Renegade Wife

chapter Nine


After the Fallen Oak incident, silence filled their days. Molly thought that Kane would surely lecture her on her foolhardy behavior, but nothing was forthcoming. Perhaps both learned a lesson. Perhaps Kane’s silence had less to do with Molly’s actions that day and more to do with his own.

Molly had stopped him from murdering a man. The experience weighed heavily on her conscience. If she hadn’t been so impatient, if she’d recognized the ruse for what it was, that day would have ended differently.

She remembered how they’d left town in haste and made camp when dusk had just settled on the horizon. Kane took her into his arms that night, holding her close, but oh, so carefully, one arm wrapped around her middle, the other, always gripping on to the rifle that lay beside him. Molly had never felt safer. She’d never wanted to be held so much. She’d had disturbing dreams that night, and when she’d roused, Kane had settled her back down, rubbing her arms, kissing her cheek gently, until she once again relaxed.

But that day was in the distant past. Since then, she and Kane had weathered heat that scorched their skin and soaked their clothes, winds that swirled red dust upon their bodies, and unpredictable nights that lent warmth one time and chills the other.

Molly endured it all for the sake of finding her brother. But what she couldn’t endure was the day in and day out disappointment she felt every time they left one town to find hopelessness once again in another.

They’d traveled for miles, searched many towns and inquired at ranches and farms along the way, turning up no leads. They’d come full circle and as Molly sat upon the wagon in the late afternoon, seated next to a quiet Kane, she held back tears. They had exhausted their search and were returning to the Bar J.

Molly prayed to the Almighty for guidance. Filled with despair with all hope waning, she asked for a sign, anything that might help to restore her faith. And if the Almighty listened, she had to believe his sign came in the form of quick-moving gray clouds, putting a chill in the air and darkening the once pretty blue sky.

Without warning, a storm raged, the clouds smashing into one another, booming with sound and alighting the sky with friction. Cold rain pelted down, the storm’s immediate violence more like the devil’s device than anything the Almighty would want to conjure.

Kane halted the wagon under a large oak, the horses too jittery to move forward. He jumped down, and reached for her, grabbing a blanket and shoving it into her arms. “Get under the wagon, quick.”

Molly scooted under as she was told, spreading out the blanket, hoping to keep somewhat dry. Through sheets of rain pouring down, she watched Kane make quick work of unhitching the horses, leading them to another nearby tree. After tying the mares securely, he raced back to the wagon and, using two blankets, attached them to the sides of the bed, creating a tent of sorts then rolled his way under. He carried only a saddlebag, one she knew that was filled with provisions and, of course, his rifle.

Molly stared at Kane’s soaked clothes. Without benefit of the hat that had flown off his head in the storm, Kane’s hair hung in his face and dripped water onto his shoulders. Molly reached up to push his hair back, looking deeply into his eyes. He shivered from the cold, and Molly hadn’t realized that she, too, had been shivering all along. “You’re drenched.”

“So are you.”

Molly’s clothes hung like wet rags to her body. Her hair was equally as wet, the storm catching them both off guard. “What do we do now?” she asked.

“Get out of our wet clothes and wait.”

Thunder boomed directly overhead. Molly jumped from the horrific sound, and the eerie flash of lightning illuminating the ground like a quick burning match brought goose bumps. “Oh!”

Kane moved closer, realizing her fear. As a child, Molly had hated storms, but none she’d encountered had frightened her quite so much. Texas storms, like everything in this wild unruly land seemed angrier and fiercer than the ones she’d recalled from back home. “Come here, Little Bird.”

Molly moved into Kane’s arms and once again, she felt safe and protected. She trembled from cold, yes, but she also recognized the familiar tremble she sustained each time Kane held her in his arms. He began unbuttoning her dress and Molly allowed it. He’d seen her unclothed before, and funny, but she knew no shame with Kane. He was her husband and a man she had come to trust.

With all buttons unfastened, Kane slid the dress from her shoulders. He helped her pull it down along her legs and remove it completely.

“Your boots, too.” And Kane helped her take off her shoes.

