Love in the Balance (37 page)

30

The trees lining the streets disappeared as the road wound over the prairie. Molly would be as red as a sausage before she reached Lockhart. The waving grass offered no protection from the sun. Her lawn dress was wilting as quickly as her coiffure. Molly walked faster. If she was blistered and freckled, it’d be Bailey’s fault. Another misdeed to harangue him over.

From behind, a horse approached her at a fair clip. Disappointed it wasn’t a buggy, Molly swerved into the right wagon rut to make room, but the rider didn’t pass.

“Where are you headed?”

Molly turned. It was Anne, with a wide-brimmed hat casting shadows over her fair complexion and curly hair.

“To Lockhart, actually.” Molly’s steps didn’t slow. “And you?”

“The same. I got word there’s a buyer for the farm. That notice in the paper did the trick.”

“Congratulations.” She’d be happy for her friend later. She didn’t want to lessen her fury until Bailey had borne the brunt of it.

“You wanna ride?”

Molly pulled her skirt out of the cockleburs. Which was worse—riding into town on a horse behind Anne Tillerton or arriving beet red and bedraggled?

“Thank you.”

Molly could barely climb on, even with Anne’s help. She sat astraddle and wrapped her arms around the smaller woman.

“Hang on.” How Anne managed to hold on to the reins with Molly’s weight sliding from side to side, Molly couldn’t guess. The girl must have arms of rawhide, but at least she wasn’t talkative.

“Take me to the jailhouse, please,” Molly said. “I have unfinished business with Sheriff Colton.”

“Don’t we all,” Anne said.

The jailbirds called out to them through the bars as they approached the prison, adding to Molly’s general sense of displeasure. She straightened her legs and then groaned when she realized her skirts only reached her knees.

“Men,” she said. “Those fellows better hope they never let women serve on juries, or I’ll hang them all.”

Anne braced herself as Molly slipped off the side of the horse, and then adjusted her errant clothing.

“Miss Lovelace, I wondered what the commotion was.” Sheriff Colton stood in the lone unbarred doorway in the building.

Anne wrinkled her nose at him before riding away.

“I came to inquire about the money you recovered.” Molly caught the eye of Russell James before he stepped into the shadows of his cell. To think, all those years working faithfully for her father and he’d be remembered for his thievery—all on account of his son.

No fear of Thomas Lovelace endangering himself on his children’s behalf.

“It’s been collected. Bailey was here earlier.”

“You gave him all of it?” Molly placed her hand against her forehead to shield her eyes.

“Sure did. He had a letter from your father.” The sheriff stepped into the blinding sunlight. “That was a letter from your pa, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” You could torture her with a hair iron and she wouldn’t air her suspicions before the interested, incarcerated audience. “Thank you for your time.”

Molly lifted her lawn skirt and trotted across the street, unwilling to satisfy the curiosity that’d appeared on Sheriff Colton’s face. She hoped she could return and visit Russell James later, but right now she was on the trail of a true scoundrel. Would Bailey have gone to his uncle and aunt’s house? Molly stepped into the shade afforded by an awning at the bank. He wouldn’t run away with all the money. She trusted him to bring her father’s share back, but what about hers? Did he really believe he deserved the reward for bringing the books to her?

The door to the bank opened behind her.

“I thought I recognized you.” Prue stepped out in a rose-colored dress of the same simple cut she’d always favored, but with more color and finer fabric. Before Molly could pinpoint how the changes had worked such a transformation in her appearance, Prue had thrown her arms around her, making further inspection impossible.

Who would’ve thought Prue would want to be seen with her? Of course, Prue’s primary flaw had always been indiscriminating grace.

“I guess this is your bank now?” Molly asked.

Prue’s serene smile brought refreshment to the heat. “I help Mr. Fenton when his mother doesn’t require my attendance for callers, but I’d be happy to retire. Staying home to raise a family will be my first priority.”

At least there was one tragedy Molly had avoided. No matter how fine Prue’s dress and the house on San Antonio Street, Fenton could have never made Molly happy.

“I didn’t expect you so soon,” Prue continued, “but I suppose he told you about our offer. There’s no reason for you to go all the way to Austin to find work. We’d be honored if you’d work here at the bank. I know you’ve got a talent for bookkeeping, and Mr. Fenton has long admired your charming manners with customers.”

