Free Beyond This Moment by Tamera Alexander

the boys and start all over again. Someplace far away from all the reminders, from the looks people gave me in town when they thought I wasn't watching. I don't feel that way anymore, James. This is where Thomas wanted to raise our sons, and the memories are starting to be a comfort rather than a thorn. But still, I remember. So, please, let me say this without interruption:"
    She held up a hand, smiling, and looked so much like their mother in that moment that James couldn't have spoken if he'd wanted to.
    "Don't judge Molly too harshly for wanting to try and start her life over again. I plan on doing everything I can to make her transition a good one, and I hope you will too:"
    Riding down the mountain into town, James sifted through what Rachel had said.
    And by the time he reached his office, he'd determined to set aside his doubts about Molly Whitcomb and-if she did, in fact, get the job-to do as Rachel suggested and try his best to make her transition to Timber Ridge a good one.
    On occasion, his intuition about people had been proven wrong. He reminded himself of that and chalked this up to being one of those times.
     

7
    olly slipped the last pearl button through the narrow slit in the high-neck collar and stepped back. She could only view the upper half of her reflection in the mirror mounted above James's dresser, but the dress Rachel had given her at breakfast-if one could still call the meal that, considering how late she'd slept-fit snug about her waist. But at least it fit.
    She was sore from yesterday's "crash;' as Rachel's younger son, Kurt, had referred to it, and her head ached, but the willow-bark tea Rachel had made was helping. Thankful the earlier bout of queasiness had passed, Molly smoothed a hand over her still-flat stomach, knowing it wouldn't be flat for much longer. What would she do then, once she started to show?
    "We don't have many secrets among us," James had said last night. "Or if we do, we don't keep them long."
    She searched her reflection in the mirror, able to see the deception so clearly in the dark half-moons beneath her eyes and in the tiny creases in her forehead that never seemed to smooth away. She looked as pale as she felt, and the black dress only washed out her already fair complexion and hair.
    How far developed was the child inside her? Was it a boy or a girl? Did he or she have fingers and toes yet? During the night she'd awakened, and it had occurred to her that the trauma from yesterday might have affected the baby. She'd checked for bleeding then, and again this morning, but her concern proved unwarranted. The baby's life appeared to be unharmed-and still on course to change hers irrevocably.
    And those were changes Molly didn't welcome. How could she? Knowing what was coming. And though she honestly didn't wish any harm to come to the child, she did wish it had never been conceived, which made her wonder again how Jeremy could ever have suggested what he did. She'd debated on whether or not to tell him about the baby. But finally, she'd decided she owed him that much, his being the father. His response had been chilling, and had shown what kind of man he really was. How could he begin to fathom putting an end to a child's life? She regretted its existence, but she could never follow through with what he'd suggested.
    She pressed lightly on her abdomen. Could one so young and defenseless sense the depth of its mother's love and affection? For the child's sake, she hoped not.
    Knowing Rachel and the boys were likely waiting on her to go into town, Molly threw the sheet over the bed and followed with the quilt. She hadn't said anything about it to Rachel, but she planned on moving to the boardinghouse today. She appreciated Rachel's hospitality, and James's generosity in giving her his bed last night, but staying in the home of the most powerful authority in Timber Ridge, or one of them at least, was not where she wanted to be. Much less sleeping in the man's bed. She'd