Renegade Wife

chapter Fourteen


Kane held the tray in one hand, opened the bedroom door with the other and quietly walked into the room. He set the tray down on the nearby table then stood over Molly’s sleeping form. A mass of coppery curls spilled over her pillow, her face soft and serene in the setting light. She’d removed her dress and slept in a tangle of sheets in her thin chemise, the gauzy straps slipping down her shoulders, exposing her translucent skin. The tip of one small perfect breast peeked out, teasing, tempting and tormenting him.

Kane swallowed down, his pulse escalating. He uttered a curse and turned to exit the room, leaving his sleeping wife in peace.

“Kane?”

At the sound of her voice, he pivoted around slowly to find Molly sitting up in bed, her hair loose and wispy around her face as she struggled to lift the straps of her undergarment. But Kane had already seen enough to set his nerves on edge.

“Don’t go,” she said softly, blinking her eyes several times. “I’m awake now.”

“I brought up supper.”

“Oh, I guess I napped too long. Has everyone already eaten?”

Kane shook his head. “No, but I thought we’d have the meal in here. Together.”

Molly reached for her robe, setting her arms in the sleeves, and swung her legs off the bed. “Don’t be silly. I’ll get dressed and we’ll eat downstairs.”

Kane walked over to the bed, sat down next to her and slipped her arms out of the robe. “There’s nothing silly about wanting some privacy.”

“But where will we eat?”

Kane gestured to the bed. Molly’s eyes grew wide as recognition dawned. “We’ll eat in bed.” Then her face contorted as she questioned him. “Won’t that be…difficult?”

Kane shook his head. “Lupe made up a tray with everything we need.”

He walked to his side of the bed and sat down, removing his boots and socks. Then he stood to unbutton his shirt and tossed it off. Next came his belt, and all the while Molly watched him. The unabashed look in her eyes made him ache. She followed his movements, her gaze sweeping over him like licking flames.

Kane drew her into his arms, bringing her up on her knees to kiss her lips gently. “Are you hungry?”

Molly glanced at the food and nodded. “It smells delicious.”

Kane lifted up and brought the tray to the bed. He sat down again and spread out the small tablecloth Lupe had sent up. Setting down the tray, he sat cross-legged and Molly did the same. They ate from one big dish, facing each other and speaking of the day’s events. Molly enjoyed the food, relishing each bite. Kane couldn’t help noticing her expression as she chewed and swallowed, the look of sheer delight on her face. Kane had never enjoyed a meal more.

“Kane, I was thinking,” she said, her eyes taking on a vibrant glow, “that maybe I could help you with the children.”

Kane stopped eating. “What children?”

Molly smiled. “The Cheyenne children, of course.”

Skeptical, Kane asked, “What could you do?”

Molly set down her fork and adjusted her position, leaning in slightly, hands in lap, her face animated and full of excitement. “I could teach them. We could set up a little school and I could teach them our language, how to read. There’s so much they could learn.”

Kane shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Molly frowned instantly, the glow in her eyes diminishing. She slumped back. “Why not?”

Kane shook his head again and continued shaking it. “No, Molly. It wouldn’t work. You don’t know anything about them. They are different from—”

“They’re not so different from white children. I saw them today, Kane. I know I could teach them. We could have morning sessions.”

“No, Molly.”

“But you claim you want to help them.”

“I do,” Kane said, raising his voice. “But not your way. And you…you fear them. I saw it in your eyes today.”

“Yes, I admit I was a little afraid, until I met them. Then I realized that they aren’t different from other children I’ve known. White or Indian, children are children. I’ve always yearned to teach, Kane. I think I’d be good at it. Perhaps if you trust me, the children would learn to trust me as well.”

Kane tightened his lips. “Trust no longer comes easy for the Cheyenne.” And Kane thought about the time when Molly would leave the ranch. He thought of her reuniting with her brother. What would happen to her little school then? She would be here only a short while, giving the children hope, a taste of what they might have and then it would be time for Molly to leave.