Next Kane removed his buckskin shirt, lifting it high overhead and Molly took the shirt from him, marveling at its waterlogged weight. She set it in the same pile with her dress.

Molly shivered again, this time the chill seeping way down to her bones. Thunder rocked the sky with powerful force, making her feel so small at the moment, so insignificant. She rubbed her arms back and forth, the chemise she wore offered little protection from the cold.

“Let my body warm you, Molly,” Kane said, dragging her closer to him. “Turn from me.”

Molly did as she was told, grateful for any warmth Kane could offer. With her back to him now, pressed beside him, Molly gritted her teeth. “Your pants…they’re soaked.”

Kane groaned. “I hoped you wouldn’t notice.” Then he sighed. “For this to work, we need no clothes between us.”

“We need to lie naked?” Molly croaked.

“For body warmth, yes. That’s how we’ll stay warm through the storm.”

“There’s no other way?”

Again, she heard Kane groan. “There are no more dry blankets, Molly. If you know another way…”

Kane’s voice warred with another clash of thunder.

Molly jumped at the deafening sound.

Then when all was quiet again, she heard Kane’s struggle to remove his wet trousers. “May I help?” she offered, through ingrained politeness.

“Don’t turn around, Molly.”

And all too soon she understood why he didn’t want her help. Kane brought his body to hers and slowly lifted the plastered chemise from her body, thankfully leaving on her drawers, but not before Molly realized Kane’s aroused state. “Kane?”

“Shhh!” And it was as if he didn’t want to speak of what was happening between them. Instead of answering her, he wrapped his arm around her middle, tucked one leg over hers and pressed her back to his chest. Molly swallowed hard, forgetting about her chilled bones for the moment.

“Can we lie like this all night?” she asked pointedly.

“We can try,” was his honest answer. “Are you warming up?”

Oh, yes! Molly couldn’t think much beyond Kane’s inflamed state, his heat becoming hers within seconds.

“Maybe if we talked. That might ease, uh, that might make time pass more quickly.”

Kane didn’t seem to agree. He grunted.

“Tell me about the Cheyenne,” Molly said, broaching a subject she knew little about. “What was it like living with them?”

Kane seemed to relax a bit, his body’s rigid stance becoming much less tense. “You really want to know?”

She bobbed her head. “I do.”

Absently, Kane stroked her belly, his hand warming her skin and he said, “In many ways the Cheyenne aren’t so different from the white man. The children play silly games, just like white children. They play camp with miniature lodge villages and make-believe families. The boys pretend to go on hunts and use stick horses to hunt buffalo. The little girls have toy tipis and deerskin dolls. Children are revered in the tribe. Boys especially, because their birth means warrior strength.”

“Was it frightening for you in the beginning?”

“Not really. I’d been so sick when they found me, that when I finally healed, I’d become accustomed to them, and they had already welcomed me into the tribe. I had only vague, fading memories of my parents by then. Luckily for me, an elder in the tribe had worked as a guide for a wealthy adventurer. He spoke to me in English enough that by the time I’d grown to manhood, I could speak both languages.”

“Was it strange, coming back to the white world?”

“After Little Swan was killed, I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere anymore. All I knew was that I couldn’t rest until I brought her murderer to justice.”

“You must have loved her a great deal.”

“Since I was twelve.”

“Twelve?” Molly’s heart broke for Kane, who had fallen in love with a young Cheyenne maiden, only to have her taken brutally from him a few years later. And her heart broke for herself as well, to have also married Kane, knowing him as a husband and yet not really knowing him at all. “I’m sorry, Kane.”

He became silent then, his hand still stroking her belly, and at times, his fingertips grazing just beneath her breasts. Oh, how she wanted him to caress her there, to make her come alive, to make her feel like a woman, a wife.

The rain stopped for a moment and all was quiet. It was as though she and Kane were the only two people on earth, the silence almost as deafening as the thunder.

“Are you warming up?” he asked.

Molly wanted to smile. How could she not warm to Kane’s body huddled around hers, his massive form almost enveloping her? “I’m warmer. Do you think the storm is over?”

