Renegade Wife

chapter Eight


Molly paced the all-too-quiet, stuffy room. No longer did the flowery décor seem cheery. No longer did she enjoy gazing out the window. Fidgeting with the creases on her dress and shuffling her feet about, she wore the carpet out with her constant movement. Restless from thoughts of Kane and what he was doing right now had her too jumpy to sleep.

Her husband continued to baffle her with his often-distant demeanor. And then, there were times like tonight, when he’d behaved completely and wholly as a true husband should, seizing her into his arms and kissing her with enough tenderness to dizzy her. Her limbs had grown weak and her heart might surely have melted from the sweet way Kane had taken her.

Molly’s thoughts turned instead to Kane’s mission. He was to seek out a disreputable man to commission his talent as an artist. She prayed for Kane’s safety, though in her heart of hearts Molly knew no more formidable man. Her husband wasn’t a man to cross or deny. Kane knew how to survive in this untamed land. He had done so for years prior to their meeting and as Molly learned more of his life, her admiration for him grew each day.

As for his kisses, well…

“Oh, heavens!” Molly admonished herself for wishing her husband here, to shed her loneliness in this confined and airless room. She couldn’t think of sharing this tiny bed with him without her mind wandering down a forbidden path.

And the more she stared at those overly large flowers on the wall, the more she wanted to scream.

She glanced out the window and saw people milling about. There was yet much to be done to ready for the festivities tomorrow. Surely, there would be no harm if she wandered downstairs and peeped her nose outside.

Yes, Molly decided she needed the distraction, a way to calm jittery foolish nerves. She needed to stop the all-consuming thoughts of her husband. She needed to remind herself that her mission was to find her brother and not lust after the man she had married…temporarily.

Molly exited the room with newfound vigor. She nearly glided down the stairs and stopped immediately when she came upon a group of women, chattering along in the most serious of tones.

And before she knew it, the women were upon her at the base of the staircase, circling her like wild dogs upon their prey.

Molly looked at each one of the dozen faces she encountered, seeing neither joy nor amusement anywhere on their expressions. They stared at her with vigilance, until one woman stepped forth, dressed in the silliest of outfits, a short skirt over bloomers that cuffed her ankles.

Regardless of their intent, Molly saw this as a great opportunity to query them about Charlie. She smiled amicably and addressed them all, ignoring that one woman who seemed to be sizing her up. “Hello, ladies.”

Kane cursed under his breath as he made his way up the stairs at the Blue River Hotel, realizing that unless he wanted a torturous night ahead, he would be sleeping on the floor. Not that he minded, he’d grown up of the earth, but he’d miss Molly’s softness, the little sounds she made during the night, the feel of her silken hair against his skin when she moved closer to him.

But damn it, Kane had ridden hard to get back early for Molly’s sake, tiring out both his horse and himself. He hadn’t the willpower to fight off her charms tonight—so the floor would be his bed.

Anticipation grew in his belly as he put the key in the lock, imagining far too clearly the beauty sleeping on that small bed tonight, her face full of peace and serenity.

If he wasn’t careful he’d get used to coming home to her at night after a long, hard ride, with the sweet taste of her lips still fresh on his mouth. If he wasn’t careful, he’d get used to seeing the bright green alight in her eyes when something amused her, and equally, the liquid fire fuel them when something angered her. Kane shoved those thoughts aside, thinking that, yes, tonight of all nights—he would sleep on the floor.

He opened the door and walked with silence, until he reached the bed…the empty bed.

Unnerved, he glanced around the hotel room with dread creeping into his gut. He’d known immediately as he swept the perimeter that Molly was gone. Dire warnings flashed through his mind. And instant recollections of another time, another missing wife, struck him like rapid and repeating gunfire.

Sickened sensations cramped his belly. His heart raced and beads of moisture pooled at his brow. He stood there, frozen in the moment, thinking of Molly and the dangers that might befall her. His renegade wife had either gone out against his wishes, or she’d been taken by force. Neither option painted a rosy picture.

