“Sadie is saddled and waiting for you outside.”
Molly shut the Bible and kissed each girl on the head. The twins immediately protested her departure. After another round of hugs, and more promises to return before first light, Molly joined him at the door.
They walked outside in silence.
As he helped her into the saddle, CJ felt it again, that powerful wish for something...more. It was the same sensation from this morning. Once again, he pushed it away. Ignored it. Denied it. The process proved far less successful this evening.
Clearing his throat, he rolled his shoulders, shifted his stance. He couldn’t seem to find his balance. His mind filled with all the tasks that lay ahead. He would have to move a few things into the main house tonight. Then he’d have to get the girls settled in bed. And—
“Relax, CJ.” Molly leaned over and touched his arm. Everything in him calmed. “You aren’t in this alone. I’ll continue watching the girls for as long as you need me.”
She’d said nearly the same words this morning. He had no reason to doubt her sincerity, but such a promise wasn’t realistic.
Ever since Penelope died, CJ had focused on ranching, while letting Ned find his own way through his grief. In the span of a single day, CJ’s entire life had changed. His priorities had shifted dramatically. He must move into the future with only frank honesty between him and Molly. “One day, whether Ned returns or not, you will leave us.”
She was shaking her head before he finished speaking.
He pressed on. “One day,” he said with emphasis, to make his point clear, “you’ll marry again, and that’ll be—”
“I’ll never marry again.”
CJ pulled back in surprise. He couldn’t remember a time when Molly had looked this fierce, this determined or this sad.
It was the sadness that led him to say, “You’re still in love with your husband.”
Surely that explained her refusal to wed another man. There was tremendous honor in that kind of devotion, CJ decided, even as he felt something unpleasant twist in his gut.
“A part of me will always love George.” Sorrow came and went in her eyes. “But that’s not the reason I won’t ever—”
She cut off her own words, glanced frantically around, then drew in a sharp breath and started again. “It’s getting late. I better head home.”
Her voice was even as she spoke, but the pain in her eyes made CJ regret bringing up her husband. At a loss for words, he reached for the horse’s reins and handed them to her. “Good night, Molly.”
“Good night, CJ.”
Neither made a move to leave. They didn’t smile, didn’t speak. They simply stared into each other’s eyes. And then they stared some more. One moment stretched into two.
At last, Molly lowered her eyelashes and the awkward interaction was over. She gave the mare a gentle kick in the ribs and set out toward her family’s ranch.
Once Duke moved in behind her, CJ closed his eyes and considered all that had happened in the span of a day. He predicted a long, sleepless night ahead, the reason as much because of the woman riding toward the painted horizon as his brother’s shocking departure.
The next two days passed by in a blur for Molly. Ned had not returned. In an attempt to distract the twins from missing their father, she’d kept them busy and on a relatively tight schedule. Her efforts proved successful, mostly. Apart from a few tears and a lot of questions, Anna and Sarah seemed to be taking their new situation in stride.
That said a lot about CJ and his determination to step into Ned’s shoes.
Of course, it was early days yet. It was clear CJ wasn’t settling into his new role as a father smoothly. Every morning, when Molly arrived at the Triple-T ranch, he would be waiting for her at the door, looking both harried and vastly relieved to see her.
His discomfort was to be expected. He was completely out of his element with the girls. However, like any Texas cowboy worthy of the name, he was tackling the challenge head-on. Oh, he was still tentative around the twins and they weren’t exactly comfortable around him, either. Which begged the question, why had he given Molly the day off?
With an impatient shove, she secured the final pin in her hair and stepped away from the mirror. Dressed and ready for Sunday service, she moved to the window and stared out across the front yard of her family’s ranch. The sun had already risen, splashing golden fingers of light across the pink-tinted sky.
She should be atop Sadie’s back by now, heading over to the Triple-T to help CJ with the girls. He’d insisted she spend the Sabbath with her own family. No amount of arguing had swayed him. He was one stubborn, thoughtful, kind man.
Sighing, she placed her palm against the warm glass. She wished CJ would talk to her about Ned. Molly knew he suffered. She often caught the secret pain in his eyes, when he didn’t know she was looking. He clearly blamed himself.
Even without saying the words aloud, they both knew Ned’s leaving could very well be permanent. Awarding CJ custody of the twins made his intentions clear. Molly had no idea if a hand-scribbled note was the same as a legal document. But Ned’s actions had a feeling of finality to them.
It had been only three days, she told herself. There was still reason to hope. No matter how sad he appeared on the outside, Ned always pulled himself together enough to attend Sunday worship with his daughters. Maybe he would return today.
Ned had his faults, but even at the worst of times he’d been a committed churchgoer. Molly hated thinking any man, especially a believing Christian, could abandon his own children, but if Ned stayed gone...
Lord, please bring him home this morning.
Molly pushed away from the window and nudged her sister’s shoulder.
A muffled groan was Daisy’s only response.
Shaking her head, Molly poked the girl’s shoulder with a bit more force.
She received yet another feminine groan, followed by a muffled, “Go away.”
“Mama won’t hold breakfast for you,” she warned.
More mumbling.
“Fine. You’re on your own.” Mildly frustrated, yet still loving her sister dearly, Molly left the room with a little more noise than necessary.
The rest of her family was already seated around the breakfast table. Molly’s three younger brothers alternated between passing platters of food and shoveling impressively large bites into their mouths. Boys.
It amazed her how much her brothers had grown in the years she’d been married to George. All three were good-looking and had the Carson blond hair. The younger two, Donny and Roy, had their father’s hazel eyes, while Thomas’s were deep brown.
Smiling fondly at each of them, Molly took her seat beside Roy. At twelve, he was inquisitive and seemed to be always taking things apart. Donny was the talker. Thomas was the calmest and most logical of the three. At fourteen, he was also the most mature.
As they did nearly every Sunday morning, Roy and Donny debated which one of them would ride old Walker into town and which would have to sit in the bed of the wagon.
“It’s my turn.” Donny’s voice held more whine than reason.
Roy begged to differ, loudly, and with equal amounts of whining. The heated discussion continued another fifteen seconds before their father put an end to it.
“Thomas is the oldest,” he said. “He’ll ride Walker. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”
He