“I didn’t take his name in vain,” Karleen insisted. “I said he knows how hard we do work around here.” Sighing, she rested both hands on Molly’s shoulders. “You never used to be like this. Even just a few months ago you’d have been happy to have the extra help. Carter’s a wonderful salesman. He’s even sold two pairs of those shoes that peddler unloaded on us. That alone should have you dancing. What’s happened to you, Molly? Even Ivy is afraid you’re going to snap her head off like a bean stem for the tiniest mistake.”
Molly shrugged out from beneath her sister’s hold. She couldn’t handle anyone touching her, but more because the truth hurt. “Because I grew up. And it’s time you did, too.”
“I have grown up, Molly. I may not be as old as you, but I haven’t been a child for a long time. Not since the day Mother and Father died. It wasn’t my fault, Molly. It wasn’t my fault they died and we had to learn to run this place.”
“I never said it was,” she insisted.
“You act like it is.”
“I do not,” Molly retorted. “Now, hush up, the customers might hear you.” For good measure Molly waved a finger at her sister. “And don’t be snippy with me.”
“Snippy? Me?” Karleen all but snarled. “You’re the snippy one. Ask any of the customers, they’ll tell you. You act like everything is someone else’s fault, including why Robbie Fredrickson wouldn’t marry you.”
The last bit of starch left her knees—the small amount she’d held on to all this time—but other places, Molly was still seething. “I didn’t want to marry him.”
“Because no man wants to marry a woman with two younger sisters to take care of.”
Her hands squeezed the chair harder. “I didn’t say that,” Molly corrected.
“Well, Robbie did,” Karleen said. “I may only be sixteen, Molly, but I know some things, including that if a man really loves a woman, he doesn’t care how many sisters she has.”
Karleen was right, she herself had told Robbie those exact words, but her sister didn’t know everything. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just a child.”
“I know more than you think.” Karleen leaned across the table. “I know Robbie only courted you to get this store for the railroad.”
“We didn’t court,” Molly seethed. “And I know exactly what Robbie wanted.” She did know, and she’d known it five months ago, but she’d wanted things to be different. Not just for her but for her sisters.
“Then get over it,” Karleen snapped.
Molly bit her tongue, refused to answer. She was over it all right, but Robbie was not the problem. The result of that night was. It had seemed no matter how hard she worked, there was no hope of things changing. She’d hated everything about her life that day and wanted out.
Karleen and Ivy had gone to Ralph and Emma Walters’s wedding party at the hotel. The whole town had been there, and she’d planned on going too, except the freight had arrived ten minutes before it was time to leave. It couldn’t be left out for anyone walking by to pilfer, so she’d stayed home, carrying box after box inside until it was good and dark. It had rained, too, exacerbating her sense of misery, and had made her recall how fast everything had changed. How that violent spring storm had hit two years prior, causing the James River to flood its banks, washing away buildings and stealing the lives of people so quickly the entire town was in shock for months afterward.
Safe, here at home, she and Karleen and Ivy hadn’t known what had happened to their parents until the preacher arrived and explained how the bridge had collapsed beneath their wagon.
“Molly?”
Things had changed that fast again five months ago. Molly pushed Karleen away and stumbled for the door, needing much more than fresh air.
“Molly, I’m sorry,” Karleen shouted, but Molly kept moving.
If she stopped, she might collapse.
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