Open Country (27 page)

“Is something wrong?” she asked quietly, not wanting to alarm the others.

Jessica lifted a shaky hand to her brow. “Simply tired, I think.”

But Molly could see the strain of fatigue around her mouth, the worry in her eyes. “Perhaps you should stretch out for a bit.”

“Yes. Perhaps I should.”

Quietly motioning Iantha to take over, Molly took Jessica’s arm and steered her from the room. Once out of the kitchen, Jessica’s steps slowed and she leaned into Molly for support. “I don’t know what’s come over me,” she said, clinging to the railing as they slowly mounted the stairs. “I just feel so out of sorts. None of my other pregnancies was this exhausting.”

Trying to keep the concern from her voice, Molly asked, “Have you been sleeping well?”

“Not particularly. Nothing specific. Simply restless.” On the landing she stopped and turned to Molly. “Please, don’t tell Brady. He worries so, the dear man. And I’m sure this is not beyond normal for a woman in my condition.”

When Molly nodded, they continued down the hall to Jessica’s room. After settling Jessica on a chaise by the fire, Molly moved across the hearth to sit in an oversized wingback chair that had to have been Brady’s. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her thighs and clasped her hands together. “Now tell me what’s wrong. And don’t think to hide anything from me, Jessica. I’m a nurse. I can see something is bothering you. Perhaps I can help.”

Jessica took a long time to answer. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Molly. Nothing physical, at any rate. I just worry.”

“About what?”

Sadness clouded her eyes as she stared into the flames crackling in the hearth. “Ben was a twin, you know. The other baby was a girl. Victoria. She died inside me long before the birth.” She met Molly’s gaze. “You mustn’t say anything to Brady, but I saw Dr. O’Grady when we were in Val Rosa. He thinks I may be carrying twins again.”

Molly tried to keep her expression from betraying her concern. She knew how dangerous bearing twins could be. She had never assisted in a multiple birth, but she’d read of complications in Papa’s medical papers. “What happened last time?”

“They came early. Dr. O’Grady said that was not unusual with twins. Ben was small but healthy. But Victoria . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“And you think that will happen again?”

“I don’t know. I worry that it will. It was difficult losing Victoria.”

“Well.” Clapping her hands to her knees, Molly straightened. “It won’t happen this time. That’s why I’m here.”

“You’re here because my husband coerced you.”

“He’s concerned.” But Jessica’s words sparked a sudden shocking realization in Molly’s mind. It wasn’t just because of Hank that Brady had forced her here. It was because of Jessica too.
That liar.

“And we’ll not add to his burden, will we?” Jessica said pointedly.

“Promise me you won’t say anything to Brady unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Oh, she had plenty to say to Brady. And all of it necessary. But not wanting to worry Jessica, she pasted on a smile. “On one condition.”

Jessica arched one coppery brow, haughty as a banker’s wife. If Molly hadn’t known better, she might have been intimidated. “And what would that be?”

“You must do everything I tell you.”

“A rather broad edict, wouldn’t you say?”

If not for the British accent, Jessica could have passed for a Southern lady of quality. Steel wrapped in velvet, draped with a smile. “Just let me do the worrying,” Molly told her. “And before you know it, there will be two more beautiful babies for you to fuss over.”

For the first time, Jessica smiled. “Won’t that be lovely?”

Molly was determined that it would be. She owed this family so much. She knew she hadn’t the right, but she felt they were her family, too, and even though delivering babies was not part of her usual nursing tasks, she would do everything she could to see that this delivery was perfect.

“Now that we have me taken care of,” Jessica said. “Let’s tend to you.”

“Me?”

Jessica gave her a speculative look. “How goes it with you and Hank? I’ve sensed a bit of awkwardness between you. Is all well?”

Uncomfortable under Jessica’s probing gaze, Molly rose and walked to the window. It was another beautiful sparkling day. Spun sugar clouds floating above a diamond-crusted earth. So white, so pure, so untainted. A fairy tale.

If only . . .

Irritated at her own imaginings, she turned away. “You know him better than I. Do you think he’s happy in this marriage?”

