Molly stared at Josh’s sister. If she had any pride, she’d probably do that. But she couldn’t. If she could stay for a few more days, that would offer a little longer in his presence. She just couldn’t leave yet.
“Actually, I don’t have anything else lined up, so this is a job until I find something.”
“And if he gets a replacement first?”
“I’ll have to worry about that when the time comes.”
Jake wandered in just then and Molly gratefully greeted him, hoping to change the subject.
Molly served up breakfast when the cowboys came in. Placing Brianna beside her brother with Jake on her left, Molly made room for herself between Lance and Jack. She was the most comfortable with these two men and liked being some distance from Josh.
Not that she could escape his angry glare every time she spoke with Lance. When he saw her laughing at something Lance said, his eyes frosted and he didn’t take them from her until she rose to replenish the coffee cups.
Brianna invited Molly to join them that morning, but Molly declined. Much as she longed to go with them. The ride yesterday had been a mistake. She needed to start building a distance between herself and Josh. Somehow she had to find the strength to walk away soon.
The day passed slowly. Molly cleaned as much as she needed, then sat down to her computer. But the words didn’t come. She gazed out the window for hours, thinking about every minute of her time on the Rafter C. And every second spent with Josh.
She knew she should incorporate aspects in her book, but she wasn’t capable of revealing her feelings in mere words.
Frustrated, she wondered if writing was for her. Maybe she was fooling herself that she had a chance to get a book published, more than one book published. How many people made a career in writing? Very few.
When the phone rang, Molly answered. She recognized the woman’s voice instantly. Gillian.
“Josh’s out right now.”
“Have him give me a call, he knows the number,” Gillian responded gaily.
“I’m sure he does,” Molly muttered darkly as she replaced the receiver. “And he probably won’t waste a second in returning your call once he gets the message.”
Would he take Gillian out again? Or worse, invite her over? Molly set her jaw. If he did, she’d make other plans. There was no way she’d hang around to see him with another woman.
Josh didn’t come in for lunch. Only half the ranch crew were near the house so Molly didn’t have as much to do as normal. She relished the break, joking with the men that had come in, enjoying their banter.
Lance stopped before he left after lunch. “Everything okay with you?” he asked.
Molly smiled. “Sure. Why not?”
He shrugged, his eyes studying her. “I don’t know. Something’s different. You didn’t appear to be all there at lunch.”
Molly avoided his gaze. “Most of me was there. I’m trying to figure out the next scene in my book,” she replied vaguely. She wouldn't admit to the disturbing thoughts of Josh and Gillian.
“Want to go into town Friday night? We can go to The Last Roundup, dance a little.”
Molly considered it. She had had fun last time, met friendly neighbors. She slowly shook her head.
“Thanks, Lance. Not this week. Maybe another time?” She was not staying, no need to make friends only to say goodbye in a couple of weeks.
“Sure thing. See you later.” Lance raked his fingers through his hair and set his hat on firmly. His boots rang on the wooden floor as he crossed to leave.
For a moment Molly almost called him back. She remembered how annoyed Josh had been when she and Lance had gone out the last time. Even though Josh had gone out the same night with Gillian.
Would another evening spent with Lance evoke a similar response? Or would Josh shrug his shoulders this time and ignore her? She wished she could evoke some response in him.
She didn’t know what she wanted she thought as she sat again before her computer. She should be concentrating on her future instead of mooning over some cowboy who didn’t want her. But it was hard to concentrate on being creative when every fiber of her being longed to be with Josh Hart. She wanted to watch him work at his desk, watch him interact with his men, watch him ride his big horse. She just plain wanted to be with him.
Laboriously she began to type.
“Where the hell is dinner?” Josh roared sometime later.
Molly spun around, staring at him in surprise. He stood in the doorway, fists on his hips, frowning at her. He looked hot, dusty and tired. His hat pulled low, his angry stance looked meaner than a sidewinder. Molly glanced at the clock.
“Ohmygracious.” She sprang up and crossed the room. It was almost seven and she hadn’t even started dinner.
Josh didn’t budge. She stopped inches from him, feeling the anger radiating from him, pouring over her like a wave.
“I forgot,” she said in a small voice.
“You forgot dinner?” His low voice held a note of incredulity.
“I... uh...guess I got caught up in the story and the time just flew by.”
Molly shivered at the hard glint in his eyes. Steely with contempt, he stared down at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes or ears.
“You have twenty hungry people to feed in less than ten minutes and you forgot to fix the meal?”
“I’ll make something.”
Her mind went blank. What could she fix in ten minutes that would satisfy everyone? She had planned to thaw some meat and forgotten. There was little choice in the pantry because it was almost time to go shopping again.
“What?” he snapped.
“I don’t know, but I’ll come up with something.”
“Omelets again?”
“Maybe!” He goaded her and she didn’t need that. She was in the wrong, but she had to go start something for dinner, not stay here and be berated. The longer they argued, the later it would be before she could get started on the meal.
Josh’s hands reached out and caught her shoulders.
“I pay you to cook and clean, not sit in front of your computer all day and waste time writing when you should be taking care of this house.”
“I know. I can make omelets in less than ten minutes. Make up a batch of biscuits quickly. But I need to get going.”
Placing her hand on his chest in an attempt to move him, she became immediately intrigued by the slow pounding of his heart, the heat from his body, the sculptured muscles beneath her fingertips. She forgot what she was going to say. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed her fingers against him unconsciously.
“You’re playing with fire,” he growled.
“You’re hot enough,” she replied daringly, meeting the silver glint of his gaze with a bold one of her own.