“Doubtful. More clouds will move in. These storms usually last all night.”

Molly figured what saved them was that Kane had stopped the wagon on higher ground just under a colossal oak, its leaves helping to divert the rain somewhat.

“Close your eyes, Little Bird. Try to sleep.”

Molly couldn’t sleep, but she did close her eyes, trying to block out the emotions roiling around inside. And she found peace for a moment, a lull in her own storm, as Kane continued to stroke her arms and belly, keeping her warm.

But her peace soon shattered as an earsplitting clap of thunder boomed overhead. Molly jumped and turned into Kane’s arms, trembling in fear as lightning struck a tree just ten yards away. She saw the horrible vision through the wheel of the wagon. “Did you see it, Kane?” she cried out. “It’s coming closer.”

“No, it’s moving away. Don’t be scared.”

Molly gripped Kane’s neck and stuck her head under his chin. She clung to him, wishing away her fear. He held her tight, wrapping his arms around her, and it was only once the rain had subsided again, the thunder a distant sound now, that Molly realized their intimate position.

She felt the crush of Kane’s chest to her breasts, the press of his taut belly to hers, but most of all, she felt his rigid desire and knew without a doubt that she wanted him, the way a wife wants a husband.

She kissed his chest, licking at the moist skin, then she lifted her head to plant a kiss to his mouth. Kane responded immediately, a low guttural sound escaping his throat. He took her face in his hands and kissed her back fervently, his lips taking hers like wild whipping wind, until Molly thought she would surely lose all of her breath. Kane moved his hands to her shoulders and then slid them down her arms, stroking her up and down.

Molly broke off the kiss long enough to take his hand. “Touch me, Kane.” And she placed his palm on her breast.

A shudder ran through Kane and she witnessed hesitation in his dark, hungry eyes. “If I do, there’ll be no going back,” he whispered.

His large calloused hand against her soft skin created sharp tingles that reached her toes. Molly didn’t want to go back, she wanted to go forward. She wanted to know Kane as a husband. “I know.”

Kane swept a slow glance over her naked body, then moved his hand on her, stroking her breast, flicking the tip with his thumb. A cry of pleasure erupted inside her. Molly wiggled under Kane’s hand, wanting more.

“You respond to me, Molly.”

Molly knew no shame with Kane. She made it clear with her body that she wanted him. “I always have.”

Kane kissed her then, a long slow exploring kiss that left her weak. He moved on to kiss her chin, her throat, her shoulders. And when he put his mouth to her breasts, Molly cried aloud this time, the sweet torturous pleasure almost too much to bear.

Kane stroked her with his hand and suckled her with his mouth, the softness of his wet hair tickling her skin. Molly giggled between her soft moans, enjoying every single sensation Kane elicited from her.

“Am I warming you?” Kane asked with smoky eyes.

“I don’t think I can get much warmer,” she responded, hot all over.

Kane smiled and kissed her once again. “Just wait, Little Bird.”

Molly kissed him back and wove her hands in his hair gently, then moved down to touch his shoulders, spanning the wide expanse with her palms and marveling at his perfect body. She kissed his throat, his shoulders, moved down to kiss his chest once again, trailing her fingers down along a torso that narrowed down a dangerous path.

Molly knew the exact moment when Kane’s body went rigid. She had yet to glance down past his waist, yet she’d known of his erection, having been pressed against him half the night. She had only imagined…

She dared a quick peek, but one fast look was not enough. Molly stared at his manhood, the length and breadth of it, with wonder. “Oh, my,” she breathed.

Kane’s well-guarded restraint seemed to vanish then. He cupped her face with both hands and kissed her hard on the mouth, driving his tongue inside in search of hers. They mated in open-mouthed frenzy and when the kiss ended, Kane looked deeply into her eyes. She found desire there, a hungry look that might have frightened her if she had not wanted the same.

He took her hand and placed it on his manhood. “Touch me,” he said, repeating her words from before.

Molly gripped him gently and Kane’s eyes closed, his face unmasked now. She moved her hand on the velvety silk, learning the texture, absorbing the feel of him.

