Reckless Heart (22 page)

“What’s the occasion?” Josh asked.

Molly’s eyes flew to his. She tried to smile. “I went to town to do the shopping, thought it might be nice to have pizza again,” she said.

Pulling out her chair between Lance and Jack, she sat down quickly, avoiding Josh’s pointed glance at the chair to his right.

“So you liked the flowers?” Lance asked after the first pangs of hunger had been satisfied.

“They're wonderful. I feel so special.”

“Remember the feeling so you can write it in your book,” Josh said coolly.

Billy looked up. “Are you writing everything about the ranch down in that book? Am I in your book?”

“Sure, you’re the bad guy,” Jack said without missing a beat.

“No, I’m not writing about the ranch. But sometimes I have trouble getting emotion into the book.”

She remembered Josh’s kisses, his insistence she write down what she felt. She knew he remembered as well. Why was he bringing that up now? To forge a bond between them? Ha! In her dreams.

At least the others didn’t know. And wouldn’t. After tonight, she’d be long gone. Time enough then to see if she could capture her emotions on paper. She’d have heartache and sadness to add to the delights and pleasure of remembered kisses. A well-rounded fount to draw from, she thought sadly.

She turned back to tease Billy about including him in her book but her heart wasn’t in it and she counted the minutes until she could be alone.

Molly folded all the clean clothes, towels and bedding. She still had to make up Josh’s bed. Hurrying up the stairs, she quickly put everything away and turned to make the bed just as Josh walked in.

“Oh, sorry. I thought I’d have this done already.” She pulled the sheet taut.

“I heard you up here and didn’t know what you were doing. I can help.” He crossed to the other side of the big bed and reached for the sheet. In only moments the bed was made.

Molly had to get away. The lure of the big bed, of the sexy cowboy standing only a few feet away, tugged at her. She wanted him to cross the distance, sweep her up into his arms and kiss her like she remembered. Holding her breath for a long moment, she slowly released it. He hadn’t moved.

“I put your clean clothes in your drawers or in the closets,” she murmured as she edged toward the door.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Molly—”

“Good night.” She almost ran down the hall to her room.

Once safely behind the closed door, she wished she hadn’t left. It was her last night. She wished they could have spent it together—sitting on the porch or sharing a cup of coffee in the office. Wished she could have enjoyed the tentative friendship that had passed between them at one time. For a few more hours.

Shaking her head, she pulled the suitcases from beneath her bed.

Molly watched each man as he ate breakfast. She’d miss them. She'd become fond of them all, from Lance with his kindness, to Billy’s flirtatious ways, to Jack’s calm way of explaining things to her, to Trevor’s always asking for seconds.

She refused to look at Josh. There was no need. She had all the memories of him she could handle.

When the men left, she smiled and wished them a good day, knowing she’d be gone by the time they returned to the house for dinner.

Taking her time, she prepared lunch to leave for them. Then went to get her laptop. Knowing if anyone saw her they’d immediately suspect something was wrong, she moved her car to the front of the house, out of sight of the corrals, the barn and the curious eyes of the men still on the homestead. She carried down her suitcase, and the lunch she'd made for herself. Finally everything was packed, she was ready to go.

One last walk through the old house to make sure it was in apple pie order and Molly was ready to leave.

She called the agency.

Mrs. Montgomery told her she still didn’t have another position for her, but one applicant looked promising for the position at the Rafter C.

Satisfied Josh and his men would be looked after soon, Molly climbed into her car and headed down the long blacktop driveway.

She left her father’s address on Josh’s desk in the letter she'd written him to tell him she was leaving—just in case any mail arrived for her. Once she reached home she'd drop the publisher a note, giving her new address so if they needed to get in touch with her they wouldn’t trouble Josh.

Approaching the highway, Molly noticed the mail truck pulling away from the large mailbox by the gate. She stopped and got out. She’d just check one last time for any personal mail, then head for Houston.

The thick manila envelope gave her the first clue. It was addressed to her. Slowly she pulled it out and ripped the end off, pulling out the stack of papers.

Her manuscript. She was surprised by the publisher’s extremely quick response. The letter fluttered to the ground. She picked it up, scanned it quickly, her heart in her throat.

Slow tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheeks. On top of everything else, the rejection was too much. She sank down beside her car, crying at the loss of so much at once, from her bright future as a novelist to the deep heartache from walking away from the man she loved.

Molly wiped her cheeks, rubbed the ache in her chest. She felt like a sad soggy mess. Beneath her the ground trembled, she felt the vibrations and wondered why. Then she caught the movement from the corner of her eye. A rider, coming hard and furiously across the open pasture. Headed straight for the fence.

Slowly she pushed herself upright and wiped her face again with the back of her hand, holding her manuscript pages and letter against her breasts.

Josh drew his sorrel gelding to a halt on the other side of the barbed-wire fence. He dismounted, his eyes on Molly. Dropping the reins, he took hold of the wooden fence post and vaulted over the five strands of barbed wire. Never taking his eyes from her, he walked across the blacktop, his spurs ringing. The hot sun blazed down on them and Molly blinked her lids to clear as much of the tears as she could before—

“What are you doing?” he asked as he drew closer. Taking in the packet of papers clenched to her chest and the tears in her eyes, he reached out for her, understanding instant.

“Aw, honey, didn’t they want your book?”

His sympathy was more than she could bear. She burst into fresh tears, shook her head and stepped into his welcoming embrace.

