Louise Gouge - A Family For The Rancher

CHAPTER THREE

The next two days passed by in a blur for Molly. Ned had not returned. In an attempt to distract the twins from missing their father, she’d kept them busy and on a relatively tight schedule. Her efforts proved successful, mostly. Apart from a few tears and a lot of questions, Anna and Sarah seemed to be taking their new situation in stride.

That said a lot about CJ and his determination to step into Ned’s shoes.

Of course, it was early days yet. It was clear CJ wasn’t settling into his new role as a father smoothly. Every morning, when Molly arrived at the Triple-T ranch, he would be waiting for her at the door, looking both harried and vastly relieved to see her.

His discomfort was to be expected. He was completely out of his element with the girls. However, like any Texas cowboy worthy of the name, he was tackling the challenge head-on. Oh, he was still tentative around the twins and they weren’t exactly comfortable around him, either. Which begged the question, why had he given Molly the day off?

With an impatient shove, she secured the final pin in her hair and stepped away from the mirror. Dressed and ready for Sunday service, she moved to the window and stared out across the front yard of her family’s ranch. The sun had already risen, splashing golden fingers of light across the pink-tinted sky.

She should be atop Sadie’s back by now, heading over to the Triple-T to help CJ with the girls. He’d insisted she spend the Sabbath with her own family. No amount of arguing had swayed him. He was one stubborn, thoughtful, kind man.

Sighing, she placed her palm against the warm glass. She wished CJ would talk to her about Ned. Molly knew he suffered. She often caught the secret pain in his eyes, when he didn’t know she was looking. He clearly blamed himself.

Even without saying the words aloud, they both knew Ned’s leaving could very well be permanent. Awarding CJ custody of the twins made his intentions clear. Molly had no idea if a hand-scribbled note was the same as a legal document. But Ned’s actions had a feeling of finality to them.

It had been only three days, she told herself. There was still reason to hope. No matter how sad he appeared on the outside, Ned always pulled himself together enough to attend Sunday worship with his daughters. Maybe he would return today.

Ned had his faults, but even at the worst of times he’d been a committed churchgoer. Molly hated thinking any man, especially a believing Christian, could abandon his own children, but if Ned stayed gone…

Lord, please bring him home this morning.

Molly pushed away from the window and nudged her sister’s shoulder.

A muffled groan was Daisy’s only response.

Shaking her head, Molly poked the girl’s shoulder with a bit more force.

She received yet another feminine groan, followed by a muffled, “Go away.”

“Mama won’t hold breakfast for you,” she warned.

More mumbling.

“Fine. You’re on your own.” Mildly frustrated, yet still loving her sister dearly, Molly left the room with a little more noise than necessary.

The rest of her family was already seated around the breakfast table. Molly’s three younger brothers alternated between passing platters of food and shoveling impressively large bites into their mouths. Boys .

It amazed her how much her brothers had grown in the years she’d been married to George. All three were good-looking and had the Carson blond hair. The younger two, Donny and Roy, had their father’s hazel eyes, while Thomas’s were deep brown.

Smiling fondly at each of them, Molly took her seat beside Roy. At twelve, he was inquisitive and seemed to be always taking things apart. Donny was the talker. Thomas was the calmest and most logical of the three. At fourteen, he was also the most mature.

As they did nearly every Sunday morning, Roy and Donny debated which one of them would ride old Walker into town and which would have to sit in the bed of the wagon.

“It’s my turn.” Donny’s voice held more whine than reason.

Roy begged to differ, loudly, and with equal amounts of whining. The heated discussion continued another fifteen seconds before their father put an end to it.

“Thomas is the oldest,” he said. “He’ll ride Walker. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

He pointed to their plates. Once they obeyed his command, he turned toward Molly. “I trust you slept well.”

“I did, thank you.” Actually, she’d tossed and turned most of the night. But there was no reason to upset her father.

Or her mother, who was eyeing her with her usual worried scowl. Keeping her own expression bland, Molly took the platter of cured ham from Roy and concentrated on eating her breakfast.

Conversation turned to the ice-cream social after service. Apparently, Mercy Green, owner of Mercy’s Café, was supplying the ingredients.

Laughter soon replaced dissent among her brothers. It was a lovely, boisterous sound that represented the very heart of family. Head down, Molly took a few calming breaths.

She loved her parents and siblings, and was happy to be home, but she desperately wanted her own family. Despite what she’d said to CJ, she wanted to be a wife again and run her own household.

George had been a good husband, handsome, kind and dedicated to the Lord. During the first year of their marriage, his devotion to Molly had been above reproach. But the longer she’d gone without conceiving, the more distant he’d become.

The pressure to bear a child had taken over every part of their life together. Instead of bonding them closer, their mutual frustration had put a wedge between them. With every month that passed, and no baby on the way, Molly’s life had grown a little less happy, a little less joyful.

Her eyes stung with remembered pain, from the loss of hope and the certainty that she was a failure as a wife. And as a woman.

“Molly?” Her mother’s hand covered hers. “Are you unwell?”

“No.” She put on a brave face and slowly lifted her head. “I was just thinking about…George.”

Helen Carson’s eyes softened. Molly was saved from further questioning when Daisy rushed into the room, her words tumbling out faster than her footsteps.

“I’m not late.” She hopped to the empty chair at the table with one shoe on her foot, the other dangling in her hand. “I’m merely running a bit behind.”

“ A bit behind ?” Releasing her grip on Molly, Helen Carson sat back in her chair and turned her full attention to her other daughter. “Is that what we’re now calling your proclivity to oversleep?”

Daisy opened her mouth, presumably to defend herself, but wisely shut it again.

Even with Daisy’s tardiness, the Carson brood set out for town with plenty of time to complete the two-mile journey before service started. Thomas did indeed receive the honor of riding Walker. The younger boys piled into the back of the wagon. Helen and John Carson took the front seat. Molly and Daisy settled on the smaller bench behind them.

Before they were even off Carson land, her parents leaned in close, their heads bent together in quiet conversation. Watching them brought Molly another wave of unexpected yearning. Even after twenty-five years of marriage, and the challenges of building one of the largest working ranches in central Texas, they were still very much in love.

It was quite lovely to witness. And utterly depressing.

Molly despaired of ever finding that kind of happiness. She’d had her chance at marriage and had failed miserably. What man would want her now? She was a barren, twenty-three-year-old widow living on her family’s ranch.

From a distance, the town of Little Horn beckoned. Welcoming the distraction, Molly studied the small settlement, which had been incorporated two years ago.