Renegade Wife

chapter Thirteen


Molly found herself amid a circle of tipis and a swarm of cautious eyes. She couldn’t blame the Cheyenne for their mistrust, yet their stares made her uneasy. Kane had told her that she was the only other white person to enter this village.

A small boy approached and Kane reached out to pat the boy’s head with affection. “Hey there, Moksois.” He explained, “He is Smiling Eyes’s older brother.”

Molly leaned down a bit to come closer to the boy. “Hello, Moksois.”

The boy stared at Molly with big round dark eyes and Kane chuckled.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Moksois isn’t his real name. I think he’s surprised you spoke to him that way.”

Perplexed, Molly drew her brows together. “In what way?”

“Moksois is an affectionate name for young boys. It means Potbelly.”

“Potbelly!” Molly gasped in horror but the boy only smiled back at her. Then she glanced at Kane and shook her head. “I’ll get you for that, Kane Jackson.”

“When—tonight?” Kane asked. Then he whispered for her ears only, “When you’re in my bed.”

And Molly’s heart did that little dance again at the reminder of their lovemaking and of what was to come. “Maybe.”

Kane took her hand again and as they approached his mother’s tipi, he instructed, “I’ll enter first, you follow and go the opposite way around. Sit down and I will introduce you.”

The flap to the tipi was open and Molly followed Kane inside. Her first impression was how large the inside appeared, having all the necessities of life, without the clutter. Firewood and cooking utensils sat against one part of the lodge while at the far end she noted bedding. Closer to the center was a fire pit, and behind a fire that had long since been extinguished sat a Cheyenne woman.

While Kane went to the right, Molly circled around to the left and sat down by Singing Bird. The woman appeared more youthful than Molly expected. She wore a dress of soft deerskin beaded with delicate intricacy, her dark hair braided down the middle of her head. A soft smile lifted her lips. “Welcome.”

Kane sat next to his mother. “This is the woman I have married. Her name is Molly. She is small and delicate, like you. I have named her Little Bird.”

With pride in her eyes, Singing Bird listened to Kane and Molly realized how much affection the two held for each other.

“It is a good name,” Singing Bird said, nodding. “I have asked Gray Wolf to bring you here. I am glad he has listened.”

Gray Wolf? Molly had forgotten that Kane had told her of his Cheyenne name, weeks ago, when he had attempted to send her back to St. Louis. She’d dismissed the name, dismissing his upbringing as well in her mind. But now, she couldn’t dismiss Kane’s other life, his Cheyenne life. He, too, had a name, given to him by the Cheyenne when he’d been just a boy.

“Yes,” Molly said. “I am glad he has brought me here as well.”

“My son makes it possible for us to live.”

Molly understood that statement more than she had realized. While she hadn’t spent a good deal of time learning current affairs, she knew that many tribes had been sent to reservations. Others, who had refused to lose their homes and their way of life, had fought and still did to regain what they’d lost. Bands of Indians, raiding parties were still feared in this part of the country. “I have just learned of your village today.”

And Molly’s heart went out to Kane. He’d almost lost one family, Bennett being the only relation left in the white world. He couldn’t bear to lose another, this Cheyenne family, the people with whom he obviously felt a keen sense of loyalty and love.

“Gray Wolf hopes our young boys will learn to ranch.”

“It is a good thought,” Molly said, agreeing with Kane’s beliefs.

“They learn fast. A small herd of cattle graze up here and we have rounded them up. They have learned how to brand. In time, I hope that our braves will work on the Bar J,” Kane said.

Singing Bird reached behind her and presented Molly with a gift, a beaded dress so lovely in design and workmanship that she was certain she’d never seen anything quite so stunning in her life. “A gift for you,” she said as she handed over the dress. “If you married in our village, you would wear this.”

“A wedding dress?” Molly looked at Kane with tears in her eyes. “This is so…the most… I don’t know what to say. Th-thank you.”

Once again, guilt enveloped her. She’d lied to Bennett over and over, but Singing Bird also believed the marriage real. And she’d made Molly a dress that obviously had taken a great deal of time. Molly hated accepting such a beautiful gift, but she knew to refuse the offer would be a great insult to the kind woman. Instead, she hugged the gift to her breast. “Thank you. I shall cherish it.”

