Sudden Independents (11 page)

Molly decided to make him jealous. He would suffer when he realized his one and only chance with her was shot. She felt like such a fool. She placed all of her hopes and dreams in a box labeled Jimmy, wanting him to be her companion forever. Instead, he dumped her in the mud. She would never allow him to know how much his rejection hurt. He couldn’t. Molly hated being rejected, but she never wanted someone’s pity.

She finally reached her destination at the top of the hill. She’d been walking to it all day and the sun was way past afternoon in the sky. She turned to glare at the dot in the middle of the large prairie that was Independents. Molly hoped everybody was sick with worry because she was missing.

Now she was stuck in the middle of nowhere. Jimmy would need to send someone out to look for her, but Hunter and Scout were the only ones that really knew the Big Bad and they probably hadn’t returned yet. Maybe no one would come.

Molly didn’t want to be rescued, she decided with a desperate pout as tears threatened yet again. She stared back at the distance between herself and Independents, certain that she’d never make it back by nightfall and scared to sleep in the open prairie.

She kicked at the tall grass. “Of all the stupid things!”

Maybe Mark would come. Mark would find her and all would be forgiven. He would be so relieved to find her safe and sound. She’d apologize for her outburst and promise to be nicer to Vanessa. Yes, Mark would come. After all, he was the sheriff of Independents and Molly was a missing person, right? He had to come.

Molly began her journey back to town. The sun glare in her face gave her a pounding headache throbbing between her eyes. She was tired and thirsty. The tall grass proved more difficult now that her anger simmered from the passion that carried her out, abandoning her for the return trip. Fear was the only thing that propelled her back toward safety.

She thought about Jimmy again. His face contorted with the ugliness she felt for him now. How did she ever fall for such a bumpkin? She was willing to spend the rest of her life as a farmer’s wife, but not anymore.

Molly wanted to be a big city girl again.

Maybe that was what she should do, she thought, turn around and never look back. But she knew she wouldn’t get far, not without preparation for such a trip. No, she needed a better plan. She needed supplies and direction and probably a faster means of getting somewhere. And before she left, Jimmy would suffer.

The sound of a small engine woke Molly from her stride and thoughts of revenge. Her hope soared; Mark finally arrived to take her home. The motorbike traveled fast and she realized Mark wasn’t that reckless or that good on a bike. Only two people could ride like that, and only one would. As the bike sped closer, she saw the final component to all her plans heading her way. A wonderful idea popped in her head. This would be fun.

Hunter coasted the last fifty yards and slowed, gripping the brake as the grass fell under his approach and he killed the noise of the engine.

“Out for a little hike?” he asked. Hunter was cocky up there on his bike. He was also very different from his brother. Shorter, broader, quicker to anger, and he didn’t back down from a fight if he thought he was right. Best of all, he drove Jimmy crazy.

Molly lowered her eyelashes and smiled, letting her hair fall across her face. “I was just blowing off a little steam. Didn’t realize how far I’d gone until I got up there on the hill. Thanks for finding me.”

Hunter flinched. “You’re the second person to say that to me in the past twenty-four hours.”

“Who else did you rescue?”

He dug out his water bottle. Molly was so thirsty her throat ached. Hunter took a long drink first; she almost went over and slapped him before he finally handed her the bottle.

“I found a little girl. She managed to survive on her own. She claims I found her, but I doubt it. She wasn’t really that lost.”

Molly swallowed gratefully as the water quenched her thirst. She capped the bottle and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Why do you say that?”

Hunter stared back towards town and Molly took the opportunity to look him over. She always thought of him as a little boy, but Hunter was only one year younger. Molly never would have considered being with someone younger, up until now.

Hunter coughed and she lifted her wandering attention. He smiled, trying to pose and flex, all nonchalant. Molly laughed and he relaxed the muscle show.

“The girl’s name is Catherine. She has some type of magical healing power. I’m telling the truth. I broke my arm last night and she healed it.” Hunter shook his arm at her as visual proof. “And after Vanessa delivered the baby, Catherine saved her from hemorrhaging to death.”

Molly staggered forward. “What? Vanessa had the baby?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Hunter said, smiling and tapping a beat on his gas tank. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“No. How could I?” Molly frowned.

“Yeah, well, he’s pretty cute, even though he resembles the Boy Scout.” Hunter squished up his face in a sour expression. “He’s got a set of lungs on him, too.”

What a time for the baby to arrive, Molly thought. Mark would never forgive her. He was a new dad with a baby boy, and his stupid sister was nowhere in sight.

“Did Mark send you to find me?” Molly asked, voicing her last hope.

Hunter shook his head and she felt worse, if that were possible. “No, Jimmy did. He worries about everyone.”

She gave Hunter a hard look, wondering if Jimmy already blabbed about what happened between them, and if she was now the laughing-stock of Independents.

“Yeah, Jimmy’s a pain,” Hunter said. “First he sends Scout out to find me and then he sends me to find you. The guy seriously needs a hobby.”

