Finally a Bride (13 page)

“Tell me about that day,” she urged him. “Talk about it, Eric. You can tell me anything, you know.”

He couldn’t tell her about that day. He couldn’t tell her about many of his days in the Middle East, not without giving her nightmares. It was bad enough that he had them—except for last night. With her in his bed, in his arms, he had slept peacefully for the first time in a long time.

“Tell me,” she beseeched him.

He sighed. “I’ll tell you what I should have told you yesterday. You’re losing your fiancé.”

“He’s not my fiancé. I’m not wearing his ring anymore,” she reminded him, flashing her naked hand.

“But you still have it.” Eric sighed. “Word around town is that he might need it for someone else.”

Her eyes brightened. “Who?”

“Brenna.” He studied her face, searching for signs of jealousy or regret. “I heard they’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“That’s great,” she enthused, her voice ringing with sincerity.

He shook his head. “I don’t understand you, Molly. You’re still engaged to this guy, but you want him to fall for someone else?”

“We
were
engaged,” she corrected him. “And I do want someone to fall in love with him. He’s a great guy. He deserves someone who loves him.”

“And you don’t love him?”

She patted the tangled sheets. “Obviously not.”

“Then why did you accept his proposal?” He nodded as realization dawned—along with disappointment and anger. “Oh my God, I get it. You were looking for a way out of medical school. You dropped out when you got engaged. You would have used Josh and his sons as an excuse to not go back.”

She sucked in a breath. “I was being selfish, but not that selfish.”

“You can swear you didn’t even subconsciously use him and his sons?”

She lifted her bare shoulders in a slight shrug. “Maybe. Maybe I did.”

“Is that what this is?” he asked, gesturing as she had toward the mussed bed—to the two of them naked. “Another excuse for you to drop out?”

“Eric!”

“Are you using me, too, Molly?”

“You’re talking crazy. I’ve already dropped out. And I’ve already decided not to go back. I don’t need an excuse for anything,” she said. Her voice uncharacteristically sharp with anger, she challenged him, “But apparently you do.”

“What?” he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“You need an excuse to pull back. You use the scar with other women, but it doesn’t bother me,” she explained. “So you’re turning this around—you’re blaming me.”

“Less than a week ago you were about to marry another man,” Eric pointed out. “You still have his ring, but you’re sleeping with me….”

“We actually did very little sleeping,” she said.

He swallowed a groan, refusing to let his mind go there, back to all the things they’d done—all the things he still wanted to do with her. “This isn’t about me and what I want.”

Because he knew. He’d known since he was seven.

“I think you need more time, Molly, to figure out what you really want. You’re jumping from one relationship to another.” He left her sitting alone on the bed as he headed back to the bathroom.

“Jumping is better than running. You’re running away again—just like you did eight years ago.” She snorted in derision. “I guess I should be used to you taking off on me after we make love.”

“Molly—”

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to keep running. I’m moving out, and I’ll leave you alone. Just like you want me to.”

Words blurred into ink blotches before Molly’s eyes, tears rendering her unable to take refuge where she always had—in books. After leaving Eric’s house, she hadn’t wanted to go home; she hadn’t been ready to face anyone. So she had come here instead, to the library.

And she’d had it to herself for a while. But now she heard the clank of the door and the scrape of shoes against the short pile of the commercial carpeting. So she dashed away her tears with the backs of her hands. Then she picked up the unread book and slipped between the shelves in order to return it—and hide. After a week, she would have to work to break this new habit.

Through the books, she spied on the intruder as she remained on the other side of the shelf that separated the reading area from the stacks. Her lips curved into a smile as she recognized the dark hair and slender build of her younger sister. Colleen had always been a tagalong, forever following around Molly and her friends. God, Molly had missed her. Even though she came home for visits and stayed in the room she had always shared with Colleen, she still didn’t see enough of the woman who had been first her sister, then one of her best friends. Silently, she crept around the shelves and stepped closer to Colleen.

“Stupid, stupid,” the younger woman murmured as she pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead.

“Hey, don’t talk about my sister that way,” she admonished her in a whisper.

Colleen whipped around and shouted, “Molly!”

“Shh…” Molly said, glancing toward the front of the library and the elderly librarian who slumped behind the checkout desk, snoring.

Colleen pushed her chair back from the table and launched herself at Molly. Molly’s arms closed around her younger sister, her head just reaching Colleen’s shoulders. The girl could have been a supermodel, she was that gorgeous. Instead she worked for their brother at the insurance agency he’d taken over when their father died.

“Thank God, you’re home!” Colleen said, expelling a breath of relief.

“Yes, I’m home,” she confirmed, glancing around the library with satisfaction. Molly had spent so much time here growing up that the library truly felt like home, more like home, in some ways, than the house where their father had died. Since she had decided not to return to medical school, maybe Molly needed to go back to second grade and the career she’d chosen then.

Colleen’s dark eyes narrowed. “So, did you leave town? We all thought you were with Eric.”

“I don’t want to talk about Eric,” Molly said.

“Is he okay?” her sister asked, her voice full of concern.