If the words were coming out of Carrie’s mouth, Molly would’ve known they were meant to hurt, but Prue had no ulterior motive.

“Work for you? Here at the bank?” Molly took in the impressive brick structure with a real second story behind the front. So Reverend Stoker had found her a job closer to home? “And Mr. Fenton doesn’t mind?”

“He knows you’ll work hard and be an asset to the company. Why don’t you come in? He’ll tell you.”

Molly lifted her chin. Could she live this close to her parents and Bailey and keep her sanity? Did she have any other offers? Nick’s answer hadn’t come yet.

“I will,” Molly said. “As a matter of fact, I have an account that I need to inquire after. I understand a settlement was deposited in my name.” She crossed her fingers in the folds of her gown.
Please, God, let it be at Prue’s bank.

Prue’s knit her brows. “Yes, it’s here. Justice should have cost him more, but it’s a large sum nonetheless.”

By the time Molly got a look at the number in her account she could almost reconcile herself to taking employment there. The bank was stately, the bookkeepers clean and efficient, but she wasn’t ready to think that far ahead. A black-hearted con man needed to be dealt with first.

“Are you going to meet Bailey now?”

“What?” How did everyone know her business better than she did? “Have you talked to him?”

Prue’s mouth crinkled in a whimsical grin. “Yes, of course. He’s looking to lease a little house over by Father’s smithy.”

Molly’s lips tightened. “So he thinks he can take the reward money and leave Father shorthanded? Not on my watch.”

Molly spun on her heel and stomped toward the barred door, ignoring Prue’s sputtered protests. That man was as worthless as a breeding pair of mules. Hadn’t she told him she was moving to town? True, she’d thought she was going to Austin, but her biggest reason to relocate was to avoid falling for him again. Now here he was making his own arrangements. Lockhart wasn’t big enough for the both of them. That fact had already been proven.

Her temper grew hotter with every step under the blistering sun. She strode past Mrs. Truman’s boardinghouse before she had time to worry about crossing paths with Carrie. She skirted around the clanging hammers of the blacksmith’s shop, unwilling to run into Mr. McGraw and Prue’s easily amused brother. Before she’d realized it, Molly found herself on the porch of the little white house they’d perused long ago.

She wasn’t surprised that the door was open and a familiar voice echoed through the empty building.

“I have the money, don’t worry about that, but I’m not sure about the terms. Can you give me a week to think it over?”

Molly had reached the kitchen before her eyes adjusted to the shade.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Molly?” He couldn’t have looked more shocked if he’d been struck by lightning. “How did you get here?”

“Did you think I was going to sit by and let you run off with my money? Let you take credit for discovering the theft and leave me behind?”

A throat clearing from the corner of the kitchen startled her. Molly turned to see a scowling man.

“Mr. Garner, I’ll let you think over my offer. No hurry. Just get back to me.”

“He’s not getting back to you. He doesn’t have any money.” Her hands were on her hips as she did her best to block the doorway. “Tell him, Bailey. Tell him you’re broke.”

“I’ll tell him no such thing.” He didn’t look the least bit ashamed. “Get out of his way.”

“Not until you set this right. You have my money, and this man is my witness that you refuse to give it back.”

The man held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t witness anything. I’m not taking sides.”

“Sorry about this, Matthews. I’ll let you know what I decide,” Bailey said as the man angled past Molly. Bailey didn’t even act sympathetic when Matthews bumped into her. “Now, what’s this about?”

“You told Father that
you
found the discrepancies in the ledger,” she said.

“I told him you did, but he didn’t believe me.”

“That doesn’t justify what you’ve done.”

“What? Missed a day of work? I think I have a good excuse.”

“How do you have the nerve to act so smug? You know I’m talking about the reward—money that should’ve gone to me,” she said.

“It should’ve gone to you, but your father wasn’t going to give it to you. He offered it to me instead.”

“How convenient.”

“Not really. I’ve spent all day trying to get that money for you and set you up. I didn’t expect such a strong show of gratitude.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Because you haven’t asked.”

The only sound in the room was their gasps for air and Molly’s whalebones creaking as she tried to catch her breath. Bailey was having the same difficulty.