“I wouldn’t say I know him better. Longer, perhaps. Hank isn’t that easy to know, since he shares so little of himself.”

“Why is that?” Molly asked. “He does seem guarded.”

Jessica shrugged. “Perhaps because he’s the middle brother and is easily overlooked. Especially around Brady and Jack. Those two seem to draw all the energy from a room.”

Molly wasn’t sure she agreed. She didn’t know Jack, but it was her observation that more often Brady revolved around Hank, much the way the quicksilver moon circled the larger, stabler Earth. Besides, how could anyone overlook a man like Hank? Beauty aside, the man filled a room with his indomitable presence, charging the air with his male energy and creating an aura of safety that drew people like moths to flame. Drew
her
, anyway.

“I met the woman from the fort when we were in town,” she said. Jessica’s eyes widened. “Melanie? What was she doing in Val Rosa?”

“I’m not sure. Hank sent me back to the hotel while he spoke with her.”

“Surely she didn’t think to rekindle his interest.”

“I don’t know. But he assured me he didn’t harbor feeling for her.”

Jessica waved a hand in dismissal. “Well, how could he, really? Melanie is a lovely girl but utterly cowed by her mother—a vicious woman at best—and certainly no match for Hank’s sharp mind. He would have been bored in a month.” She arched that brow. “And he certainly never looked at Melanie the way he looks at you.”

Molly felt a blush of pleasure inch up her throat. She had often felt Hank’s gaze on her. Sometimes puzzled, sometimes amused, sometimes showing that intensity that sent her heart into chaos and left her feeling confused and anxious and wanting . . . something. Forcing a bright smile, Molly pushed those thoughts aside. “Back to you.” Donning her nurse persona, she said in a firm, no-nonsense voice, “Naps twice a day, small frequent meals, and no lifting. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Excellent.” As Molly turned toward the door, Jessica’s voice called her back.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Molly,” she said, her eyes suspiciously bright. “And not solely because of your excellent nursing skills. But because I need a friend. A woman friend. They add so much to one’s life, don’t you think?”

Molly felt an answering sting in her own eyes. “Indeed they do.” Especially to one who had been blessed with so few.

Later that afternoon, the men returned with a fifteen-foot-tall spruce, which, with a great deal of muttering and cursing, they set up beside the grand fireplace. Molly waited until the task was completed and Hank left to tend chores in the barn, then as soon as she saw Brady head toward his office, she marched after him.

“You lying scoundrel!” she accused, charging into the room on his heels.

He looked around, his face showing surprise. “What’d I do this time?”

“It’s not just because of Hank you blackmailed me into coming here! It’s because of Jessica too! That’s why you wouldn’t tell him the truth. You were afraid if he knew what I’d done, he wouldn’t let me come, and then there would be no one to tend Jessica!”

His look of surprise gave way to a wary look. “As I recall, it was you blackmailing me,” he said, easing down into his chair. “Something about three hundred dollars to get you out of my brother’s life.”

“You really are a bastard, aren’t you?”

“I told you I’d do anything for my brother. You think I’d do less for my wife?”

“God.” Sinking into a chair in front of the desk, she propped her elbows on her knees and dropped her head into her hands. “He’ll never forgive me or trust me again. He’ll hate me.” She thought of Melanie, and how easily Hank had put her from his mind. Would he do that with her too?

“Not if he doesn’t find out,” Brady said, almost as if he knew her thoughts.

She lifted her head and frowned at him. “He already suspects the truth, Brady. He’s not stupid. He’ll realize we’ve been lying to him all along.”

“Where’s the lie? You did marry him. Beckworth showed me the certificate that proves it. So where’s the lie?”

“He was unconscious. I doubt the marriage is even legal.”

“How will he know if you don’t tell him?”

Molly stared at him, not seeing the reaction she’d expected. No surprise. No fury. Not even confusion. “You knew,” she said in startled disbelief. “You knew he never proposed, that it was all a sham from the beginning, didn’t you? You knew!”