Kane lay back as Molly explored further, stroking and sliding her hand up and down. An expression of pleasure and peace stole over Kane momentarily, and Molly found comfort and joy knowing that she brought him this satisfaction.

The rain had subsided now, only a drizzle remained, leaving a fresh scent in the air. They had survived the dangerous storm and would continue on to the Bar J in the morning, but tonight they were alone, on this prairie land, sharing their bodies and, for Molly, sharing her heart.

Kane reached up to take her hand away, his face tight, and he rolled her over onto her back now. “It is your turn now,” he said, kissing her fully on the mouth.

He cupped her breasts once again, weighing them in his hands, caressing and stroking her over and over, until her body moved rhythmically with each of his movements. Little moans of pleasure escaped and Molly’s heart pounded rapidly.

Next Kane stroked her belly, his hand laying flat against her skin, almost fully covering her torso, teasing and tempting as his hand traveled lower and lower. Molly had never known such dire yearning, her body crying out for something she couldn’t quite fathom.

Kane smiled down at her. “You’re a beautiful little bird,” he said, kissing her lips at the same time he found her woman’s mound. Molly jolted when he touched her there, the sensation so new, so startling.

“Close your eyes, Molly,” he said. “Let me bring you pleasure.”

Kane removed her drawers then cupped her, his fingers finding her most sensitive spot. He stroked her slowly, and Molly moved with him, crying out softly from this new and wonderful sensation. “Kane,” she called, never expecting an answer.

All tension oozed out of her. She moved more freely now, her body undulating, absorbing, enjoying Kane’s ministrations. She glanced up into his eyes, to find his, hot and gleaming with desire. She felt herself lifting up, her muscles contracting, waiting, wanting.

And then Kane rose above her. “I will not hurt you, Little Bird.”

Molly knew he wouldn’t. And when he pressed into her, all she felt was a sharp painless burst. Elated and filled with joy, Molly looked up at Kane, his powerful body now joined with hers and her heart nearly exploded with love.

Molly had tried not to fall in love. She’d tried not to surrender her feelings. But Kane was a man to admire, a man who would forever be in her heart. She only hoped that he would come to have the same feelings for her one day.

Tonight she would give him the gift of her body while he took her heart. Tonight, she would not think of the future, but live in the present. Tonight she would love Kane with everything she had inside.

Kane slept well. It had been years since he’d known such peace. Ever since he’d avenged Little Swan’s death, Kane had slept with unease, bad dreams troubling him throughout the night. He’d not had undisturbed sleep for a long time, but in the dawn of a new day, Kane knew a sense of peace reminiscent of the serenity he’d experienced in the arms of his first wife.

But when Kane opened his eyes, it was not Little Swan in his arms, but Molly McGuire Jackson, the woman he’d married temporarily. She slept like the dead, her breaths slow and calm. He’d held her through the night, keeping her warm, but what Kane couldn’t abide was his lack of restraint when he recalled the way the night had ended.

He’d made love to his virgin wife.

Kane cursed silently at his stupidity. Molly had made it clear what she’d wanted, but Kane should have held back and not have succumbed to her charms. He should have resisted the fire in his groin and urgent need he had had to possess her. Kane had touched her. He’d taken her virginity last night. By all rights, both in the Cheyenne and white world, Molly belonged to him now.

He shuddered at the thought and chastised himself for giving in to his desire. Molly could never truly belong to him. Yet as she lay with him, her hair a blazing sunset of red and gold spread out along his arms, her body warm and creamy soft, Kane had little regret about making love to her. For in truth, Kane had never experienced anything more satisfying than to have Molly come alive, then apart in his arms.

Kane’s body reacted just recalling the night of passion they shared, Molly’s instinctive responses spurring his desire even more. Kane closed his eyes once again, allowing himself this one moment to recapture the night in his mind because he knew that he could never make love to Molly again. Not fully, not unguarded. He also knew that once back at the Bar J, he’d be hard-pressed to sleep in her bed and not want her. But Kane would not make the sort of love to her that would bring about a child.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Kane knew in his heart that he would let Molly go once they’d both met the terms of their bargain. He’d already broken one vow last night. He’d not break another.

