Marrying Molly Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Praise for Linda Hope Lee and…

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  SARA’S COCONUT OAT COOKIES

  A word about the author…

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Marrying Molly

  by

  Linda Hope Lee

  The Red Rock, Colorado Series, Book Three

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Marrying Molly

  COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Linda Hope Lee

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2013

  Print ISBN 978-1-61217-852-3

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-853-0

  The Red Rock, Colorado Series, Book Three

  Published in the United States of America

  Praise for Linda Hope Lee and…

  FINDING SARA:

  “A modern western, packed with secrets, intrigue and old-fashioned romance. FINDING SARA is a romance that won’t be forgotten.”

  ~Joanne Hall, Writers and Readers

  of Distinctive Fiction

  *

  “Lee takes a cowboy and an heiress and combines them into a refreshingly sweet tale. Readers can easily relate to the main characters as Sara searches for herself while Jackson overcomes a devastating loss.”

  ~Karen Sweeny-Justice, Romantic Times, (4 Stars)

  LOVING ROSE:

  “LOVING ROSE is a sweet, heartwarming read that will tug at your heartstrings.”

  ~Melissa, Sizzinghotbookreviews.net (4 Hearts)

  *

  “What a beautiful story! LOVING ROSE is full of characters who face real-life situations.”

  ~Nikki, sirenbookreviews.blogspot.com

  (4.5 Siren Stones)

  Dedication

  To Max

  Acknowledgements

  Special thanks to TWRP editor Leanne Morgena

  for her expert editing and guidance

  during the writing of this series.

  Chapter One

  Molly Henson leaned forward to gaze out the TransAmerica coach car’s window. Any minute now, the Rocky Mountains would appear. The train chugged around a corner, and, yes, there they stood, still off in the distance, but unmistakably her beloved Rockies. Her heartbeat quickened. The sight of the jagged ridges of purple granite, veined with snow even on this June day, and silhouetted against the deep blue sky, never failed to thrill her. The mountains remained faithful guardians of the country she called home.

  Doubt eroded some of her excitement. After a two-year absence, would she still call Red Rock, Colorado home?

  “Mommy?”

  Molly pushed away her troubling thoughts and turned to her five-year-old daughter, Karli, sitting beside her. She brushed a ringlet of blond hair from the child’s forehead. “Yes, darlin’?”

  “Are we there yet?”

  At the frequent question posed by her impatient daughter, Molly smiled. “Almost. Why don’t you take a little nap? Then we’ll be there before you know it.”

  “’kay.” Karli snuggled down in the seat and closed her eyes.

  Molly regarded her child for a long moment, conscious of the love overflowing her heart. Her daughter was her most precious possession, more dear than anything else in the world. She hoped returning to Red Rock was the right move.

  She drew in a deep breath and leaned back against the seat. Maybe she should take a nap, too. The journey from Chicago had been long. They could have flown, of course; but, thinking Karli might enjoy seeing the country, Molly chose the train.

  After a last look at the mountains, growing ever closer, she closed her eyes. The clack-clack of the train’s wheels faded as she drifted off to sleep…

  Something was wrong. Molly’s eyelids popped open. She clutched the armrests and jerked upright. An innate sense of trouble had pierced her sleeping mind like a silent alarm. She turned to make sure Karli was all right.

  Karli’s seat was empty.

  Molly’s stomach clenched. Karli had the habit of going off without telling her. What was she up to this time?

  Heart pounding, she scooted into Karli’s seat, leaned into the aisle, and peered ahead. No sign of her daughter. She swiveled and scanned the back of the car. Karli stood in the aisle talking to a male passenger. Molly’s relief lasted only a moment then anger heated her cheeks. Hadn’t she warned her daughter many times about talking to strangers?

  She bounded from her seat and marched down the aisle. “Karli? What are you doing back here?”

  Karli gazed up at Molly with innocent eyes. “I was looking for Mr. Muggins. I lost him, and he found him.” She pointed to the man seated on the aisle.

  The man in question appeared to be a few years older than Molly, probably in his early thirties. He was dressed in navy blue slacks, a light blue sports shirt, and a tan nylon windbreaker. Dark brown hair was neatly combed over a high forehead, and he had deep-set brown eyes.

  She’d noticed him earlier in the dining car. He sat alone, reading a newspaper. He glanced up as she and Karli passed by. His gaze lingered longer than a stranger’s should.

  Molly had to admit he appeared harmless, although appearance alone was not proof that someone was good or bad. Where her child was concerned, she couldn’t be too careful.

  “I found Mr. Muggins on the floor next to my seat,” the man explained, nodding at the small doll Karli clutched to her chest. “Figured he belonged to someone not far away, so I set him right here.” He pointed to the armrest.

  “And when I got up to look for Mr. Muggins, I saw him,” Karli said. “Mr. Muggins, Mr. Muggins…” She sang the theme song to the doll’s animated TV show.

