She was washing dishes when Adam came dashing through the kitchen door.
“I need the gun, Molly!” He snatched it from the wall over the fireplace. Checking its load, he made again for the door.
Molly ran after him. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
“Wolverine. He’s been in Tim-Two’s traps and we can smell him near the shed.” Molly lingered beside the door. Adam stopped in front of her. “I want you to shut this door and stay inside. Do you understand?”
She nodded, shut the door, and went to the window. Dog was running about, barking excitedly. Dear God, don’t let Adam be hurt. Please, please, please! “I love him.” She said the words aloud, unaware of doing so. Without a thought of Adam’s orders she slipped into her parka, stepped into her snow boots, and went out the door.
Taking big frosty breaths of the chilling air, she knew the foul-smelling beast was close by as soon as she stepped out the door. Rounding the corner of the house, she could see Dog holding the small wolverine at bay between the shed and the board fence. She heard the savage growling as the snarling beast lunged at Dog. Molly knew Dog didn’t have a chance and screamed at him. He backed off as the undaunted wolverine charged him. Adam dropped to one knee in the snow, aimed the gun, and squeezed the trigger.
The shot hit the wolverine dead center and he dropped into a convulsing heap. Dog charged in, but was reluctant to touch the foul-smelling body. Molly called him and he obediently came to her.
Adam rose and swung around to face her. “I told you to stay in the cabin!” he shouted harshly.
“I know you did, but I was worried for Dog . . . and you.” Her voice quavered in her relief that he was safe.
“You risked your life!” He yelled at her in his anger.
“I didn’t think I was risking my life,” she said in a way of defense.
“The odds were not in your favor with the wolverine. If he’d got past me, he would have been at your throat in a second.” He was so angry now his face had turned red.
Her lips quivered as she realized the danger to Adam as well as to herself. If he had been distracted for even one second by her appearance . . . she shivered and dropped her eyes, abandoning her defense.
“Get inside!” he commanded.
She hurried into the cabin, shut the door, and leaned against it, weak at the thought of what she had done. She could hear Adam and Tim-Two discussing the wolverine.
“By damn, by damn!” Tim-Two was saying. “What a devil! Him would come right to the cabin, no?”
Adam stayed away from the cabin most of the day. He and Tim-Two tried to rid the place of the smell of the beast. He helped the Indian disinfect his traps; otherwise he would have no winter catch. All animals shy away from the smell of the wolverine. Molly suspected he was staying away so his temper would cool before confronting her again.
Darkness set in before he returned. The cabin was filled with the tantalizing odor of cooking meat and vegetables. He sniffed approvingly.
“Something smells good,” he said.
She gave a pleased little smile, but avoided meeting his eyes. She knew that he knew his favorite dish was a peace offering.
She served him the stew and hot biscuits. After being out in the cold most of the day he was hungry and had several helpings. His mood had softened, but she kept her eyes down, not wanting to give him an opening to speak about what had happened. Adam realized this and kept silent.
He was restless and wandered around the room while she was at the sink. She was frantically trying to plan something to do when she finished the dishes. It would be unbearable to sit across from him tonight if they didn’t talk. She finished and was hanging away the towel when he came up close behind her. He put his hands on her forearms and pulled her back against him. She could feel the thud of his heart—or was it her heart—she couldn’t tell which. Leaning his head down, he nuzzled her ear.
“You do understand why I was so angry?” She nodded. “I was terrified at what could have happened to you!”
She didn’t say anything. She wanted to say she was sorry, but she couldn’t get the words out.
Still holding her, he let his mouth rest on the side of her neck. “You’ll not disobey me again, when I tell you to do something for your own good?”
“No. And I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
He let out a long breath and squeezed her arms tightly. “Let’s put on some music and sit by the fire, okay?” He took her hand and led her into the living area.
Molly sat in her rocker and watched him while he loaded the stereo with the music he had selected. She filled her eyes with him, the broad shoulders, the narrow waist, the lean hips. I’ll always love him, she thought. How could I possibly love another man after knowing him? She picked up her knitting, so she would have something to do with her hands and have an excuse for not looking at him.
He came to his big chair, sat down, and stretched out his long legs. He was so still Molly thought he had fallen asleep, so she dared a look at him. His black eyes were openly staring at her. She held his gaze for a moment, then dropped her eyes, the color coming up into her cheeks. She saw the long legs draw up out of her line of vision. He got up and came toward her, took the knitting out of her hands, and put it on the floor by her chair. Taking her hand in his, he drew her to her feet, and drawing her along with him went back to his chair and sat down. He tugged at her hand, but she resisted him. He tugged harder and pulled her down onto his lap.
He settled himself comfortably after swinging her legs across the arm of the chair and pressing her head down on his shoulder. Molly attempted to raise her head and look at him, but he pressed her head firmly down again.
“Be still,” he said, “I just want to hold you.”
