The Cowboy Who Caught Her Eye (8 page)

Footsteps on the porch had him glancing up. A cowboy strolled in, all smiles and swank, and there wasn’t a single thing Carter liked about what he saw.

“Afternoon,” the newcomer said, glancing around. “Had me a cinnamon roll here a few months back, served up by a cute little blonde. Thought I’d have me another one.”

Carter’s frustration hit a boiling point, and he rounded the counter, one hand hovering over the gun strapped to his hip. “How many months ago?”

“You’re new here,” the man said.

Carter kept moving forward. “How many months ago?”

The other man drooped slightly, took a step backward. “Two.”

“And before that?” Carter asked, backing the man across the room.

“Never. I just started out at the Triple J two months ago.”

“We’re all out of cinnamon rolls,” Carter said directly.

The stranger nodded, then spun and shot out the door.

Carter let out a growl. He’d never been so obsessed that he questioned every person he encountered. When he turned around, Karleen stood in the doorway. “How is she?” he asked, keeping his tone even. He could hope Karleen hadn’t just witnessed his behavior, but that would be useless, about as useless as her not picking up how concerned he was about Molly.

“Sleeping.” Eyeing him, Karleen walked behind the counter, picked up her book again.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“In the middle of the afternoon?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, but it’s not like Molly.” Frustrated, Carter glanced toward the doorway. His gut feeling just wouldn’t let this one go.

“Go check for yourself,” Karleen said. “First door on the left.”

After he looked out the front door, made sure no one was coming down the road or lurking about, he crossed the store, telling Karleen, “I’ll be right back.”

He took the stairs two at a time. Molly was sleeping, lying on her side with her head on a pillow. Quietly, he backed out of the room, pulling the door closed.

“Satisfied?” Karleen asked when he entered the store minutes later.

He nodded, a touch startled by the heat in his cheeks. These women were driving him mad. He’d just chased away a customer, and before that he’d irritated the railroad enough to increase their stance against Molly. His being here was putting the sisters in more danger than his protection was offering.

“So where did you go this afternoon?” Karleen asked, setting her book on the counter.

“I’ll tell you at supper.” He’d almost forgotten about his accomplishment today. The meeting with Wilcox had caused the thrill to die. “It’s a surprise,” he added, mainly because of the curiosity on her face.

“Do you do this all the time, Carter?”

“Do what?”

“Get so involved with the people you work for?”

A chill creeped around the top of his spine.

“Don’t get me wrong, we like you. You’ve been great for business, but...”

Carter moved to the window, gazing through the glass without looking at anything. Taught to do so, as part of his job, he was used to jumping in, taking control of the situation, but he usually didn’t get this involved. Actually never had, and he wasn’t overly sure why he was this time. “But what?” he asked.

“Well, you remind me of my father.”

“I’ve never been anyone’s father, Karleen, and I don’t intend to be.”

“Ever?” she asked. “Don’t you want a family? A wife to live on that ranch in Montana with you? A son to inherit it?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

Over the years he’d came up with a thousand reasons why he liked being alone, and he turned around, figuring one would form before he opened his mouth, but it didn’t. Not because of Karleen, but because of Molly, who was standing in the doorway. Of their own accord his eyes went to her stomach. He could never be a father because he didn’t have the faintest idea as to how to be one, and unlike the Pinkerton agency, there was no manual to teach him how. Besides, being a Pinkerton man wasn’t the safest job. He knew what it was like to grow up without parents, he didn’t want that kind of responsibility—that of leaving others in his wake.

Truth was, the only child he’d ever met that he hadn’t minded was Ivy. The one growing in Molly’s belly might be all right, too. She had a way of making kids behave, Ivy was proof of that.

But he wouldn’t be around to meet her baby. Most likely he would be in Montana by then. Not liking the notion of that, Carter pulled his eyes off her bump, but they had their own agenda and moved upward, where they caught Molly’s gaze.

Only for a moment, though, because she spun around and disappeared.

* * *

Molly had never known simply breathing could be so hard. Air wouldn’t catch in her lungs, and when little snippets did, they burnt, making her huff them out, and her very being trembled like she’d never known.

