Chapter Eighteen

T he aroma of sausages, coffee, and cinnamon joined the fragrance of roses that drifted in the open bedroom window, pulling Molly from a sound sleep.

Despite the nerves she'd felt most of the previous day, she'd slept peacefully, awakening rested and ready for the day.

Now that she had met Friday's parents and his sister April, whom Molly already adored, she wasn't as anxious about meeting the rest of his family.

Molly hurried to pull on a new summer dress with a belted waist in a shade of blue that was almost turquoise. It featured a white lace collar, sleeves that came to her elbows, and a wider skirt meant for walking. She slipped on a pair of sensible shoes she'd brought along instead of the fashionable shoes that tied in a bow in the front that she'd worn on the train the day before. After combing her hair in the mirror above the dresser and pinning it up in the soft style Friday seemed to like best, she quietly made her way downstairs to the bathroom.

When she stepped out of it, she could hear voices in the kitchen. She walked into the room to find Friday setting the table while his mother scooped scrambled eggs into a bowl.

"Good morning," Molly said brightly, feeling joy in the day and the endless possibilities it held.

"Morning, Molly girl," Friday said, giving her a kiss on her cheek, then whispering, "That's another dress you make look pretty."

She smiled at him and then at his mother.

"Did you sleep well, Molly?" Fiona asked.

"I slept wonderfully well, thank you." Molly took the bowl of eggs and set it on the table. "Was I mistaken, or did I smell roses outside my window?"

"Your nose is right on the money," Friday said, pouring coffee into thick mugs. "Ma's rose bed is beneath your window. You can look at them after breakfast if you like."

"Thank you. I'd like that very much."

They'd just finished placing the food on the table when Aiden hurried inside and washed up, then joined them.

"What a fine morning it is. Two lovely ladies around the table and a bounty of food to enjoy." Aiden smiled at Molly, then looked at Friday. "Would you offer the blessing, son?"

They bowed their heads, and Molly listened as Friday gave thanks for the new day, the meal before them, and the loved ones around them. She was especially pleased when he prayed for guidance through the day and hearts that were open to the Master's direction.

"Amen," Molly said. Tenderly, she squeezed Friday's hand.

Breakfast was pleasant, and the conversation flowed without any of the awkward silences that seemed to occur when one was meeting new people.

After they'd eaten, Molly helped Fiona with the dishes, then Friday returned to the kitchen to take her on a tour around the farm.

He showed her the flower beds and garden, the barn and outbuildings. They stopped to pet the horses and fed them a few carrots he'd snitched from the garden.

A dog followed them that Friday introduced as Zeb. He looked old and weary but wagged his tail and licked Molly's hand when she gave him several pats and scratches along his back.

"Careful, or you'll make a flea-bitten best friend," Friday teased as they continued on their way.

She saw Fiona's prized laying hens, the milk cows, the pigs, and goats, as well as a donkey named Mule.

"Why is your donkey named Mule?" Molly asked as Friday reached over the fence to pet the animal.

"Because of pure stubbornness. Mule won't do anything unless it's her idea. Besides, she's Ma's pet, so her place at the farm has a lifetime guarantee."

Molly laughed and followed Friday as he took her to see their fruit orchard. They had apple, pear, cherry, and plum trees, as well as a thicket of blackberries.

"Let's go back to the house for a minute, then we'll continue our tour," he said, leading her to the house. "You might want your hat, Molly, and a handkerchief. I'll meet you back in the kitchen."

Molly went upstairs to retrieve a hat. She hoped she wasn't going to get all dirty because she'd only brought the one. She tucked a handkerchief into her pocket along with a package of gum and a few coins, then returned downstairs. After a stop in the bathroom, she walked into the kitchen to find Friday tucking an old quilt over a picnic basket.

"A picnic?" she asked, looking from him to his mother.

"Friday thought you might enjoy one after he shows you the nut orchard. It's delightful there."

