The Wren

by Kristy McCaffrey

  The door opened and the bleak expression on her face immediately concerned him. “What’s wrong?” he asked quickly. “What’s happened?”

  Standing back, she let him inside. Confused, he stared at the bedcovers thrown on the floor. Noticing his line of sight, Molly said, “Sometimes I can’t sleep in the bed. It’s too soft.”

  “So you sleep on the floor?”

  “Not every night, just when I’m restless.”

  She turned toward the window to watch the storm dumping water and wind into the darkness outside.

  “Did Sarah Pickett tell you something?” he asked.

  She nodded, her body tense and rigid. With arms folded tightly before her, the dark dress she wore strained across her shoulders.

  “On nights like these,” she said, “Bull Runner would gather us inside the teepee. While he struggled to keep a fire going, each of the women would sit in a corner trying to keep the buffalo hides from flying up, but the wind made it in anyway. It was so damn miserable sometimes. There were times when I wondered if it wouldn’t be better if I’d just died.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.” He spoke resolutely, willing her to believe it was true.

  She faced him. “Have you ever wondered about the reasons for your existence, Matt?”

  “Molly—”

  “Elijah often spoke to me of God. He even quoted the Bible, at least the verses he could remember from his own mama. There was always one that stuck in my head, something about do not place an obstacle in my path to Him. I’m beginning to think God Himself is placing as many obstacles as He can in my life.”

  “Tell me what Sarah Pickett said,” Matt demanded.

  “It seems Davis Walker is my father,” she said in a rushed sob.

  Matt crossed the room, discarded his crutch and took Molly into his arms. He held tight as she fell apart. “Are you certain?”

  She nodded into his chest. “My mama told her,” she cried.

  He held her close, hardly imagining what any of this meant. The indecency of the revelation belied a grim logic. At the moment, however, all that concerned him was the woman in his arms. Murmuring her name, he offered protection with his embrace, trying to lend her the strength he regretted not giving her throughout the last ten years.

  Releasing his own restraint, he touched her, running his hands down her back then into the soft mass of brown curls. He breathed in the scent of her hair—wildflowers and rain and sunshine. She fit him so easily. Not surprisingly, desire stirred but he took care that she wouldn’t be able to tell. The last thing he wanted to do was send her running away from him.

  Without words, he guided them to the bed, and folded her against him. He stroked her head while she fell into an exhausted sleep. As the rhythm of her deep breathing released a bone-deep tension within his own body, he leaned over and very carefully extinguished the oil lamp on the night table.

  Then, he slept.

  * * *

  Molly awoke abruptly, alone on the rumpled sheets of her bed. Bright sunlight poured through the window. She still wore the same dress from the previous day.

  Matt was with me.

  He’d held her, and they’d slept, together, in each other’s arms. Despite the painful revelations from Mrs. Pickett, Molly felt well rested. She might be able to tolerate the bed more frequently if Matt shared it with her. The thought quickened her pulse.

  But the ever-present loneliness pressed on her.

  Nothing in her life had been constant. Now, the man she’d always thought was her father—Robert Hart—wasn’t. Davis Walker, a man she hardly knew, was. A man she suspected may have murdered her folks.

  What should she do now? Susanna had told her the Ryans would shelter her for as long as she needed. Tears welled up in her eyes. She felt lost, cast adrift in the world. Emma, Mary, her Aunt Catherine—none of them would even recognize her now. They were but strangers to her. Elijah was dead, her mama and the man she thought was her papa were dead. And what of the Kwahadi? That makeshift family had slipped beyond her the moment Bull Runner had traded her.

  God help her, a part of her hadn’t wanted him to leave her. But she’d buried that yearning, along with a thousand others, over the years.

  The tears flowed freely, clouding her vision, effectively shutting the world out.

  * * *

  “Matthew?”

  Matt stopped at the threshold of the dining room and faced his mother. She sat alone, eating breakfast.