Josh drew her up tightly, his voice murmuring soothingly into her ear. Molly leaned against him, drawing from his strength. Beneath her cheek she felt the beating of his heart. And for one last moment she felt safe, cherished.

And so lonely she thought she would die.

Taking a shaky breath, she breathed in dust and horse and tangy male scent. She wished she could bottle it to take with her. She wished she could bottle Josh to take with her. Biting her lip, she tried to stop the tears. Time enough later to give way. She had a long drive ahead of her.

“I’m all right,” she said, pushing away, wiping her cheeks.

His hands cupped her face and his thumbs brushed away the trail of tears. Her eyelashes were spiky, her face had to be blotchy from crying. Great, what a wonderful last impression to leave. She sniffed, wishing she could have left before he found her.

“What did the letter say?” Josh asked gently, his eyes shaded by his hat, his mouth held tautly.

She held it out. “You can read it if you wish. It said it wasn’t suitable to their list. That I need more practice before coming up to their standards.”

He scanned the single sheet, then handed it back. “Maybe you could try another publishing house.”

She nodded. That would give her something to do when she reached her father’s. She tried a smile. “I’ll be all right. It was just the disappointment on top of everything else.”

Oops. Shifting uneasily, she looked beyond Josh to his horse. The animal stood relaxed in the hot sun, one hind leg resting on his toe as he patiently awaited his rider. Ground hitched, he wasn’t going anywhere until Josh remounted.

She fidgeted beneath his direct gaze.

“I came for the mail,” Molly said, wondering how long Josh planned to cup her face, how long she could resist throwing herself into his arms and begging for another kiss. Just one more before she left.

“That’s all that came today, your manuscript?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing gently across the soft skin of her cheeks.

“Um, no I think there were a couple of other pieces.” She tried to think up an excuse for not picking them up.

Josh released her and walked to the mailbox, pulling down the front and reaching inside for the letters, circulars and bills that rested inside. He withdrew the stack and glanced at each piece. Stacking them together, he walked back to Molly and held out the mail.

She stared at it like she’d never seen mail before and certainly didn’t want to touch it.

“You can run it up to the house,” he said.

She made no effort to take the stack. Her mind went blank and the only thing left to focus on was the steady pounding of her heart, the heated blood rushing through her veins.

Josh watched her, obviously puzzled. Then he glanced beyond her to her car. “Molly?”

“What?” She met his gaze.

“Are you going to take the mail up to the house?”

Slowly she shook her head.

He lowered his hand. “Why not?”

“I’m not going up to the house.”

With a frown, he stepped around her and walked over to her car. In two seconds he saw the computer sitting in the backseat.

“Is your computer broken?” he asked evenly, still staring into the car.

“No.”

She looked out at the highway. If she hadn't stopped for one last check of mail, if she hadn't opened the envelope, if she hadn't had a fit of crying, she'd be almost to town by now and Josh would have been none the wiser until he went to the office.

“Molly, what’s going on?”

“I’m leaving,” she said.

She’d die if he tossed his hat in the air and shouted hallelujah.

There was only silence. A car appeared on the far horizon. Molly watched as it drew near, sped past. Slowly she turned to watch it until it disappeared. Josh hadn't said a word.

Finally, curious, she turned around to look at him.

He stared at her, his expression blank. Molly took a deep breath and with a calmness that belied the roiling emotions that churned deep inside, she walked to her car. He stood by the door. He would have to move before she could get in.

“Why?” Josh asked.

“Surely that’s obvious. I can’t stay, you’ve already asked for a replacement. I talked to Mrs. Montgomery this morning, she’s found someone. I bought plenty of food yesterday, so meals won’t be a problem until the new housekeeper arrives. And all your clothes are clean, and the house—”

“You’ve been planning this for a while,” he said.

She expected more of a reaction from him. She nodded. She couldn’t bear to be so near him, loving him so much, and knowing she had to leave. Couldn’t he just mount up and ride away?

“Where are you going, did you get a new job?”

“Not yet. I’m going back to my father’s. We mended some fences, as I told you, and I think we might be able to get along now. At least, I’m willing to give it a try for a couple of weeks.”

For that she would always owe Josh. Yet she could never tell him why. “Anyway, I’m sure your next housekeeper will be perfect. She’ll probably always have plenty of food, have the meals ready on time and never forget to dry your clothes.”

“Probably won’t dye them green, either,” he murmured.

Heat flushed through her cheeks. “Oh, I hoped you hadn’t notice.”

He gave a halfhearted grin. “How could I not notice green underwear?”

“It was a light green.”

“But definitely green.”

“I’m sorry. I—”

“You were probably daydreaming and put something green in with the whites,” he guessed.

She nodded. “Maybe your next housekeeper can bleach them out.”

The silence stretched out. Molly felt as if she was dying by inches. Finally she pasted a bright smile on her face and gestured toward her door.

“I’ve got to go, Josh. It’s a long drive to Houston and I want to get there before dark.”

“Sure.”

He opened the door for her, watched as she settled in, put the manuscript beside her on the seat. He saw the bouquet the men had sent her propped carefully on the floor in front of the passenger seat. When she was in, he closed the door.

Rolling down the window, Molly smiled again, her eyes unable to meet his. She thought her cheeks would crack. Why didn’t he go back to his horse, back to his ranch and let her leave in peace?

Josh swept off his hat and leaned over until he could see through the open window. “Drive safely, Molly,” he said. Then he leaned in and kissed her. A short, sweet kiss. Raising back a few inches, he studied her feature by feature, as if committing every inch of her face to memory.