“Will you think about it?” Molly asked softly. “Please.”

Kane relented, softening to her plea. “I’ll think about it.” But he wouldn’t change his mind.

Molly loved Kane, but she didn’t love his stubborn nature. How could he not the see the benefits of teaching the children? He’d said himself he wanted to integrate them, maybe not into the outside world, but so that they may work alongside the others on the ranch. What better way to achieve that goal than by education? The more she thought about setting up a school for the children in the village, the more she wanted it.

Molly took a bite of Lupe’s cornbread cake, the flavor pungent and sweet as it went down. Kane watched her as she chewed, his eyes no longer harsh from his refusal, but soft like molten silver. That look sent tingles to her toes. “Have some,” she said, breaking off a piece and lifting the cake to his mouth. He opened and accepted the cake, licking at her fingers. And when he finished chewing, he held her hand to his mouth and sucked on her fingers, taking one at a time, laving them with his tongue.

Flames erupted inside her belly, the heat traveling lower creating an ache between her thighs. “Oh, Kane,” she sighed, and before she knew it, Kane had removed the tray of food and was beside her on the bed. Gently, and with little effort, he pulled down the straps of the chemise that she’d struggled with all evening to keep up. Exposed to him, he looked his fill, his hungry gaze devouring her.

“So beautiful,” he whispered in a rough voice.

And while he faced her, both on their knees, he flicked his thumb over one nipple and her whole body reacted, every nerve tightening with desperate need of him.

“I like putting that look on your face, Little Bird.”

Molly’s breaths grew rapid as he stroked her breasts, and when he brought his mouth down to suckle, heat whipped through her, a piercing arrow aimed straight toward her woman’s center. A pleasured moan escaped, “Kane.”

He laid her down on the bed and kissed her, his body partway covering hers. He had yet to remove his trousers, but Molly felt his need, the powerful surging of his manhood. He wasted little time, his hand finding her heat. With deft fingers he stroked her, until she moved with his beat, lifting up, meeting him. He brought her body to the edge, where any moment she might slip off.

“We’ll try something different tonight,” Kane whispered into her mouth. He lifted up, removed his trousers and lay down beside her.

Even through the waning light, Molly saw his powerful erection, the silky fullness that displayed his magnificence. He helped her remove the chemise that had fallen to her hips, then he reached for her, lifting her up and over until she straddled him.

“Take me in, Molly,” he beckoned, his voice hoarse.

And she did. She took all of him, filling herself full.

Kane groaned. “So good.”

Molly sighed, the sensation bringing a new series of tingles, more powerful, more absorbing.

“Now move on me, sweetheart. Any way you want.”

Grateful for the dimming light, Molly blushed until she was sure she was tomato-red. This new position exposed her, making her more vulnerable, yet more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced in her life. “Oh, Kane.”

Kane helped her. He placed both hands on her hips and set a slow grinding pace. She moved on him now, up and down, learning, testing, until she found her rhythm.

Kane released her hips and brought his hands up, each thumb flicking the very tip of her breasts. She moved faster now, harder, pumping up and down, breathless, and it was difficult to tell whose moans grew the loudest, for Molly was deep in a world of her own. She threw her head back, riding the wave, immersed in pleasure almost too painful to bear.

Her release came fast, but endured a long time. And when she finally looked down at her husband, his eyes were on her filled with smoky heat.

She fell onto his chest, exhausted, then rolled to her side. Kane had given her fulfillment. She reached out to him.

She would do the same for him.

And they would not create a child.

Kane woke with Molly cradled in his arms. Morning sun streamed in, the bright light through the curtains making him squint. She stirred and turned in his arms. He held her as she lifted her lids, focusing her eyes only to smile at him.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning.”

“Is it time to get up?”

Kane shook his head. “There’s time. Rest some more.”

