Chapter Fifteen

"Y ou look like you had one too many glasses of lemonade," Harley John said as he plunked down on the bench beside Friday at one of the long makeshift tables made out of plywood and sawhorses. All the tables were covered in white tablecloths with colorful arrangements of flowers set in the center.

"I haven't had any lemonade. I like the tea better," Friday said, glancing over at Harley John before he returned to watching Molly. She was bouncing a baby boy on her hip and laughing at something one of the young women who encircled her had said. Friday thought the female was Luna Douglas, but he'd met so many people he couldn't be certain.

Molly appeared so happy, so carefree and joyful, he had to question what he was doing at the party. She belonged in Pendleton with people she'd known her whole life. People who loved and supported her.

The past few months he'd been kicking around the idea of building a house on the upper end of his father's property and settling there with Molly if his father would sell him the land.

However, as he watched her, surrounded by friends and family, observed the way they clearly loved and adored her, he couldn't uproot her. Couldn't ask her to leave. It wouldn't be right.

The only alternative to that was Friday moving to Pendleton.

While he wasn't opposed to the idea, he had no idea what he could do for a living. To his knowledge, nut orchards weren't popular in the area. He hadn't the foggiest idea about raising wheat, which seemed to be the crop of choice in the county.

He supposed he could raise beef cattle, but he hadn't a notion where to start looking for a herd.

Even if he had the necessary skills to build a successful ranch or farm, he lacked the funds to get started. He didn't want to just eke out a living. If he asked Molly to spend her life with him, he wanted that life to be comfortable, not one spent scrambling for every dollar.

Short of farming, or being a trained infantryman, Friday had no other ideas for an occupation. Maybe something would come to him. Some idea or notion that would let him turn his dreams of a good life with Molly into reality.

When Molly kissed the babe she held, Friday had a vision of her kissing their son. A boy with his dark hair and Molly's amber eyes. He could see the child so plainly in his mind that he wanted to hold him and cuddle him close, but then the vision faded, and he was once again back at Molly's party with Harley John gaping at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Are you feeling well? Did the ride in my plane rattle your brains loose?" his friend questioned.

"I'm fine, but thanks for that."

Harley John grinned. "Anytime. It's what friends are for, you know. Seriously, Friday, is something wrong? You just look a little … introspective."

Friday raised his left eyebrow. "Now who is using ten-dollar words? I was just thinking about Molly, us, our future, and how it could work. I've never done anything, outside of the war, besides raise nuts and farm. If I'm not there doing that, what could I do?"

"Did Molly say she refused to leave Pendleton?" Harley John asked.

"No. We haven't actually discussed our future."

Harley John rolled his eyes. "Why don't you wait to get all down in the mouth after she sets you on your ear and not before. If you haven't asked her, how do you know she wouldn't be excited to move to Dundee?"

"I don't know that she wouldn't be, but she seems so happy here, Harley John. I couldn't ask her to leave."

Harley John shrugged. "I can't speak for Molly or you, but I can tell you that Sadie and I realized being together was the important thing. Where that happens seems rather irrelevant."

"But Sadie is coming back here when she finishes her New York contract, isn't she?"

"Yep, and I couldn't be happier about that. But I'm going to New York and staying with her when she returns from France. And if she changes her mind and wants to stay there, or decides to move to Florida or wherever, I'll happily go with her. Sadie is my home. It isn't a place on this planet. Home is with her."

Friday gave Harley John a long studying glance, then nodded in understanding. "I know what you're saying, but Sadie is a doctor, and with your airplane and mechanic skills, you can pretty much find work wherever you go. What in the world can I do besides farm and shoot Germans?"

Harley John settled a hand on Friday's shoulder. "The government might be happy to have you shoot more Germans before things get properly settled over there."

Friday rolled his eyes. "Right. Kidding aside, though, I have no idea what to do to earn a living if I can't farm. And if I'm not farming with my family, how am I going to get enough capital to get started here?"

"I'll loan you money," Harley John said, not looking at all as though he was joking.