Molly sighed. She didn’t want to
think
about him, either. “Yes. Poor Colleen,” she teased, “you always had a crush on him.”

“Poor Eric,” her sister sympathized. “He always had a crush on
you.
”

“Not anymore,” she murmured.

“What’s going on, Molly?” Colleen asked. She must have come straight from the office, as she wore her work uniform of blouse and skirt.

Molly wore jean shorts and a cami. In a hurry to get away before Eric was finished with his shower, she had left most of her stuff at his cabin. She would have to ask someone to retrieve her things later. From the dark circles rimming Colleen’s eyes, she didn’t dare ask her sister for assistance. She wanted to offer her help instead.

“Are you okay?” Colleen asked.

Molly nodded. “Yes. I’m fine.” She was more worried about Colleen right now. “I’m really sorry…”

“No, you don’t need to apologize,” Colleen said, reminding Molly of Eric. “You’ve been under so much pressure for years, with college and medical school. Sometimes you just need to take off.”

When their father had gotten sick, Colleen had often taken off, probably just needing to get away from that house, from that pain. Molly had understood, and she’d let her sister be. The younger girl had only ever stayed away a few hours before she’d come back home and slipped into bed in the room she’d shared with Molly. Too many nights they’d cried themselves to sleep in that house. She didn’t blame Colleen for needing to leave it occasionally.

“So your time alone—it worked?” Colleen asked. “You figured out what you want?”

Molly nodded again. “I figured it out.” She swallowed a sigh as she thought of the things Eric had accused her of—using Josh, using
him.
“But that doesn’t mean I’ll get it.”

“So what do you want?” her sister asked.

“Can we talk about it later?” she asked as she settled onto the edge of the table near the pile of books that Colleen had arranged. She picked up one of them and glanced at the title. “You’re picking out books to read to the kids at the hospital?”

Colleen nodded, then bit her lip.

“Good choices,” Molly approved. She would like to think she’d had something to do with Colleen’s love of books. The minute she’d learned to read, she had started reading to her younger siblings. But she couldn’t focus on the titles, not with Eric’s accusation echoing in her head. “So you’ve seen Josh?”

“Not at the hospital,” Colleen said. “Josh is still on…”

“Our honeymoon?” Except he’d spent it with Brenna, just as she’d spent it with Eric.

Colleen shook her head. “He didn’t go anywhere. He stayed in Cloverville, him and Buzz and T.J.”

“Where has he stayed?” Molly asked, hoping her sister would confirm that her plan for Josh and Brenna to fall in love had proved successful. “Our house?” she asked, even though she knew better, thanks to her mom’s spying.

“With the Kellys,” Colleen said. “But just until he gets the Manning house livable for him and the boys.”

“He bought the Manning house?” Her mom hadn’t told her that. Had Eric also known?

“Josh is moving here,” Colleen said. Her throat moved as she swallowed, as if she was choking on emotion, and she continued, “He and Nick Jameson are opening their office. It’ll be done soon.”

From the way her sister’s voice trembled just saying his name, Molly knew Colleen had fallen for Nick—whom she probably wouldn’t have gotten involved with if not for Molly’s wedding. “I’ve made such a mess of things.”

Colleen laughed.

“Hey, it’s not funny!” Molly protested as she held in a laugh of her own, fearing she’d slip into hysteria if she started.

Colleen raised her palms in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m used to you being perfect and me being the screwup.”

“
I’ve
never been the perfect one,” Molly insisted. “There’s only been one perfect McClintock.”

“Clayton?”

Molly shook her head. “No, he can be a real pain in the ass. Especially for Abby.” Hopefully, he had realized he couldn’t live without her and had given her Mom’s old engagement ring by now.

“And the perfect McClintock is certainly not Rory,” Molly continued. “The little hellion.” Eric must have had something big hanging over the teenager’s head, because he still hadn’t come back to the cabin demanding payment from Molly in exchange for his silence.

Colleen defended their younger brother. “He’s actually started to straighten up.”

Maybe that was why he hadn’t been around. If it was true, she suspected Eric and those fishing
appointments
had helped straighten out the teenage troublemaker. She replayed their conversation. “I was talking about
you,
Colleen. You’ve always been the perfect one.”

“I’m a long way from perfect, Mol. There’s something you don’t know—”

“I know about you and the colonel,” Molly interrupted. Like that night with Eric, she had kept this secret, too. Because she hadn’t wanted to add to her younger sister’s guilt or pain.

“Abby told you?”

She shook her head. “No, Abby would take a friend’s secret to her grave.
You
told us. You were so miserable and guilty when she took off.” She squeezed Colleen’s shoulder. “She was going to leave anyway. She’d always planned on taking off, but we couldn’t convince you of that.”

“So you
all
knew my secret?” she asked.

“That secret,” Molly said, hoping Colleen realized now that it hadn’t mattered. “Tell me your new secret.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Colleen said, but she couldn’t meet Molly’s gaze.

“Tell me what has you sitting alone in the library, trying not to cry,” she demanded, slipping into big-sister mode.

Although Colleen smiled, her eyes were bright. “I’m not crying.”

