Chapter Ten

N ervous and unsettled, Friday almost remained on the train rather than step off to greet Molly. He might have done exactly that if Harley John hadn't given him a nudge forward and forced him to get off the passenger car.

Friday glowered over his shoulder at his friend as he moved down the steps to the platform.

"It'll be fine, Fitz. Molly has been so wound up to see you, she probably won't even care that you smell weird and are hopping with cooties," Harley John taunted.

The glower deepened to a dark scowl as Friday removed his new hat and ran a hand over his head. Despite the fact that he was and had been cootie-free for months, he could still imagine them crawling all over him. It might take years before he got over the paranoia.

"I don't stink any more than you do," Friday tossed at Harley John as they made their way across the platform.

They'd both taken baths the previous evening, dressed with care in new uniforms and polished their boots until they shined.

Despite their spiffy appearances, Friday felt anxiety getting the best of him. What if Molly didn't like him after spending time with him in person? After all, they'd only seen each other that one day months ago, just before all the fighting got underway. What if he saw her and realized all their letters and harmless flirting was just a way to pass the time? To give him something to think about other than the war?

Assailed by a barrage of questions to which he had no answers, he had no further time for introspection or doubts. They'd just stepped off the platform when two women waved to them.

Immediately, Friday recognized Molly. She looked even prettier than he'd remembered. The uniform she wore appeared fresh and crisp on her slender frame. Her beautiful brown hair was in the same soft style she'd fashioned it in last year. But it was her smile, full of welcome and affection, that made his heart begin to pound in his chest.

Whatever worries might have plagued him the past few days instantly disappeared as he and Harley John rushed over to Molly and Sadie. Before they reached the two women, Sadie launched herself into Harley John's arms and he swung her around with such exuberance her hat ended up over one eye. She laughed, shoved the hat up, and covered her husband's face with kisses without a care to propriety.

Friday took a step closer to Molly, uncertain if he should politely tip his hat, give her a hug, or kiss her like he'd dreamed of doing for the past seven months.

Molly quirked an eyebrow and grinned, as though in challenge. Friday forgot about everything except the amazing woman he'd waited so long to set his eyes on again. Before he could think better of it, he wrapped Molly in a tight hug, breathing in the lovely fragrance of her, marveling at how perfectly she fit into his arms. Despite his longing to kiss her, he didn't intend for their first one to be in such a public place.

She was a dream of the very best kind, and one from which he never wanted to awaken. When she pulled away from him, he let her go, but noisily smacked both of her cheeks, making her blush.

"You're a regular Frenchman now," she teased, and Friday relaxed. This was the Molly he knew so well from the letters they'd exchanged. The woman he'd fallen in love with months ago, the first time she'd looked his way.

"And you're a regular feast for the eyes, Mame. Gee, it's good to see you." He stepped back and let his gaze travel from the hat on top of her head to the toes of her low-heeled shoes, which were not the high-topped boots she'd lamented were beyond ugly.

"Beautiful," he said quietly so only she could hear.

"You don't look too bad yourself, doughboy. Come on. You two are probably starving. We've got a meal all lined up for you." Molly slipped her arm around Friday's as Harley John set Sadie on her feet.

"I hope you don't mind eating at the house where I'm staying. There is a spectacular garden behind it that is budding to life, and we can linger as long as we like over the meal," Molly said, taking a few steps forward, then suddenly she stopped.

Friday nearly bumped into her, but took a hasty step to the side to avoid knocking her down.

"Oh, gracious!" Molly turned and glanced from Sadie to Friday. "That was rather rude. My apologies. I forgot the two of you haven't met. Corporal Friday Fitzpatrick, this is my sister, Doctor Sadie Hobbs."

Sadie smiled broadly and reached out a hand to Friday, which he took between both of his. "Harley John and Molly have talked so much about you, I feel like we're already friends," Sadie said.

"We are," Friday said. He released her hand and bowed to Sadie with a flourish of his hat. "If you have no objection, I've already added you up near the top of my list of friends, Dr. Hobbs."

Sadie grinned. "No objection at all, but please, call me Sadie."

Friday nodded. "Only if you call me Friday or Fitz."