"Did you rob a bank recently?"

"Even if I were of a rickety moral character, which you know better than to even consider, do you think my head is full of pudding? Have you met my father-in-law and Sadie's uncle? They are lawmen and some of the finest you'll ever encounter. I'd be in cuffs if I even thought about such a thing, which I never would, as you well know." Harley John frowned at Friday, then relaxed a little. "The truth is that my mother received an inheritance, which she put into a bank account in my name, and my father never knew a thing about it. When Grant Hill told me, I couldn't believe it. The money sat untouched all those years, making a plump nest egg. I used a little of it to buy the plane and some of it to engage Walker William's services in designing and building a house for Sadie. I intend to build a hangar for the airplane before Sadie gets back from France. I also need to buy an automobile since I gave Noah my old one. Although, I might just purchase a motorcycle to ride until Sadie and I come home in January, and she can choose the auto she wants."

Friday knew he was gawking at Harley John but couldn't help it. If ever there was a human who deserved something so unexpected and wonderful as a windfall of money, it was Harley John. His father had left him his land and what little he had, but it sounded like the money from his mother would set up Harley John in fine style.

Anyone else might have been jealous of Harley John's good fortune, but Friday could only feel joy for his friend. After the rotten, miserable childhood Harley John had survived, he deserved every happiness that came his way.

"I'm so pleased for you, Johnny boy. That's wonderful news."

"Thanks, Friday. I appreciate it. Which is why I said I'd give you a loan if you ever need one. I can afford it."

"I appreciate the offer, Harley John, but it wouldn't seem right to me. I need to figure this out. If you have any suggestions for what I could do to make a decent living, I'm all ears."

"Let me think about it." Harley John glanced over at Molly, then back at Friday. "You really should talk to Molly, though."

"I know, and I will." Friday sat up a little straighter. "I'm grateful to you for kidnapping me today. The plane ride was fun, but I'm especially thankful to be here with Molly. It's good to just see her, you know."

"I do know, Friday. I absolutely do know."

Harley John went off to talk to someone who was waving him over, leaving Friday alone in his thoughts.

He felt someone else settle on the bench beside him and looked over at Lars. Although he'd seen the man earlier, they hadn't done more than exchange polite nods of greeting.

"Howdy, Friday. How are you doing?" Lars asked as he toyed with the glass of sweet tea he held in one of his large hands.

"Fine, sir. How are you?" Friday fought down the urge to tug at his shirt collar or loosen his tie, which currently felt like a noose tightening around his neck.

"Doing pretty well for it being midsummer in this insufferable heat. Yesterday, it was a hundred and ten. It only got up to ninety-one today."

"Is it always so hot here in the summer?" Friday asked, thinking ninety was a horribly hot day where he lived.

"Usually." Lars took a drink from his glass, then set it on the table and leaned back slightly. "I just wanted to make sure you're not having a hard time of things now that you've settled back into civilian life. I'm sure Molly told you I used to be a U.S. Marshal, and some of the things that I witnessed during that time, some of the things I've seen as a deputy, haunt me. It's not an easy thing to take a life, even if it means saving countless others. Kade and I both understand how that can eat away at your heart and soul. If you ever need a listening ear, we're both here."

Friday was so shocked by what Lars said, by what he offered, he couldn't force words out past the lump that had formed in his throat. It took him a moment to be able to speak. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, son. I mean that. Anytime. If you ever need to talk, I'm always here. Kade is too, if you'd be more comfortable talking to him."

"Thank you. I …" Friday sure wasn't of a mind to tell the man who may possibly one day be his father-in-law that there were some nights he awakened drenched in sweat, his heart pounding so fast it felt like it might burst, while the horrific visions of what he had witnessed and done in France and Belgium filled his worst nightmares. He'd meant to ask Harley John if he had suffered from a similar problem but hadn't yet worked up the nerve.

Suddenly, Lars stood and motioned for Friday to join him. "There's someone you should meet that we've neglected to introduce you to."