She’d been right in imagining Carter had a way of knowing her secrets. It was impossible, and there was no way he could know, yet he did.

Turning, Molly paced the length of her room on wobbly legs, only to once more stop at the window that overlooked the barn.

He knew she was pregnant. His eyes had said so.

How?

Molly crossed her arms, hugging herself as if that could protect her. She’d had a bad feeling about Carter Buchanan from the beginning, since the moment she realized he was the cowboy on the palomino.

He had to leave, that’s all there was to it.

Now.

Before he told someone.

“You are awake.”

Molly didn’t turn around or reply, just wished Karleen would leave, give her time to think. Carter was so stubborn she was going to need a plan. Just telling him wouldn’t work—she’d tried.

Karleen didn’t leave, either; instead she asked, “Were you downstairs a few minutes ago? I thought I heard someone on the stairs.”

Instead of answering, Molly asked, “Where’s Carter going?” He’d gone into the barn a short time ago and was now leading Sampson out the door, saddled. The sight tore at something raw inside her.

“He said he was going to take a ride after he was finally convinced you were sleeping,” Karleen said. “He didn’t believe me, had to check for himself. He didn’t wake you, did he?”

Molly had heard Karleen, and moments later, Carter, open her door. Each time she’d kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Her nap had been over some time ago, but she hadn’t been ready to face anyone. If she were smart, she’d have remained in her room rather than following him down the stairs. Then she wouldn’t have heard the conversation between him and her sister.

But she wasn’t smart. She’d followed, and stood there, waiting, wanting to know his answer. When he’d turned, his eyes had instantly gone to her belly, and that had been the moment she’d known he knew. Even before he’d glanced up.

Swallowing before her throat plugged, Molly turned away from the window. Carter was out of sight. She’d watched until he was, not so unlike that first day, except then she’d been dreaming of the palomino.

“No, he didn’t wake me. Maybe he’s leaving.” She walked to the door, head up, acting as if she’d be happy if that’s what he was doing. It was exactly what she wanted. “Found a different job, or heading for Montana.”

“He’s not leaving,” Karleen insisted, following her down the stairs.

“How do you know that?”

“Because that wouldn’t be Carter.”

Molly didn’t slow when they reached the bottom. Keeping up her momentum, she marched her way down the hall and into the store. “How do you know? He’s only been here a few days. You can’t know what he will or won’t do.”

“Yes, I can. Carter will give us plenty of advance warning long before he leaves.” Karleen opened the cash drawer. “You know it, too. You’re just too grumpy to admit it.”

It was a challenge to keep from glaring at her sister. If Karleen was as old as she tried to act, this would all be so much easier. Molly could just leave and put Karleen in charge of the store. She’d claim she’d met someone, and go someplace to have her baby. Then, in a few years, she could return and pretend her husband had died.

It was a good plan, but Karleen and Ivy were too young to be left behind, and Molly could never abandon her sisters. Not to mention that Karleen was too smart for that. She’d never believe such a tale.

Molly walked to the door and grabbed the handle, which wouldn’t budge. “Why is the door locked?”

“Because I closed the store. We haven’t had any customers all afternoon, and it’s almost time for supper.” Holding up a few bills, Karleen asked, “Do you want to hide this tonight, or do you want me to?”

Molly had no idea what she wanted, nor did she care who hid the money. “You can, I’ll start supper.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like what?” Molly asked.

“No argument?”

“I never argue over cooking supper.”

“No, I mean my decision to close early?” Karleen stepped from behind the counter, blocking Molly’s path to the kitchen.

“We’ve done it before,” she said.

“Yes, we have,” Karleen agreed. “But not for months. Carter told me to lock up early.”

Molly should be irritated by that. He had no right, but the fight was slipping out of her. “There’s no use keeping the doors open when there aren’t any customers.”

“Glory be,” Karleen said, reaching out and wrapping both arms around Molly’s shoulders. “I do believe my sister still is in there somewhere.”