"How wonderful. Thank you for thinking of it." Molly smiled at Fiona. "Thank you for whatever delicious things are in the picnic basket."

"You're most welcome, Molly. Have a grand time."

Molly followed Friday out to a small, light buggy hitched to one of the horses she had fed carrots to earlier. Friday assisted her into the buggy, climbed in beside her, and off they went to see the walnut and hazelnut trees.

Friday talked about the process of growing nuts, and Molly asked questions about harvesting them. She had no idea there were different kinds of walnuts and hazelnuts, the latter of which some people referred to as filberts. She learned the Fitzpatrick family mostly raised English walnuts but also had some black walnut trees.

"Did you know walnuts are among the oldest food grown on trees? The Romans called walnuts ‘Jupiter's royal acorn.' What a title!" Friday said as the buggy followed a path through the orchards that wound higher into the hills. When they reached the top of a hill, with the orchards below them and the house looking small in the distance, Molly could see for miles. She spied the town of Dundee, and the railroad tracks running north and south through it.

"It's spectacular, Friday! I love this view." Molly drank in the peacefulness of the vista before her. "No wonder your father said it is wonderful to see in the autumn. It must be absolutely glorious."

"It is, and I'll bring you up here to see it then." Friday held the reins in one hand and placed the other around her. "Do you really like it here, Molly girl?"

"I do. It's fantastic, and so different from Pendleton."

"Is that good or bad?" he asked, looking like he sought clarification.

"Neither. Just … different." Molly kissed his cheek, then pointed to the picnic basket beneath the seat. "Now, about this picnic lunch. Where are you taking me? Are we eating here?"

"No. But it's not too far. Are you starving?"

"Famished," Molly said with a laugh, even though she'd eaten a hearty breakfast.

Friday followed the road at the top of the hill, then turned off it and drove along what was barely more than a path through some trees. When he stopped the horse, it was in a clearing near a wide rocky stream, with an incredible view of a snow-covered mountain in the distance.

Molly took the hand Friday offered and walked closer to the stream, her eyes on the mountain, on trees in every hue of green, as well as the water rippling in the stream. She adjusted her hat, pulling it down to shade her eyes from the sun, and stared into the blue summer sky, committing it all to her memory to take out and enjoy on some dreary, gray winter day.

When she turned to look back at Friday, she realized she was standing in a patch of flowers growing wild.

Poppies.

She was surrounded by poppies. They made her think of the war but also the blossom Friday had mailed to her that she'd pressed inside her journal.

"No wonder you spoke so fondly of your home, Friday. It's wondrous," Molly said, going back to where he'd spread the quilt in the shade of the trees and set the picnic basket on one corner.

"I'm pleased more than you can know that you like it here, Mame. So pleased." He held out a hand to her. She took it and settled onto the quilt, then Friday eased down beside her.

She wanted to ask about his side but held her tongue. Instead, she watched as Friday unpacked what appeared to be a feast. Molly bowed her head, and Friday asked a blessing on their meal.

He handed her a jar of well water that was crisp and refreshing, even if not terribly cold.

Fiona had made fried meat-filled pastries for their lunch. They enjoyed them along with slices of cheese, a jar of pickles, fresh peaches, and half a dozen chocolate cookies dotted with hazelnuts.

"What a fabulous meal," Molly said as she bit into one of the cookies. She was full, but everything had tasted good.

"Ma's pretty handy in the kitchen, but you sure have some fine cooks in Pendleton."

"We do. Aunt Caterina is amazing, and Aunt Aundy is quite a wonderful cook. Mama's pretty good at it, but she doesn't get into the kitchen very often. That is Gertie's domain. However, if Aunt Ilsa ever offers you something she made, pretend to take a bite but don't actually swallow. Uncle Tony said her food should come with a hazard warning."

Friday chuckled, and Molly leaned back, enjoying the peaceful, beautiful day spent with a handsome, amazing man she loved with all her heart.