With that thought, Kane left the comfort of Molly’s soft body, rolling away from her, leaving their little safe haven to meet with the cool unforgiving morning. Naked, his first order of business was to retrieve their clothes, hoping that the small chest he’d stashed under the wagon seat faired well through the storm. He pulled it out and though the chest was soaked, when he reached inside he found the clothes dry enough to wear.

Kane dressed in trousers and a shirt and found something appropriate for Molly to wear. He set her clothes under the wagon where she slept, then went about checking on the horses.

Soon, Molly would awaken and if the roads were ready to travel, they would arrive back at the Bar J by late afternoon.

Molly dressed quickly, eager to see Kane this morning. She had much to say to him, so much… And her heart soared just thinking of the night they’d shared. Molly had never known such ecstasy existed. She had never known such fulfillment. Last night, Kane had heated her body to boiling over. He’d taught her lessons of love. He’d kissed her senseless, caressed her tenderly, and when their bodies joined they climbed together to a glorious peak. She had only to gaze into Kane’s half-lidded eyes to see that he had known great pleasure, too, as they came apart in each other’s arms. The thought warmed her almost as much as Kane’s steamy body next to hers. And afterward, Molly had fallen into a deep dreamless sleep.

Molly fitted her boots on, straightened her dress, smoothed back her hair and came out from under the wagon. She stood upright for the first time since the storm, stretching out with arms overhead. She ignored the stiffness in her limbs and the tenderness she experienced from making love with Kane, too happy to dwell on small things. She searched the area, looking for him.

She found him adding wood to a small fire he’d built a short distance away. Quickly, with eager anticipation and love filling her heart, she walked over to him. “Good morning,” she said, cheerful as a morning jay.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and reached up on tiptoes to plant a kiss to his lips. Bold, yes, but after what they’d shared last night, Molly figured she had a right to kiss her husband good morning.

His body rigid, his eyes unreadable, Kane didn’t kiss her back. In fact, his mood matched the gloomy gray clouds overhead. “Molly.” He acknowledged her then removed her arms from about his neck. Then he glanced at her briefly, his gaze making a quick sweep of her body. “You okay this morning?”

Hot blood rushed to her face and she covered her blush with a big smile. “Just fine. You?”

Kane nodded, looking off in the distance. “Fine. We’ll make the Bar J before the sun sets.”

“We’re going home,” Molly stated and realized that she welcomed the thought. She would have to find other ways to locate Charlie, but the thought of the ranch house, with Bennett waiting, and a nice warm bed to sleep in every night with Kane, suddenly held great appeal. “I’m glad.”

“Glad?” Kane looked at her now, his face a puzzle.

Molly nodded. “Seems like we’ve been away from the Bar J a long time. I’ve been praying for your grandfather’s health every night. I’m hoping he’s better.”

Molly watched as Kane bent to set a coffeepot over the hot embers. “He’s been on my mind,” Kane admitted.

“Is that all that’s been on your mind?” Molly asked, perplexed by his mood. Just hours ago, he’d made her feel special and wanted and loved. Just hours ago, Molly had felt like a wife, in the real sense. And she knew that Kane, too, had felt something strong between them.

Kane stood and inhaled sharply. “Hell, Molly, what do you want me to say exactly?”

Molly didn’t hesitate. Kane had asked and she would surely answer. “Well, for one, you haven’t mentioned our coupling from last night.”

Kane squeezed his eyes shut. “Our coupling?”

“Well, yes.” Molly folded her arms over her middle. “Last night, when we stripped off our wet clothes and got cozy under the wagon. You haven’t mentioned that yet this morning.”

“Hell, I asked how you were feeling.”

“I’m feeling fine, gloriously fine, wonderfully fine, splendidly fine and thank you for asking.”

“Damn it, Molly. Last night was unfortunate. We needed to stay warm….”

“You made me hot, Kane.”

Kane winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I took your innocence.”

Molly reached out to touch his sleeve. “I gave it to you,” she said softly. “It’s okay, Kane.”