"Friday it is," Sadie said with a smile, then they once again continued down the street toward Molly's current accommodations. The two-story house appeared modern and well-kept. From her letters, Friday knew there was a maid who did the cooking and cleaning.

Rather than take them through the front door, Molly led them through a side gate to a yard that looked like a bit of paradise with green grass, budding trees, and flowers already in bloom.

"The table is right over there," Molly said, pointing to a cloth-covered table. "Go ahead and have a seat while I see if the food is ready."

She disappeared inside while Harley John's eyes settled on Sadie. He watched as his wife walked over to a round table which was set for four with delicate flower-rimmed china.

Friday hadn't eaten off anything that wasn't a tin plate for so long that he hoped he hadn't completely forgotten all the manners his mother and older sisters had instilled in him.

Harley John pulled out a chair for Sadie and kissed her cheek while Friday stood behind a chair, waiting for Molly's return.

She soon bustled outside with a bowl in one hand and a platter in the other, followed by an older woman with her hair in a severe bun wearing a white apron that bore the stains of a busy morning's work. Molly set the food on the table, disappeared back inside, and soon returned with a pitcher of what appeared to be honest-to-goodness lemonade.

Friday held Molly's chair as she took her seat, then lowered himself to the chair between her and Harley John.

It wasn't lost on him that Harley John scooted his chair closer to Sadie and slipped his arm around the back of her chair as though he felt a great need to touch her.

Not that Friday could blame him.

Sadie was lovely. Her figure was fuller and curvier than Molly's. Despite them not being sisters by blood, they both looked full of sass and spunk. There was a healthy wholesomeness about them both. They smiled easily and were obviously quite fond of each other. They also adored Harley John. It was clear that Molly held him in the regard she would a favored brother and Sadie couldn't have looked more besotted with her husband had she tried.

Friday studied the three of them. At first, he thought he might feel like an outsider. Instead, he found himself intrigued with the way they lovingly and lightheartedly interacted.

"I think Harley John should ask the blessing," Molly said, looking across the table at him.

"What if I planned to ask Friday, Miss Bossy Britches?" Sadie asked, grinning at Molly.

Molly gave her sister a mock scowl. "Must we argue about something so simple, Sassy Pants?"

Then, the two of them laughed and bowed their heads.

Harley John smirked at Friday, then offered a brief heartfelt prayer for the gift of being together and asked a blessing on the brief time they would have to spend with one another.

Although Friday and Harley John had been granted leave, it was only for thirty-six hours. Almost four hours had been spent getting from their barracks to the town where Molly was now stationed. It had been a good meeting point, though, since Sadie was stationed at a hospital about that same distance in the opposite direction.

"Dig in, kids. Our maid is top-notch when it comes to cooking." Molly snapped open a cloth napkin and draped it on her lap.

It had been so long since Friday had seen a real napkin, he'd nearly forgotten the use. He settled it across his right leg, then helped himself to a casserole made from eggs, ham, and cheese that was flavored with herbs and baked into a flaky crust. There were slices of bread with butter and peach preserves, a bowl of steamed vegetables, and crispy roasted potatoes. For dessert, they enjoyed bowls of vanilla pudding with figs.

Friday and Harley John drained their glasses of lemonade twice, pleased to enjoy something different yet familiar.

"That was delicious," Friday said, dabbing his mouth with his napkin after he'd scraped the last bite of pudding from his bowl.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Just give me a moment to haul in the dishes, then we can head off to do a little exploring if you like." Molly stood and began stacking empty plates together. Friday looked at Harley John, and by silent agreement the two of them carried the dishes to the kitchen, thanked the maid for lunch in halting French, then returned outside.

"Let's go. I know we don't have much time for dawdling," Molly said, tugging on a pair of gloves.

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world when Friday took her hand in his as she led the way out to the street. The medieval town was teeming with history. They visited a cathedral with twin spires that soared high into the sun-drenched sky. Molly and Sadie both admired the stained-glass rose windows.

From there, they toured a medieval fortress with seventeen defensive towers, explored a castle with a collection of tapestries on display, and rested by the river, indulging in chocolate-filled pastries Molly had purchased from a bakery.

"It's a beautiful place," Harley John said as he sat on the end of the bench they occupied with his arm around Sadie. She leaned back against him, appearing content.