Perhaps they didn't need to worry about their future. About where they'd live if they did wed, or how they'd make things work. Maybe they just needed to enjoy the moment and leave the rest up to God's direction.

"You want to rest a little while?" Friday asked after he'd packed the dishes and leftovers in the picnic basket.

Molly removed her hat, kicked off her shoes, and moved so she was resting flat on her back, staring up at the clouds dotting the sky.

Friday followed her example and tossed his hat aside, removed his shoes and socks, and glanced back at her.

"Will it offend your delicate sensibilities if I take off my shirt to get some sun like Nik directed?"

"Not in the least, Friday. You forget I grew up in a house teeming with boys." Molly tried not to stare as he unbuttoned his shirt and set it to the side. He had so many scars on his back that it made tears clog her throat just to look at them. Not because of the way they looked but because of the pain he'd endured. Some of the scars were small. Some long. Some had been deep. A few looked like burns. She bet there wasn't a three-inch square of skin on his back that didn't have some mark of the war upon it.

Her instinct was to kiss each and every spot, but that wouldn't have been proper. Besides, the two of them barely held their passion in check as it was, and now was not the time to let it run wild.

Friday scooted around so he could rest with his side in the sunshine, his head pillowed on her thigh. That wasn't exactly appropriate, but she decided to let it slide because, from his position there, she could easily reach down and run her fingers through his thick dark hair. She traced the contours of his face, then he caught her hand, kissed her palm, and pressed it to his chest.

The next thing Molly knew, she felt something brush her lips and realized it was Friday giving her a kiss.

He had on his shirt, shoes, and socks. She could tell by the position of the sun they'd both fallen asleep. She was irritated with herself for wasting precious time with him in sleep.

"You looked like a princess from a fairy tale, sleeping so peacefully. I hated to wake you," Friday said as he stood.

Molly pulled on her shoes, settled her hat back on her head, and gave the lovely landscape another look before she folded the quilt and let Friday give her a hand into the buggy.

On the way back to the farm, they talked about crops that were raised in the area, and Friday shared humorous stories from his childhood.

It seemed they could talk about everything but their future. Molly hoped there would be time enough to discuss it before she left the following afternoon, even if all they did was decide to wait a while and see what direction life took them in the coming months. She planned to attend church with Friday, eat lunch with his family, then board the train and be home that evening.

It really wasn't all that far to travel, and now that she'd made the trip once, it would be an easy thing to make the trip to Dundee again. Friday also knew the way to Pendleton and Dogwood Corners.

The idea of courting came back to her. They could write letters. After all, it was Friday's letters that had captured her interest. They'd made her fall deeper and deeper in love with him with each one he'd sent.

Now that she'd been able to spend time with him the past few days, she realized their love was something that could and would endure if given a chance.

Friday stopped the buggy again at the top of the hill. "I always thought this would be a fine spot for a house. There's no view any better in the whole county."

"It would be a magnificent view," Molly agreed, wondering if that were Friday's way of saying he wanted to stay in Dundee. Unable to continue hedging around the discussion that loomed over them like a heavy cloud, she turned to Friday and spoke her mind. "Friday, I love you. I have since we met, and I will until I die, but what do you want? What do you want for our future? Do you have any plans? Thoughts? Intentions?"

Friday stared at her a moment, then drove the buggy over to a shady spot. He set the brake and leaned back. "Let's just talk this out, Molly. I've been wanting to, but I didn't know where to begin. I love you so much that it scares me sometimes. I've never felt like this about anyone, and I'm sure I won't ever again. What I want is you. I would like to one day marry you, but this is not a proposal. You'll know without a doubt when I'm asking. This is just talking about what our future could look like. I love it here and could see us having a home right on this hilltop if Pop is willing to sell me a few acres. We could build a house, but it would take time, and I want to do right by you, Mame. To provide well for you. I could also see us living in Pendleton. I think I could do fairly well at farming, but the problem would be buying the land, building a house, and getting started. It takes a bit of money to do that, and I'm not sure I've got enough saved up. Honestly, I'm not nearly as worried about where we live as how we live. You've grown up at Dogwood Corners. I can't ever hope to give you a place like that, but I want you to have a nice home with comforts, Molly. I don't want you to have to work yourself to death or pinch every penny. So, I guess my thoughts are that when I have enough money to get started, I'd sure like to start with you by my side."