"Yes, sir," Friday said, falling into step beside Lars. They walked past the tables that still groaned from the weight of all the food on them despite the number of people who had gathered for the party and ate like there was no tomorrow.

Friday thought his community knew how to put on a good meal, but it was nothing compared to what the folks of Pendleton offered. Garrett had helped Lars roast a whole pig and a half of a steer in a pit. Friday had never seen anything like it, but the meat was tender and smoky, and perfect. There were a dozen salads, potatoes served four different ways, deviled eggs, dishes of pickles, sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, bowls of cold watermelon, ears of golden corn dripping with butter, and then the desserts. He'd never in all his life seen so many cakes, pies, and cookies in one place. He wanted to sample each one but gave up after a piece of coconut cake, a slice of chocolate pie, and a helping of blackberry cobbler. Harley John had told him to leave room for the ice cream that would be served later.

Lars stepped onto the side porch where three older gentlemen sat in rocking chairs in the shade, spinning stories and recalling the adventures of their long-past youth while they whittled sticks into a pile of wood shavings at their feet.

"Friday Fitzpatrick, I'd like you to meet J.B. Nash, Garrett's father. He and Nora founded Nash's Folly way back in 1870." Lars smiled at the old man who did bear a resemblance to Garrett.

Friday wondered how he'd missed meeting him the last time he was in Pendleton, but it had been a rushed endeavor with him and Harley John trying to get back to the train on time. He stepped forward and held out a hand in greeting.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Nash."

"You're the young man our Molly has taken a fancy to," J.B. said, looking Friday over like he was inspecting a prime slab of beef.

Friday gave Lars a quick glance, then nodded at the older man. "Yes, sir. At least I think she's taken a fancy to me."

Lars chuckled and thumped Friday on the shoulder. "There is no doubt about that, Friday. None at all." His jollity faded, and he looked at J.B. "Friday served in the 91 st Division during the war. He was at Saint Mihiel, in the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, and then at Ypres."

"Oh, I see," J.B. said, folding the pocketknife he held and tucking it into the pocket of his trousers. "War is a nasty business."

"Yes, sir," Friday said, uncertain what Lars intended other than to introduce him to another member of Molly's extended family. Friday knew Aundy, who was a sister to Lars, was Garrett's wife, therefore J.B. was her father-in-law. He recalled Molly mentioning Nora and J.B. filled the roles of grandparents to them all.

"J.B. fought with the Union in the War Between the States," Lars said.

"Oh," Friday said, gaining sudden clarity on the reason for the introduction.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Lars motioned to the other old men. "Marvin, would you and Fred tell me what you think about this roasting pit Garrett helped me dig?" Lars waited until the two older men pushed up from their chairs and made it down the steps to point to where the pit had been dug. "You ever see anything like that?"

J.B. remained silent until they were out of earshot to look up at Friday and motion to the chair Marvin had vacated beside him. "Nightmares getting to you?"

Friday shrugged and sank onto the rocking chair. "Sometimes. Do they ever stop?"

J.B. took out his knife and returned to whittling the stick he held. "I can't speak for everyone, but I still have one from time to time. I will say that the frequency lessens, and the vividness of the scenes fade with time."

Friday was hoping J.B. would tell him he'd wake up one day a few months from now, and everything would be back to the way it was before the war. Unfortunately, Friday knew before J.B. spoke a word that wasn't the way things worked. The war had shifted everything inside him, and Friday knew nothing would fit back into place as it once had. Some things weren't all bad, but other things, like the unreasonable anger he sometimes felt or the way a loud bang could make him jumpy, he would just as soon have left behind in France along with all the grisly, horrid scenes he'd witnessed.

He knew part of the reason his younger sister seemed to pluck at his every nerve wasn't entirely her fault. For reasons he couldn't begin to understand or explain, there were days he was just furious. He couldn't say at who, or why, but that anger simmered and boiled until he had done all he could do to keep it from overflowing onto those around him.

