knew he spoke of the Marines, not her near-miss marriage. “I’m sorry, Eric.”
“What did I say about apologizing?” he reminded her. “Quit it.”
She smiled at his stern tone.
“I’m going to get your suitcase,” he said, heading toward the kitchen door.
Molly ducked back into the shadows of the living room, as if someone driving by might see her. Her smile widened at her overreaction. Since Eric’s cabin was off a winding private road, tucked into trees on the edge of a small lake, she doubted anyone would be driving by. But then his phone rang again. From the persistence of the phone calls, Molly was surprised someone wasn’t already pounding down the door. She’d left the note. Why wouldn’t they give her what she asked for—time alone?
Anger chasing away her guilt, she grabbed the ringing phone and shouted, “Stop calling!”
“Molly McClintock,” a woman’s voice, sharp with disapproval, admonished her. “Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady.”
Molly’s face heating, she grimaced. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”
“It doesn’t matter who’s calling. I’ve taught you better manners than that,” Mary McClintock reprimanded her oldest daughter.
The last thing Molly had expected from her mother, after leaving a groom at the altar, was a lecture on telephone etiquette.
“You did. I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes, hoping Eric hadn’t overheard her apologizing again.
Music could be heard through the receiver, nearly drowning out her mother’s soft sigh.
“Mom, where are you?”
“Your reception, honey,” her mother answered so matter-of-factly.
“My reception?” Molly repeated, totally nonplussed. “But there was no wedding.”
“We couldn’t cancel the party,” her mother explained. “Too many people worked too hard getting ready for it. And the whole town was looking forward to it. We couldn’t disappoint everyone.”
As Molly had. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one to whom you owe an apology.”
She had already talked to Joshua, the night before the wedding. It seemed the superstition about the groom seeing the bride before the ceremony was well founded. Since she’d warned him about her doubts, he couldn’t have been surprised that she’d backed out of marrying him, and he wouldn’t have been disappointed.
She suspected she hadn’t been the only one regretting their hasty engagement. But he had too much honor to retract his proposal and leave her at the altar. However, he had assured her that if she changed her mind, he would understand. She had also left an apologetic voice mail for him before she’d shut off her cell. But would any apology make up for the humiliation to which she’d subjected him?
Along with music, laughter drifted through the receiver. “Who’s there, Mom?”
“Everyone, honey, but you—you and Eric.”
“Please don’t tell anyone that I’m here.”
Her mother’s laugh echoed the noise of the other guests. “Okay. I won’t say a word. But I don’t have to.”
Of course her bridesmaids knew where she’d run off to—to whom she had run. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”
“Because they love you,” her mother said, her voice warm with affection. For Molly or her friends? Mary McClintock loved all her daughter’s friends as if they were her own children, but only one of them, Molly’s younger sister Colleen, actually was. Mrs. McClintock continued, “They’re worried about you. This isn’t like you, Molly.”
“I’m not sure what isn’t like me and what is.” She sighed. Ever since her dad had died and Eric had left for the Marines, she’d only allowed herself to focus on one thing—medical school—in order to ignore her loss and pain. “That’s why I just need to be left alone.”
“That’s fine, honey, I’ll make sure no one bothers you,” her mother agreed, “but only because you’re not alone. You have Eric.”
But she didn’t have Eric. He still hadn’t returned with her suitcase. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Sure, honey.” Her mother hung up without another word, without giving Molly a chance to ask any more questions. Everyone was at the reception. Even Josh?
Memories flashed through her mind. Not of her and her fiancé but of Joshua and the maid of honor, Brenna Kelly. The looks they’d exchanged at the rehearsal in the church and afterward at the dinner at the Kelly house had charged the air with the electricity of undeniable attraction. Josh and his twin sons had stayed with the Kellys after the rehearsal dinner, and Brenna had skipped the slumber party in order to play hostess to the groom and his boys. If Josh had gone to the reception, it might have been for the sake of Brenna. Molly hoped so. Then maybe some of her guilt over jilting not just Josh but his adorable sons might begin to ease.
His gaze drawn to Molly, Eric shouldered open the back door and dropped her suitcase on the floor. The thud of the heavy luggage against the hardwood startled her so that she whirled toward him, the cordless phone still in her hand. But the smile he’d witnessed when he’d stepped through the door quickly slid away from her beautiful face.
“You scared me,” she accused him.
She wasn’t the only one who was afraid. Eric had stayed in the barn as long as he could, steeling himself for two weeks with Molly as his houseguest—in a very small cabin. Fortunately, he had to work. That morning he’d left his supervisor a voice mail canceling the week off he’d previously arranged because he’d thought he’d be too distracted—by thoughts of Molly married to someone else—to work. Then, after backing out of the wedding party, he’d realized he would need the distraction of work.
“Did I scare you?” he asked. “Or was it whoever you just talked to?”
“No, it was you,” she said. “You’ve often scared me, Eric.”
“Then I guess that makes us even.”
She narrowed her eyes as if confused. But she never had really understood him—not in the way he understood her.
“So who was on the phone?” he asked, gesturing toward the cordless as she replaced it on the charger.
“My mom.”
He couldn’t help but smile. He loved Mrs. Mick, as Abby Hamilton had dubbed her years and years ago. Everyone loved Mary McClintock, although not like her husband had loved her. Eric knew all her kids—whether they admitted or not—wanted the deeply loving relationship their parents had had.
“Is she mad?” he asked.
Molly shook her head, tumbling those chocolate-colored curls around her shoulders. “No. You know my mom. She understands.”
“Yeah, she’s