Friday wished he could exhibit as much familiarity with Molly, but he had no right. At least not yet. But every time her leg accidentally bumped his, it felt like something electric spurted through his system.

They visited one more chateau before hunger drove them back to the hotel where Friday, Harley John, and Sadie would spend the night. The four of them savored a meal that started with a creamy soup. They enjoyed seasoned chicken, herbed rice, salad greens, steamed vegetables, and dinner rolls. For dessert, they indulged in slices of rich cake topped with canned cherries.

As soon as the meal ended, Harley John and Sadie bid them good night.

Friday sat in his chair, studying Molly. She was … more. So much more than he'd allowed himself to remember or imagine. More intelligent. More humorous. More interesting. More beautiful.

So very beautiful.

He noticed other soldiers in the hotel dining room watching them and felt a spurt of jealousy. Part of him experienced a primitive desire to stand up and bellow like a cavedweller, proclaiming Molly as his. Instead, he finished his coffee while listening to Molly talk about her hopes to soon be discharged.

For her sake and his, he hoped she wouldn't be kept for months and months in France, just as Harley John was hopeful Sadie would be able to return to the States before too long. Sadie would have obligations in New York to fulfill before she was released from duty, but Friday was certain she intended to eventually return to Pendleton to set up her medical practice with her cousin.

Friday had so many things he wanted to ask Molly, so many things he wanted to share with her, but for now he was content listening to her voice as it flowed over him like a soothing balm.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" Molly asked after a server cleared away their plates.

"That would be nice," Friday said, rising to his feet, then pulling out her chair.

With Molly on his arm as they strolled down the sidewalk, he felt like the luckiest fella in the world. He committed the sounds and smells to mind to help him remember this moment some evening when he was alone and missing her.

They meandered to a park where Friday was able to find a bench tucked away behind some hedges where they could sit unnoticed and undisturbed.

Molly kept a proper distance between them but didn't scoot away when Friday took her hand in his and laced their fingers together.

She gave him a long, beguiling look from beneath the brim of her hat, and he knew then he was lost. So completely and thoroughly lost to this slip of a girl—this fascinating woman—that there was no hope in the world left for him. He belonged to her. It was that simple and that complicated. He belonged to Molly and knew he always would.

Whether she returned his affection or didn't, whether they had a future or only this moment, it didn't matter. For whatever time Friday had left on earth, be it a day or fifty years, he belonged to Molly.

However, he wasn't quite ready to blurt that out to her. Not when it was the first day they'd spent together. She'd probably label him as off his rocker and have Sadie deem him a mental case.

Instead, Friday forced himself to relax and leaned back. "This sure is a pretty place you've landed, Mame."

"It is lovely. I'll admit, it's been nice to be on assignment here. There are interesting things to do now that I get time off. I've enjoyed the restaurants immensely. The accommodations feel quite palatial after roughing it in our barracks. The roof leaked whenever it rained. I was sure we'd wake up with our feet or hands frozen together one morning."

Friday grinned and brought the hand he held to his lips, kissing the back of it. "That would have been a true tragedy, Molly girl. Do you think you'll stay here until you are discharged?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea. I could get reassigned tomorrow, or I could be here until they tell me it's time to head home. Since I'm the supervisor here, though, I rather think they'll keep me for the time being. Now that things are settling down and you boys are shipping home with some regularity, I don't imagine it will be too much longer before they begin sending us back to the States as well."

"What will you do when you return home, Molly? Will you get your job back at the telephone office?"

"No. It wouldn't be fair to the girl who took my job to ask for it back, although I'm fairly certain I could get it. I'm not sure I could go back to the lowest rung on the ladder after having worked my way up to manager. I don't know what I'll do when I get back, but I do know I can keep busy. Between wheat harvest and getting ready for winter, there is always much work to be done on the farms, as you well know. Aunt Ilsa would welcome help in her dress shop, but I do not possess the patience required to sit and sew day after day. I could probably work for my Aunt Aundy. She and Uncle Garrett have always got a dozen-and-one things going on there. Did I tell you they raise both beef and sheep in addition to all the acres of wheat?"

"You didn't. That's unusual." Friday tried to envision sheep and cattle grazing in the same pasture, but the picture wouldn't take hold in his mind.