“Not from the beginning,” he said in a placating tone that made her want to leap over his desk and throttle him. “Not until I saw you working so hard to keep him at arm’s length. A true wife wouldn’t have done that.”

“Damn you, Brady.” Tears rose in her throat, making her voice high and wobbly. “What have you done?”

“What I had to. For him and for Jessica.”

She couldn’t get her mind around it—the manipulation, the deceit, his utter disregard for anything other than his own aims. “He’ll hate me. He’ll never forgive me or trust me or . . .” Realization hit so hard, she rocked back, one hand to her chest.

Or what? Love me?
Was that what she had been hoping for? She wanted to laugh. Then cry. Then scream at her own stupidity. She had fallen in love with the man she had set out to deceive. How sad and ironic and pathetic was that?

Tears filled her eyes, ran unchecked down her face.

“Don’t do that,” Brady muttered, tossing a kerchief across the desk.

Molly ignored it. “How could you do this to me, Brady?”

“Do what?” He dragged both hands through his dark hair then let them fall back to the armrests. “What exactly have I done, Molly? You’re safe. Your children are safe. Hank is alive and recovering. What the hell have I done?”

Hopeless despair defeated her. Pressing her hands to her face, she let the tears flow.

“Aw, hell.” There was a long, tense pause, then Brady sighed. “You care about him. You want it to be a real marriage, don’t you, Molly? Sonofabitch.”

Molly lifted her head and glared at him. “No chance of that now, is there? Thanks to you and my own stupidity.” Snatching the kerchief from the desk, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I should have told him the truth as soon as I knew he would recover. Instead, I let you talk me into coming here and continuing this despicable farce.” She flung the kerchief back onto the desk and rose to her feet. “Well, no more. I’m done.” She turned toward the door.

“No wait! Listen!” Brady shot to his feet and came around the desk. “It can still work, Molly. We can both still get what we want.”

“How?” she asked, disgusted with herself that she was still in the room, still listening to this man . . . still hoping.

“I’ll vouch for you, tell him the marriage is real. He never needs to know about the money or that he never knew you before.”

Hope curdled. “You don’t understand, Brady,” she said wearily. “Hank is not like you. He doesn’t even think the way you do. Lying about the marriage was one thing. But covering it up these last weeks . . . ? That’s what he’ll never forgive.”

As she turned back toward the door, Brady grabbed her arm. “Don’t, Molly. Wait a minute. Just listen.”

She whirled, prepared to flay him alive. Then she saw his face.

He looked panicked and worried. The man was clearly suffering—not that he didn’t deserve it—but such a show of vulnerability seemed so alien to Brady’s character, it shocked her.

“You’re right. It’s Jessica,” he blurted out “I need you to stay because of Jessica. She’s—” He faltered, then rushed on. “Doc O’Grady says she’s carrying twins.”

“I know that. So does she.”

“She does? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because you’re a worrying nitwit.” Pulling her arm from his grip, Molly opened the door.

He reached past her to shut it, and held it closed when she tried to pull it open. “Did you know she almost died when Ben was born? And that Abigail was breech? What if it happens again? Women die in childbirth all the time.”

Swallowing back her irritation, she whirled to face him, arms crossed over her chest. “And you think I can keep that from happening to Jessica?”

“You can try.” His eyes were pleading now. His face was so tense a tiny muscle jerked in his jaw. “Stay. I’ll make it right with Hank. I’ll tell him it was all my idea, that I forced you into it. I’ll do whatever you want, Molly. Just don’t leave her.”

Molly thought of Jessica—her friend—and the sadness in her eyes when she spoke of her lost daughter.

She thought of Penny and Charlie—safe here, and so happy. And Fletcher—waiting to pounce the moment they left.

She thought of Hank—who had kissed her and asked her to take down her hair, and who made her feel more like a woman than she ever had before.

Dust motes in sunlight.

Did they ever grow weary and long to settle too?

“I won’t lie to him, Brady,” she finally said. “Ever again.”

“But you’ll stay? At least until the babies come?”

“For Jessica. Not you.” Pushing his arm aside, she flung open the door and stalked from the room.