  “That was very nice of you.” Molly spoke in a crisp, polite tone then turned to Karli. “Say ‘thank you,’ honey, so we can go back to our seats.”

  Karli waved the doll. “Thank you.”

  The man smiled. “My pleasure.” He switched his attention to Molly, and their gazes collided.

  Her heart started to pound. Why? The danger had passed. Karli was safe.

  The new danger had nothing to do with Karli. Like an arrow shot from a bow, the warning was aimed directly at Molly.

  With a quick intake of breath, she grabbed Karli’s hand and marched them down t
he aisle. When they reached their seats, Molly put Karli next to the window and herself on the aisle. She leaned over and, in as calm a voice as she could muster, said, “Karli, honey, I’m glad you found Mr. Muggins, but I’ve asked you not to talk to strangers. Even if I’m nearby.”

  “But he had Mr. Muggins.” Karli’s brows knit. “Mr. Muggins is mine.”

  “I know. But here’s what I wish you would have done.” She smoothed the collar of Karli’s pink cotton blouse. “When you spotted Mr. Muggins, you would’ve told me first. Then we would have gone together to talk to the man. Please remember for next time. Okay?”

  “’kay.” Karli shrugged. She turned away and held the doll up to the window. “See, Mr. Muggins, that’s the desert out there.”

  Her tension melting away, Molly leaned back and listened to her daughter talk to her doll as though he were real. Perhaps to Karli, he was. On his TV show, Mr. Muggins was nanny to a brood of six children whose busy parents had little time for them. Dressed in a black suit, white shirt, red string tie, and black felt hat, Mr. Muggins always thought up fun things to do and fun places to go. Karli loved the show, so Molly had given her the doll at Christmastime. She never thought Karli would become so attached to Mr. Muggins, but she took him with her everywhere.

  Molly wondered if the doll might be a father-substitute. Helping her daughter adjust to a one-parent family was one of the many challenges she’d faced after Buck’s death two years ago.

  The image of her late husband popped into her mind—tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, with blond hair and eyes bluer than any Colorado sky. And, as always when she thought of him, a mixture of anger and love filled her. Anger because he’d left her and Karli all too soon, and love because she loved him today as much as she ever had while he was alive.

  Buck’s image faded, replaced by that of the stranger she and Karli had spoken to, sitting only a few rows behind them. When their gazes met, her heart had thundered so fast she had to break eye contact. What was that all about? Molly straightened and set her jaw. Never mind. The stranger didn’t matter, nor did her troubling reaction. After she and Karli left the train at Red Rock, they’d never see him again.

  ****

  Steve Roper leaned into the aisle, his gaze fastened on the woman and her daughter as they made their way back to their seats. The child—Karli, her mother had called her—looked back over her shoulder. She smiled and waved the Mr. Muggins doll. Steve smiled back and gave a little salute.

  She was a cute kid, and they’d been having a perfectly innocent conversation about Mr. Muggins. Steve was familiar with the doll because his niece and nephew back in New York watched the TV program.

  Karli’s mother interrupted them and swept her daughter back to their seats. He really couldn’t blame the woman for her protective attitude. The world sometimes was a dangerous place, and children shouldn’t be talking to strangers.

  Earlier, he’d noticed the mother and daughter in the dining car when they passed by his table. But he hadn’t seen whether or not the child carried a doll, or anything else. He’d been too busy looking at the mother.

  A redhead, she had a sprinkling of freckles across her pert, up-turned nose. While he’d never been particularly attracted to redheads, he couldn’t take his eyes off this one.

  Their gazes met for one brief, yet highly charged moment, and he had a wild urge to leap up and invite her and her child to share his table. Fortunately, before he could make such an impulsive and probably stupid move, the hostess appeared and led the pair to another table.

  “You goin’ to Denver?” Steve’s seatmate interrupted his thoughts.

  Steve glanced at the man, who’d boarded the train a couple stops ago. In his sixties, he had watery eyes and leathery skin. His receding chin sprouted a white goatee.

  “Not my final destination,” Steve said. “But I’ll be doing business there.”

  “That’s where I’m headed,” the man continued. “Goin’ to live with my son. He don’t think I should be alone now my wife’s gone. She passed on a couple months ago.”

  Steve murmured his sympathy. He knew about losing a wife, although his loss was different from this man’s. His wife, Angie, had disappeared. Even though he’d divorced her in absentia, he’d not been given the closure he needed to eventually move on. Instead, he’d been left in a nightmarish limbo.

  A chance existed, although a slim one, that this trip to Colorado would answer the question of what had happened to her. Then he would truly be free.

  He hoped.

  “Don’t think I’ll like the big city,” his seatmate said, stroking his goatee. “I’m used to my place in Clancy. Know where that is?”