“Molly!” he called out, regardless of what his innate instincts were telling him, hoping that she’d somehow magically appear. Hadn’t it been the same with Little Swan? Hadn’t he had hope-filled moments, thinking she’d walk right back into their camp, smiling up at him with love in her eyes? Hadn’t he wished it so, so many times in his dreams?

Kane wasted no more time on fruitless wishes. He checked the gun he wore around his waist like a second skin, making sure it was fully loaded and ready, something he’d also done earlier this evening as he rode out of town. A man couldn’t be too careful in that regard. Then he strode down the stairs. The diner was closed, the room darkened, and no one appeared to be working at the hotel desk.

Tamping down his fear for Molly, Kane moved lithely, striding with purpose, heading down the street toward the Pecos Saloon, noting that all other shops and enterprises had closed for the evening. Once there, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves and entered the crowded room. Cigar smoke billowed up, tainting the air and mixing with the keenly distinct scent of alcohol.

With one sharp sweeping glance Kane found the man he had hoped to find. He reached him in three long strides, and faced him at the bar. The balding man didn’t pay him any mind, staring straight ahead, sipping whiskey from a shot glass. Kane noted the empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s sitting on the cherry-wood bar directly in front of him.

Kane laid down a silver coin. “The next one’s on me.”

That got the man’s attention. He turned to face Kane, his eyes glazed, his face ruddy. “Thank you, kindly.”

“It’ll cost you.”

“It always does,” the man said without qualm.

“I’m looking for my wife. Mrs. Molly Jackson. You checked us both in at the hotel earlier today.”

The man perked up, his eyes widening and this time when he looked at Kane, there was a note of recognition. “I remember your wife. Red hair. Little gal and pretty, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Did you see her leave the hotel tonight?”

The man shook his head. “No, sir.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I closed up at sunset then headed over here. But, if your wife’s missing, then I got me a good idea where she is. Probably with every other dang woman in town.”

Kane held his breath. “Go on.”

“Seems there’s this here women’s movement to stop all the drinking in town. There’s women out there wanting to close down every last darn saloon in the country. Can you believe that? The more they talk about abstinence, the more we come in here, getting our fill. Hell, I know why they call it temperance. Trying to stop a man from drinking sure does get his temper a-rising.”

Kane narrowed his eyes, considering if Molly would take up with such women. She’d never mentioned one way or another about her feelings toward liquor, but somehow Kane didn’t think his wife would have joined up with such a movement. “Where are these women?”

“Hell, I don’t know. They have secret meetings.”

“So no one knows?”

Sheepishly, the man admitted, “Well, uh, I ain’t suppose to say.”

Kane’s patience quickly ebbed. At one time in his youth, he would have strung the man up by his collar until he talked, but Kane had learned a thing or two since then, so he held back his irritation and instead tossed down another coin. “Jack Daniel’s,” he told the barkeep. “Bring a new bottle.”

When the bartender complied, Kane laid a hand over the base of the bottle and pushed it toward the hotel clerk. “I need to know where that meeting is.”

The man hesitated.

Kane waited while the hotel clerk eyed the bottle.

“Mildred is gonna tan my hide for sure.”

“Mildred?”

“My wife. She, uh, sorta runs the meetings.”

If Kane were of a mood, he would have laughed at the irony. While the clerk’s wife was out running meetings to ban liquor, her husband was imbibing whiskey like water, practically drowning in it. “I need to find my wife. She may not even be there.”

“Okay, okay.” The clerk grabbed the whiskey bottle and tucked it under his arm, then leaned in to whisper in Kane’s ear. “They’re meeting at the old abandoned Episcopalian church, just outside of town. Due east.”

Kane nodded and turned to leave.

The hotel clerk grabbed his sleeve and Kane stiffened, moving out of the man’s reach. “Don’t tell Mildred it was me that told you.”

“You have my word.”

The clerk shuddered. “Appreciate that.”

“Abstinence is the only way!”

“Liquor is the devil’s brew!”

“We shall prevail. We’ll dry up Whiskey Flats.”

