Free Beyond This Moment by Tamera Alexander Page B

tightly.
    It had been dark when she and James arrived last night, so other than quick trips to and from the privy, she hadn't seen the land surrounding the homestead.
    The cabin was ample size, and though it still fell within the parameters of "rustic;' obvious care had been given to the finish work around the doors and windows. Southern influences abounded in the wide front porch and thick pine columns framing the front entrance. Studying the detailed workmanship, Molly caught a glimpse of the talented man and attentive husband Thomas Boyd must have been.
    She breathed deeply the scent of evergreens and of something sweet she couldn't quite identify, surprised at how cool the air still was, and with August just around the corner. Rachel wasn't wearing a wrap, so Molly had hesitated asking for one. People probably grew accustomed to the chill in the mountain air much like they grew accustomed to the heavy days of summer back in Georgia. Only, the chilly temperature was a far more pleasant adjustment.
    Rachel climbed up beside her and gathered the reins. Molly heard a sniffing sound to her left and turned.
    Kurt was leaning close, smiling. He sniffed again. "You smell good, teacher:"
    "Kurt!" Rachel shot her younger son a reproving look. "It's not polite for a boy to comment on how a woman smells. And you need to address your new teacher as Mrs. Whitcomb:"
    Kurt's mouth pulled to one side. "Yes, ma'am;' he said quietly, watching Molly with curiosity and not just a little mischief.
    Still wary of the gleam in the boy's eyes, Molly gave her soon-tobe-student a hesitant smile. When sunlight hit the boy's red hair, the rays turned it an autumn blaze color, reminding her of fall in the Smoky Mountains.
    Mitchell hunched over the back of the seat beside his brother. "Mama, can we go by Uncle James's office first?"
    "We'll wait to go by Uncle James's office until a little later. First we're going to show Mrs. Whitcomb some of Timber Ridge and take her by the mercantile:" Rachel gave the reins a whip and guided the wagon down the wide rain-rutted road. She glanced at Molly beside her. "That way you can pick up any incidentals you might need. Then we'll meet James and go see the school building, if you'd like:"
    "That sounds wonderful to me. Thank you. And if you have other errands you need to take care of, I'm happy to ride along"
    With a nod, Rachel indicated for Molly to look upward. At first Molly thought she was simply motioning to the mountains; then she spotted a hawk soaring above in the cloudless blue. The bird swayed from side to side, its wings seemingly motionless at this distance and its telling screech drifting downward.
    They rounded a curve and Molly shielded her eyes from the sun, continuing to watch. "What must it be like to experience that kind of freedom? That kind of perspective on the world?"
    Rachel sighed beside her. "I've often thought that very same thing. In early evening, I'll sit on the front porch and watch the elk and deer graze alongside the meadow. Life here can be hard, and painful at times. But there's also such beauty and joy to be found. And I've learned ... in all my long years"-her expression hinted at humor-"that those things often go hand in hand:"
    Watching the hawk until it disappeared over a ridge, Molly prayed that what Rachel said was true. That along with the bad in her life, with all the mistakes she'd made, there might also come some good.

    "Sheriff, you got a minute?"
    James looked up from his paperwork to see one of his deputies. "Sure, Willis. Grab a chair." Dean Willis straddled the chair opposite his desk, and James checked his pocket watch. Rachel, Molly, and the boys were supposed to stop by sometime. Rachel hadn't said exactly when, but he hoped they could have lunch together.
    "Couple of things happened yesterday afternoon, Sheriff. We got another complaint from a worker out at the resort, and then there was a run-in over at Clara's Cafe:" The deputy frowned, as if knowing James