They listened to the music, much the same as they did the night in Adam’s apartment. Molly snuggled closer in his arms and gave herself up to the joy of being close to him. He was in a strangely quiet mood. He stroked her hair and ran his fingers down the smooth flesh of her arm. She timidly lifted her fingers to his neck, then to his ear, coming to his cheek to find his mouth and trace it lightly. She felt his lips open and nibble at her fingers. She smiled a secret smile against his throat. She loved him, she wanted him, and he wasn’t indifferent to her. The knowledge gave her the courage to allow her fingers to stray to the buttons on his shirt and slip her hand inside the opening to touch his skin. The hair on his chest was slightly rough against her fingers and she felt a shudder go through him as she gently tugged at it.
His lips descended to hers where they teased lightly, sending curious sensations along Molly’s spine, and coherent thought slid into oblivion. She gave a convulsive shudder and put her arms about his neck signaling her complete submission with parted lips. His mouth crushed down on hers, demanding, hurting, and pleasing her. She felt the warmth of his body and the beat of his heart beneath her palms. He forced back her head and deepened the kiss to hot, insistent possession. She made no move to stop him when he unbuttoned her blouse, and his fingers teased the stiff nipples, caressing them so that they hardened even more. Every part of her body ached with the need of him. The little sounds she made seemed to arouse him more and he trembled violently and slid his lips from her mouth to her cheek, then down to her neck.
“Darling . . .” His voice was husky and almost inaudible. He buried his face in her neck. She could feel his lips and tongue. Her body was on fire for him and she felt as if she were suspended in outer space.
Adam lifted his head and his half-closed eyes flashed over her face. His was strangely pale.
“I thought I could hold you and not make love to you, but I can’t,” he said hoarsely. He lifted her from his lap and got to his feet. “Go to bed, Molly.”
She looked at him dazedly, her trembling fingers working at the buttons on her blouse. With bowed head and on shaking legs, she went to her room. She was on the point of tears, tired and drained.
Molly stood in the darkened room
for a few minutes before turning up the light and making ready for bed. There was an ache in the pit of her stomach. In her innocence she didn’t realize aroused desire was a tortuous thing. It was twisting inside her now like a small trapped animal, clawing for its freedom. Automatically she put several pieces of hardwood in the round stove and went into the bathroom where she brushed her teeth and washed her face. The cool cloth felt good on her burning skin. When leaving, she did as she did every night, opened the door to Adam’s room, and closed the door to her own. She slipped on her nightgown. Sitting on the side of her bed, she brushed her hair and words that had been etched into her subconscious filled her thoughts. Someday, Charlie had told her, a man will come into your life who will fill it with his presence. He will love and cherish you and give you children. When that time comes, it will be the beginning of an extension of yourself. Molly sat very still. The tension left her. She had reached a decision. After turning out the light, she opened the kitchen door and slipped into bed.
The wind had gone down and the reflection of the white snow coming in the windows gave the room a soft glow. There were stirrings now in the other room. Adam had put the big log on the fire, checked the doors, and let Dog out into the cold night. She heard him moving about in his room and then he came through the bathroom and closed the connecting door. She lay tense and waiting.
The moment came! He opened the door to her room so the heat could circulate.
“Adam . . . ?”
“You called me?” He came into the room, his flashlight beaming a path on the floor.
“Yes.” She was trembling with unbelievable tension.
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Something wrong, Molly?”
“Adam . . .” she started again bravely. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. Although we both know this marriage isn’t permanent, it’s a marriage. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be a real one. I’m—I’m willing to be a wife to you, if you want me.” Her voice vibrated with emotion. He turned out the light. “I’ll not hold onto you . . . you’ll always be free to go.” All her barriers were down; her pride was gone.
He saw that she was both desperate and uncertain, and also near tears.
“Are you sure?” he asked hoarsely.
She answered with only the slightest hesitation. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Adam stood, took off his robe, and raised the blankets to slip in beside her. He could see the gleaming whiteness of her shoulders and breasts. He put his arms around her and held her tightly to him, one hand moving down her back, fingers lightly caressing. She went to him willingly and snuggled against him. She was trembling with relief and unbelievable happiness. She heard him catch his breath sharply as her bare breasts came in contact with his chest. Her arms went around him and she nibbled at his neck with her teeth, uncertain of what was expected of her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said in shaking tones.
“What do you want to do, love?” His lips were against her forehead.
“I want to kiss you!”
“Well . . .” he said laughing softly, happily.
“Adam . . . Adam.”
She whispered the words against his mouth. He caressed her with his lips, soothing her body with his hands. A wild, sweet enchantment rippled through her veins as his mouth moved over her cheek, down her throat, and onto her breast. The knowledge that he was not trying to rush her, holding his own passion in check, filled her heart with love for him.
“Molly, sweetheart . . . !” he murmured in her ear.
When it was over, she was filled with indescribable joy and contentment. He stroked her hair and kissed her. With all the honesty of her young heart she reached up to whisper against his cheek: “I love you. Have I made you happy?”
His mouth moved in search of her own. “Very happy!”