Kane stood in the back of the church watching the horde of women teetotalers pledge their very lives to the cause. Huddled by the light of one lantern in the abandoned church, the ladies circled the one woman who led the crowd. Kane couldn’t see much through their calico-clad backs and Molly, being of short stature, would blend in with the rest of them.

“Whiskey Flats will be no more! We’ll change the name of this town!”

For the moment, not a soul knew he’d discovered their secret meeting. Kane narrowed his eyes, his heart pounding. He prayed he’d find Molly here amid these women, hoping his hunch had paid off. He had no other possible leads.

“Tomorrow, we’ll speak our mind. We’ll get petitions signed, boycott the saloon and Founder’s Day will have new meaning in town,” the leader announced. The others bobbed their heads and voiced their avid agreement.

Kane had no more time to waste. He couldn’t see Molly through the dozens of women present. He stepped up and knew immediately when he’d been noticed. The ranting stopped and a sea of women parted, their horrified gasps enough to bring down the failing decrepit walls. The leader appeared.

Mildred.

Kane pursed his lips, taking in her silly attire. She wore something akin to a sideshow costume, complete with billowing bloomers, and if she demanded attention with her garb she’d certainly attained her goal.

She stepped forward, her face humorless. “You have invaded our meeting, sir. What right have you to—”

“I’m looking for my wife. Her name is Mrs. Molly Jackson,” he interrupted and upon his announcement, Molly appeared. Slowly, she stepped out from the crowd, blinking her eyes and wearing a shocked expression.

Relief registered first. Kane had never been so darn happy to see anyone in his life. She looked beautiful to him, more beautiful than he’d thought possible actually, with her hair down in curls around her face and those big green eyes staring back at him, causing him a moment of lost breath.

And then his fury set in—angry, hot wrath that rattled all other emotions to the core.

“Your wife has come here for a purpose,” Mildred explained sternly. “And has agreed to listen to our proposals.”

Kane took the steps necessary to reach Molly. Without giving her another glance, he lifted her into his arms and held on tight, turning toward the leader. “I think I have a far better proposal for her. You see, we’re on our honeymoon.”

Surprised gasps and romantic sighs resounded in the room.

“But our cause is just!” Mildred exclaimed.

Molly squirmed in his arms. Kane shot her a quick warning glance, which stifled her movement. “No doubt, but you wouldn’t want to keep a man from his new bride. There are still things I must teach my wife about being…married.”

Another round of “oohs” and “aahs” were heard.

Molly thumped him in the chest.

“Good night, ladies.”

He strode out of the church without turning back.

Once outside, Molly thumped him again on the chest. He barely felt her slight fists, but her voice, well, that shrieking sound grated on him. “Put me down, Kane!”

“No.”

He tightened his grip in case the woman thought she could wiggle free of him.

“This is ridiculous,” Molly exclaimed, but she settled into his arms, hopefully realizing the futility in fighting him. He marched on, heading for the hotel.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Little Bird. So start talking, ’cause I’m about to wring your neck.”

Molly ignored his demand. “What are you doing back so early? Didn’t you find the mystery man?”

Kane held his temper. “I found him, stone drunk. He made one drawing before he passed out completely. But he’s good, the best I’ve ever seen. I’m going back in the morning for the rest of the drawings.”

“You didn’t leave the tintype of Charlie with him, did you?”

Kane didn’t answer, deciding to let her stew a bit. Hell, she deserved it for all the trouble she’d caused him tonight.

“Kane?”

“What?”

“You didn’t leave the only thing I have left of my brother with that man, did you?” she asked, alarmed.

Kane waited a moment longer before answering. “No.”

“Then how’s he—”

“The drawing he made was so close a likeness, I told him to draw up a dozen more just like it. Paid him a small fortune, too. He’ll have them ready in the morning.”

“You took a drunk at his word?”

Kane lifted his mouth in a crooked smile. “I trust no one, Molly. I gave the man reason to want to do me this service and that’s all I’m saying.”

Kane threatened him at gunpoint, offering to shoot off his drawing hand, if the man even thought of running out on him. “He’ll have them ready before the celebration tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said sweetly, and he felt her body relax in his arms.