  “Can I speak with you a minute?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  Appearing uncomfortable, she said, “Last night I brought food upstairs for Molly. And I…found you with her.”

  Matt shifted. It’d been a while since he’d been caught red-handed by his ma. Damn if he didn’t feel like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “I’m not going to pry,” his mother continued, “but I will ask that you take care with her.”

  “You don’t have to worry, Ma. Her well-being has always been important to me.”

  “Yes, I know. I remember how hard you took it when we all thought she was gone. But she’s a woman now, and I know how scarce women can be in these parts.”

  Matt raised an eyebrow. “I think I can control myself.”

  “Well, I’m not questioning that. It’s just that I can’t help but think of Molly as a daughter, and I don’t want to see her unnecessarily hurt.”

  “What about me?” Matt asked in a teasing tone. “What if I get hurt?”

  “You’re my son and I love you dearly, and of course I want you to be happy. If Molly can do that, then I’m behind this. However, you’ve been a closed book since you rode away from this ranch at the age of eighteen. You’re a fine man, responsible and reliable, and your pa and I couldn’t be more proud of your career in the army and the Rangers, but in the process you’ve buried your heart.

  “Believe me, I hope you can find it again, but please be very careful with Molly’s in the process. Please be very sure of your intentions before you become involved with her.”

  Matt stared at his ma. Leave it to her to cut to the chase and lay it all out before him. And, as usual, she was right.

  “You’re not using your crutch,” she said. “How’s your foot?”

  “Getting better,” he said, still humbled by her insight about him. “I can put a bit of pressure on it now.”

  Susanna rose and came to stand before him. She pulled him down toward her and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

  He grinned at her. “Now you know why I’ve stayed away all these years. I was trying to escape my meddlin’ Ma.”

  She laughed, pushing him away. “Get going. Or I might decide to meddle some more.”

  He kissed her cheek, then made his way to the kitchen.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After a little cajoling, Matt talked Molly into a ride mid-morning. He knew exactly where he wanted to take her. As they approached the abandoned building sheltered by the shade of several cottonwood trees, he thought of the past but also the future. The woman riding ahead of him embodied both.

  “Is this where you and your family lived before the ranch was built?” She glanced over her shoulder. A hat shaded her eyes, but Matt knew the deep blue depths waited to welcome him home.

  He nodded, glad to see she was still herself despite the events of the previous day. She wore a dark blue dress, a simple petticoat bunched up around her knees as she rode, but the sight of bare leg didn’t bother him today. With no one else around for miles, the inadvertent display was only for him. He vowed to behave like a gentleman, his ma’s lecture notwithstanding, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge himself the view. He suspected he could look at Molly for a long time to come.

  She swung down from Pecos and tied the horse to a tree branch. “Do you need help?” She squinted up at him. The storm during the night had blown through, leaving sunshine in its wake.

  “I can manage.” He dismounted, landing on his good fo
ot, which still sent a jolt of pain along his leg, always a reminder of his time with Cerillo. He pushed the shadows away. Today was about moving forward.

  “Are you leaving on the roundup tomorrow?” She helped him with the bag of food he’d brought. Their arms brushed against each other and he enjoyed the contact.

  “I was thinkin’ about it,” he replied, untying a blanket from his saddle. He could ride fairly well now, and he wanted to do his part with the ranch. He owed that much to his folks, but it would also mean time spent away from Molly.

  “You’ll be gone for a few weeks?” She took the blanket from him as well, then walked away before he could protest.

  “Give or take a few days.”

  She spread the cloth on the ground underneath the shade of a tree, positioned the bag of food in the center, then sat on one side and removed her hat. He settled opposite her.

  “You should be careful not to overdo it, but then I’m sure your ma has already told you that.” Molly tucked her legs beneath her dress.

