Deal Me In

MOLLY STOPPED at a drugstore on her way to pick Sam up at school and bought a map of Texas. Next she stopped at the bank and withdrew her entire savings, two thousand three hundred and twelve dollars. Not a fortune, but enough to get by for a couple of weeks if things didn’t work out at Cross Fox Ranch. And she had her credit card, which, thankfully, now had a low balance. At least she’d accomplished something worthwhile since Kevin had died. Living with her father, she’d managed to pay off some bills she and her husband had accumulated.

By the time she pulled into the driveway at her father’s house, Molly had a plan. When she reached River Bluff, her first stop would be Cross Fox Ranch. She’d told Brady Carrick he’d be responsible for her board, but even if that didn’t work out, she and Sam could stay in a motel while she looked for a part-time job. While Sam was at school, she’d divide her time between job hunting and learning poker.

If she eventually won a big pot in Vegas, then her future would be secure. She’d put that money toward opening a consignment shop for kids’ clothes. She’d got the idea when she was pregnant with Sam and picking up second-hand baby clothes and supplies. Maybe she’d even open up shop in River Bluff if she liked the small town. With her two years of college math, she could run a bookkeeping service on the side.

And if I don’t win at the U.S. Poker Play-offs… Molly unlocked the front door of her father’s house, followed Sam inside and set her purse on the hall table. Well, Uncle Cliff said there was always a place for me at thediner. It’s not like I haven’t gone back before.

She smiled at Sam. “You want some cookies, cowboy?”

He nodded, and went to the sink to wash his hands before sitting at the kitchen table. She set him up with milk and Oreos, sat beside him and ran her fingers through his sandy-brown hair. “Where’s that happy face, Sammy?”

His lips curled up at the edges in an effort to please her, and Molly’s heart ached. Sam didn’t smile nearly enough for a seven-year-old. Maybe all that would change once they got away from this stifling environment.

She glanced at the kitchen clock. Three-thirty. Her father would be home soon. He would meditate for an hour and then expect dinner promptly at six. She could depend on that. Luther Whelan never altered his schedule.

AT SEVEN-THIRTY, after she’d put the last dinner plate in the cupboard, Molly checked to make sure Sam’s door was closed and then went into the living room to face her father. Engrossed in the newspaper, he didn’t acknowledge her when she came in the room. “Dad?”

He looked up. “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you.”

He set his spectacles on the end table. “What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I just have news.”

He waited.

“I’m leaving Prairie Bend tomorrow. Sam and I are moving.”

He set the newspaper on his lap. “Don’t talk nonsense, Molly Jean.”

“It’s not nonsense.” She used the same lie she’d told Uncle Cliff earlier. “Friends have asked me to come to the San Antonio area. I have a job lined up that will support Sam and me…”

He looked around his neat, uncomplicated living room. “You don’t need to go anywhere. You’ve got everything a woman could want right here. I take care of you better than that husband of yours ever did.”

“I know you provide a home for us, Dad, but it’s not enough. Not for me and not for Sam.”

He glowered at her. “You’re not taking my grandson away,” he stated as if it were an indisputable fact.

“Sam is my son. He’s going where I go.”

“I won’t hear of it. Sam needs a strong hand, which he won’t get under your influence. If that mistake of a marriage didn’t teach you that—”

“A discussion of my marriage and my son is off-limits.” Molly’s stomach churned.

He exhaled deeply. “Have you forgotten that I took you back in after that…that rodeo bum died?”

“No, and I’m grateful, but that’s in the past. You don’t have to bring it up again.”

“Fine. Then let’s talk about how this irrational decision will affect me.” He rolled the newspaper and pointed it at her. “Have you considered how your actions will embarrass me in front of my congregation again? I’ve raised you on my own, Molly. It wasn’t easy after your mother left, but I’ve tried to teach you proper values. And all I’ve received for my effort is disrespect. I won’t let you make a mockery of my position in this community again.”

He wouldn’t even hear her out. He didn’t care about her feelings, her needs, just like he probably never cared about her mother’s. Molly stared at the floor, anywhere but at the fire of self-righteousness in her father’s eyes. For a man who professed to dedicate his life to forgiveness and tolerance, Luther Whelan had a hard time showing either of those to his own daughter.

But then, Molly had known how he would react. She’d made sure Sam was busy with his toys in his room so he wouldn’t have to listen to his grandfather’s harsh words, but it was a small house and she was afraid he was hearing everything. Maybe her father did care about her in his own emotionally bereft way, but the environment he provided was void of real human interaction and she had to get out. She wasn’t about to back down.

The newspaper rattled in his hands and Molly looked up. “I won’t take you back,” he said. “If you go, it’s forever.”

“I don’t want to leave like this, Dad,” she said. “But I’m going. I’m sorry—”

“You’re never sorry,” he snapped. “Those are empty words from a woman who doesn’t think of anyone but herself.” And then he said the words designed to hurt her the most. “You’re just like your mother.”

“Leave her be, Luther.”

Cliff walked into the room from the kitchen, silencing both of them. “It’s her life. She’s going and that’s that.”

Molly nearly cried. Despite his promise not to come to the house tonight, he was here. She could have kissed him right there on the spot.

“This isn’t your concern, Cliff,” Luther said.

“I’m making it my concern. Molly’s a good girl. She deserves a chance to get out of this place.”

“I won’t take her in when she comes crawling back.”

“You won’t have to. If she needs to, she can stay with Edith and me.”

Uncle Cliff waved her out of the room, asking her if she didn’t have suitcases she needed to pack. Grateful, Molly escaped any further recrimination from her father.

Now Uncle Cliff was gone and her dad sat on the front porch in the chilly January air, no doubt trying to figure out how his only child could have strayed so far. And he didn’t even know that her plans involved gambling.

At nine o’clock Molly stretched out on the twin bed next to her son, propped a pillow behind her back and crossed her ankles. She twisted the cowboy lamp on the nightstand so its light fell on the map in her lap. “You want to see where we’re going tomorrow?” she asked Sam.

“Sure, Mama. Is it a long way?”

“It’s pretty far. We’re starting here on this big road called Highway 35…” she traced a line south with her finger “…all the way to another highway, which leads us to River Bluff. That’s where we’ll stop.”

“How long will it take us to get there?”

“I’d say about four hours, depending on how often we stop.” She smiled at him. “Part of the fun of traveling is stopping along the road.”

Sam looked up at her, a worried frown marring his chubby angelic features. “I don’t think it’ll be fun at all.”

“For heaven’s sake, why not?”

“’Cause when Grandpa found out we were going, he was plenty mad. So it must not be a fun thing to do.”

“You shouldn’t worry about Grandpa, baby,” she said. “He won’t stay mad. Why, I’ll bet that in a day or two he’ll have forgotten he was angry and will want to hear all about our adventure!” If there was a way to keep communications open between her father and her son, Molly would. “You can write him a letter if you want. He’d like that.”

Molly wrapped her arm around Sam’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Besides, I think we’re going to have lots of fun. And if we don’t, then we’ll go someplace else. Texas is a big state.” She held up the map to illustrate her point. “Maybe you can pick the place next time.” She stood up, kissed his cheek and turned off the lamp. “Just go to sleep now, Sammy. I’m going to stay in your room a while to pack up your things.”