"Don't you know, Friday, I'd rather live as a pauper with you than anywhere else without you. I don't care about a fancy home or comforts, as you put it. All that is important to me is being with you. But …" Molly sighed and looked into the distance. "I feel so … restless, I guess is the best word. My work in France was always exciting and hectic and important. I was doing something useful, something vital. I can't go back to work at the switchboard. I just can't. And beyond that, I don't know what to do. I can't live with my parents forever, although they'd certainly let me. I need something that gives me purpose. I need to make a difference."

"You do, Molly. You are so loved by everyone. You make a difference to them just by being you."

"That's very kind of you to say, and I appreciate it, but I need to do more, Friday. I need to feel like I'm part of something bigger than just one person."

Friday wrapped his arm around her and she leaned against him, leaned into his strength. It felt so good and right to rest there that she decided maybe some big grand thing wasn't nearly as important as just being with him.

"I'll make a suggestion, Molly girl, and you can do with it whatever you like."

"What is it?" she asked.

"I think you should write your story."

"My story?" Molly tilted her head to look at him. "The story of being an orphan?"

"No, that's not what I meant, although that is a worthwhile part of the story," he said, leaning down to kiss her nose before straightening. "Write what it was like to be a Signal Corps girl. Tell the world about what you did. I think you would inspire other women to reach for their dreams. I know from your letters you write well and in a way that keeps the reader's attention."

She smiled at him. "You just say that because you love me and were hanging on my every word like I clung to each of yours."

"There is some of that, but I really do think you could write a book women would want to read. A book that gives them hope. A book that lets them know women can do big, incredible things that at one time seemed impossible. I mean, look at Sadie. She's a doctor and one of the few females who served in France. You are one of the Hello Girls, and before you scowl at me, I know you aren't fond of that name, but it's what everyone calls you. Think of the nurses who served, like Alexa and Britta. All of you are impressive, intelligent, and inspiring. In particular, you are courageous, beautiful, and brave. Let that be your thing, Mame. Inspire a new generation of girls to become impressive, intelligent, courageous, inspiring women."

Molly was so taken aback by Friday's words she could only sit in silence, trying to absorb everything he said. Was he right? Would other women find her story to be inspiring? Would a book about her experiences give a struggling female hope?

It was certainly something to consider.

"Friday, you never cease to amaze me. I admire you so much and admire your opinion. I never considered writing a book, but I will give it some thought. Thank you." Molly sat up and faced him again. "As for figuring out our future, it isn't like we have to be in a rush. You need time for your side to heal. I need time to adjust to being a civilian again. I think we'd be wise to give courting a try since we really haven't had much of an opportunity to do it. Maybe once a month we could visit each other for a few days. Say in August, I come back here, and in September, you come to Pendleton because you absolutely must attend the Round-Up this year."

With excitement shimmering in his beautiful blue eyes, he took her hands in his. "That's a sound plan, Mame. We won't rush into things. We'll give ourselves time to find our footing, then we'll be ready to move forward together." He cupped her chin and kissed her sweetly. "For the record, I will happily live anywhere as long as you are there."

"Noted." Molly gave him a quick kiss, then scooted over on the seat. "Now, we best get back before your mother thinks I've absconded with you."

Friday laughed. "Wouldn't that be a scandal? Shall we start the rumor?"

"No, we shall not!" Molly playfully slugged his arm, then scooted close to him as he picked up the reins, released the brake, and continued back to the house.