"I don't know you, son, or much about you, other than you've been a good friend to our Harley John, and he's among the finest young men I've ever met. Our Molly is a wonderful, smart girl we all love, so if she and Harley John both think the world of you, which they sure seem to, then I imagine you're cut from the same kind of cloth." J.B. studied him a moment, then returned to whittling.

"Thank you, sir. I try to live an honorable, upright life, but those two are hard to compete with."

"That they are." J.B. cleared his throat. "I never had anyone I could talk to about what happened in the war, but bottling it up isn't good for anyone. My sweet Nora didn't need to know what I'd experienced. We moved out here a few years after we wed, and then we lost our baby daughter, and it was a dark time for both of us. There were days when I wanted to just sink into the blackness and never come out of it, but Nora needed me, and my love for her kept me from giving up. I hardly knew anyone who lived here back then, and the town was just getting settled. Anyway, I took to writing down my thoughts and feelings, and then I'd burn those pieces of paper lest Nora find them. To this day, she never knew I did that. No one did. Once in a while, I still write out my feelings so they don't get out of hand. If you feel like you can't put a voice to what's going on inside you to let it out, write it down, Friday. Get it out of your system. That's the best way I can prescribe to let go of those demons that come in the night and steal your peace."

Friday marveled that J.B. had so accurately described what he'd experienced.

"Will it always feel like part of you still belongs on the battlefield while the rest of you wishes you'd never gone?"

J.B. nodded. "I reckon so, Friday. Sadly, I reckon so."

At least he knew what to expect. A hundred questions popped around in his head, but one pushed to the forefront. "Were you ever afraid for the people around you? That you might accidentally hurt one of them, even though you didn't mean to?"

"Yep, especially for a year or two right after the war. But I found quite a bit of solace in my Nora. She's a good woman and has more sense than most. Even though I never spoke to her of my troubles, she knew. Our marriage gave me comfort and peace that I doubt I'd ever have found on my own. I worried something awful that one of my nightmares would carry over into me hurting her, but it never did."

Silence fell between them, interrupted only by the sound of J.B. whittling.

"You ever try your hand at boxing?" J.B. asked, breaking the silence.

"No, sir, I haven't."

J.B. grinned and pointed the whittled stick at him. "Here's what you do. You get one of those boxing bags and a pair of gloves. You set it up somewhere you can hit it without being bothered. Then, anytime you feel like driving your fist through a wall or somebody's face, you go pound on that bag until the feeling passes, then pummel it another five minutes. If you do that, I promise it will make you feel better."

"I'll do that, sir."

Friday sat and talked to J.B. for a while until Harley John came looking for him.

"They're getting ready to serve ice cream. Do you want some?"

"Of course," Friday said, pasting on a carefree smile. He stood, then held out his hand to J.B. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate our talk more than you can know."

J.B. used Friday's hand as leverage to pull himself out of the chair, then gave it a hearty shake. "You come talk to me anytime, son. You both are welcome to. We're put here on earth to help one another."

"Thank you, Mr. Nash." Friday followed Harley John down the steps. "Would you like us to bring you back a bowl of ice cream?"

"Nope. I'll come get some and see what that old goat Marvin is up to."

Friday nodded, then he and Harley John walked around the corner of the house.

"What was that all about?" Harley John whispered.

"Lars suggested I talk to J.B. about the war. I'm glad he did. I haven't asked, Harley John, and it's none of my business, but if you're having nightmares or feeling angry for no reason, that sort of thing, J.B. seems like a good person to talk to. Also, you know you can talk to me."

"I do know that. I haven't felt the anger, but the nightmares are real. I don't have them when I'm with Sadie, but when I'm not, I usually wake up from a dream that I'm on fire. I suppose that goes back to being caught in the blast when the Germans bombed that fuel truck. If I manage to avoid the burning-up- alive dream, it's replaced with the grisly images from when we went over the top."

"I have those nightmares too, Harley John. Talk to J.B. You might find it helpful."

"I will."

Friday looked around for Molly, but she was seated in the midst of a group of young women. Half of them had toddlers and babies, and it looked like Molly intended to get a turn at holding each one of the youngsters.