Molly grinned. "So is Aunt Aundy. In the very best way, though. You'll just have to meet her to know what I mean." She bumped him with her shoulder. "Tell me about your gaggle of sisters. I'd like to hear more about each one of them, even though you wrote about them in your letters. Did your mother really name them after the months they were born, like she named you Friday for being born on a Friday?"

"She sure did. May is the oldest. She's married to Hank. They have three youngsters, all boys. Hank has been working with Dad on the farm since he and May married a dozen years ago. Hank grew up on a dairy farm and purely hates milking cows. My nephews are an ornery, rascally bunch, but they are heaps of fun. Just like the calendar, my sister June comes right after May. They are only a year apart in age. June wasn't in such a rush to start fulfilling my mother's wishes to be a grandma. She and Jack have one sweet little girl, Alicia, who stands up to my nephews like she is the boss with a capital B. Then there is April, my favorite. She married Adam. They have Reece, who is five, and baby Lila, who was a newborn when I left for Camp Lewis. January is the baby of the family and four years younger than me. I don't think Ma and Pop planned on having more youngsters underfoot, but Jan is Ma's pet. Gosh, I can't wait to see them all. What about you? Are you looking forward to being back at Dogwood Corners?"

"I am. In a few weeks, the spring ball will be held there, and the house will overflow with guests. The air smells like wonderful food and flowers from all the arrangements Aunt Aundy creates. When I was younger, I loved to sit on the balcony and watch everyone arrive, sweeping into the foyer in their finery. I always thought the women looked like blossoms in their beautiful gowns."

"Were the men the weeds?" Friday asked in a teasing tone.

"Only some of them," Molly said with a cheeky grin. "I wish you could see it, Friday. It's all so splendid and lovely, and the dogwoods cover the lane in a carpet of petals. It's probably my favorite time of year, the spring, with all the flowers blooming and the air rich with their perfume. My bedroom is near several lilac bushes, and I love to sit on my window seat and breathe in the scent. It's divine." She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, as though she could smell the lilacs.

Friday so badly wanted to lean over and kiss her, but he wasn't entirely certain it would be welcomed or appreciated.

He felt as if he knew Molly—knew so many things about her—from the letters they'd exchanged. It was the oddest, strangest thing, but with every passing minute, he felt more comfortable around her, like he'd known her all his life and had just happened upon a long-lost friend.

"Tell me more about Pendleton," he said, eager to keep her talking. The sound of her voice was both invigorating and soothing to him. So many times during the dark days of battle, he wished he could have picked up the telephone and called her, just to hear her voice for a moment or two. He prayed that someday in the future, he'd wake every morning to the sound of it and fall asleep with her softly spoken "good night" echoing in his ears.

"I think you should tell me more about Dundee. I don't know a thing about it other than you live on a farm near there, and it's where you grew up and went to school."

"There's not a whole lot to tell. It's a small town. The population is around two hundred people. The main street is dirt, but we do have a train depot, small as it is. My grandparents came across on the Oregon Trail and started the orchard. My dad is the only surviving child, so he took over the farm a long time ago. Dundee is named after the town in Scotland. William Reid was born there. He came to America and traveled to Oregon in 1874 to establish the Oregonian Railway and did a lot of work on the railroad in the western Willamette Valley."

"Well, that's all information I didn't know." Molly smiled at him. "That wasn't so hard, was it, to share a little about your town?"

"Nope, but I'd still rather hear about Pendleton. Ever since they landed on the idea to hold the Round-Up each year, it cemented their spot as a Wild West town worth knowing. You're just part of the legend."

Molly laughed. "Hardly, you silly doughboy. If you want to talk about the Round-Up, I can put you in touch with people in the know. Several of my uncles participate in it and help organize it. My cousin Nik's wife, Dally, does trick riding. I'm sure Harley John has told you all this."

Friday shrugged. "Some, but I like hearing it from you. Has your mother written lately with any funny stories?"

"Well, she said two of the stores in town have entered the national window display contest the Stetson Company is holding." She touched her finger to the brim of his felt hat. "You know, the hatmaker."

"What kind of contest?" Friday asked, glancing upward at his hat then back to her.