They arrived to find the yard buzzing with visitors. Molly had hoped to have a chance to wash up and change into a fresh dress, but Friday didn't seem the least bit concerned.

He took her hand, led her into the fray, and introduced her to his sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces, and nephews. A few neighbors were there, as well as the parents of two of his brothers-in-law.

Molly was sure she'd never keep them all straight. She found May and June, Friday's older sisters to be as full of fun as April. They were all pretty girls who looked alike and bore the same Fitzpatrick resemblance that Friday and his father shared. Hank, Jack and Adam—Friday's brothers-in-law—reminded Molly of her uncles. They were friendly solid men who seemed devoted to their wives and children, and respectful of Friday's parents.

She heard Friday mutter, "Oh, boy," and turned to watch a young woman with golden hair and wide blue eyes, dressed in a pink frock bedecked with too many ribbons and frills for a grown woman to wear, make her way through the crowd. She reminded Molly of a preening bird. It was clear she thought quite a lot of herself and not much of those around her.

Before Friday could make an introduction, Molly surmised the arrogant young woman was his younger sister.

January grabbed on to Friday's arm and clung to it when she got within reach of him, as though he were a possession she didn't intend to share.

Friday pushed her hands away, then took a step closer to Molly, placing his hand on her back. "Miss Molly Thorsen, this is my sister, January."

"Miss Fitzpatrick. Friday has often mentioned you." Molly's words were true, even if she'd omitted the detail that when he spoke of January it was usually with irritation in his voice.

"How nice of you to join us, Miz Thorton. I could show you inside so you could freshen up since you look rather rumpled. How old are you? Are you sure she's not too old for you, Friday?"

Molly was so shocked by the girl's rudeness, hidden behind a false smile, and a voice dripping with honey, she couldn't find the words to reply.

"Oh, look, Jan. Isn't that Billy Hartley over there?" Friday said, pointing to a wagon stopping out by the barn.

January turned and flounced off, leaving behind a cloud of stout perfume.

"What did our horrid little sister say?" April asked as she came up on Molly's other side. "I'll tell Pop she was rude and get her sent to her room for the evening."

"It's fine," Molly said, not wanting to be the reason for any strife in the Fitzpatrick home.

"It's not fine, but getting her sent to her room will only make things worse. One of these days, that girl is going to have to grow up, and when that day comes, it's going to be a big, bitter pill for Jan to swallow," Friday said, glaring over his shoulder at January as she fawned all over a slender young man dressed in a tailored suit.

"Let's not give her another thought," April said. "I promise we won't let her get close again, Molly, and I'll make sure she isn't here tonight. Adam will divorce me if I bring her home with us again, but I'll see if May or June will take a turn."

April hurried off toward her sisters as they helped Fiona carry food out of the house.

"Would Adam really divorce her?" Molly asked in a whisper.

"Never. Not in a million years. He's wild about her," Friday said, pointing to where Adam snuck up behind April and stole a kiss before she could reach May and June.

Molly smiled to see the love shared between the couple. It seemed to her, with the exception of January, they were all wonderful, kind, loving people. The kind of people Molly could easily come to love.

The potluck dinner made her think of home, with children running and playing while the adults laughed and teased. The food was plentiful and good, and there was even ice cream to end the evening. Molly tried the peach ice cream and found it tasty, then snitched bites of Friday's chocolate ice cream.

May, June, and April all complimented Molly on her appearance and asked if the dress was one of Ilsa's creations. She told them about her mother working with Ilsa and coming home to several new dresses.

"Wouldn't that be wonderful?" May mused, then looked down as her youngest son wiped his nose on her skirt. "Not that a fine dress would do me any good."

June grinned. "One day, the boys will be all grown up, and I'll tell them they have to buy you a new dress for every birthday."

"I like that plan," May said with an impish grin. "Will you put that in writing and have Adam make it a binding contract?"

They all laughed, and Molly found herself feeling like part of them, part of their family. As long as she avoided January, everyone welcomed Molly like she belonged there and always would.