She cradled his dark head against her breasts, enjoying this new and wondrous sensation. She felt him in every pore of her body and in every beat of her heart. She was silent for a long while, then whispered in a voice filled with awe.
“I could never imagine how it would be. I’m glad it was you who showed me.”
He propped himself up on one elbow. The pale oval of her face was framed in the golden hair strewn across the pillow.
“There is more, sweetheart, and for you it will only get better.”
The words were said against her mouth as the warm urgency of his lips claimed hers, and he took her again to that heavenly oblivion where she was aware of only his warm body and urgent demands.
“Go to sleep now.” His voice broke into her drowsy conscience. He kissed her shoulder and neck and heard her sigh of contentment. He ran his hand lovingly down the full length of her body and she took it in hers and held it tightly to her breast.
Molly awoke first and lay on her side watching him sleep. The strong, finely chiseled lines and contours of his face were relaxed. His mouth was firm and beautifully molded. How gentle he had been with her! She had never thought that the consummation of marriage could be such a glorious thing. She had been carried away on a passionate tide of love for him, out of her depth and into a new and completely uncharted sea that contained only Adam and the overpowering love she had for him.
Not once, but many times during the night she had confessed her love for him. He seemed to like hearing her say it. He called her “love,” but never one time said he loved her. Not even when he reached out for her the second time, then a third, and made ardent love to her all over again.
The desire to touch him was irresistible to her now, and she pushed her fingers gently through his hair. So thick and soft it was! He stirred and she withdrew her hand and hid it beneath the covers, but it was caught and held tightly. Black eyes, just inches away from her own, were open and laughing into hers.
“What were you thinking, while you were looking at me?”
“You were awake?”
“I was watching you even before you awakened. What were you thinking?”
“I . . . was thinking that you must be hungry!”
He laughed and pressed his body down on hers. “In the position you’re in, you couldn’t have been thinking about food!”
She slid her arms around his neck, her hand coming around to stroke his cheek. “Your face is rough,” she said with uninhibited frankness.
“It usually is the first thing in the morning. You’ll just have to get used to it.” He kissed her soundly before burying his face between her shoulder and neck. She jumped as his teeth nipped her. “Get up and fix my breakfast, woman!”
“In my position you want me to think about food?”
“Well . . . on second thought . . .” his words were shut off as his lips found hers.
Everything was bright and beautiful. It had stopped snowing and the world was crisp and white. The trees hung heavy with new snow and Dog scurried around making tracks as he chased the birds foraging for food. Tim-Two was preparing to reset his trap lines and Dog was excited at the prospect of a trip into the woods. Adam brought a fresh supply of wood into the house from the woodpile. His feet made snowy tracks on the kitchen floor, and he laughed at the scolding Molly gave him.
She was radiant with happiness, her sparkling eyes seeking Adam’s at every opportunity. She was full of contentment, and her voice carried an extra trill when she spoke to Jim on the radio later that morning.
“How about it, Molly girl? How about that, pretty Molly girl? Do you have a copy this morning?” Jim’s voice came in loud and clear.
Molly picked up the microphone. “Of course I have a copy! How are you on this lovely day?”
“Lovely day? It must be about thirty below!” He gave a burr sound.
“I’m baking fresh cookies, Big Bird. Do you have time to drop in?”
“No time for a tea party today unless you need me.”
“I don’t need a thing, Jim,” she said gaily. She looked up to see Adam standing in the doorway, and gave him her brightest smile.
“
You’re sure now?” Jim insisted.
“Things are just fine with us, Jim. Tell Evelyn and the boys hello. Adam and I are sorry you can’t stop this trip. Try and make time on your next run.”
“Will do. I’m about out of range, so will clear with you until the next time.” His voice faded as he flew out of range. Molly didn’t answer, she knew her voice wouldn’t reach him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE DAYS THAT followed were wonderful and the nights more so. Molly was walking on a bright cloud of happiness. She wanted to be with Adam every minute of the day; to see him and touch him. He seemed to feel the same. Whenever she was near, his arms reached out for her, and their smiling eyes would catch and hold. Some days didn’t have enough hours for them to say all they wanted to say to each other. Other days they were content just to be near and to touch. No words were necessary.
Molly never let her mind wander to the months ahead. She looked back once and thought about her father. She hoped he knew how happy she was and wondered if this was, indeed, his plan for her. They never spoke about the forced marriage, or the separation at the end of the year. In the evenings she would curl up in his lap and they would listen to the radio or just stare into the fire, until their desire for one another became so great, Adam would dump her off his lap and growl: “Get to bed, woman!”
They had been living in their new happiness for a week when their name was called on the “personal message” program during the noon broadcast.
“Attention, Adam Reneau,” the announcer said, “you have visitors coming up on the morning train. Suggest you be at the track eleven A.M.”
“That will be Patrick. I didn’t expect him for a while yet.”
Molly tried not to show her disappointment and dampen Adam’s enthusiasm. But somehow she felt the end had come to her dream world. Another person to share her honeymoon? Her year with Adam? A feeling of jealousy toward this unknown Patrick flooded her.
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