Her curls fell loosely onto her face. Kane reached up to move her hair aside, putting the strands behind her ears. The bouncy curls refused to be tamed, falling forward again.

Molly giggled.

He frowned, not from disobedient hair, but from the dewy look in Molly’s eyes, the sexy way she peeked through that thick curtain of curls. He wanted her again. She was like an addiction he couldn’t quite control. Kane had given in to his weakness for her once and now it was as though he couldn’t stop.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, lifting up to a sitting position.

“I have work to do. I must go.”

Molly touched his arm and smiled. “Stay in bed a little longer.”

He shook his head. “Molly, I can’t.”

Her lips pursed into a delicate pout. “Can’t or won’t?”

Kane kissed her deeply then looked straight into her eyes. He spoke slowly trying to get his meaning across. “If I stay, it won’t be to rest.”

“But why?” she asked, and then it dawned on her. “Oh!”

Kane hated leaving her. He wanted to snuggle in bed and make love again. “Get your rest. I’ll see you tonight.”

When he swung his legs off the bed, Molly reached for him, speaking from behind. Her soft touch seared through his skin. “I’m not tired, Kane,” she whispered. “Not in the least.”

Sitting upon the bed, he turned to face her. She smiled with eager eyes. “Stay.”

She wiggled her body down on the bed, her head resting on the pillow, and Kane could no sooner leave her there like that than he could cut off his right arm.

He slid in bed beside her and brought her close, slipping her chemise once again from her shoulders. Molly’s delicate sigh of pleasure was all he needed to hear.

A short time later, Molly faced Kane in bed, fully sated from a night and early morning of lovemaking. They shared their bodies so intimately, yet Kane refused to share his life. He kept that part of himself locked up and closed off to her. She knew he would rise soon, ready for his day of work on the Bar J and, perhaps, to visit the Cheyenne village. She longed so terribly to go there with him, to meet all the children and to start her school. She needed a purpose on the ranch, and while she loved her time with Bennett, he seemed to need her company less and less, spending more time resting in his room. And for Charlie—the wait seemed endless, the anticipation of reuniting with her brother keeping her on edge.

“Kane, are you going to the village today?”

“Later today, I will spend some time there.”

“I might join you,” Molly said, realizing that now that she knew where the village was located she didn’t really need Kane’s permission. “After I go into town to purchase slates and chalk for the children.”

Kane grimaced. He rose from the bed and turned to her. She sucked in a breath, seeing his powerful body, naked and slick from their lovemaking. He appeared a fierce warrior in his own right, those gray eyes narrowing on her as she dared to defy him. Even now as she gazed at him, his strength and power came through as well as his anger. “You would disobey me?”

Molly swallowed and stared into his eyes.

“Never mind, of course you would,” he said harshly. “When have you ever done as you were told?”

Molly rose then and, mustering her courage, she walked over to him, keeping her eyes trained on him. Exposed and vulnerable in her naked state, she reached out to touch his chest. He flinched as if burned. “Last night, Kane,” she said softly. “And this morning, remember?”

Kane’s eyes widened. Even Molly couldn’t believe she had the audacity to bring up their lovemaking, the way Kane tutored her, the way she willingly gave herself up to his every gentle command. Certainly by Kane’s surprised expression, he couldn’t believe it, either.

“I have listened and learned,” Molly said softly, then smiled. “And enjoyed. But now it’s time for you to listen. It’s time for you to give me a chance. I’m only asking for a day or two. If the children don’t want me there, then you have my promise, I will not force myself on them.”

Molly took his hand and squeezed gently, meeting his gaze. “Please.”

Kane’s eyes softened, his face lost the stubborn set and thankfully, his anger seemed to have evaporated. “You have won your point, Little Bird. You have two days.”

Joyous, Molly threw her arms around his neck and jumped into his arms. She kissed him soundly on the mouth. “Thank you. Thank you, Kane. You’ve made me so happy.”