"There are prizes for the top five store window displays that showcase Stetson hats. To enter, stores mail in photographs of their displays. Mama said one of the stores in town has a real chance of winning. They have a big window and have filled it with a cattle range scene by a local artist, and a range saddle made right there in Pendleton at the Western store, along with an assortment of cowboy hats. She said it looks really nice. Wouldn't it be something if they won?"

"It would be." Friday could care less about a hat contest, the size of Dundee, or the price of tea in China. All he really cared about was Molly and what a fine, fine woman she had turned out to be.

During the months since meeting her, he'd done his best to convince himself his interest in her was because they were at war, and she represented something so clean and pure and sweet.

Yet, after spending all day with her, he knew to the very depths of his ability to know that he loved Molly because she was an intelligent, amazing, amusing, caring, generous, and wonderful girl. It had nothing to do with what they'd endured the past year, nor was it some doomed effort to reclaim his youth that the brutality of war had stripped from him and everyone else who'd been part of the battle to defeat the Germans.

The smiling, laughing, sweetheart of a girl who was looking at Friday with her heart in her warm amber eyes was all he wanted or needed. All he ever would.

But there would be time later, once they both were back in Oregon, to discuss their tomorrows.

For now, just being with her, just basking in her sweetness, was more than enough.

Or so he told himself when he felt the pull once again to taste her lips. Could he really leave her—really head home—without kissing her? Friday decided he needed just one kiss to tide him over. One kiss to carry him across the ocean and back to civilian life.

"Don't you think so?" Molly asked with a questioning glance.

Friday had no idea what she'd said or if she even expected him to answer. He couldn't have offered a reply if his life had depended on it.

As though she realized he'd been woolgathering, she gave him an indulgent smile that made him feel more like a misbehaving boy than a man intent on stealing a kiss from the woman he loved. It was then he realized the sun was about to set. The golden rays shimmered on the horizon just behind Molly's head, creating an ethereal glow that surrounded her.

Friday wished he could have captured the image she created on canvas or composed a sonnet in tribute to the appealing vision she presented. But he was neither an artist nor a poet.

He made do with committing to memory the image of her sitting so primly in her Army uniform with the sun gilding its edges. A lovely setting of trees in bud and flowers blooming embedded a painting in his mind he would never forget.

"What is it? Do I have something on my face?" Molly asked, brushing at her cheek when he continued staring at her, thoroughly entranced.

Friday took both of her hands between his and slid so close his thigh pressed against hers. All of his senses seemed to leap to life. He could hear the sound of his breath and feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. He could smell the fragrance of Molly and the flowers that bloomed in the bed behind them, see the questions in her amber eyes riddled with golden flecks that looked like she'd captured shards of sunlight in their depths. He imagined the taste of her, something honeyed and delightful, along with the feel of her in his arms, the softness of her lips pressed to his.

"Mame, I'm doing my very best to be a gentleman, but I figure I've only got a few minutes of good behavior left in my reserves, and they are evaporating at top speed," Friday admitted, feeling both foolish and valiant as he released her hands and slid away from her. "I think now would be a good time to walk you back to your house."

Friday started to rise, but Molly grabbed onto his hands, stopping him so that he resumed his seat.

"Now, listen up, doughboy. I've waited what feels like half a lifetime to spend time with you. Today has been the finest, most brilliant day I've had in longer than I can remember. I've loved every minute we've spent together, and if you think you can walk me home, peck my cheek, and then leave tomorrow without giving me a proper kiss, gentlemanly intentions or not, then you better let Sadie give you an inspection because your thinker is wobbling to the side."

Friday laughed and wrapped his arms around Molly, knocking her hat off in the process. She snuggled close against his chest, and he couldn't think when anything had felt as perfect.

"Better?" he asked in a husky voice he barely recognized as his own.

"Improvements are making steady headway," she muttered, then tipped back her head and looked up at him with such love and longing in her expression Friday knew he was done for when it came to resisting Molly.

With one arm around her, fingers splayed out across her back, he brought his other hand up and skimmed his knuckles, rough as they were, across the smooth skin of her cheek. He brushed his thumb ever so slowly across her bottom lip.

Now that he was intent on getting the job done, he wasn't in a hurry. He wanted their first kiss to be special. Memorable. Unforgettable.

