by Jodi Thomas
As he stepped onto the back porch, Molly’s outline blinked in the lightning. She’d removed her blouse and was scrubbing her arms with soap then leaning into a waterfall of rain cascading off the roof. Her hair hung in wet curls down her back, and her camisole clung to her like a second skin.
He watched her lean into the rain three times before he realized she wasn’t planning on stopping. Slowly, he moved behind her.
When she felt him at her back, she jolted, then relaxed into his arms.
Wolf took the soap from her hand and set it aside. Then he stretched her hands into the rain, moving his over them to wash away the last of the lye. As he folded Molly into his embrace, Wolf realized she was soaked to the bone.
For a while, he held her without saying a word, loving the way she felt against him, needing the home of her arms to retreat to, if only for a little while.
There were no games or rules between them now. The horror of what they’d both been through today had washed all that away. He needed her, and he knew she needed him just as desperately. In the world of his arms lay the only peace either of them would know this night.
Without a word, he lifted her and carried her inside. She leaned her head against his shoulder as he moved carefully up the stairs. They passed Callie Ann’s room. Charlie, his head and face a mass of bandages, lay on one bed, Early on the other. The nurse sitting between them smiled up at Wolf as he slowly walked by. She nodded that all was quiet.
Wolf closed the bedroom door and gently stood Molly in front of the fireplace. She didn’t move as he lit the wood. The painted tiles flickered to life as they reflected the flames in warm welcome. He pulled several towels from the stack by the washstand and returned to her side without lighting any lamps. He undressed her by the firelight.
Molly watched him closely as his awkward fingers worked the buttons at her waist. Her skirt tumbled to the floor. There was no need for her to ask about Callie Ann. If anything had changed, he would have told her. Even in the dim light, she could see the exhaustion and sorrow in his eyes.
His big hands calmed her as they moved over her body, pulling layers of clothing away. Her emotions were raw, brittle to the point of breaking. He handled her with great care, as though he knew how near the edge she walked.
When she was fully nude before him, he knelt and began drying her with a towel. She moved when he directed. The warmth of the towel soothed over her, along with the warmth of his hands. He dried and caressed every part of her until, finally, he stood and moved his fingers into her hair. Gently, Wolf leaned her back, bracing her with his arm so her hair fell free in the warm air drifting from the fire. He swayed gently in a slow rhythm while her hair dried.
When he finished, he wrapped her with one of Aunt Alvina’s handmade quilts and sat her close to the fire while he undressed.
Wolf unbuckled his gun belt slowly, as if with the weapon went the weight of his job. When he hung the Colts over the bedpost, she knew his responsibilities were never far away. She’d expected him to stop before he removed his trousers, but he didn’t. As if he were unaware that she watched, he removed all his clothes and dried before the fire.
The flickering firelight reflected off his body, the powerful muscles, the slim planes, the scars. Lightning flashed across the windows. Like a wild animal in his prime, he was frightening and beautiful.
When he finally turned back to her, Wolf raked his hands over his damp hair and closed the distance between them.
Pulling her to her feet, he let the quilt fall away and drew her to him.
The completeness of holding him engulfed her senses. She could feel not only their skin touching, but their very hearts. Raising her arms, she melted into him, keeping nothing back from this man who’d somehow become a part of her.
For a long while, they held one another. All that she breathed was him. All that she felt was him. The sound of his heart pounding was the only sound in the world. No dream could ever touch this reality.
After a while, she became aware of his hands moving over her, the action so natural she couldn’t have said when it began. His gentle touch spread across her hips and moved up her back and sides.
Molly leaned back, knowing his arm would hold her. Closing her eyes, she let the warmth of his hands flow over her. He caressed her so gently, so completely.
When she straightened, she rested against the solid wall of his chest, feeling as if she’d come home. He didn’t kiss her, though they were near enough to feel one another’s breath. He pushed her hair away from her shoulder and lowered his face against her throat, breathing in her scent as if it were more vital than air.
Molly felt his mouth open over her flesh, and she tilted her head to offer him all he wanted of the taste of her. The pleasure of the tip of his tongue sliding over her neck made her weak with need. She would have fallen if he hadn’t held her to him. Finally, when she was lost in warm sensations flowing like wine through her veins, he raised his head.
His brown eyes smoldered with desire and a need so great it took her breath away. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the bed. With gentle hands, he lowered her onto her stomach.
She’d expected him to stretch out beside her, but he vanished. For a moment, she panicked, thinking what she’d just experienced had been a dream, thinking she’d have to give this heaven up for reality.
Then he was back, standing beside the bed with the powder she’d used the night he’d seen her undress. Without a word, he shook some in his hand and began slowly smoothing it into her skin. His callused hands stroked from her shoulder to her knee, smoothing the powder into her flesh. Relaxing tired muscles along with broken dreams with his gentle caress.