Molly arched a brow.

“Really,” Colleen insisted.

“What’s his name?” she asked, although she was afraid she already knew it.

After a deep breath, the younger woman spilled. “Nick.”

This time Colleen had uttered his name with even more emotion. This wasn’t one of her younger sister’s crushes—she actually loved him. “Oh, no. It’s worse than I thought.”

“Certainly hopeless,” Colleen said, her eyes dark with misery.

“Then you know,” Molly asked, “how he feels about marriage?”

Colleen glanced at the sleeping librarian, then heavily admitted, “Yes.”

“But you still fell for him,” Molly concluded.

“Like I told you, I’m a long way from perfect.”

“No, you’re human, Colleen. And we can’t help who we fall in love with.” Molly slid off the table to settle wearily into one of the wing chairs, which was upholstered in a book-patterned fabric. “I realize that now.”

And she also realized that she’d loved Eric for a long time. If only he loved her—or wasn’t afraid to admit he loved her.

“You know, I seriously think he could love me, too,” Colleen insisted, her chin lifting with pride and determination. “He just has to let himself.”

With frustration Molly commiserated. “Men can be so damn stubborn.”

Colleen nodded in agreement. “I know.”

Molly reached out and squeezed her sister’s hand in sympathy. “I’m so sorry, honey, that you’re hurting.”

“It’s okay.” She lifted her chin even higher. “I’m strong enough to handle a broken heart.”

Molly smiled with pride in her younger sister. “You are strong—far stronger than I ever realized.”

“You’re not the only one,” Colleen said with a smile. “It’s news to me, too.”

“Losing Dad was so hard on us, I think we’ve all been lost for a while.” Molly suspected she had lost herself for the longest time.

Because of a few comments her father had made about her becoming a doctor, she had abandoned her dreams—for something he probably hadn’t even wanted for her. She’d promised her father she would become a doctor, that she’d make sure no one died of this dreaded disease. He’d patted her head, as if he’d approved of and appreciated her vow. But as Eric had said, her father had only wanted her happiness. Why didn’t Eric want that for her? He was supposed to be her friend.

“So you’re not going to tell me what happened between you and Eric?” her younger sister persisted, reminding Molly of earlier days when she had tagged along—quietly—to eavesdrop.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Colleen snorted. “There’s something. You’re just not willing to share it.”

No, that was Eric, unwilling to share his life with anyone—not even Molly.

E
RIC STEPPED BACK
as Brenna Kelly barreled through the front door. His heart rate slowed as the faint hope he’d had that Molly had returned dissipated.

“I know we’re supposed to give her space,” Brenna said, “but I have to talk to her. Now!”

“She’s not here,” he said as he closed the front door behind the impatient redhead.

He didn’t follow her as she ran to each room of the small cabin, searching for Molly. When she walked back into the living room, Eric leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest.

“She’s gone,” Brenna stated the obvious.

“Yeah.” And despite the stuff she’d left behind, he doubted she was coming back.

“Do you have anything to drink?” she asked.

He straightened and headed toward the kitchen, Brenna on his heels. She settled onto one of the stools in front of the lacquered wooden counter.

“Iced tea? Lemonade?” Eric asked, reaching for the handle of the fridge.

“I was thinking of something a little stronger,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“I don’t have any spiked punch,” he warned her.

“Spiked punch?” She narrowed her eyes. “Were you at the wedding?”

“There was no wedding,” he reminded her.

“Nope, because
your
friend skipped out before the ceremony. Why did she do that?” Brenna asked.

“
Your
friend,” Eric said, “got cold feet.” About using Josh and his boys? She wouldn’t have done that intentionally. He had been hateful to accuse her of that.

“She’s gone. Does that mean her feet warmed up?” Brenna asked as she glanced out the windows at the sun setting over the lake.

His shoulders tense, Eric shrugged. “I don’t know what she’s going to do.”

“Do you think she might want him back?”

“The
GQ
doc?” Instead of opening the fridge, Eric reached into the cupboard above it and extracted a dust-coated bottle of whiskey. He wouldn’t blame Molly for going back to Towers. Josh was a nice guy, and
he
was not.

“
GQ
doc?” she repeated. “Is that what he’s called around the hospital?”

He nodded.

“So do you think she wants him back?”

He nodded again as jealousy gripped his gut. “Why wouldn’t she? He’s got the looks. The money.”

“The house,” she interjected.

“Yeah, I heard he bought the Manning place,” Eric admitted.

“You heard right.” She stared him down now. “I haven’t seen you around at all this past week, yet you know everything that’s been going on.”

He grinned at her. “I’m a Marine.”

“You were a medic, not a spy,” she reminded him.

He might have made a better spy than a medic—he hadn’t saved nearly enough soldiers. He had to go back. Molly was right—he had pushed her away that morning so that she would leave him before he had to leave her. Again.

His hand tightened around the whiskey bottle. “So the Manning place…It’s not the minimansion he probably has in East Grand Rapids, but it’s a pretty big house. What? Four, five bedrooms?” Eric remarked as he unscrewed the cap.