"I heard Friday took you for a picnic today. Did you have fun?" June asked as they carried dirty dishes into the kitchen.

"Did you let him steal any kisses?" April questioned, bumping Molly with her hip.

"We had a wonderful day. He took me to the top of the hill above the orchard. It's gorgeous up there, and we ate lunch by a peaceful stream. It really was such a lovely day, and so kind of your mother to make the picnic lunch for us. I'm sure she had a hundred things to do with this gathering this evening. Honestly, I feel bad she's had to go to so much extra work."

"Don't. Ma loves parties. She'd have one every week if Pop would let her. Your arrival was a good excuse to host one tonight," April said as she started washing dishes. "You'll still join us for lunch tomorrow, won't you?"

"I'm planning on it. Friday didn't say where we're having lunch, though."

"At my house," April said, handing a plate to June to dry while Molly and May put food away. "We live in town, and it's convenient to come there right after church."

"I'll look forward to seeing your home, April."

They talked about everyday things, then the sisters started telling funny stories about Friday when he was a boy.

Molly was laughing so hard she had to stop drying the platter in her hand and set it down before she dropped it. Suddenly, everyone grew quiet, and Molly looked over to see January in the doorway, a look of fury on her face.

Before anyone could say a word, January turned and marched outside.

"Just ignore her," April said, returning to the task of washing the mountain of dishes. "Ma spoiled her beyond the point of redemption. I don't know if it was because she was the baby or because she was the only one of us to get hair the same color as Ma's used to be."

"We all shoulder the blame because we all doted on her. She looked like a doll, a real live doll when she was little, and she got used to being the center of all the attention. The older she got, the more she demanded the attention, and you can see the monster that has created," May said. "I think Friday has been struggling not to throttle her some days. It infuriates him to see her laze around while Ma works so hard."

Molly was sure May's observations were accurate but kept her thoughts to herself.

"Do you mind if we ask you about your service in the war, Molly?" June asked, changing the subject. "If you'd rather not discuss it, just tell us."

"No, I don't mind. What would you like to know?"

The three sisters asked her questions about what she did and where she lived. She showed them the scar on her hand and talked about how some experiences in the war had been frightening, and others she'd found to be thrilling.

"Friday suggested I should write a book. He thinks it will encourage girls to grow up to be women who are inspiring, courageous, and intelligent."

"You forgot impressive, Mame," Friday said as he stepped into the kitchen with a stack of dessert plates. "You've always impressed me."

He kissed her cheek, then scurried out of the room before May could snap him with her damp dish towel.

"Friday's idea is a good one. I know I'd read it," April said, glancing over her shoulder at Molly. "I think I speak for all of us when we say we're so happy Friday fell in love with you, Molly."

Molly grinned at the sisters. "I'm pretty happy about that too."

The following morning, though, all the happiness Molly had felt the previous day was leached from her like water spilling through a sieve.

When they arrived at church that morning, it seemed as if every eligible young female in the county was there waiting for a chance to flirt with Friday. He appeared as bewildered by the attention as Molly felt, but when she caught January sneering at her from the pew across the aisle, Molly knew who was behind it all.

After the service was over, while Molly was speaking with the pastor and his wife, January stopped Friday on the lawn where the women soon surrounded him as they clamored for his attention.

When Molly stepped onto the lawn, January rushed over, her rosebud lip spewing venom as she whispered in her ear, "You see, Miz Thorton, Friday could have any girl in the world he wanted. What on earth makes you think it will be an old maid like you? Go back to your town. Podunk, isn't it? Go back there and leave him be."

Never in her life had Molly so desperately wanted to execute an act of violence against another human as she did in that moment. She envisioned grabbing on to those rosy little lips and twisting them into a grimace, then slapping the superior smirk from January's pink face.

The temptation to march over to ask the preacher to marry her and Friday right then and there nearly overtook Molly. It would show January that Friday would happily wed Molly. But she didn't. A marriage out of spite was just as bad if not worse than one made without love.