She rolled over and let him continue. His fingers circled her breasts. She kept her gaze on his eyes as he explored her body. The pleasure she saw there made her believe she was beautiful, desirable, and desperately needed.
And explore her he did, like a man starved for the feel of her. He drew her into his world, his real world, of touch. His hands molded over her again and again until she accepted his embrace without hesitance or shyness. Each time she relaxed fully, he became bolder. He was making her his and she willingly took the journey.
Slowly, the warmth in his hands spread a fire within her like she’d never known. She moved with his touch, responding, loving, feeling. When his mouth finally lowered to hers, she was hungry for him. Sighing, she lifted her arms, aware of how much she’d longed for his kiss.
Wolf lowered his body above her. The joy of feeling him covering her made her shake with urgency. She wrapped her arms around him and brought him closer, wanting all he offered.
His kiss was tender, hesitant; hers wild and demanding. Each pleasure he gave her made her long for more.
When he rolled to his side, she cried out softly in disappointment, but then his hands moved over her and she understood. The kiss deepened as his touch grew bolder. He slipped his hand between her legs and pulled them apart, meeting no resistance. Without breaking the kiss, he rolled on top of her once more, pressing her deep into the covers.
When he entered her, she would have cried out in pain, but his mouth covered hers. As he moved inside her, she broke the kiss, frantically trying not to scream. She heard him whispering something in her ear, but couldn’t understand the words. Sensations washed over her in waves, blocking out all the world but him and what he was doing.
The pain eased and the warmth of him above her seemed to dissolve into her. As when he’d touched her, she moved with him, riding the wave of excitement that surged through her body.
A longing for more raced through her. She held to him, afraid that he might leave her alone with the fire inside her. Afraid she’d die from the agony, the need, the desire for more.
Then, suddenly, he pushed deep inside her, and the need exploded into ecstasy. She held to him as pleasure washed through her with such a raging flood that she shook.
He carried her gently back to shore in his arms. Tenderly, h
e settled her with his touch and soft kisses over her body.
Molly relaxed, too exhausted even to try to understand what had happened to her.
As she moved into a deep sleep, she heard him whisper in his low Southern tone, “I’ll love you forever, Molly.”
TWENTY-SIX
“MOLLY,” WOLF WHISPERED AGAINST HER EAR.
She stirred, reaching for him in the darkness. The fire had died down, and the room had grown cold. She heard the pounding rain against the windows, but she was cuddled warm in his arms.
“Hmmm,” she mumbled, brushing her hand across his heart.
“Molly?” He lifted his arm, moving her to a sitting position, demanding she wake. “We need to get under the covers.” He lifted her off the bed without waiting for an answer.
She put her arms around him as he pulled back the blankets and lowered her into place. Her sleepy body wanted him near.
When she would have slipped back into sleep, he whispered against her ear, “Are you awake?” He shook her shoulder gently. “Molly? Are you awake?”
“Why?” she yawned. “It couldn’t possibly be morning yet.”
“Because I want my wife awake when I make love to her again.” His hand boldly cupped her breast. “I want her fully awake.”
She rubbed her eyes and tried to see him in the shadows. “Again?” she whispered as he pulled her close. Her bare body moved against him naturally.
“Again.” He laughed and lowered his mouth to the breast he’d just claimed.
Molly opened her eyes wide as a jolt of pleasure shot through her. “Wolf!” she cried when she realized what he was doing. “Wolf,” she pleaded, fearing he might stop.
He explored her body as if for the first time, while she tried to hold to an ounce of control. “No matter what you do, Wolf Hayward, I’m not going to tell you I love you.”
He seemed far more interested in the way her body moved to his touch than in what she said. Finally, he mumbled, “Fine, I’m not going to tell you I love you either.”
In the warmth beneath the covers, he taught her more of heaven. This time, there was no pain, only sweet pleasure. He made love to her slowly. He wanted her so deep inside his senses that he’d never get the taste or feel or smell of her out of the core of his being.
Finally, when she lay exhausted in his arms, Wolf smiled as he pushed her hair away from her damp flesh. He couldn’t resist spreading his hand wide and moving down her body. He circled over her abdomen, knowing someday his child would grow inside her.
Almost back to sleep, Molly still responded to his touch. He pressed his hand lightly along her flesh. “I love you, Molly.” He said the words he’d promised himself he wouldn’t say again unless she answered. “I love you, and I will until the day I die.”
He lowered his face to where their child would grow and kissed her there. She let him do whatever he liked now. She was his in body.
The vision of her with child brought Callie Ann to mind. Slowly, he forced himself to leave Molly and stand. He would sleep no more tonight. He’d stolen a few hours away, but now it was time to return. When he’d seen Molly on the porch, he hadn’t planned to love her, only to hold her, protect her.