He began shaking his head, moving away from her, repeating, “It’s not okay. It’s not okay. Damn it, Molly. Do you realize that we might have created a child last night? A child,” he emphasized by raising his voice. “I can’t abide that.”

A child? A child. Molly hadn’t given that any thought last night. She hadn’t even considered the possibility, yet the thought settled smoothly, lending her a measure of sweet peace. Nothing would make Molly happier than to have Kane’s baby. How often she’d thought about the time when she would conceive a child. Back in St. Louis, Molly had daydreamed of having a family of her own. A husband to love and a child to cherish. She’d worked out in her mind all the vivid details of the kind of life she’d wanted. That, even through bad times, the family would flourish, sustained by surrounding love and devotion.

Her mama had wanted that, too, but her mama had been sorely disappointed by a man who would abandon his young family. Mama had had a hard life. She’d had to work two jobs to support her young children. Often Molly witnessed her mama selling off the family wares and small pieces of furniture. Once Molly was old enough, she too began working—taking in mending after school, helping her mother wherever possible.

Molly’s mother had tried her best and loved with all of her heart, but she’d never known true joy. Not the kind that Molly wished for. Not the kind that Molly vowed to have one day.

But gazing into Kane’s stormy gray eyes, Molly saw obvious distress brewing there. She noted his concern. How could she not? And all of her joy evaporated. Just like that. In the blink of an eye. In the smallest of moments, she realized that nothing had changed for Kane last night.

He hadn’t been swept away as she had. He hadn’t succumbed to a heart filled with love, but rather a body filled with lust. She’d given herself fully, and Kane had taken only what he’d needed.

Molly closed her eyes, placing a hand to her belly. “Don’t worry, Kane. If I’m anything like my mama, I won’t be carrying your child today. It took years for mama to have me. She said it seems to run in the family.”

The storm in Kane’s eyes subsided a bit. His rigid stance relaxed as he stared at her. He nodded, and the relief she witnessed on his face destroyed all hope of a real marriage with Kane. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want her child. Again, she had to remind herself of the bargain they’d struck.

She was a temporary wife—a bride without a groom.

The ache went deep this time, cutting into her spirit, hollowing out her heart. There was no use for tears. Molly cried silently inside.

Kane moved quickly about the camp. Wordless, Molly took the cup of coffee he offered. And when he pulled a rawhide case Molly had once heard him refer to as a parfleche from his saddlebag, he handed it to her. “Try it. It’s all we have for breakfast,” he said.

“What is it?”

“Pemmican.”

Her stomach grumbling, she realized that they hadn’t eaten an evening meal last night. She’d been too frightened by the storm to worry about eating. And after, she’d been captivated by Kane, fed only by his sweet words and tender caresses.

Molly looked at Kane, then reached into the bag, coming up with a mixture that didn’t appear appetizing at all. She brought it to her lips and tasted delicately. “It’s good. Do I want to know what’s in it?”

Kane’s lips quirked, but never quite made a smile. “Winter food for the Cheyenne. Ground jerky and cherries mostly. It’s breakfast for today.”

Molly ate up, filling her belly and by the time she’d finished her coffee, Kane had the horses hitched and the wagon reloaded. He stood waiting for her by the side of the wagon. Molly readied to climb up, but Kane halted her. He stood there, contemplating, struggling with something he wanted to say. “Molly, if you are with child—”

Molly shook her head, unwilling to hear him out. He was too noble a man to allow a woman bearing his child to go without. He would do the honorable thing and take care of her. But Molly didn’t want to hear that. She didn’t want any other bargains or agreements with Kane. She didn’t want to be his burden, a responsibility he’d rather not have. “We created a memory last night, Kane,” she said softly. “Nothing more.”

Molly helped herself up onto the wagon without glancing back at him. She couldn’t bear to see his reaction, his sigh of relief again. With steady nerves, she seated herself on the damp wagon seat and made ready for the ride back to the Bar J.

She no longer felt like she was going home.

The Bar J was as temporary a home as Kane was a husband.