“I—”

“You—”

They stopped.

“Ladies first,” Bailey said.

“If you didn’t plan to keep my money, why are you moving to Lockhart?”

“
I’m
not moving.
I’m
the manager of the mill—replacing Russell James, remember?”

Molly gestured to the house around her and then raised her shoulders.

“I’m trying to help a good friend of mine, who told me that she couldn’t live in Prairie Lea anymore. She wanted to move.” His voice dropped to a more reasonable volume. “But I don’t want her to go all the way to Austin.”

“Oh.” Molly tried to swallow, but the sunburn had traveled from her face and neck to her throat. “But you shouldn’t spend my money without my permission.”

“I wouldn’t touch your money. I’ve saved enough of my wages to get you started, and I talked to Prue about your working at the bank.”

“
You
talked to Prue? I thought it was Reverend Stoker.”

“No. I got you a job, a place to live, and money from your pa that you earned fair and square. And I wasn’t going to sign anything with Matthews until you’d looked over the contract. I figured you could probably negotiate a better deal, although after he witnessed that childish display, I’m not so sure.”

Molly tapped her foot. “You came here for me? That’s what you’ve been doing?”

Putting his hands on the countertop, Bailey hopped up on the counter and leaned against the pump handle. “Yes, ma’am.”

She shouldn’t be surprised. He’d procured the parsonage for her. He’d done everything he could to help her, as long as it didn’t sully his reputation.

A cocklebur scratched at her ankle. She bent, caught the hem of her dress, and tried to make sense of his actions. “Keep your wages. It wouldn’t look right for you to spend your money on me.”

“I don’t care. There shouldn’t be a conflict between doing the right thing and looking good.” He must’ve watched her for a moment, for he was quiet. Then he added, “If you’re determined to move, I’ll support your decision. If you decide to go home to your parents, I’ll carry your trunk to the front porch. I’ll do anything for you, even if you don’t return my regard.”

“What do you mean by that?” Molly ripped out the cocklebur with vigor, stabbing her finger in the process. She threw down her hem. “You can’t say I don’t have feelings for you. Haven’t you noticed all I’ve done? I could’ve told everyone what a hypocrite you were, but I didn’t. I could’ve told Father about your testimony on the witness stand and had you fired, but I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you? I had it coming.”

“Because I
do
love you, you dunce. Maybe Michael James had a gun pointed at me and forced me to say it, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the truth, so don’t sit there all righteous like you’ve suffered alone. I’ve done my share. I asked your mother to teach me how to cook your favorite dishes. I even burned my finger.” She held up her hand and pointed at the damaged digit. “And she laughed.”

Bailey hopped off the countertop. “I worked for your stinking pa so I could marry you. I kept the job just to see you once in a while. If that’s not suffering—”

“I wanted nothing more than to be your wife, but I stayed away so you’d have a chance at some nice girl.”

“But I don’t want a nice girl. I want you. Staying away had to be easier on you than it was on me. Else you would’ve given in. You don’t have the patience.”

“I guarantee I’ve got the patience. You wait and see. Reverend Stoker told me it’d be better if I left, and I’ll do it because I want what’s best for you. If I come home to visit, I’ll barely speak to you. That’ll show you how much I love you.”

Bailey’s face creased in confusion. “Reverend Stoker said that to you? When?”

“Thursday after you picked up the ledger.”

“
Hmm
 . . . before he talked to me.” He stretched a suspender away from his chest and let it snap while he studied her. “You’re sunburned.”

“Yes, well, I was in a hurry and forgot my hat.”

“In a hurry to find me?”

“I’m hungry, too. Give me my money so I can buy something to eat,” she said.

“I might keep it.”

“That’s what I thought, you swindler.”

“I’m keeping it until you answer a question for me.” A grin teased at the side of his mouth. “If you weren’t trying to out-love me, what would you do?”

“You mean if I was going to be selfish?”

“If you can imagine such a scenario.”

Molly lifted her chin in the air. “If I was going to be completely selfish, I’d get decked out, fix up my hair, and go after you like a bear after honey. Every corner you turned, I’d be there waiting. I wouldn’t care how much people disapproved or how much they pitied you for getting tangled up with me. I’d count myself lucky and ignore everyone else.”