He opened his hand and slid his fingers around to cup the back of her head, noting the silkiness of her hair while her decadent, decidedly feminine fragrance filled his nose. She smiled, and that little dimple in her left cheek popped out of hiding as though to further entice him.

"Molly girl," he rasped, wondering what sort of spell had bewitched him. What kind of power she held over him.

"Hmm?" she asked, her gaze fixated on his lips, as though she was equally as hungry for their kiss.

Friday couldn't think, let alone speak, with Molly held so close to his chest, his dreams surrounded by his arms. Slowly, with purpose, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her gently, with great tenderness. After all, she was a precious gift to him, one he revered and treasured.

Aware of the softness of her lips and the warmth of her pressed against him, he took a risk and deepened the kiss, fully prepared for the moment she jerked away and soundly slapped him across the face.

Only she didn't.

Molly met his passion with her own, leaving him both astounded and awed. Friday had never known such unexpected bliss as he experienced in their fervent exchange. Just as he'd imagined, the taste of her was decadent, sweet, and ambrosial. He had no idea how long their kisses continued as the ardent need for each other grew with each one.

Finally, reason latched on to the few remaining cells of sense banging around aimlessly in Friday's head. He gave Molly one more thorough kiss, then lifted his head.

"As much as I hate to end this superb interlude with you, Mame, I need to see you home. Or do you have nefarious plans to waylay an innocent little doughboy?"

Molly gave him a saucy grin and straightened, setting her hat back on her head at a jaunty angle. "Depends on the doughboy."

"Oho. I see how it is with you," he said, grinning broadly and immensely enjoying their banter. "Would you let just any doughboy come along and woo you in the park?"

"Nope." Molly stood and started down the path, then glanced back at him over her shoulder, looking just-kissed and utterly tempting. "Only the ones who are named after a day of the week."

"Is that so?" he asked, offering her his arm and kissing her cheek. "So, you'll smooch on some lackwit named Monday?"

"Nope. Friday has become my favorite day without question." She smiled up at him, and he could have sworn he saw his heart flap right out of his chest to land in her lovely little hands.

If they'd been alone, he might have tickled her, or swung her into his arms, or kissed her for eternity. But another couple was walking toward them, and as they neared the sidewalk, they could see several people milling around.

"I suppose I should feel quite mollified by that," he said with a smirk.

Molly rolled her eyes, then laughed and bumped against him. Five minutes later, he stood on the porch outside the house where she was staying and wished he was a man of eloquent words. Harley John had advised him to be a straight shooter with Molly, so that's what he intended to be.

"Molly, today has been the best day I've ever had, but I suppose I'm a bit on the selfish side because I want more of them. Hundreds more of them. I'm not asking for anything from you yet, for now, except a promise that you'll keep writing to me and when you're home we'll see each other again. Unless you find a new fella named Thursday and decide it's your new favorite day of the week."

"Never, Friday. Not ever." Molly took both of his hands and squeezed them so tightly she transmitted some of the desperation she appeared to feel that mirrored his own. "I don't want today to end, but I know it must. You and Harley John will be leaving in the morning, but I'll never forget today or you. Please write to me and let me know about your trip home, and how things are there. I have no idea how long I'll remain here in France, but I would be so grateful if you'd stay in touch. I promise when I return to Pendleton, we'll arrange to see each other, as long as you are certain it's what you want."

"I'm certain, Molly. I couldn't be any more certain if you erected a monument for all the world to see. I love you, Molly Antoinette Banks Thorsen. Thousands of miles and an ocean between us won't change that. Nothing will."

"Oh," she said in a whisper as tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Friday!" She threw her arms around him and pressed her face into his neck. He could feel the dampness of her tears on his skin as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her, loving her.

When she shifted, he relaxed his hold. She stood on tiptoe, pulling his head down until her lips touched his ear. "I love you, too. I have from the day we met. I love you, Friday Campbell Fitzpatrick, more than you can ever know."

She kissed his cheek, then disappeared inside the house before he could corral his thoughts enough to respond.

He stared at the closed portal a moment, then turned and walked back to the hotel. As he did, he whistled a rather boisterous tune of "All That I Ask of You Is Love."