  “Yeah,” Matt said, smiling, “she’s already lectured me on that and several other things.” He’d decided not to tell his ma he planned to take Molly riding, alone. She probably would’ve wanted to chaperone them.

  “You’re lucky. Your folks are wonderful.”

  “Molly, you’ll get through this.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her gaze softened.

  Reluctantly, he let his hand drop away.

  “Thanks for staying with me last night,” she said.

  “You’re not alone anymore. I hope you know that.”

  She didn’t respond, instead shifting her gaze to the flat horizon before them.

  “I’m afraid we were found out,” he added.

  Molly looked at him expectantly.

  “My ma discovered me in your room last night.”

  “She did?” Molly asked in alarm. “Well, you told her nothing happened, didn’t you?”

  Frowning, Matt realized he hadn’t because if he had to be truthful, he’d wanted something to happen. And in the wanting he was as guilty as if he and Molly had actually made love.

  “Don’t worry. My ma has your best interests always in hand.”

  “Oh.” A blush crept up Molly’s cheeks.

  Matt enjoyed her discomfort, savoring her reaction to being with him. He damn well liked everything about her.

  To take his mind off more intimate pursuits, he reached for the bag and began removing fried chicken, bread, cheese, and two red apples. He also pulled out a dark bottle and two tin cups.

  “What’s that?” Molly asked.

  “Wine. Even out here in the middle of nowhere, we’re not so backward as everyone would have you think.”

  A smile tugged at Molly’s mouth. “I wouldn’t know. Of what’s forward, backwards, or any which way, that is.”

  He popped the cork, poured the amber liquid into a cup and handed it to Molly. He filled the other cup, then clicked hers in a toast. “To only moving forward from now on.”

  Molly took a sip. “It’s good.” She licked her lips.

  “Try and eat something.” He didn’t want his ma accusing him of getting Molly soused just so he could steal a kiss, although the idea did have merit.

  In an easy silence they ate, drank more wine, and watched clouds move across the sky. After a time, Molly lay back onto the blanket.

  “The wine’s making me sleepy.” She rubbed her forehead.

  Matt cleaned up the remains of the food, set the bag aside, then reclined beside her. “A nap sounds like a good idea.” He covered his face with his hat, then reached out and grasped Molly’s hand. She interlaced her fingers with his and together they dozed, the calming silence of the wind lulling them to sleep.

  * * *

  Molly came awake with a start. Sitting up, she noticed it was late afternoon and that Matt still slept, if the low and constant snoring coming from him was any indication. Lifting his hat, she set it nearby and looked at the man who had stood by her in these strange and uncertain days since her return to Texas. If she wasn’t careful, she’d come to rely on his presence too much.

  But it was difficult to not want more from him, to not want it all. She watched his strong jawline and shadowed cheeks, mellowed in his relaxed state yet still exuding a masculinity that was a natural part of him. His broad chest rose and fell with each breath. A hand with long fingers rested on his stomach, the sun-darkened skin in stark contrast with the ivory shirt he wore. His long legs stretched out before him, his scuffed boots crossed at the ankles.

  Molly could hardly resist. Leaning over him, she kissed him gently on the mouth. He tasted of chicken and wine, his lips warm, and the new growth of stubble pricked her chin. He stirred. A large hand reached up to grasp behind her head so she kissed him again.

  He responded to her this time, both hands burrowing in her hair, drawing her down. Their lips fit together as if they’d always been made for the other, and Molly sank against him. His mouth moved over hers, drinking her in, and she followed his lead, meeting his overtures fully, determined not to waste this opportunity of getting him to respond to her. She shifted an arm and buried a hand into his hair, reveling in the feel of the thick tresses, wanting to touch him with intimate gestures she had only imagined. Lost in the sensation that being near him brought, she let her lips move to his cheeks, not caring as his whiskers poked, showing him with her response how much she desired him.