But Kane wasn’t through with Molly yet. He entered the hotel, taking the stairs quickly and once they reached their room, he kicked open the door.

He walked into the room with Molly in his arms, and once again the irony struck him like a blow to his gut. He’d announced to the temperance women he was on his honeymoon and now here he was, carrying his new bride over the threshold.

He tossed Molly onto the bed and she landed with a plop onto the quilts. “Now, why’d you go out tonight?”

“I didn’t exactly,” she began, sitting upright on the bed. “I needed a breath of air, and then I met up with those women in the lobby. Then, well, we sort of made a deal. They agreed to hear about my search for Charlie, if I’d listen to their lecture on temperance. It was a good plan, Kane. Why, almost every woman in town was at that meeting. I figured someone might have seen my brother.”

“Damn it, Molly. It was a fool plan. I came back and found you missing.”

“I didn’t know you’d be back so early.”

“And I couldn’t figure why my wife wouldn’t be in bed when I got back.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Hell, anything could have happened to you.”

“But nothing did. And none of the women said they’d seen anyone who looked like my brother even after I described him down to the mole on his left cheek. When you showed up, I’d never been happier to see anyone in my life.”

“What?”

“Heavens, the last thing I wanted was to listen to those dreary women go on and on about the sins of liquor.” Molly smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t be happy, but I’d rather listen to your wrath than theirs.”

Kane ran a hand down his face. “You don’t fear me?”

Surprised, Molly’s eyes rounded. “Should I?”

Hell, Kane was a killer. He’d done enough in his twenty-six years to satisfy Satan. Yet Molly was naive in the ways of the West. She’d never really seen the bad side of life whereas Kane had seen too much. “Probably. Once I found you I really thought to wring your neck.”

“You wouldn’t,” Molly said quietly, but she glanced up at him with doubt in her eyes.

Kane pursed his lips, his anger fading. He was too doggone tired and relieved to hold on to his irritation. “Think you can sleep now?”

Molly looked at the bed and then gazed up at him. Kane knew he’d lay with her tonight, the need to hold her, to know she slept safely by his side, too strong.

Kane bent to remove Molly’s boots. “What are you doing?” she asked softly.

“Getting ready for bed. Now slide over.”

Kane removed his gun belt, his shirt and then off came his boots. He flung them, not caring where they landed. He came down next to Molly on the bed, and took her into his arms, thinking it was better she slept in her dress. He’d already seen her in sheer cotton once today, and that encounter nearly led to disaster.

“Don’t ever go out alone, Molly,” he said, much like a father would scold a child. “Don’t disobey me. Next time, you might not be so lucky.”

Molly gazed deep into his eyes. “You worried over me?”

Kane nodded, then kissed her gently on the lips. “You’re my responsibility.”

Then he rolled over, holding her to him, and fell asleep.

One week later, Molly stood in Kay’s Millinery in a town called Fallen Oak, weary from travel, but more so, heartbroken that none of her efforts to find her brother had succeeded. She’d been so hopeful when Kane arrived with the drawings of Charlie, but Founder’s Day in Whiskey Flats proved a flop. Not only hadn’t anyone in town recognized his likeness, but Molly nearly got arrested along with the Ladies’ Temperance League, who had plagued the saloons, disrupted the festivities and stirred up enough trouble to drive any sane man straight to drink. Luckily, Molly had done some fast-talking to the sheriff, and some of the more romance-minded of the ladies had vouched for her innocence in the whole matter.

From there, they’d made a harrowing trek across the Pecos River, visited Midland and towns with obscure names that Molly couldn’t remember now. They’d be sure to leave off a drawing of Charlie in each place, usually with the sheriff, if the town had one. If not, Kane always found a prominent citizen to leave the drawing with, sometimes the telegraph operator, sometimes the town barber and sometimes a wealthy landowner.

With desperation, Molly began to realize that Texas was as big as her chances to find Charlie slim. She couldn’t abide never seeing him again. She couldn’t abide not having any kin to speak of. She vowed never to give up.

So she stood in the hat shop, all but ignoring the beautiful velvet bonnets with fine ribbons and lace, but instead waiting for the proprietor to finish up with her customer so Molly could ask her questions.