Instead, Molly chose to be the bigger person. Head held high, back straight, chin lifted, she walked over to June and April, swallowing the words about January that might one day come back to haunt her.

April finally sent Adam to rescue Friday, but not before he'd been petted and pawed at like a prize-winning show dog.

Rattled by the feminine attention poured over Friday, Molly then watched the community interact with him. It was obvious he was loved by people of all ages and seen as a son of Dundee, not just the Fitzpatrick family. Several people commented on what a lucky girl she was to win his affection and shared with her about thoughtful and caring things he'd done through the years.

The more she heard, the more convinced she became that Friday belonged in Dundee. He was part of the town and the people, and his heart and soul were tied to the farm where he was raised.

Then and there, Molly concluded she couldn't live in Dundee. Not when January despised her so deeply she'd attempted a matchmaking event at the church service just to thwart Molly's interest in Friday.

Molly's presence would create a rift in the family because no matter what, Molly was certain Fiona would always take January's side, and Aiden, in support of his wife, would do the same.

Despite the love she felt for Friday all the way down to her soul, she couldn't make Dundee her home. Not when January's hatred was a palpable thing.

Not when Molly's life felt so unsettled and unsure.

If Friday had a lick of sense, he'd marry the nicest of the horde of girls hanging all over him, settle down, raise a family, and continue the legacy his grandparents had built on the hills just outside of town.

Because she loved him without question, without conditions, Molly knew she needed to walk away from Friday. It was best for him, although it would destroy her heart.

Friday loved his family—adored them, actually—and that included January, even if Molly couldn't think of anyone more detestable than the lazy, selfish girl. January would never accept Molly, and Molly refused to be the reason for contention within the Fitzpatrick family.

She smiled and sat between April and June at lunch, holding April's adorable baby as she ate and doing her best to ignore Friday's concerned glances from across the table.

Once the meal was finished, it was time for Molly to catch the train. She thanked April and Adam for their hospitality, as well as Aiden and Fiona. She swallowed down the tears threatening to spill over when Fiona, then June, May, and April all told her how grateful they were she'd come into Friday's life. Aiden had even given her a hug and said he hoped she would come back soon.

When Friday walked her to the depot carrying her bag, Molly had to use every trick she'd learned in her work to keep from breaking down into sobs.

"What's going on, Mame? You've not been yourself since we arrived at church. If it's about that gaggle of ninnies January sicced on me, I'm not interested in any of them. I intend to set January straight on a few things later, but for now, I'm sorry about that whole thing. You know you are the only girl for me."

"No, Friday, I'm not. Being here, seeing you with your family and the community that loves you so much, I realized I'm not the girl for you. If I stayed, if we wed, we both know the day will come when that will interfere with your family, and you'd have to make a choice. I can't put you into a position like that, Friday. I just can't. I'm going to leave, and we'll say goodbye today. You'll find some sweet girl everyone in your family adores and live a happy life up on your hilltop. Be sure you follow Nik's orders to rest and give yourself a chance to heal."

The conductor made a call to board.

Molly took her bag from Friday, who stood stiff and still as though he were utterly stunned. The way he remained unmoving reminded her of the day she'd first seen him outside the mess hall with Harley John. Another crack severed her heart at the thought of how fascinated she'd been with him even then.

"I love you, Friday, but I want you to be happy. You won't be if you marry me. Have a good life. One full of joy." She kissed his cheek one last time, fighting the urge to hold on to him and never let go. "Goodbye."

Before he could stop her, before he could say a word, Molly ran onto the platform and boarded the train. She waited until it pulled out of the station to glance out the window and saw Friday still hadn't moved.

The tears came then. Big silent drops that drenched her handkerchief, as well as the one the porter gave to her when she could have wrung salt water out of hers. She cried all the way back to Pendleton, wondering if the shattered pieces of her heart would ever heal.