He frowned. “I had enough of that with Jeannie. Don’t play games, Molly, I’m not up to it anymore. Go in there and fix something for dinner.”
Heat washed through her. “I’m not playing games.” Her hand fisted and she yanked it away from him. Trying to shake off his hands, she found herself drawn even closer, until his heat engulfed her, until all she could see was blazing silver eyes.
She didn’t want a kiss. It meant nothing. Not to him, he’d made that clear. But before she could protest, before she could pull away, it changed. He beguiled and entreated until she could no more resist than she could stop breathing, Stepping even closer, she pressed herself against him and returned the kiss.
Suddenly, Josh stepped back.
“Get dinner,” he said and turned to stride down the hall.
Molly swayed and reached out for the doorframe. Her knees were shaky. She drew in a deep breath and headed for the kitchen. She had less than seven minutes to get something on the table. She’d never make it.
When Molly walked into the kitchen, Brianna smiled in greeting. The place was a hive of activity. Three cowboys cut vegetables, Jake beat a large bowl of eggs, Brianna directed another man to start frying potatoes.
“We thought to have omelets, country potatoes and biscuits,” Brianna said.
Déjà vu
, Molly thought. Her first night the cowboys had rallied around to prepare the same meal. Had she come full circle? Would tonight be her last night here?
Feeling foolish for forgetting about dinner—and decidedly unneeded in the midst of all the activity—Molly nevertheless reached for the utensils to set the table. No one seemed to mind the work, but that wasn’t the point. It was her job to do and she hadn’t done it. Josh had every reason to fire her.
A subdued Molly endured dinner. She tried to join in the conversation, but, ever conscious of Josh’s eyes on her, lost her train of thought more than once and was unable to contribute much. She insisted on clearing everything herself. Thanking everyone for helping, she avoided Josh. She hoped he'd refrain from making some snide comment, and felt her prayers answered when he departed immediately after eating.
Brianna and Jake were heading back for Texarkana after dinner. Molly said her goodbyes, with promises on both sides to keep in touch. Brianna gave Molly her address and phone number.
“We're looking for a bigger place, but I’ll keep in touch. Come visit us in Texarkana sometime,” Brianna said, giving her a hug goodbye.
Molly nodded but knew she'd never go. Once she left the Rafter C it would be too hard to keep in touch. A clean break was best.
She went to her room after the kitchen was clean. Standing by her window, she gazed out over the green fields. It was time to move on. She wasn’t pulling her weight. Today had proved that. And the heartache wouldn’t go away seeing Josh every day. She’d left the message from Gillian on his desk. Was he talking with her now?
Tomorrow she’d check in with the agency. If there wasn't another job available, she’d go home. Her dad wanted her to come to visit. She wanted to talk some more with him, see how far they could come in their own relationship.
She’d leave in the morning.
But when morning arrived, Molly had second thoughts. Granted she hadn't been the best housekeeper, but she had done some things right. And she would do more before leaving. Once breakfast ended, she prepared stacks of sandwiches for lunch, left them in the refrigerator and headed for town in the blue and white pickup. She’d purchase enough groceries to last them a couple of weeks. Surely Mrs. Montgomery could find a replacement in that time. And she could prepare some meals ahead of time so even if there wasn't a housekeeper right away, the cowboys would have some meals to heat up and eat.
The ranch yard was deserted when Molly returned. Quickly she unloaded and put away the groceries.
She gathered up Josh’s laundry, stripping his bed, taking his towels. Everything would be cleaned before the end of the day. That'd give him enough clothes to wear until her replacement arrived.
Molly vacuumed and dusted, wiped the kitchen floor and swept the porches back and front. She had bought pizzas again. But this time she had plenty. Cooking while she continued to work, she tried frantically to get everything done. When she left she wanted the house to shine, and the men to remember her kindly.
Late afternoon, a knock came at the front door. It took Molly a few seconds to figure it out, no one ever used the front door. She hurried to answer it. A florist delivery truck sat in front of the house. A young man held a huge arrangement of flowers.
“Molly Forrester?” he asked, peering around the bouquet.
“Yes?”
“These are for you.” He thrust the vase toward her.
Molly took them with a smile of delight. No one had ever sent her flowers before. Walking into the kitchen, she set the vase on the table. A small envelope peeked up from among the leaves.
“To Molly. We think you’re the best! The Men of the Rafter C.”
Tears filled her eyes as Molly pulled out a chair and sat down, as warmth spread through her. She blinked several times and reread the note. The cowboys had sent her flowers! She felt so special, cherished. Maybe she had done an adequate job in their eyes.
She tilted her head to the side and gazed at the pretty bouquet. Daisies, carnations, tiger lilies and baby’s breath. The colors blended as tears filled her eyes. She hated to leave. She couldn’t stay, but this made it even harder to leave.
Why couldn’t Josh have felt the same way? Why couldn’t he think she was the best?
Molly had eight pizzas on the table and opened the oven door to pull out another two from the oven when the men began trooping in that night. Smiling, she hurried over and hugged each man as he arrived.
Their laughter and awkward pats on her back warmed her as much as the bouquet had.
“Got the flowers, huh?” Billy asked, walking in last and studying the bouquet from every angle. “They look fine.”
“They're wonderful!” Molly said. “I’ve never had anyone send me flowers before,” she added just as Josh walked in.
He stared at the flowers, at her happy face, then at the satisfied expressions on the faces of his men. Carefully schooling his own expression, he washed his hands at the sink and sat down.
“I have plenty of pizza tonight,” Molly said, setting the timer. “Enough for every one of you to have your own, if you can eat that much.”