Kane groaned and held her tight, the intimate rub of their bodies not lost on either of them. Molly heated up immediately and Kane, well, she knew that he, too, was affected.

“I have work to do,” Kane said, but there was no real effort in his words.

“Yes, and I have to travel into town,” Molly agreed.

But when Kane lifted her up and set her down on his bed, both knew their morning plans would have to wait a little bit longer.

Molly’s plans to start her school at the Cheyenne village had to be postponed. Kane had had some trouble with the Bar J ranch hands. Two men had quarreled with Kane over the Indians’ presence on the ranch, both refusing to work alongside savages. Kane had fired them both and had come up shorthanded with workmen. Now, days later, once Kane had finally hired on two more amiable workmen, Molly set her own plan into action.

Kane had taken her into Bountiful yesterday and now she stood under a cottonwood tree, handing out slates and chalk to a group of children ranging in age from four to fifteen years of age. Molly did a quick tally and counted nine students in all, sitting cross-legged on tall grass and looking more mystified than curious at the moment. Kane had agreed to translate in their native tongue for the first session, but after that Molly was on her own.

“Tell them, I wish to learn all of their names and what it means in my language.”

Kane spoke with the children, taking care to make sure even the youngest of the students understood what they were trying to do here. And Molly noticed that she’d also attracted many of the elder Cheyenne as well, most of whom stood back from their little makeshift school in the shade of an old tree, to watch and listen.

Molly recited their names and with Kane’s assistance, learned what the names meant in the English language. She knew teaching was a give-and-take endeavor, and for her to be successful she must also be willing to learn about the Cheyenne culture as well. And the one thing she did note almost immediately was that the names given to a child at birth were not always complimentary. Smiling Eyes and Black Raven were pretty enough names, but the Cheyenne named their children according to what was most noticeable about them. Crooked Foot had been born with a foot that curved off to one side and Tall Neck had indeed a long, thin almost birdlike neck.

“My name is Miss Molly.” She turned to Kane. “Please have them repeat my name one by one.”

And so it went. By the end of three hours, with Molly finishing the lesson by allowing each one to mark on their slate by drawing a favorite scene, she had hoped they were interested enough to wish her back tomorrow.

Kane put forth the question and an overwhelming display of head nods confirmed what Molly had hoped. Perhaps being confined on this little piece of land, the children, too, might have known the same sort of boredom Molly had.

With joy in her heart, Molly smiled at Kane. “Tell them I will see them tomorrow and we will begin to learn the English language.”

Kane spoke the next few words as Molly collected the slate boards and chalk. Many of the children glanced with longing at their new learning tool, giving Molly hope. Tomorrow she would make sure they’d have plenty to do with the slate board.

And a short time later, Molly planned her next lesson in her head as she rode beside Kane in the wagon. Her life had new meaning and purpose now, and though she had bullied her way into this, she knew if Kane hadn’t really wanted her to teach the children, all her taunts wouldn’t have amounted to beans. He’d bought the slate boards and chalk. He had gathered the children up. He’d explained Molly’s intentions and agreed to stay for the first session to ease Molly’s way.

With gratitude in her heart, Molly leaned over to kiss Kane’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Kane didn’t say a word. He didn’t smile. But his hand covered hers on the seat of the wagon and they rode back to Bar J that way, hand in hand. Molly couldn’t remember a time when she felt such a keen sense of accomplishment. And having Kane beside her today, having his blessing, albeit somewhat grudgingly, meant a great deal. She’d felt a strong connection to him today, more so than any other time in their brief marriage.

Once they reached the house, Kane helped Molly down and she raced to the front door, eager to tell Bennett of her success today. But just as she reached for the door handle, Bennett appeared, smiling with eyes aglow, looking healthier than she’d ever seen him.

“Molly, we’ve been waiting on you. Seems there’s a young lad who calls himself Roper McCall here to see you.”