Molly was either lucky, or Jimmy was so embarrassed by her revelation that he didn’t want anyone to find out about their encounter. She hated him even more now.

She gave Hunter back his water bottle. “I guess you have to get me home right away, huh?”

Hunter laughed, packing away his water bottle. “We should just stay out here all night and give Jimmy a heart attack.”

Hunter was only joking, but the seeds of a masterful plan began sprouting inside her. Here she thought Jimmy was the only farmer in town who could grow something. Now that there was an experienced partner involved, Molly wasn’t so afraid of being outside Independents after dark. Hunter was perfect.

“What could we do all night underneath the stars?” Molly asked.

Hunter smiled at her. It was a deep, mischievous smile. Not the smile of a boy, but one of somebody free to roam and grow up quickly. Molly reworked all her perceptions of Hunter. He was not a boy at all.

Slowly she licked her lips and Hunter caught the signal. Molly was amazed at her sudden desire. As soon as he swung his leg off his bike, she rushed into his arms.

H
unter lay awake in bed and peered between the drapes where the frosted windowpane tinted the outside world white. The constant snoring from his roommate woke him up early, making further sleep impossible. The first snow would soon fall and then he’d be trapped in town for the winter. The thought disturbed him, and he found no consolation from the warm body snoring next to him.

He repositioned his pillow in a restless attempt to regain his interrupted dream. A short pause in the snoring quickly renewed with greater gusto. Molly’s arm dropped across his chest and the contact sent him over the edge. He cringed, ready to tear out of his own skin to escape. He rolled out of her grasp and his toasty feet slapped the freezing hardwood floor.

Molly stirred and wrapped herself inside the covers, including the ones he just vacated. “Where are you going?” Her eyes remained closed.

“To the bathroom.”

Hunter frowned and pulled on jeans, sweater and a pair of wool socks. He hurried from the room before she could entice him to stay, which was always an easy thing for her to accomplish. He wandered downstairs and stoked the coals in the fireplace and added another log. Then he fell on the unoccupied sofa, curling up into a ball with hopes of a few more hours of dreaming.

Moments later, feet pounded on the front porch. His eyes popped open in agitation. The front door swung wide, followed by a frosty gust. The chill spread a rash of goose bumps over Hunter and set his teeth to clacking.

Frustrated, Hunter hammered his fist into the back of the sofa several times when the owner of the pounding feet failed to enter right away.

“Hurry up and shut the door! You’re letting the heat out!”

“In a second,” Scout called. “Better yet, give me a hand.”

Hunter growled and pushed himself off the sofa. He reached the doorway and shivered. Heavy clouds packed the sky, barring any chance for the sun’s warmth.

Scout stood in the back of a truck, wrestling with a bulky object lying in the bed. He brought one end up and over the side rail and then pushed the rest of a large rolled-up rug over the rail and onto the porch.

Hunter folded his arms from the biting wind and shook his head, dismayed at yet another one of Scout’s finds. He brought everything home. “Where the hell are we going to put that?”

Scout flashed a big grin and hopped to the ground. “Grab that end and help me get it up to my room.”

Hunter slipped on his boots by the door. “Where’d you get it?”

“I found a farmhouse to the northeast last week that had a bunch of good stuff. Mark and I took the truck this morning to get some things. There was a really nice crib set for little David and I got myself a new rug so I don’t freeze my feet on the hardwood all winter.”

Hunter peeked into the truck bed, but he saw nothing he wanted. “What did you get me?”

“I didn’t get you anything,” Scout said, slipping in front of Hunter like he was hiding something. “Why, what do you need?”

“My own bedroom,” he said.

Scout smiled. “Well, I know where there’s an abandoned farmhouse, minus baby furniture, one rug.” Scout lowered his voice. “And some sewing supplies for Ginger, but don’t tell your girl about that.”

Hunter bent down to tie the laces on his boots. “Don’t worry, we don’t really talk much.”

“Gotcha.” Scout said.

Hunter stopped tying and shook his head. “Cut it out. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Now you’re just bragging.” Scout winked.

Hunter dropped the topic altogether and took one end of the rug. He frowned when he realized his choice forced him into hauling the thing upstairs backwards.

They hefted the rug through the door and up. Hunter cursed when he fell over the top step. He fought out from under the heavy roll and then pulled the rug and Scout up the rest of the way. They negotiated the corner into Scout’s room and dropped the bundle with a loud flop. Hunter hoped all the noise hadn’t woken Molly.

Scout’s room was a montage of nostalgia, without any apparent theme. He was a hoarder and proud of it. Shelves lined every available wall space and were filled with all sorts of things from toys, miniatures, books, stuffed animals, framed pictures of dead movie stars, bobble-heads, metal cars, laptops, e-readers, videogames, cameras, a variety of cell phones and MP3 players, pocketknives, comic books, action figures, board games, baseball cards, baseball gloves, bats, and balls, Frisbees, Yo-yos, dog collars, trophies for various sports—especially bowling—and finally, an assortment of busted clocks with their hands set at 3:30.