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Sex had been great. The tender holding each other and the soft jokes and jibing had been great. But it was time to leave.
Saul couldn’t help but fight both arguments going on in his head as he tried to figure out which one would win. Regret that he’d shared sex and body-love with Molly in case she ended up thinking him a jerk for having done her then left her, or pure joy that he’d done everything good with her and she’d wanted him and his body as much as he’d wanted her and every body part she had.
The woman had it all. Softness, endearment, humility, honor—and that hair. He loved how it had gotten tangled in his hands, and mussed up on the pillows. He’d loved it when he’d had to hold it back from her face as it fell like a veil as he held her over him, watching her face and the multitude of expressions as pleasure swept through her.
So why the hell was he leaving?
He fastened his backpack, tightened the straps, and dropped it on the ground at the foot of his single bed.
That one was easy to answer. Because he wouldn’t stay forever, and he’d hurt her. Maybe he’d come back one day, once the memories of such a heightened awareness between them had bled to a fond recollection of one hot night. And there it was—he wasn’t sure he could face her in the future. Especially as she’d undoubtedly be married by then. Some man would walk into Hopeless one day, not knowing why he’d arrived, and he’d take one look at Molly and wham—he’d go for it. Full throttle, all intent.
Saul wouldn’t blame him, whoever the bastard turned out to be, but he’d certainly likely punch him if he ever met him.
So no returning in the future. This was it. He’d lived according to the ranger code for all his adult life, but he had his own code of ethics too, and he wasn’t going to break those just because Molly meant more to him—or pulled at him more—than any other woman he’d met or been with. Rangering was something else he was leaving behind now. He wouldn’t go back to that. He’d move on and open Wilkerness Hiking somewhere.
It was like everything he’d ever done was breaking apart. But that was what moving on meant. Tear up the past, start again, and attempt to mend any previous wrongs along the way of discovery.
He glanced out the French window in his bedroom when the curtain shimmered, although there was no breeze today. The storm had subsided, and the sun had dried most of the sogginess from the earth. After they’d showered, where their tangle had been exhilarating but more passionate than heated, due to both knowing he’d be gone in a few hours, he’d helped Molly brush and sweep both courtyards, clearing them of the dust and debris left in the storm’s wake.
They hadn’t spoken about his imminent departure until half an hour ago.
“I’m walking out, Molly,” he’d said.
She hadn’t paused in her sweeping, but he’d seen a rise in her chest as though her breath had snagged.
“I’ll drive you. Lubbock?” she asked, not looking at him. “Airport?”
Sure, he’d go to Colorado but not now. He’d make things good with his mom, but he had time. He needed to walk now. To walk off the Molly spell. “I don’t know where I’m headed.”
She’d thrown him a smile, and he’d seen it as fake. As courage. “Might take you a while then.”
“I’ll probably go—”
“Actually, I don’t want to know!” she said, interrupting him. “No need for me to know.”
“Okay.” That would be best.
“Tell me what time you’re heading off and I’ll drive you into town at least.”
“It’s not a good idea, Molly.”
She stopped sweeping and gave him her battler’s look.
The impudent grin, the shrug of a shoulder. “No problem for me,” she said. “I’ve got to see Momma anyway. Lots to do before the open day next week. Might as well drop you off in town.”
Saul still couldn’t shake the Molly spell, even now after he’d packed everything up and was ready to go. He reckoned it might be a lifetime’s endeavor. Molly was brave. Unlike himself.
It had hurt him, that brush-it-off attitude of hers earlier as they’d labored together one last time to get the courtyards cleared. Because he saw through it. Their initial antagonism had filtered to respect and friendship as they’d gotten to know each other. But the attraction between them had always been there, right from the start—and he had a feeling her attraction had crossed a river and opened up to an ocean. Of love.
It worried him. It was the reason he was leaving, so he didn’t hurt her badly. Now, he had to wrangle with the possibility that he’d already hurt her more deeply than she’d be able to get over.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered, taking his eyes off the opened window and bringing his mind back to the present. She can’t have fallen for you that hard and fast. Who the hell do you think you are?
He looked back at the window when he heard someone call him. There was no one there and maybe it had been a falsetto yip of a coyote or the call of a bird, but he thought of Alice.