The hug felt good, too good to ignore, and Molly returned it with one just as solid. “I’m sorry,” she said while they were still arm in arm. The apology was real, she was sorry for so many things. “I guess the workload has been getting to me lately.” Knowing just how hard her sister worked, too, she added, “Getting to both of us.”

“And Carter has lightened it,” Karleen said. “For both of us.”

Molly remained silent. He had done a lot of work lately, but that hadn’t made things easier. She was still pregnant. The railroad still wanted the store.

They parted, but Karleen kept one arm looped around Molly’s shoulders. “Now if I can just get you to wear some of your old clothes.”

“I like my dresses,” Molly lied. “They are much more comfortable than—” she waved a hand at the tight waist and fitted bodice of Karleen’s lavender dress “—all those buttons and stays.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Karleen said, “but they make you look so frumpy. Like you stuck your head through an old sheet hanging on the line and then threw an apron over it.”

The two of them used to giggle and laugh a lot, several times a day no matter how bleak things had looked, and Molly didn’t realize until this very moment how much she missed it. Her laughter died as abruptly as it had formed, leaving her overly weepy inside. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too,” Karleen said, still smiling brightly. “And always will, no matter how frumpy you look.” Her sister spun around then, grabbing both of Molly’s upper arms. “Do you want to know a secret?”

No, she had enough to last a lifetime. But trying her best to wear a smile, she nodded.

“I hope Carter never leaves.”

Ice crystals formed in Molly’s veins. She no longer worried about Carter’s interest in her sister, but hadn’t spent much time worrying about the opposite. “Karleen, you—” she had to swallow “—you aren’t...”

“Falling in love with him?”

The massive smile on Karleen’s face was like a butcher knife, yet Molly managed to nod, though she was bleeding to death. She couldn’t handle one more twist of fate.

“No.” Karleen laughed extra loud. “But I do like him. He reminds me so much of Papa. Which is why I hope he stays.”

A small amount of relief had Molly’s blood flowing as it should, her heart back to beating regularly.

“Surely you’ve noticed how organized he is, not to mention how authoritative. He’s rearranged the store and he has all the things men are looking for right where they can see them instead of having us point them out. He makes everyone pay full price no matter how much complaining they do—and they don’t complain to him. Why, he even had Mr. Wilcox guarantee our shipments will arrive on time. Papa hadn’t even managed that. If anyone can, Carter will be the one to stop the railroad from putting us out of business.” Karleen spun around and walked to a cupboard where she hid the money, now somewhat crumpled, inside an extra pitcher.

When her sister turned back around, she sighed dreamily. “Think about it, Molly. With Carter running the mercantile, we can have a life of leisure. The kind we used to know.” Walking forward, still smiling, eyes somewhat glassy, Karleen continued, “You can go riding again, I can read until I’m blurry-eyed and we will both have time to try our hand at courting.”

The baby chose that moment to move, making Molly freeze. Karleen had stopped walking, and she too looked starched stiff, as if she’d said something she hadn’t meant to. Molly willed herself to breathe, not let anything show. Neither the baby, nor just how naive and young Karleen still was.

Lifting her chin slightly, Molly forced a smile to reappear, and because she truly wanted to know, she asked, “Is there someone you want to have court you?”

Karleen’s sigh wasn’t audible, but Molly saw it. “Not right now,” her sister said. “I promised you I wouldn’t think seriously about marriage until I’m eighteen, and I’ll keep that promise,” Karleen said resolutely. “Because it takes both of us to keep this place running.”

The weight on Molly’s shoulders increased tenfold.

“But, when I am eighteen, and Carter has this place running as well as Papa had it...” Karleen paused as a grin returned to her face. “I will take J.T. more seriously.”

A year from now things would be worse. The railroad might own the store. Once her condition was revealed, the entire town would shun them—including J.T. and his entire family. Therefore supporting the hope in her sister’s eyes was impossible.

“J.T. Walters is just a boy,” Molly snapped. “Neither of you have any idea as to the responsibility marriage brings.”

Karleen frowned. “And you do?”

“Of course I do.” Molly stomped across the room, but not so far she didn’t hear her sister mumble. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Yes, you did.”