She and Kane had set a pattern of sorts. He’d show a drawing to the saloonkeepers, sheriff, blacksmith, wire operator and such, and she would only speak with the ladies at the millinery, dress shops and mercantile, waiting for Kane at the diner or supper house when she was through. It was a deal she’d struck with him after much discussion, making their time more efficient. They could visit more towns and speak to many more people this way. Molly had been on her best behavior since the incident in Whiskey Flats and Kane, she hoped, was beginning to trust her. Still and all, neither had come up with any real leads on her brother.

“May I help you, miss?”

“Oh, yes,” Molly said, coming out of her thoughts. “I’m searching for my brother. He goes by the name Charlie McGuire. Here’s what he looked like a few years back.” She showed the woman the rectangular frame. “Do you think you might have seen him in town?”

The lady began shaking her head, much like all the others she’d encountered recently. Molly had begun to hate that one wretched gesture. “No, sorry. But I don’t get too many men coming in here.”

Molly realized that, too. She’d been duped by Kane into thinking she’d actually make progress with her inquiries, but all too soon she’d noted that her particular quest for Charlie in places where only women frequented would do her no good. It had just been another way for Kane to keep control of the situation. “Thank you,” she said, “I appreciate your time.”

The milliner nodded graciously.

“If you ever do see my brother, would you ask him to please contact his sister, Molly, at the Bar J Ranch in Bountiful?”

“I certainly will, miss. I do hope you find him.”

“Thank you,” Molly said with a small smile, before exiting the shop.

She stood on the sidewalk looking east, then west, wondering if she would ever see Charlie again, when a young boy approached her, tugging on her dress. The child couldn’t have been more than ten years old. Dressed in pitiful clothes that appeared more like rags and dirt stains on every part of his body, Molly had never seen a more unkempt child in her life.

“Lady, lady. I know where your brother is, lady.”

Stunned, Molly blinked several times, allowing the words to sink in. She bent down to gaze into the boy’s light brown eyes. “You know where Charlie is?”

“I don’t know his name for sure, but my mama told me to come for you.” The boy grabbed her hand and yanked. “Come now.”

Molly straightened but refused to move. “Wait. I need to find my husband.” She darted glances up and down the streets looking for Kane. He was nowhere to be found.

The boy shook his head. “Your brother’s hurt, ma’am. Mama said to fetch you in a hurry.”

Alarmed, Molly’s heart raced furiously. “Charlie’s hurt? What happened to him? What happened to my brother?” she asked, her voice nearly a shriek now.

“He was shot. He’s bleeding bad.”

“Oh!” Tears stung Molly’s eyes. She’d prayed for months to find her brother, but she’d never fathomed that they would be reunited in this most troubling way. From the urgency in the boy’s voice, she knew she had little time to waste. Kane was nowhere in sight and she couldn’t wait any longer. Her brother needed her. “Take me to him.”

The boy once again grabbed her hand. They walked briskly down the sidewalk turning down an alley and ventured farther from town almost at a run. They stopped when they reached a broken-down shanty with splintered walls and rotting floor planks. Molly couldn’t see into the window for all the dirt.

“He’s in there,” the boy said, pointing.

“Let your mama know we’re here,” Molly ordered with impatience, yet she held to propriety.

The boy opened the door slowly. “Mama, we’re here.”

The boy stepped into the shanty and Molly followed. She held her breath in anticipation, both fearful and hopeful, but that very breath was knocked out of her in one frightful blow as she was shoved forcefully against the wall. A toothy man held his big beefy hand over her mouth, his body pinning her in place. He tossed the boy a coin. “Good job, kid. Now get out.”

The boy took off running.

Molly gulped fear and held back nausea, realizing far too late her mistake. Another man reached over to rip the reticule from her arm. From the little light filtering in, Molly saw him dig deep into her purse, coming up with all of the contents. “Ah, Clyde, ain’t but a few dollars in here,” he complained. “I thought you said she was rich.”

“Hell, her man’s probably holding all the cash.”

“I got me a good look at him. He ain’t one to mess with.”

