, she finally fell into a fitful sleep only to awaken, thinking of Lori Beth and realizing how brave a woman she was. Far braver than she herself. Molly turned onto her side, unable to get warm. She hadn't taken the time to fill the bed warmer with hot coals and regretted it now.

Somewhere there was a man-perhaps still living in Timber Ridgewho had fathered Lori Beth's baby. He had let her carry the child, give birth to the child, and live with the public disgrace of it all. Just as Jeremy had done with her.

And as if that hadn't been enough, Lori Beth had stood by a tiny grave and buried a part of herself. And that man had allowed her to go through all of it-alone.

She tried to go back to sleep, and couldn't. She checked the clock. It was just after midnight but seemed much later. She needed to use the chamber pot but debated, weighing her need against the chill out from under the covers. Finally discomfort won out.

She crawled from bed and slipped into her robe, the cold wooden planks prickling the soles of her feet. She made use of the chamber pot, then stoked the dying embers in the hearth and added two more logs. Stretching out her arms, she soaked up the warmth from the flames. Then cocked her head to one side, thinking she heard something.

She crossed to the window overlooking the stream behind the cabin and edged back the curtain. Her soft gasp fogged the icy pane. The world was draped in a blanket of white! She hunched closer to the window, careful not to touch the freezing glass. She couldn't believe how bright it was outside, and with a light snow still falling.

There. A jingle. She heard it again.

A knock on the door nearly sent her out of her skin.

Scared motionless at first, she grabbed the fire poker and wielded it where she stood. "Who is it?"

"It's James"

Still shaking, she clutched her makeshift weapon, having half a mind to brain the man with it for scaring her like that. What was he doing out at this time of night anyway? She returned the poker to its place and secured her robe, recalling what she'd promised herself, and more importantly, what she'd promised God, earlier that evening.

Bracing herself for more than just the cold, she pulled the door open and stepped back as snow drifted in. James was covered in it and held a bundle beneath his arm.

"Are you going to invite me in, or would you rather talk out here?"

Smiling, she motioned him inside and shut the door. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

He lowered the scarf from his face, his slightest movement scattering snow everywhere. "It took me a while to get everything together" He pointed to the table. "May I?"

Uncertain, she nodded.

He unwrapped the bundle that turned out to be a blanket stuffed with clothes. Mostly men's clothes from what she could tell, along with a scarf, gloves, thick woolen socks, and boots.

"These are for you. And you've got ten minutes to get dressed:"

She stared. "To get dressed? For what?"

Tugging off his glove, he led her by the hand to the front window and pushed back the curtain. She couldn't see anything at first-frost covered the pane-but he wiped it away. She took a closer look ... and couldn't believe her eyes.

32

ames tucked the blanket around Molly until only her eyes showed beneath the bundle of clothing and scarves and blankets. He wanted her to be warm, and he wanted to be next to her. Especially tonight.

He climbed into the sleigh and she tugged the blanket up over him, then tucked it between them, her eyes smiling. He gave the reins a whip and the horses responded.

Snow drifted down without a hint of wind. The night was absolutely still, perfect, the only sound the muted tamp of horses' hooves and the soft jingle of bells. Two oil lamps adorned the front of the sleigh, but he hadn't bothered lighting them. With the moonlight reflecting off the world of white, the lamps weren't needed.

They reached the end of the path and he turned right, away from town.

She didn't ask where they were going. She just leaned back and stared up into the dark night sky. He would have been hard-pressed to explain it to anyone, but he'd never felt so much like a man as he did when he was with her. He wanted to protect her, provide for her, make her laugh, love her in every way he could. And he liked that she didn't have to fill every moment with words too.

Though she obviously knew quite a few more than he did.

It struck him as funny that a Tennessee boy and a Georgia girl had to come all the way west to Colorado to meet each other. But God's plans weren't necessarily his, he knew. And he'd walked with the Lord long enough to know that he wanted God's plans over anything else. No matter how much he might want what he wanted for himself.

He slowed as they came to a curve. The horses pranced, their steps high and sprite, as though they enjoyed this middle-of-the-night jaunt as much as he did. He'd put extra blankets on both of them and had wrapped their legs to protect from the cold.

He guided the sleigh off the trail and down a gently sloped embankment, having been this way many times before. The fire he'd built earlier still burned low and bright. He pulled the sleigh up as close as he could get without hitting the drifts, then got out and came around to her side.

He tugged the scarf down from over his nose and mouth, and she did likewise. She started to climb out but he stopped her.

"The drifts are pretty deep through here. If you'll allow me?"

She slipped her arms around his neck, and he carried her the short distance to the fire, but he didn't set her down right off, and she noticed. The sideways look she gave him made him wish he'd known her as a young girl. No telling what trouble she'd gotten into. She'd looked beautiful earlier tonight, but now, with her hair all loose around her shoulders, mussed and hand-combed, she took his breath away.

"Thank you;' he whispered.

Her expression turned quizzical. "For what?"

"For following God's lead in coming to Timber Ridge:"

Arms around his neck, she searched his face, unhurried, and he welcomed it.

I do believe God led me here, James. That's one thing I'll never doubt again:'

He sensed something more might follow that thought, but when she didn't offer, he set her down and dusted off the log. "Make yourself at home, madam. I'll be right back:"

Her soft chuckle behind him told him his grandfather had been right. There was something magical about kidnapping your sweetheart-or in this case, his "would-be" sweetheart-and taking her out during the first snowfall of winter. James only hoped it would turn out as well for him as it had for Ian Fletcher McGuiggan.

He retrieved the satchel from the sleigh, remembering Rachel's enthusiasm as he'd packed it earlier. She'd insisted on helping and had shared with him about the last time Thomas had done this for her. Aware of Molly watching him as he walked back, he set the satchel down and added more wood to the fire, then settled on the log beside her.

She laid a gloved hand on his arm. "I don't know what else you have planned for tonight, but it could be nothing else at all, and this would still be the best surprise I've ever had:'

"Well, then.. " He acted as if he was going to stand. "I might as well take this satchel on back to the-"

She grabbed his arm. "Don't you dare!"

Enjoying their ease with each other, especially considering their tension from earlier this evening, he thanked God again for bringing this woman into his life. He'd often wondered if the Almighty intended for him to go through this life alone, and that prospect, while lonely feeling at times, had never been a strong source of contention for him-until now. How could the mere thought of someone's absence from your life stir up such longing?

He tugged off his gloves and untied the satchel's leather straps. "This;' he said, producing a canteen and two cups, "is my grandmother's cocoa:" He poured and started to take a sip, but she touched his wrist.

`Aren't you forgetting something?" She raised her cup.

"Oh, you're right. It's not sugar sticks, but it'll have to do:" He raised his cup to hers. "To friendships that grow, and deepen"-dare he add this last line-"and that last a lifetime:"