Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(42)

Back in the kitchen, she replaced the knife and continued cooking, trying to decide if she needed to peek at the envelopes first or just flat out quit. Walk out now, find Wyatt, and ride for home. Open the envelopes when they were safe.

She wished Wyatt would come to the back door again. Talk to her, make a plan. He would come to her window tonight. If she didn’t just up and leave before then, she’d wait for Wyatt, check what she had, then they’d leave together in the night after Mr. Hawkins went to sleep. Evidence or not, she was done here.

She agonized over whether to keep the envelopes in hand, and fear the crinkle of paper as she moved, or hide them in her satchel. She didn’t want to let them out of her sight. She found a solution she could live with. She hid the envelopes in a place Mr. Hawkins could expect a fat lip if he touched her.

Then she went back to her baking, slid the pie in the oven—no vinegar because she planned to have some herself—got potatoes on and sliced ham to fry. She couldn’t do much of anything fancy because her hands tended to start shaking.

Mr. Hawkins came to the kitchen early for dinner as usual. To watch her work.

She smiled as she poured him a cup of coffee. She’d learned his preferences: bring the cup to the table, then get the pot and bring it to the table, and pour. He said he liked it piping hot and that helped, but in truth he liked her standing near him.

While he sipped coffee, she got the table set. Next the pie was out of the oven, the potatoes were mashed, and the ham was keeping warm on a platter on the back of the stove.

Setting the table, she was surprised when Mr. Hawkins rose. He seemed to like to sit and be served. She half expected him to ask her to cut his meat and fork it into his mouth.

“Everything’s ready, Mr. Hawkins. I’m just bringing the coffeepot over.” She reached for the big pot on the back of the stove, thinking of how she’d liked the idea of having the big water pitcher between them. Even better to have the boiling hot coffeepot.

Before she got hold of it, Mr. Hawkins caught her arm and pulled her away from the stove.

Startled, she squeaked as he turned her to face him. “Molly, I think it’s time we talked of things other than food and drink.”

This was it, then. Whatever he said right now, she’d have to leave. Assuming he allowed it. There’d be no staying for another day once words came out of his mouth that suggested they be more than employer and employee.

“I’ve enjoyed having your help here. You’re the best housekeeper I’ve ever had. But my feelings—”

A sharp rap on the back door made him back up a few steps just as the door swung open.

Molly looked, hopeful it would be Wyatt but glad for any interruption.

“Hi, Pa, Kevin and I thought we’d stop in for dinner.” Win waved with a big, if somewhat phony, smile on her face. She came on in and headed for the table.

Kevin was right behind her.

“Oliver, good to see you and Molly.” Kevin walked straight to her, his expression mild, pleasant, but his eyes were sharp, and he clearly wanted to know how she was doing.

“Kevin.” She lost all control of herself and threw her arms around her big brother.

Catching her by the waist, Kevin lifted her to her toes. “I’ve missed you, little sister.”

He gave her too tight a squeeze, and close to her like this, he whispered, “I want a chance to talk to you before we go.”

She hid the flinch when his squeeze hurt her arm. But maybe she didn’t hide it well enough because his eyes narrowed.

Molly got ahold of herself and said brightly, “I’ve made plenty of food. Let me add plates to the table.”

With the first genuine smile she’d managed while Mr. Hawkins was in the room, she hurried around, setting places for them. Mr. Hawkins was at the head of the table as always, and Molly sat at the foot, closest to the stove should she need to fetch anything.

Win got busy pouring coffee and talking lightly with her father.

Knowing how Win felt about her pa, for them to come for a visit gave Molly a sweet rush of love for her sister-in-law. She had to stop mourning the loss of a brother and start celebrating that she’d gained a sister.

The food was dished up. Mr. Hawkins was doing his usual wide smiles and charm. Something Molly knew was only skin deep—and his skin was extremely thin.

The meal was eaten, the pie served. Win and Kevin remarked on the wonderful food. Mr. Hawkins now talked favorably about her cooking, too, instead of acting like he was entitled to hard work and fine cooking from his servant.

They talked about general things while they ate, but after the pie was finished, Win said, “I’d like to stay awhile, Pa.”

She took a sip of her coffee. “I’ve realized since I married Kevin and we’ve talked about our families that I don’t know that much about Ma or you or how you grew up.”

“Well, you can hardly fault me for not telling you stories, Winona.” His voice had a sarcastic edge. “You left before you were old enough to remember much, and since you’ve come home, you’re never here.”

“You’re right, but I’d like to change all that.” Color bloomed high in Win’s cheeks, but she clung to a smile and a pleasant tone. “Now, as an adult woman, a married woman, I’d like to learn more about your childhood and Ma’s. I’d like to better understand where I came from. I have faint memories of Ma’s mother, and I knew of Grandpa, but I can barely remember their names. I know we came from Chicago to here, but what did Grandpa do in Chicago? What work did you do back there? And I’m sure I’ve never heard a thing about your family. I would like to know more. What were Grandma and Grandpa Hawkins’s names? What did Grandpa Hawkins work at? Do you have any pictures?”