Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(22)

Molly looked at the gentle snow swirling down around the tombstones. It was like her dream of independence was blowing away with the dispersing church members. It was October, and winter was as good as here. It would be her first winter in Wyoming, and the rumors of blizzards and bitter cold were frightening.

“If two of the twelve are out, or soon to be, what about the other ten?”

“There are four families here in town.” Mrs. Brownley’s voice dropped again, though there was no one near. “Someone started talk of your—your, um . . . character, I’m afraid.”

She looked into Molly’s eyes. Only kindness there.

“My character?” A chill that had nothing to do with the icy breeze slithered down Molly’s spine. She thought of how her parents had died and knew if that was being bandied about, then the talk was fair. But no one knew that. No one except Kevin, and Win knew some of it. Well, in truth, Kevin only knew some of it.

“I’m not sure where the talk started, but of course everyone knows of the odd business with the RHR and Clovis Hunt’s will. There’s talk of you having an improper, um . . . well, uh, connection to that business.”

The reason she got fired in Wheatfield, Kansas. Or close enough. Clovis Hunt was here to ruin her life once again.

“But it was my ma and Clovis’s marriage that wasn’t proper. What’s more, my ma had no idea of such. She trusted Clovis. When she heard he’d died, Ma remarried. But the fact that he was already married when he wed her meant her first marriage wasn’t legal and her second one was. My birth is perfectly proper.”

Mrs. Brownley had her hands clutched together, pressed to her chest, as if she were begging Molly not to be upset. Or maybe it was an attitude of prayer.

“Two of the larger families said they won’t be a part of the school when a scandal follows the teacher across hundreds of miles.”

She should have been able to leave it behind, Molly thought grimly. And maybe she would have if they hadn’t come straight to Clovis Hunt’s hometown, where all this nonsense about his abandoned wives had first come to light.

“That takes the school down to only four students. And that includes the two who come in from out of town. Besides, those unhappy families aren’t agreeable to just keeping their children home, they are clamoring for a different teacher. The school is closed until a new teacher is hired.”

Molly looked into Mrs. Brownley’s eyes. The woman was a bit shorter than her, thin enough Molly worried about the Brownleys losing the income from boarding the teacher. Molly wanted to defend herself. She wanted to find those families and firmly explain her birth was all proper. She wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair that she was tarred with a brush she’d had nothing to do with.

One look in Mrs. Brownley’s kind eyes told her it would be a waste of time.

Molly’s shoulders slumped. “I should move on, head down the trail. Leave the terrible injustice of Clovis Hunt and the RHR behind. If I go without my family, and maybe change my name, no one would look down on me.”

Mrs. Brownley’s hand settled firmly on Molly’s shoulder. “You can’t do that. A woman alone can’t strike out in the world. It’s not safe.”

Molly thought of Amelia Bishop. A happy, courageous young woman looking for adventure. Mistreated by Oliver Hawkins. Married to a man who ended up being an outlaw and was now dead. Returning, a more fragile woman, to the safety of her father’s home.

And no one would describe Molly as a courageous, adventure-seeking woman. Mrs. Brownley was right that to leave on her own wasn’t safe.

Kevin and Win came up to Molly. Win said, “We’re ready to unload your things.”

“What’s wrong?” Kevin knew her so well.

“The job is no longer available.” Molly didn’t want to go into it. Not here at least, not when she wanted to scream and rant and weep. “I will be coming back to the RHR after all.”

Wyatt came to her side. “We want you back at the ranch, but what happened to the job?”

She thought of Clovis and the wreckage he’d left behind.

She thought of Amelia Bishop and what Rachel had said about how frightened she’d been.

She thought of the other vanished housekeepers and Win’s dead ma. And Molly’s dead ma.

A fury gripped her hard. She kept it in check, but she didn’t try to make it go away. Instead, she nurtured it, hugged it close, and thought of a way she could show a little courage.

“I left a few things at the parson’s house. Let’s get them and go home.”



Rachel had slipped into the house that first day and never went outside again.

Never stood in front of a window. Never lit a lantern when she was alone in a room.

Not even the cowhands knew she was there. Including Andy.

Now she helped set food on the table. Molly had to admit the meal looked good. “Rachel, you worked for several months at Hawkins’s as a housekeeper, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I was there over four months.”

“I’ve been thinking, if a Pinkerton agent like you can masquerade as a housekeeper, then maybe a housekeeper like me could masquerade as a Pinkerton agent.”

No one else was in the kitchen. They’d gone in different directions to get out of their Sunday best. Molly had rushed to change her dress so she could speak to Rachel in private.