After filling their bowls with a sampling of vanilla, chocolate, and cherry ice cream, Friday was sure he'd never be hungry again, but he and Harley John both went back for second servings.

Some of the men, both young and old, engaged in games of horseshoes. The children played tag, and the women looked happy just to sit and relax in the shade.

Dusk approached, and the guests departed, leaving family—which still seemed like half the town to Friday—to the task of cleaning up. The women took charge of dirty dishes and linens while the men broke down the tables, carrying the wood and sawhorses out to Lars' shop. The benches and folding wooden chairs were hauled out to a storage building.

As they worked, Kade told a funny story. "I got called out to the river yesterday. Seems a group of young ladies happened upon a man with no clothes on."

"What?" Garrett asked as he packed one end of a pile of plywood boards.

"That's right. Naked as the day he was born. I won't name names, but he isn't the brightest lightbulb to ever shine," Kade said. "He decided to cool off in the heat and left every last thread of his clothing on the bank. When he returned to the spot to get dressed, everything was gone. He was standing there, trying to decide what to do, when the girls happened upon him. They had the same idea about cooling off but were all in swimming outfits. One of them gave him a towel, then they hurried to the nearest house and called in the incident. We caught two yahoos an hour later at the drugstore. One of them had the jaybird's clothes on, and the other one had his billfold."

"So, the lesson is to not leave your things unattended, or is it to avoid diving naked into the river?" Garrett asked with a teasing smirk.

"Both." Kade grinned. "I wish I could have seen his face when he came out of the river, and the girls spied him. His face was still four shades of red when I drove him home."

Friday listened to the men in Molly's family laugh and joke as they worked. They were a jovial group, and they went out of their way to make him feel included.

When everything was put away, Harley John pointed to the pasture behind the house. "Go through that gate and up the hill. There's a log bench where Sadie and I have had some good talks."

"Talks, huh?" Friday said, giving Harley John a playful shove. "I'm sure there wasn't any spooning going on."

"Not a bit," Harley John said with a grin. "Just keep an eye out for the bull."

"That's encouraging," Friday said dryly, then followed Harley John inside the house. They'd both shed their suit coats and ties earlier, and had rolled their shirtsleeves up to their elbows. Friday thought about dashing upstairs to change, but then Molly was suddenly there, looking as lovely as he'd ever seen her in a white gauzy dress that dripped with pale-blue lace around the hem and sleeves that ended just above her elbows. The blue sash at her waist gave the dress an elegant appearance, or perhaps it was the girl wearing it.

All evening, he'd admired her from afar. Several times, she'd looked up and caught his gaze, giving him a soft smile that let him know she was pleased he was there.

If he'd gone right over and sat beside her, Molly wouldn't have minded, but he wanted her to have all the time she wished to spend with the people who had come to welcome her home. He knew they'd have time together at the end of the evening, and now that time had arrived.

"Ready for that walk you promised?" Friday asked as Molly took another step toward him.

"Almost. Will you give me a few minutes to change? The best place to walk is through the pasture, but I don't want this dress to get ruined. It will only take a moment."

Before he could answer, Molly was dashing up the stairs. He followed her and went to his room, shedding the rest of his suit and pulling on the pair of jeans and the cotton shirt he'd had on earlier. He tugged on his boots, then stepped into the hall as Molly opened the door and stepped out of her room.

She motioned her hand to him, and he walked to her, the two of them meshing their fingers together as they quietly made their way down the back stairs, out the side door, and ran to the pasture gate.

Friday opened it, waited for Molly to skip through, then closed it behind them before taking her hand in his as they dashed up the hill. It wasn't until they were seated on a bench with a marvelous view of the approaching sunset that Friday felt like he could truly relax. Molly shifted so her back was against his chest. He loosely wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her fragrant head.

"You smell nice," he said quietly, not meaning the words to escape. However, when she glanced back at him, looking pleased, he was glad they had.