Maybe it was Alice calling him. By whichever means she had to do that, he didn’t feel good about it. As though he was about to be hit on the skull with a baseball bat. She wanted to see him? Okay. It would be rude to ignore the invite. And anyway, he’d like to say his farewell.
He headed out the open French window, across the courtyard and down the driveway, making his way to No Name Road.
Saul pushed aside another branch of willow, ducked beneath a tree limb, and made his way toward the fire pit. He’d been doing a lot more talking in his head on the walk to Alice’s, and he was expecting everything bad. Expecting her admonishment with words like “You never should have come here” and “You asked for what you wanted, and you got it, and then you left it” and “You’re no better than Stirling Birling” and—
“You’re doing a lot of thinking,” Alice said, dislocating Saul from his mental arguments.
She had her back to him. It was likely she’d heard his footsteps in the sandy earth, he wasn’t sneaking up on her, but it was also likely to be some crazy, witch’s inner sense, or psychic something or other. Whatever it was these Mackillop women had. And he really shouldn’t want to know.
He was here to say goodbye, to quash any cowardice some might say he possessed, and also to ask her a few questions he wanted answers to before he walked out of the valley.
He arrived at the fire pit and didn’t want to sit, but since Alice was sitting, crossed legged, it would appear challenging and overbearing if he towered over her. So he sat. He pulled up his legs, laced his fingers together and rested his forearms on his knees.
“So why me?” he asked, getting right in. “Did you find me a decade ago? Six years ago? Did you call me here?”
Alice looked up at the sky. “That sky is a beautiful, freshened blue today isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he agreed, and waited.
“Come nightfall,” Alice said, “that sky will be speckled with stars. I like watching them move.”
“You can see them move?” Maybe she meant shooting stars.
“Sometimes one stands out from the others,” she continued, “whether they’re meant to or not. Sometimes two stand out.” She turned her head to look at him. “All I saw was two people who were meant to shine with the same rays from the one star. But they were going in the wrong directions, because neither could see the mistakes they were making with their choices.” Her eyes were clear, like a much younger woman’s. “I didn’t know you. I got to know you over the years, but I didn’t ask to. I never ask. I don’t need to. Things find me.”
“Two stars? Me and Molly? You mean we’re meant to be together?” He’d never believed her when she said they weren’t right for each other, but being right meant he’d have to stay, and he wasn’t the staying kind.
“I’m just passing the messages. Up to you if you want to hear them or not.”
“You have to be the most infuriating person I’ve ever met, Alice.”
She chuckled.
“I’m going for a long walk. After which, I’ll head back to Colorado. I’ll see my mom and...we’ll see what happens. I intend to stay in Colorado and start my own hiking business, because once I’ve walked off this frustration—” It wasn’t frustration it was some kind of fear. He didn’t want to tell Alice about what frightened the life out of him though, because he didn’t know what it was himself. “Just don’t go saying I don’t stick around and finalize whatever needs to be sorted,” he said instead.
“I didn’t say a word,” Alice informed him quietly.
“I can see by the look on your face you don’t believe me. Or something,” he added.
“It’s the or something.”
“Oh, come on, Alice. Stop this.” He shifted slightly so he could see her better. “What am I doing wrong now?”
Alice laughed. “You’ll do what you have to do. Nothing I can say will change that.”
“So why are you laughing?”
“Because I know what you’re going to do.”
“That’s because I just told you!” Saul sighed and turned from her, leaning his forearms on his knees, his hands hanging. “This is too much, Alice. This is just—too much.” What the hell did she want him to do, for crying out loud?
Molly waited by the door to the lodge house, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, a smile on her face as Saul got closer. She’d watched for him for the last half hour once she’d realized he wasn’t in the hacienda grounds.
“You’ve been to see Alice,” she said. She didn’t need to make it a question, it was likely where he’d been.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Another quick smile as she unfolded her arms and pulled the pickup keys from the back pocket of her jeans. “So grab your backpack and we’ll head into Hopeless. I promised I’d be there by midday. Presume that’s all right with you?” she added with a raise of her eyebrow.
She was still smiling. It was now stuck to her face like glue attracted glitter. But she was making a stand. Probably the last one she’d have to endure because nothing would ever be as hard as this.
“Let me walk.”
