The Road to Reunion

“I’ll be all right. I’ve got a car charger for my cell phone in case the battery goes dead, and a credit card for gas and expenses. My car’s in good shape, and the tires are brand-new. The only thing that doesn’t work is the radio, and I’ve got plenty of CDs.”

CDs and a credit card, and she thought she was prepared for anything. Hell.

“Call your brother as soon as you get a cell phone signal,” he ordered her. “Let him keep track of your progress this time.”

She nodded. “I will. Kyle—”

He braced for the question he knew was coming.

“Won’t you please reconsider coming to the party? It would only be for a few hours, and it would mean a lot to my parents. It would mean a lot to me, too,” she added softly, her eyes so dark with emotion they were almost emerald.

It was more difficult to say it each time, but he managed to get the words out. “No, Molly. I can’t.”

“You can’t stay up here brooding forever. Even Mack thinks it would be good for you to get away for a few days.”

Not for the first time, it occurred to him that she was either the most courageous or most foolhardy woman he’d ever met. Didn’t she know that wounded strays were likely to lash out at anyone who reached out to them? If she had cornered him like this only a couple of months earlier, she’d have been lucky to escape unscathed.

Fortunately, he’d recovered somewhat since then— both physically and emotionally—so he simply gave her a cool look and said, “I know best what’s good for me.”

Her lips twisted into a little smile that looked very sad. “I’m sure you believe that.”

She’d always had a tender heart. He remembered how easily she had cried as a child—rarely for herself, that he remembered, but usually when someone else had been hurt or upset. Now she’d apparently decided that he deserved her sympathy. He could almost feel his male ego shriveling in response to the pity he was afraid he saw in her eyes.

But, because she was Molly, he couldn’t be angry with her. Anyone else, maybe—but not her. “I’ll help you carry your bags, out,” he offered, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

She seemed to give herself a little shake. “I only have one. I can handle it.”

He remained where he was when she turned to go collect her things. She would be on her way very shortly. And then his life could get back to normal. And he was not sitting up here “brooding,” he assured himself with a touch of defiance. He stayed busy. He worked out, he did repairs on the house, he read and researched possible paths for his future.

He had offers—Mack was urging him rather persistently to join him in the rental business, for example. Or he could go back to school on the military’s tab, studying anything that interested him.

Maybe he had gotten a raw deal, but he wasn’t brooding and he didn’t need her to rescue him. It was bad enough that Mack and Jewel fretted over him so much, a situation he tolerated only because he knew they needed to do so.

No, he had enough people in his life for now. Molly had plenty of others to cater to her—her parents, her brother and his family, all those aunts, uncles and cousins he remembered, the other foster boys who had probably all stayed close to the Walker family.

She probably had a boyfriend. A lover, he corrected himself, belatedly remembering her age. At least one, considering the way she looked. Hell, guys were probably lined up at her door.

It must have been a new experience for her to have to drive across two and a half states to practically beg a man to visit her.

Her green overnight bag was slung over her shoulder, and her car keys were in her hand. She was going. And the fact that his first instinct was to throw himself in front of the door to bar her way was proof that she wasn’t leaving too soon.

“You’ll be careful?” He tried to speak brusquely, but he wasn’t sure he was entirely successful.

“I’ll be careful.” She moistened her lips, then held out a hand to him. “I wrote down all the numbers at the ranch and my own cell number. Our e-mail address is on here, too. Maybe you could call or drop us a line sometime—just to let us know how you’re doing.”

“You sent me all that information when you invited me to the party the first time.” But he took the folded sheet of paper, anyway, since she had gone to the trouble of writing it all out for him.

“Just hang on to the list.” She smiled faintly. “Maybe you’ll decide you want to use it someday.”