Singing Bird nodded, apparently satisfied.

“My mother is a member of the Quillers’ Society.”

Molly glanced at Kane askance. “Quillers’ Society?”

“Women with special talent gather to perform the sacred task of decorating using porcupine and bird quills. My mother is one of a selected few who have this honor. When I was young I would watch the women perform the ceremony. Women in the society are highly respected.”

Molly fingered the delicate beaded pattern on her dress, the workmanship unequaled. “I can see why.”

They spoke for several minutes about the village and Singing Bird explained how Kane had sought the tribe out and urged them to move onto Bennett Jackson’s land. She credited Kane with so much of their survival up until this point, and Molly knew all that she said to be true. Kane was, despite his claims otherwise, a very honorable man.

They spoke also of Charlie, and Molly explained that after months of wondering and weeks of searching, her brother had been located. Singing Bird seemed to understand Molly’s desperation to find her loved one. Though their conversation at times seemed stilted due to the language barrier, Kane had intervened enough to help explain what each woman meant to say. And Molly felt acceptance from Singing Bird, not so much from her words, but from clear, dark brown eyes that relayed what was in her heart.

Shortly after, all three exited the tipi, Molly stretching out her legs and straightening her wrinkled dress. Smiling Eyes ran up to Molly and without qualm, took her hand. Molly glanced at Kane, who gestured for her to follow the little girl. She handed Kane her new wedding dress before Smiling Eyes led her to a small clearing behind the tipis, a playground of sorts, where close to a dozen children played. The boys, she noted, had a circle of their own where they played with small bows and blunt-ended arrows, and beyond them some older children seemed to be playing camp, boys and girls alike, pretending to live in a make-believe village with make-believe families.

The younger girls had a place set up with dolls made of deerskin, and each doll had its own miniature cradle-board. Smiling Eyes handed Molly a doll and gestured for her to sit down. Molly sat down on the grassy ground and played with Smiling Eyes while Kane and Singing Bird looked on.

“I don’t understand ‘temporary’ wife,” Singing Bird said to Kane. They stood several yards from the play area where Molly seemed to be enjoying the time spent with Smiling Eyes.

Kane shrugged and wished he hadn’t told his mother about the arrangement he’d made with Molly. But Kane had never lied or purposely deceived his mother, and he couldn’t have her think he’d betrayed Little Swan’s memory in any way. He couldn’t have her think that Kane had found love again.

“I have explained the bargain I have made with Molly.”

“Yet, you give her a Cheyenne name.”

“She is small—petite—like you, isn’t she?”

“She is a woman who looks at you in a special way.”

Kane glanced at Molly, who was obviously enjoying the outing and her time here with the tribe children. He hadn’t expected her to react with such calm and acceptance. After her fright last night, startled by Smiling Eyes, Kane had been certain Molly would have reacted differently, perhaps with fear and apprehension at seeing a true tribal village.

Once again, Molly had surprised him. “She will leave when the time comes.”

Singing Bird shook her head. “You say the words, yet you do not want it so.”

Kane turned sharply to stare at his mother. “You forget about Little Swan? You forget that I had a wife once?”

“And now you have another wife.”

“Yes, for now, Molly is my wife.”

Singing Bird faced him and looked into his eyes. “You have touched her the way a husband touches a wife. You have lain with her. I know this. She belongs to you now, son.”

Kane closed his eyes. Yes, he had touched his wife. He had tried not to—tried to ignore the desire he felt for her. But Kane had no regrets. Not even now, as his mother made her point with him. He wanted Molly. He couldn’t deny it. There would be many nights to come where Kane would be alone, but for now and as long as Molly wanted him, he would make love to her. But he would not create a child. Yet, he couldn’t explain those intimate details with Singing Bird. Some things a man had to keep to himself. “It is hard to explain, Mother.”

“Not so hard, Gray Wolf. It is clear to me. It is my son who does not see.”

Hours later, Kane and Molly rode down the path leading back to the Bar J. In the distance Kane noted Mrs. Penelope Rose’s buggy leaving the house. Just leaving. Now, four hours after they’d left her with his grandfather.