She shook her head. “No way. I’m a good employer, I give lifts to my contractors.” She headed for the pickup. “Anyway, I told you. I have to pop into the salon. There’s lots to organize for next week’s open day. It’s all go. I am going to be so busy I won’t know what’s hit me.”
Considering she was dodging the whole issue of never seeing him again by covering her sensitivity to that with a gung-ho, all-is-well attitude, she didn’t think she was doing too badly. Just look at her smile. She wasn’t even shaking yet, and neither would she. Not until this had been done and she’d turned the pickup for home. She had no intention of stopping off in town to see anyone. She didn’t want them to witness her complete breakdown.
Twenty-five minutes later, she drove into town. “Wow,” she said. It was the first spoken word in the pickup since Saul had thrown his backpack onto the tray and seated himself in the passenger seat.
“Who are they?” Saul asked.
“No idea. Never seen them before.”
“Must be here for a look before the open day.”
“Maybe.” A family of four was sitting on one of the picnic tables Saul had knocked up, eating a Hopeless sponge cake from paper plates.
Another group pottered around the co-op market fruit and vegetable table. A couple were sauntering out of the takeout with coffee, and a group of young people were sitting on the sidewalk outside Davie’s art shop.
Molly pulled the pickup over at her end of Hopeless Main Street—not the end he’d walk out.
The air in the cab got really heavy as she gripped the steering wheel and Saul stared ahead. Then he got out.
Molly waited a second, taking a breath and steadying herself. She couldn’t just sit here as he walked away. She got out too, but left the door open and her hand on the door.
“So this is it,” she said with a smile. “Our fond farewell.” She cleared her throat. “I’d just like to say—”
His hand shot out and covered hers. “Don’t say anything.”
She met his eyes and sadness engulfed her. She forced it away. “Probably best,” she agreed.
“It’s just the better way to handle this.”
She should never have driven him into town. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t cope with this. “So long then. Be good.”
He stared at her for a long time. “You know what I’d say, don’t you?” he asked. “If we’d had that fond farewell conversation.”
“Sure I do.” She didn’t have a clue.
What would he say? Thanks for the sex? No—she admonished herself for that. It wasn’t who he was. He couldn’t stay. He was protecting her by not allowing the fond farewell. He knew she’d fall for him—if he didn’t already know that she’d fallen head first into the pit of eternal love.
“So there’s no need for us to say it,” he said, although there was a query in his voice, as though he was checking that this was okay for her.
“No need. Thank you.” She had to at least say that.
He stuck his hand inside a thigh pocket in his hiking pants. “Here,” he said, and handed her an envelope. “This is yours.”
She took it, opened it and gave a little gasp. “No,” she said, closing the flap and holding the envelope out to him. “Don’t do this.”
“I just did it. I don’t need that money.”
“I wasn’t even paying you a going rate, Saul. Please take it back.”
He shook his head. “You do something good with that money. Do something for the town. Go buy those two computers you were talking about getting for the book swap place.”
“It’s a library.”
He smiled. “My bad. The library.”
He took her hand and squeezed, closing her fingers around the two thousand dollars she’d paid him for building her roof. “Take it. It’s not mine. It’s yours.”
I can’t do this! Her eyes stung. She turned from him so she could regroup for a second, and looked straight into the eyes of a cop.
“Molly Mackillop?” he asked.
Molly nodded, a bad feeling hitting her in the stomach.
“Deputy Carl Lewis, Randall County Sheriff’s office. Need a word with you.” He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. “Do you own, or have you ever seen, this ring?”
Molly took the paper, scanned it. It was a photograph of her engagement ring. “It’s mine,” she said, handing the paper back. “But it’s not mine, if you know what I mean.”
“Not sure I do know what you mean, ma’am. Are you in possession of this piece of jewelry?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so. But it’s possible I am.” Given what Alice had said.
“You’re not making much sense,” the deputy said. “Want to expound on that? Do you have it or not?”
“What’s the problem?” Saul asked, stepping to Molly’s side.
“Who are you?” Deputy Lewis said. “Family?”
“No.”
“Sorry, buddy. You need to back off. Miss Mackillop, is there somewhere you and I can have a chat?”
Deputy Lewis looked at Molly, his focus intent and expression neutral, and for the first time in her life, Molly knew exactly what was going to happen next.