"Thank you, kind sir. You looked quite handsome in your suit. I'd never seen you in anything but your uniform. Although, I think I like seeing you in jeans and your cotton shirt best. You seem more like my Friday."

"I like the sound of being your Friday. As long as we're palavering about wardrobe options, I'll tell you how beautiful you looked at the party. You made that dress look quite lovely. Today is the first time I've seen you wearing something other than a uniform. The dress you have on now is also pretty."

He fingered the edge of the wide collar of the blue calico dress Molly wore. He could tell it was what his mother would call a chore dress, but the blue background with little pink flowers quite suited Molly.

"I appreciate the thoughtful words, Friday. Mama and Aunt Ilsa made the dress for the party. In fact, I found four new dresses waiting for me when I searched through my clothes this morning. I think every time they made one for Sadie, they made one for me as well and saved it for when I could enjoy them." She was quiet a moment, then sighed. "I guess we have only seen each other during the war. What an odd thing. We've lived just a few hours away from each other our whole lives and ended up meeting in France in the middle of a war."

"It will be a good story to share with—" Friday snapped his mouth shut before he finished the sentence. He was going to say grandchildren , but that seemed a little premature to be talking about them when he wasn't even sure he was worthy of asking Molly to marry him.

Molly glanced back at him again, her gaze intent on his face as though she knew what he'd planned to say. She turned back to the sun that was dropping lower in the summer sky. She wiggled slightly, settling more comfortably against him. Friday kissed her temple, then leaned back on the bench, as content and happy as he'd been in a long time, maybe ever.

"I know we have so much we need to talk about, Friday, so many things we should discuss, but once the sun sets, we'll have to head back to the house. You do not want to catch the bull unawares in the dark. Would you mind terribly if we postpone the conversation about future plans for a day or two?"

"No, Mame. That's fine." And it was. Friday didn't want to ruin the memories of this day with a discussion that may or may not turn out the way he hoped. He knew avoiding it wouldn't change anything, but they would talk tomorrow or the next day before he went home. "Let's watch this glorious sunset and not think about anything beyond how blessed we are to have this moment together."

"We are so blessed, Friday, for so many reasons. We made it home in one piece. We survived our time in France. We have our health when so many don't. We have people who love us. Plenty of good food to eat. A beautiful evening with the crickets serenading us. We also have a wonderful friend in Harley John. He introduced us. He's the reason you are here tonight. And I'm fairly certain he told you to bring me up here."

"All true." Friday watched as the sun dipped into the horizon and the sky filled with such brilliant, vibrant colors it was like seeing poppies and marigolds melting into a sea of purple violets.

"I've missed this," Molly whispered in awe.

"It's spectacular," he said quietly, afraid of disturbing the magic of the evening that enveloped them. He glanced down at Molly, with the burnished light flowing over her, and felt his heart catch and then skip a beat. "You are spectacular, Mame."

"Compliments are always welcome," she said in a teasing tone, then glanced back at him. Her smile softened, and the embers in her eyes ignited until the fiery light of the sunset danced in their depths.

Friday brushed his lips over Molly's, lightly at first, then the sparks between them ignited and fueled the fervor he felt for her but worked quite diligently to control.

He didn't know when he lifted her onto his lap or buried his hands into her hair. Seeing it in a braid earlier had made his fingers itch to free the strands so he could touch them, wrap them around his hands, and feel the silken ribbons over his work-roughed fingers.

Before Friday could curtail his yearning for her, he heard a loud whistle. Molly jerked back from him and looked in the direction of the house. "That is Dad's way of saying we've been out here alone long enough."

"He's not wrong in thinking I should get you back home." Friday set Molly on her feet, stood, and took her hand.

Molly whistled back, then they made their way down the hill. Molly wrapped both hands around Friday's arm as they walked and didn't let go until they stood outside the guest room door.

How he longed to hold her and kiss her, to never let her go. It seemed he had found in Molly the one his soul was meant to love.

"Good night, Friday. Sleep well," she said, then released him and rushed down the stairs.