Echoes (11 page)

Molly's eyes circled round, bouncing lightly over the quilted bed to the crib pushed against the wall.

"He is awake," she breathed, moving forward.

Arlie laid on his back, arms and feet kicking in the air. He had a wide grin and as many teeth as Rosie.

"Hello, there," she murmured and reached in for him.

His diaper was soaked through and he smelled strongly of urine, but also there was a sweet scent to him, one of innocence and love and a bit of maple syrup. With a triumphant hoot he wrapped his chubby arms around her neck and tried to free her hair from its twist.

"He's got nappies over there. You's lucky. That one's just wet."

The sound of Rosie's laugh drifted back as she left the room. Molly carried the drooling and babbling bundle of motion to the low table with the diapers stacked on a shelf beneath. She found herself laughing as she worked his squirming body free of his wet diaper. Once naked, he squealed with joy.

Getting Arlie's clean diaper and dry clothes on was like trying to dress an octopus, but what Molly lacked in skill in other areas she made up for with babies. While her father cared for the eternal souls of his congregation, Molly cared for the children.

As Rosie finished preparing their meal, Molly sat in the rocker and gave Arlie his bottle. Looking down on him as he sucked and slurped his milk, Molly's heart contracted into a tight knot. He resembled his father very little, but he looked so much like Vanessa it hurt.

As if beckoned by the thought, the front door opened and Adam came in with a gust of chilly evening air. Behind him was an adolescent boy of about sixteen who bore an uncanny likeness to Adam.

As he hung his coat on the wooden pegs beside the door, Adam caught sight of Molly rocking his son in the warm glow of the fire. For a moment he stared with a look that bordered on astonishment. Before she could wonder at his surprise, he stepped closer and gazed down at Arlie's chubby face, pressed close to Molly's breast as he suckled. Arlie smiled, but couldn't be bothered to let loose the bottle.

Molly looked up just as Adam bent down to touch the downy soft hair of Arlie's head. The fire, the contented babe, the blissfully soothing rocking, the virile, gentle father all joined with Molly in an instant that seemed both out of place and time but completely at peace with the moment. A deep feeling of belonging moved within her and the temptation to cover Adam's hand with her own nearly brought her to the action.

"He's awake," Adam murmured. "And not fussing for a change." Arlie turned his head at the sound of his father's deep voice and cooed. "Hey there fella. Did you find a pretty woman to take care of you?"

Molly's face felt hot as the fire that kept the winter cold away. Adam's brother moved to the stove where he sneaked a potato out of the skillet. Rosie rapped his knuckles with her wooden spoon and shooed him out. He came to join Adam in front of the fire and the oddly tender moment ended as quickly as it began.

"You must be Molly," he said, licking the grease off his fingers.

"Yes, I am."

"I'm Brodie." He cocked his head at Adam. "Adam's brother."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Brodie grinned. "You talk just as fancy as Vanessa." The smile vanished, leaving him open mouthed and red flushed. "I mean, as she did. Before...uh..." He stared at his shuffling feet and backed away with a mumbled apology.

They settled Arlie on a blanket on the floor and gave him some smooth painted blocks and beads that were strung with leather twine to play with. Adam's dog flopped down on the floor beside the baby's blanket and watched with sleepy eyes.

At supper, Brodie asked, "So what'd she say about California?"

"Didn't say nothin'," Rosie scolded, "Cuz no one but you brung it up."

Molly had just taken a bite of the most succulent pork chop she'd ever eaten. Mouth full, she watched the conversation jump from one to another Weston.

"Doesn't matter," Adam said. "She's got to know some time."

"Know what?" Molly asked, finally swallowing. Rosie skewered a piece of pork and popped it in her mouth where she daintily chewed it with her front teeth.

"We're not staying on here," Adam answered.

"You are not staying on? What do you mean?"

"Me, Brodie, Ma and Arlie. We plan on pulling up stakes in a few weeks. That's why I sent the letter."

She frowned, certain she would have remembered mention of an intended move—but she could not very well argue the point over a letter she had pretended not to receive. She took a drink of water, giving herself a moment to gather her wits.

"Have you found a new property?" she asked at last, pleased to hear the note of calm curiosity in her voice.

"Not exactly. Like Brodie said, we're going west. To California."

Brodie let out a yee haw at that. Rosie shushed him.

Fork poised halfway to her mouth, Molly finally registered exactly what was being said. Going west… A few weeks… California…

The Reverend's voice resounded through her thoughts. "If you go to that house of heathens, Margaret Louise Marshall, this house of the Lord will not welcome you back."

"Why would you move to California?" she asked in a stunned voice. "I've heard that nothing has been settled there yet. It's only wilderness and, and savages that will kill you."

It was Adam's turn to look uncomfortable. Using her ploy, he lifted his glass and took a long drink of water. In his case, however, he was not forced to then illicit a calm response.

Before Adam's glass had returned to the table, Brodie exclaimed, "Sure it's wilderness but that's not all it is. Hell, there's gold laying around in chunks just waiting for some lucky son of bitch—pardon, ma'am, just waiting for someone to scoop 'em up. And land. So much land all for the taking. Families are pulling out all over for California."

Molly had only heard horror stories about the West. Stories of savagery and hardship and starvation...her father had told her how the heathens would as soon scalp a man as look at him and he wouldn't even say what they did to women. Not that she took everything the Reverend said as gospel.

Still… She looked at her nephew playing on the floor. It was one thing for the adults to test fate, but to drag an innocent child into the unknown seemed unconscionable. And if they went to California, what was she to do?

The anger came on her so quickly she had no chance to consider or contain it. It was just there, suddenly, irrevocably, burning hot and furious. After all she'd risked in coming, now this?

