Twilight in Texas (10 page)

A man named Wolf had walked, or rather crashed, into her life. He was no gentleman. Not like the fine ones who flirted with her back home. But there was a gentleness about him that touched her as none of them ever could. He would never be her love. He’d always be her friend, though, and for her, that would be enough. He wasn’t much to look at, but she felt no shame with him at her side.

Molly closed her eyes. Maybe she married him for protection. Maybe because she didn’t want to be an old maid like her two aunts, who wrote of their pets as if they were children. Or maybe, for once, something just felt right without explanation. Marrying Wolf felt right.

This could be the best of both worlds. She could still have her dreams of Benjamin and his perfect love in her imagination, and she’d have Wolf as a friend in her reality. She could trust him. Any man who settled for a hug on his wedding day was not interested in her as a woman. He had his life. She had hers. With the marriage, their worlds crossed nicely, without friction or complication. His name would give her protection, and she, in turn, offered him a base to return to.

Molly jerked suddenly and realized she’d fallen asleep in the chair. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but her back ached and her shoulder tingled with numbness from leaning into the wall.

She stretched and moved silently out of Callie Ann’s room and down the stairs. Wolf waited for her in the kitchen. His empty coffee cup and papers covered the table.

“I thought you’d turned in,” he said as he rubbed his eyes.

“I just came to say good night and make sure you got settled.” She glanced at the few bags in one corner, wanting to ask if that was all he had, but knowing it must be. “Was your landlord surprised when you picked up your things?”

“Granny Gravy?” Wolf laughed. “She hugged me then scolded me for never bringing you by for supper. Seems she thinks the least I should have done was introduce you to her before I married you.”

“The two of you were close?”

Wolf winked. “Jealous wife already?”

“Oh no.” Molly felt her face redden before she realized he was kidding. “I just wondered.”

“I’ve stored my gear there for two years, but I doubt I’ve spent more than two weeks beneath her roof. I think she’ll miss the steady money more than me. She’s a nosy old bag, but there’s a good heart in there somewhere. I imagine she’d come through if you needed a friend.”

He refilled his cup and changed the subject. “I thought I’d sleep on the floor in the front tonight. Just in case anyone plans to make a midnight call.” He pointed to where he’d spread a bedroll that looked to be made of hides. “Tomorrow, I’ll help you clean out Ephraim’s room, but I don’t know how long I’ll be in town. Several of the young rangers have already headed for the border to fight off trouble brewing there.”

Molly poured herself less than half a cup of coffee, then added milk. Without a word, she sat in the other chair. The small room seemed tiny with Wolf’s bulk beside her. She pulled her journal from between the flour tin and the salt shaker. Every night, without fail, she wrote in her journal, as she had since she was a child.

Before she could start writing, Wolf pushed a paper across the table. “I made a list of those I think of as family. It’s not very long. I’d appreciate you notifying them if something happens to me since, I guess, legally, you’re now my next of kin.”

Wolf studied the other papers. “These are statements from a handful of banks. Over the past few years, I’ve opened small accounts here and there so I could have money on the road if I needed it. I’ve already written notes informing them you’re to be given whatever is in the accounts if you ask.”

Molly stared in disbelief. “Captain, you don’t have to do this.” All she’d expected was his name in the bargain they’d made, nothing more. “I don’t expect you to support me. I can take care of myself.”

“I guessed you’d say that, but the money is there if you need it. I want this completed tonight. In my line of work, a man never knows how long he’ll live. I’ll not leave a wife owing for my funeral…even a wife in name only.”

“But surely you have someone else?”

Wolf shook his head. “No one. My sister in Fort Worth has her hands full with two little ones. My friends, the McLains, would have taken care of things. Even after I’m gone, they’ll stand beside you if you have any trouble. But should something happen to me, I’d appreciate you making any arrangements.”

He said the words directly, without emotion. Molly felt the loneliness in his statement. Some folks might have thought him cold to be organizing his affairs on what was his wedding night, but Molly understood. He was trying. He knew she was a woman of order. He wanted to leave his books the same. But judging from the stains and wrinkles on most of the papers, order was not one of his strong traits.

“Can I help?” she asked, realizing he was doing all this for her, just in case something happened to him.

Within a few minutes, they had their heads together, adding up numbers and trying to figure out where some of the small towns were that he’d left money. Compared to many she’d known back East, Wolf Hayward had very little, but he was solid. He had enough to handle anything life might toss his
way.

His willingness to give her all he had worked for over the past four years overwhelmed her. She could write him a draft for ten times that much from her bank in Philadelphia and it would not be nearly as great a gift.

As she figured the last list of accounts, he leaned close, sliding his arm along the back of her chair. The action was natural. Something most couples wouldn’t even notice. But Molly felt the warmth of his arm. She had to start over twice, for her mind kept wishing he would pull her an inch closer into his embrace and just hold her.

She’d always been so proper, so distant no man had ever just grabbed her and hugged her. Even her father held her gently as if she might break if he embraced her. His almost hugs and her aunts’ air kisses near her cheek were all she’d ever known growing up. She’d already learned this man she married knew how to hug.

But of course he didn’t hug her now. She’d been clear. She wanted only his name.

His nearness made her relax, and the worry she felt earlier slipped away. When he finally stacked the papers neatly into a tin box, dropped their marriage license on top, and locked it, they both felt that all was in order.

He handed her the key. “Put this in a safe place, Molly. I’ll store the box under my bed once we get it built.”

While she put the key in a tiny drawer on the kitchen shelf, he stood, almost knocking the chair over. “I’ll be saying good night now.” He straightened the chair but didn’t look at her.