“No, but we got us his woman. Bet she can ease my disappointment,” Clyde said, sliding his free hand up and down Molly’s arm. She tried pulling her arm free but he clamped on tight, holding her firm. Molly squirmed and kicked and struggled until the man had to release his hand over her mouth to hold her still. Panicked, she screamed. “Kane! Help! Help me!”

The slap to her face stung. “Shut up!” Clyde covered her mouth again. “Get the rope, Tooley.”

“Rope? I didn’t bring no rope.”

Clyde turned from Molly to glare at his partner. “I told you to bring a rope, damn it! Now, how we gonna keep her still enough.”

“You hold her down.”

Molly took her captive’s lack of attention to shove at his chest with balled fists. She spit in his face and kicked hard, right between the legs.

“Ow!” Blood drained from his face and he doubled over.

Molly ran for the door, but the other man grabbed her from behind, lifting her up as she screamed and kicked.

“Ain’t nobody gonna hear you way out here!” Then he silenced her with his hand over her mouth, holding her tight, his arm wrapped around her middle. “You okay, Clyde?”

“Hell, no,” he muttered. “I ain’t okay.”

Just then, the door burst open and Kane appeared. Taking a split second to survey the scene, he threw his knife at Clyde, striking him in the shoulder and once again he doubled over, falling to the floor and crying out in agony.

Then, methodically, Kane focused on the man holding Molly.

“Let her go,” he demanded, his voice venomous.

The man who held Molly released her instantly, but Kane didn’t stop. He approached the man with murder in his eyes. He grabbed him, tossed him against the wall and pounded him with his fists over and over again. The man raised his arms in surrender, unable to put up much of a fight, but Kane continued, bloodying his nose and Molly thought she heard the man’s jaw crack. Blood spurted from the man’s mouth, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. With the ruffian slumped against the wall, Kane continued to pummel him until Molly couldn’t stand to watch another second. “Kane!”

Her plea went unnoticed.

“Kane!” she repeated, her voice shrill. She tugged on his sleeve and pleaded. “Enough, Kane.”

He shook his head. “Not enough. He has to pay.” He landed another blow.

Tears filled Molly’s eyes. Kane’s unleashed rage frightened her. She’d never seen him lose control. She’d never seen this untamed, wild, ferocious side to him. Warrior came to mind and she envisioned him as a true Cheyenne, protecting what was his, seeking vengeance and retribution, perhaps for all that was done to him, for all those whom he’d lost.

His chest heaved with anger, his face was tight and determined—Molly knew she had to stop him. “Let him go. You’re killing him!”

“He deserves to die, for what he did to—” And then Kane stopped to look at her, a light dawning in his eyes as she pleaded with him in silence this time. He released the man, who sagged to the floor in a bloody heap.

“He didn’t kill your wife, Kane,” Molly said softly.

Kane nodded, as if just realizing that himself. Then he lifted a finger to her cheek. The sting had subsided long ago, but Molly knew her face would show the handprint of violence. Kane closed his eyes tight, as if warding off any further fury. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

Molly rubbed her arms up and down, thankful that Kane had arrived in time. She was scared—frightened half to death, if truth be known—but she wasn’t hurt. “No. You got here,” she said with a shudder, “in time. How did you know?”

“The boy. I saw you walk down an alley with him. Next thing I know, he’s running away like a wild rabbit, looking guilty. When I caught up with him, I didn’t give him much choice but to tell me where you were.”

“I shouldn’t have gone with him, Kane. But he told me Charlie was here, and hurt bad.”

“You got to stop trusting in people, Molly. Even little boys,” Kane offered, too spent to show her any anger, but Molly figured she’d get a good earful soon.

Kane swept a glance at the two men lying near death on the floor. “Let’s go.”

Kane lifted her up and carried her out of the shanty. Molly didn’t protest. Her legs had gone as weak as molasses. “What about them?”

“They’re not going anywhere. We’ll get the sheriff. He’ll deal with them, then we’re getting out of this town.”

Molly liked the sound of that.

The sooner they departed Fallen Oak, the better.