Brodie jammed a huge bite into his mouth and waved his fork in the air. "Once we hit Independence we'll hitch up with all the others heading out. Ain't that right, Adam?"

She faced Adam. "And what of Vanessa?"

He looked at her as if she'd sprouted horns and a pitchfork tail. "Vanessa is dead."

"I know she is dead, but you've buried her here and now you intend to just leave her?"

"It's not like she's going to know," Brodie said, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

"But
I
know," she answered, looking right into Adam's cold gray eyes. "I know that you took advantage of my sister and compromised her so that she would have no choice but to marry you and go away from her friends and family. And now she is dead and you will just leave her behind like your garbage."

"Vanessa never went anywhere she didn't want to go," he said in a soft, steely voice.

"Had she stayed, her life would not have been worth living. Nothing she could have done short of dying would have condoned for the sin of conceiving out of wedlock. But she would not have suffered alone. The Reverend would have hunted you down, Adam Weston, and he would have killed you even if it meant spending eternity in hell and damnation for it."

Her words hit the taut silence like a whip and Molly was instantly horrified by the sting they left behind. Adam's face turned the color of paste while her own flamed. But deep inside a part of her felt vindicated by what she'd said. She wanted to wound this man who had turned her world upside down when he'd taken her sister as his wife and then not protected her from the world to which he'd brought her.

Still, to think it was one thing, to say it, to speak so to him when she was a guest in his house was inconceivable, unbelievable, and most of all, unforgivable. In her entire life, she had never behaved in such an appalling manner. Mortified, she cleared her throat.

"I, I must apologize," she said hoarsely. "The journey has obviously exhausted me to the point of incoherence. Please forgive me my unwarranted disrespect."

He made a harsh sound that held neither anger nor forgiveness and shook his head.

Rosie cut a neat bite of pork chop and said, "Losing Vanessa has been hard on all of us, Molly. Now you ain't had as long to deal with it as we have, so we'll just let this pass. You remember this though, don't none of us know how it was when Adam went back to
New York City. Ask me, all you people living so close to each other are crazy. But I do know that I raised my son to know right from wrong." She popped the bite in her mouth and chewed vigorously with her front teeth.

"I can handle this, Ma."

"I know you can."

He took a deep breath and slowly blew it out, but the tension remained in his face and stance. Molly closed her eyes tightly and desperately searched for something to say.

"What of Arlie," she asked, picking him up from the blanket. He gripped a bright yellow block in his chubby fist. Victoriously he waved it in Molly's face.

"What about him? He goes with me."

"I could take him back with me as well. I would give him a good Christian upbringing."

"Yeah, well as I understand it, Vanessa had one of those. It didn't do her much good."

His words felt like a slap in the face, but she knew she deserved it. And it was true…. As much as she wished it were not, Vanessa most certainly had been a willing participant in their tryst.

"You can stay on until we're ready to pull out," he went on. "I expect by then you'll be ready to go back to your way of things in the city anyhow."

No…
Molly felt cornered, ambushed by her own cruel tongue, trapped by her circumstances. Why had she let loose her temper? How could she tell these people that going back to New York was not an option? She would rather join Vanessa in the cold, foreign dirt of Ohio than face the condemned life that would be hers if she tried to go back to the Reverend's house.

Molly said, "What if I wish to go to
California too?"

Not even Arlie made a sound at that. They all stared at her like she'd grown another head. Had she not been the one to make the brash declaration, she would have been staring as well. What was she thinking? Go to
California with them after what she'd just said?

As she braced herself for Adam's jeering laughter, Arlie laid his little head down on her shoulder and found his thumb. The sound of sucking filled the hollow quiet. Adam stared from his son to Molly, however he did not laugh.

"You're crazier than Vanessa," he said finally.

Insane was more like it. "You will need someone to watch the baby."

"Ma will do it."

Molly turned to Rosie. "Tell me you could not use another pair of woman's hands."

Now Adam did laugh, though Rosie remained silent as she watched the exchange with bright, curious eyes.

"You won't be any help," he said. "Vanessa couldn't have found a skillet with a map."

It was true. Molly knew that it was very true. But she also knew something else, something Adam Weston had not yet come to realize. Shifting Arlie to her other hip, Molly raised her chin and stared him in the eye.

"I am not Vanessa."

Chapter Thirteen

Tess heard Caitlin's voice as if from a great distance. It echoed down the cavernous hallway and pulled her to the surface. She blinked and suddenly she was back.

Back...

She was still standing by the door. Still staring at the corners of the small waiting area outside the school counselor's office. But her heart was hammering and her knees, shaking. She glanced at the clock, numb to the realization that only minutes had passed since Caitlin and Mrs. Sanders had gone to get Caitlin a soda. Only minutes... But it felt like days, weeks....centuries. She recoiled from the feelings of bewilderment and displacement that lingered.

"Here we are," Mrs. Sanders said a moment before the door opened and she and Caitlin walked inside. She smiled kindly at Tess as she ushered Caitlin into her office. Caitlin gave her a tiny wave, more at ease than she'd been earlier.

"Why don't you sit down and relax, Ms. Carson. We may be awhile," the counselor said as she followed Caitlin in and closed the door.

* * *

Mountain Bend Elementary was quiet by four pm, tomb-like by four-thirty. Sitting alone in his office, Craig Weston tried to concentrate on the paperwork stacked on his desk, but he knew that no one really expected him to accomplish anything this week. They were all surprised he'd even shown up for work when his father had died just the day before. But he hadn't wanted to stay home. There he'd be alone with nothing to do but rehash everything that had happened.