She turned to face him. With his coat and vest off, she could see that the man she married was as solid as his accounts. He certainly wasn’t a man who dressed to impress anyone. Somehow his clothes fit him and the life he lived. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like in a suit, all shaved and trimmed.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For helping me out. I think no matter what, married or not, we’ll always be friends.”

“But never lovers.” His foot had caught the corner of the table, and he mumbled the words as he stumbled forward.

His face was unreadable. His eyes didn’t meet hers. Yet his statement surprised her, caught her off guard, for she hadn’t thought of it and was shocked he had.

“No.” She tried to keep her voice just as level, just as unreadable. “Never lovers. I gave my heart once. Once was enough.”

“Did he hurt you so badly?” Wolf kept his head low as if he knew he were prying, yet couldn’t help asking.

“No,” she answered as she moved toward the stairs. Now it was her turn to look away and not meet his eyes. “He just never returned as he promised he would. But a part of me still loves him, and there is no room for another. A part of me will always belong to Benjamin.”

She hurried up the steps before he could see her tears. Molly hadn’t said Benjamin’s name out loud in years. She thought the pain would have grown dull, but it still stabbed her heart. To try to explain would only make matters worse. Wolf would think her a fool for loving a man she’d only met once, for staking her life on a promise and a kiss, for believing a stranger.

Undressing quickly, Molly slipped into bed and snuggled under the covers, not for warmth, but to feel somehow surrounded and not so alone. As she twisted, the quilts held her, hid her, buffered her from the world. A world that had shattered around her feet in one day. A world where her only friend for thousands of miles was probably downstairs thinking he’d just married the craziest woman west of the
Mississippi.

Wolf stood rooted to the floor as he heard her moving above him. His huge fists formed tight white-knuckled balls, but he didn’t take a step. Every part of him wanted to climb the stairs and tell Molly who he really was. But he stood, listening to his own heart pound and calling himself every kind of fool.

His new wife had just told him she was still in love with another man—him.

W
OLF DIDN’T BOTHER TO CLOSE HIS EYES
most of the night. Molly, his Molly, was one floor up. She might as well still be back East. He’d married her, but she had made it plain he would never hold her. He would never sleep beside her. Never make love to her.

He watched the sun lighten the street outside on Congress Avenue and wondered how he could make it through another day without touching her. Another night without holding her. He’d never longed for any woman but Molly. She was the one in all his dreams and the few hopes he’d allowed himself to have over the years. Even during the war, when he was young and hot-blooded, he’d preferred a dream of her to the reality of an unknown woman beside him.

Now she was close, so close, but she might as well still be the dream, for she would not be filling his arms.

By the time he heard her moving about in the drugstore, he’d rolled up his bed and wandered into the kitchen looking for coffee.

She stepped into the tiny room. He nodded a greeting and tried not to react to her nearness. She was all proper and dressed in black. Her cheeks were rosy, as though she’d just returned from a morning ride in the dawn mist. He, on the other hand, figured he looked more like a Pony Express horse who had just pulled a double shift.

She said something about making breakfast. He circled past her to go wash up. She offered her room, but he said he’d feel more comfortable out back at the washstand Ephraim had set up on the porch.

In truth, Wolf didn’t know if he could be in Molly’s room with all her things surrounding him. The smell of the rose soap she used must linger in the air. He’d have to touch her clothes that always felt freshly starched and sunshine bleached. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself from running his fingers over the pillow where she slept. He’d go mad.

“The washstand out back,” he mumbled again as if he hadn’t heard himself before.

The alley was deserted and already hot. Half of the porch was crowded with boxes, but the washstand was tidy and fully stocked.

Wolf stripped down to his trousers and washed in a bucket of cold water. He combed his hair, knowing that, within minutes, the natural curl would remove any order to it. With the scissors he found cradled in leather he cut another inch off his beard. It now hugged his jawline in a thick bush.

As he cleaned his teeth, Charlie Filmore slid from beneath Miller’s disorderly pile of wood twenty feet away and staggered to the edge of the porch. Thanks to Wolf he’d finished a whole bottle last night. “Morning,” he mumbled, staring up at Wolf.

“Morning.” Wolf watched him in the shaving mirror. He could smell the man from three feet away. Charlie had that aged ripeness of a dirty saloon floor.

Charlie stuck his tongue out and wiped his face with the back of his hand, reminding Wolf of a stray cat grooming. “How’s married life treating you, Captain?”

“Fine,” Wolf grumbled. Charlie Filmore was even uglier in daylight than at night. The wrinkles in his bullet-marked face were caked with dirt. His attempt at grooming only smeared the dirt around.

Wolf glanced back at the small mirror reflecting his own face. Compared to Charlie, Wolf didn’t think he looked so bad. He scratched his beard and tried to remember what he looked like clean-shaven. “Want to earn four bits?” he asked Charlie as he put the mirror down.

“I might if the work’s not hard.” Charlie raised an eyebrow, sending his face into a new collection of creases. “If you need something, anything, I can get it if you got the money. I know what’s in every storage shed in this town.”

Wolf tossed him a half dollar. “All you have to do is what comes natural to you. Let everyone you see today know that I married the lady last night.”

Charlie grinned. “I’ll do that. But you could have saved your money. Preacher Ford has probably told half the town by now.” He winked. “That bride of yours cooking breakfast?”

Wolf nodded, hoping Charlie didn’t plan on inviting himself. He wanted to spend what little time he had left in town with Molly, not trying to avoid looking at Charlie Filmore head on.

“Well then, I’ll be moving along. Her friend Ephraim cooked like an old army sergeant I once had. He could burn water and sour sugar. We never had a meal that we didn’t lose at least one man to stomach pains for the night. We’d line up for grub, starting at the back. Last man to check in had to eat first. If he started showing signs of turning green, the boys at the end of the line usually lost their appetites.”