  Glad for a diversion from his depressing thoughts, Steve turned his attention to the conversation. “I’ve heard of Clancy,” he said, “but I don’t know anything about it…”

  ****

  As the train slowed on its approach to Red Rock, Molly’s nerves tingled with anticipation. Eager to see some familiar sights, she leaned across Karli to peer out the window. Yes, there sat the red brick station house, and next to it the warehouse with a blue slate roof. In the parking lot, aspen trees planted in circular oases of greenery waved in the breeze.

  Bringing her gaze back to the small crowd gathered on the station’s platform, she searched for her friends, Jackson and Sara Phillips.

  Ah, there they were. Sara had her arm linked through Jackson’s, and he held their three-year-old son, Ryan. Molly’s heart swelled with love. Although she was not blood-related to either Sara or Jackson, they were more like family than the sister and brother-in-law she’d left back in Chicago.

  “Are we there now, Mommy?” Karli asked, her nose pressed against the window.

  Molly took her gaze off the trio outside long enough to bestow a smile on her daughter. “Yes, darlin’, we’re finally there.”

  With a loud squeal of brakes, the train eased to a stop, and soon she and Karli joined Sara, Jackson, and Ryan on the platform. The air, as fresh and dry as she remembered, washed over Molly, and the bright sun and blue sky welcomed her.

  “You’re here at last!” Sara enveloped Molly in a hug then stood back and regarded her at arm’s length. She slowly shook her head. “You haven’t changed a bit in two years.”

  Molly swallowed over the lump in her throat. “You haven’t either, Sara.”

  Tall and slim, Sara always managed to look regal, even in the jeans and blue-checkered, western-style shirt she wore today. Her long, blond hair was tied back in a jaunty ponytail.

  Jackson slipped an arm around Molly’s shoulders. “Good to see you again, Molly.”

  “You, too, Jackson.” She leaned close to plant a kiss on Ryan’s cheek. The toddler had his daddy’s dark hair and his mother’s vivid blue eyes. “Hey, big boy, you’ve grown.”

  “So has Karli.” Sara stooped to eye-level with Karli and clasped the child’s hand. “Do you remember me?”

  “Nuh uh.” Karli shook her head.

  “This is your Aunt Sara, darlin’.” Molly laid a hand on Karli’s shoulder. “And your Uncle Jackson, and your cousin, Ryan.”

  Wide-eyed, Karli gazed up at Jackson. “Mommy says you have horses. Can I ride them?”

  Jackson grinned and ruffled Karli’s hair. “Why, sure. I’ve got one in mind especially for you.”

  “Oh, goody.” Karli jumped up and down.

  Molly clenched her jaw. Considering what happened to Buck, she wasn’t sure she wanted Karli riding horses yet. But now was not the time to discuss the matter. She’d wait until later. She caught Karli’s hand and started toward the station house.

  “Hold it, Molly,” Jackson called out.

  Molly stopped and turned.

  “We’re meeting someone else from the train.” Sara gestured to the passenger car.

  Who could the person be? Molly looked around. As far as she could tell, only a couple with two children and an elderly man had left the train.

  And then her gaze lighted on t
he man who’d found Mr. Muggins. He stood at the other end of the platform, a black briefcase slung over one shoulder, looking around as though he waited for someone. Her throat tightened. Surely, he couldn’t be the one Jackson and Sara were meeting. She didn’t want him to be. He was…dangerous, somehow, although she didn’t know why.

  Her hope vanished when Jackson said, “There he is,” and started toward the same man.

  The other man grinned and stepped forward. His gaze slid from Jackson to Sara and then to Molly and Karli. His eyes widened.

  Sudden heat, which had nothing to do with the bright sun overhead, rushed to Molly’s face.

  Karli jumped up and down. “That’s the man who…”

  “Hush, darlin’.” Molly held up a warning hand.

  Thankfully, Karli quieted.

  Gripping Karli’s hand, Molly hung back while Jackson and the newcomer shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder. Apparently, they were old friends.

  Sara joined them, and Jackson introduced her.

  Jackson turned and gestured to Molly. “Molly, Karli, come meet Steve Roper.”

  Molly allowed herself and Karli a few steps forward, but not enough to be a part of the group. “We, ah, met on the train.”

  “Sort of.” Steve raised his eyebrows and grinned at Molly.

  “You’re the man who found Mr. Muggins.” Karli finally got to say her piece.

  At Jackson’s and Sara’s puzzled looks, Molly offered a brief explanation of the incident with Karli’s doll.

  Steve gazed down at Karli. “I see you’re taking good care of him.”

  “Yes, I am.” Karli clasped the doll to her chest in a tight hug.

  “Steve and I knew each other when I lived in New York,” Jackson explained, referring to the time when he was a Wall Street stock broker. “He designs computer software for businesses, and he has a couple of accounting programs for us. You’re going to install them, right, Steve?”