Bennett stood on the porch waving farewell. Kane glanced at Molly. She, too, had witnessed the exchange.

“I thought Mrs. Rose came to see you this morning,” Kane said.

Molly nodded. “And you, too. Remember, she brought us a ‘welcome home’ basket of treats.”

“So what’s she still doing here?” Kane asked, as suspicion crept into his gut. Molly only shrugged. He hadn’t expected an answer from her.

Kane and Molly approached the house. When Bennett spotted them, he turned around on the porch, heading inside the house.

“Grandfather!”

Bennett stopped and turned around slowly.

Kane dismounted and, after helping Molly down from Sweet Pea both approached the porch.

“Afternoon,” Bennett said, his eyes narrowing against the streaming sunlight. Kane couldn’t read much more in his expression.

“That’s just it, Grandfather. It’s afternoon. What was Mrs. Rose still doing here?”

Bennett slumped, his face paled and the coughing began.

Molly rushed to his side, holding onto his arm. “Oh, dear. He’s having another attack. Get him some water, Kane.”

Kane stood stock-still, watching his grandfather.

“Kane, he needs water,” Molly scolded.

Kane wasn’t sure what his grandfather needed at the moment, perhaps an alibi, but after several more seconds Kane entered the house and came out quickly with a glass of water. By that time, Molly had seated Bennett onto the porch chair and she continued to hover over him.

Kane handed Bennett the glass of water.

“Thank you, boy. Seems the worst is over now.” He sipped the water.

Molly explained. “Your grandfather had an attack this morning and Mrs. Rose wouldn’t leave him until Lupe returned to the house.”

“Where was Lupe?” Kane asked. These days, Lupe never left the ranch when Kane was off the property. She worried too much over Bennett.

“I sent her over to the Wilkinsons’ place. Seems one of their young’uns took sick and Elena Wilkinson needed help, what with the five other children she’s got.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Grandfather,” Molly said, glancing up to give Kane a sharp look.

Kane twisted his mouth, ready to comment, but Molly shook her head and he thought better of saying something he might regret. The two had been alone in the ranch house all morning. And in truth, his grandfather’s illness seemed awfully convenient at times, but he’d keep that thought to himself for now.

“I think you need to rest.” Molly put out her hand.

Bennett rose slowly and took Molly’s hand.

“Did you have a nice visit with Mrs. Rose?” Molly asked cheerily.

He shrugged. “She chatters all the time.”

“Still, I’m glad she stayed with you. It was nice of her.”

“Yes,” Bennett agreed, “I didn’t say she wasn’t nice.”

Kane watched as Molly helped his grandfather up the steps. “Kane, are you coming?” she asked, glancing back. “We need to settle him into his room.”

Kane scratched his head, then bounded up the porch steps to take hold of his grandfather’s arm. “I’ve got him, Molly,” he said as he led him into the house and up the stairs.

He heard her mutter quietly. “Well, it’s about time.”

Kane entered the house before dusk, yanking off his hat and hanging it up on a hook in the kitchen. He’d been out on the range the entire afternoon, checking fences, watching the herd, and helping their cookie, Sully, make repairs on the chuck wagon. “Hola, Lupe.”

“Senor Kane. I cook a nice meal for you tonight.”

Kane nodded, looking at the spicy meal Lupe had in store for supper. Stomach grumbling, his mouth watered, and he could think of only one thing better than digging into Lupe’s fare. “Molly around?”

“No, Senora Molly is up in her room. She has spent time with Senor Bennett, and now she rests.”

Kane didn’t want to eat alone. Hell, he worked like a demon to get home early tonight.

To see Molly.

She’d been on his mind all day, and in truth he didn’t much like the power she had over him. He wanted her. He wanted to take her into his arms, make love to her and witness once again the lusty look of completion on her face when he brought her to pleasure.

“Lupe, do me a favor?”

Lupe nodded. “Qué?”

“Make up a tray for Molly and me. I’m going to clean up and then bring the meal up to our room.”

Lupe grinned, nodding. “Sí, sí. Senora Molly will like, no? And so will you, perhaps even more?”

Kane grinned back. “Gracias, Lupe.”

With that, Kane exited the hot kitchen, heading for the water barrel and looking forward to sharing a meal with Molly.

And more.