  In one swift motion, he rolled her onto her back and covered her with his body. His tongue swept her mouth with a searing intensity, obliterating her ability to think. Grasping tightly to his shoulders, she clung to him and the lightning bolt of sensation released between them. She felt the hardness of him press against her and it didn’t scare her. She simply wanted more…of this, of him, of Matt.

  Abruptly he stopped and leaned into her shoulder, breathing heavily. “Molly,” he whispered. “We can’t.”

  “Why not?” She tried to bring his mouth back to hers.

  “Not here. Not like this.” He lifted his head to look at her. Then, he laughed. “If I thought all that wine would make you frisky, then I wouldn’t have brought it. On the other hand, waking up to you draped all over me is the nicest dream I can imagine.”

  He kissed her again, sweetly, lingering over her.

  “I don’t understand,” she said against his mouth, lifting her head toward his in an attempt for a deeper kiss. “Don’t you want me?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers, forcing her to stop her seeking. “Since the moment I laid eyes on you again.” His breath mixed with hers.

  He disengaged from her and stood, offering a hand. Disappointment and frustration welled up inside as he pulled her upright.

  “This is best for you, Molly.” He released her hand and she immediately missed his warmth and the fire only he could ignite within her.

  “How do you know what’s best for me?” She couldn’t keep the irritation from her voice.

  “A young woman has to consider her future. Rolling around in the dirt shouldn’t really be a part of that future.”

  “You think this is amusing, don’t you?” she accused, planting hands on hips and looking to the prairie beyond.

  He grinned, then picked up a small rock and threw it into the distance. “I think it’s sweet you haven’t changed much, still rolling around in the dirt and all.”

  Was he serious? He says he wants her, but then likens her to the little girl she used to be. A little girl so long gone from her life, she could hardly remember what it felt like to be excited to greet each new day. Until now. Until him. He made her want so much more than she ever dreamed could be within her grasp.

  Discouraged by the turn the day had taken, she walked over to the dwelling the Ryan family inhabited so many years ago. Stepping inside, she blinked a few times until her eyes adjusted to the dark corners. Four windows, with no glass or shutters, let light enter the one-room abode. A small cast-iron stove stood at one end
, but other than that the room was empty save for dirt on the wooden floor and spider webs in abundance.

  Molly slowly walked around the room. She ran fingers along the stove, the coolness surprising her. A shadow crossed the doorway and she saw Matt’s large frame, his hat firmly in place, silhouetted as he leaned on the doorjamb.

  “They took just about everything when they built the ranch house,” he said. She couldn’t see his face, could only hear his deep voice as he cornered her, much the way he’d cornered her heart, only to turn away from her in the end. “My pa always thought he’d clean the place up, make a little getaway for him and my ma.”

  “Why didn’t he?” Her voice echoed off the walls.

  Matt shrugged. “Never got around to it, I guess.”

  “Time is precious,” she said quietly. “You shouldn’t waste it.” She knew that better than most.

  Matt watched her, but whatever he thought he kept to himself. “Speaking of time,” he finally said, “I’d better get you back to the ranch or else my ma is gonna think we were doing a lot more than kissing on that blanket.”

  Why is it when he spoke it was like a caress on her skin? Her heart raced and warmth spread throughout her body, most especially in her belly, making her ache for him.

  A wistful longing filled her to be back on the ground, beside him, watching the clouds pass by and knowing that he was hers.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Matt and nearly all of the men who worked and lived at the SR departed the following morning. Susanna said they’d be gone at most ten days, working in tandem with several other ranches in the area to round-up the cattle grazing and surviving on thousands of acres of the surrounding countryside.

  Unable to sleep, Molly stood on the porch to see them off in the pre-dawn haze. Matt’s wink set her stomach to fluttering before he rode off in the mass male exodus. His behavior thrilled and irritated her at the same time. If he didn’t want her, then why did he tease her?

  On the same thought, she realized ten days without him was almost more than she wanted to contemplate. And so, the first day passed under a depressing cloud.