As Wolf dressed, he watched her. She looked even more beautiful now that she’d tasted passion fully. He felt more lost than Callie Ann. He was in love with a woman who was only playing at marriage. Not only in love with her, but dumb enough to tell her so.
He’d seen men make fools of themselves over love and swore he’d never be one. But he had to fight to keep from crawling back in bed with her right now. She was just a woman, he thought. Just flesh and blood. She was stubborn, with a loose lasso around reality. She was one of the best doctors around, but thought of herself as a druggist. She wanted to be married and was willing to offer her body, but she didn’t want to give her heart.
Wolf reached for his gun belt and strapped it on. He might as well shoot himself in the leg, he decided. Nothing would stop him from being a fool, but a limp might slow him down. It was only a matter of time until he went mad and started begging for drinks and sleeping in the streets. Wolf laughed. Liquor wouldn’t wash Molly out of his system.
He thought of waking her to say good-bye, but he wasn’t sure he could get that close to her without touching her again.
Silently, he moved from the room.
The house was still. He checked on Charlie and Early. They slept quietly, as did the nurse. Charlie’s hand twitched slightly, as if he were reaching for something. Early’s face looked almost as white as the sheet, but she still breathed.
In the kitchen, Wolf noticed a pot of coffee left over low coals. The beans had boiled so long in the pot he almost had to chew before he could swallow, but it was hot enough to kick him full awake. He stood and watched the rain out the kitchen window while he ate half a pound cake he’d found wrapped in a tea towel.
Something had been gnawing at the back of his mind since before dark yesterday. The Diggers were good at getting away, but they weren’t that good. The rain might have cloaked them somewhat, but most rangers could have tracked fresh trails. If they didn’t get away, there was only one answer. The Digger brothers and Callie Ann were still in town. And, he guessed, they wouldn’t dare kill her here. It would be too obvious. If they wanted to murder her, they could have done that yesterday and left her body in the house with Charlie and Early. For some reason, they needed Callie Ann alive, or at least they needed not to be marked as her killers. All he had to figure out was why.
“Wolf,” Molly whispered from behind him.
He whirled around, taking the impact of her beauty full against his senses. She took his breath away. Her hair was a mass of tangles and curls. Her bare feet stuck out from beneath her robe. A robe beneath which, he imagined, she wore nothing else.
“Yes?” He gripped the counter to keep from moving to her.
“I thought you’d gone.”
“I will be in a few minutes.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, but crossed the room to stand in front of him. He could still smell the powder he’d rubbed across her skin. Her lips looked slightly swollen, exactly as if they’d been kissed thoroughly during the night.
“You’ll be careful?” she asked.
“I’ll be careful,” Wolf answered, knowing that wasn’t what she’d rushed down to tell him. If she moved a step closer, she’d be in his arms. He’d like to hear her confess her love while he touched her.
She hesitated then began, “I just wanted to say thank you for last night.”
The smile vanished from his face. Wolf’s muscles hardened, taking the blow. He grabbed her so quickly, she didn’t even have time to react. He pulled her against him and kissed her on the mouth with none of the tenderness or gentleness he’d shown an hour before.
Just as quickly, he shoved her away and moved to the door. As he crammed on his hat, he looked back. Hurt and anger burned in his brown eyes. “Don’t ever thank me again, madam. I wasn’t performing a service.”
Before Molly could react, he was gone.
It took several attempts for her to control her breathing. She collapsed into the kitchen chair, trying to figure out what she’d said that had been so terrible. How could a man be so loving, so caring, and turn into such a bear at dawn?
The memories of the night drifted back to her. She recalled standing on the back porch, letting the rain wash over her, feeling broken and drained. And then, he’d been there, holding her, caring for her, loving her.
Tears rolled down her cheeks without being checked. “Loving me,” she whispered, trying to understand the words. He must have been as tired and frustrated as she was last night, but his thoughts were for her.
She closed her eyes tightly, sending a waterfall down her face. She knew what he wanted her to say. What he’d thought she’d been about to say when she’d rushed down before he left. He was a big strong man, the bravest in town, many said, but he needed her to tell him she loved him.
And she couldn’t. He should understand. She’d told him from the first that she’d never say the words. What did they matter? She’d be his wife in every other way.
She wished she could make him understand. If she said she loved him, she’d have to turn loose of Benjamin forever. Three words would shatter all the dreams she’d had with Benjamin, and he’d be nothing more than a man she’d met once on a platform. A man who’d kissed her and gone away to war and never returned.
Benjamin had been in her thoughts and journals for years. She’d built a life for them in her mind. They’d grown together. They’d talked in her writing. He’d asked her to wait, and she’d sworn in her heart that she would.
Molly pushed the tears off her face and stood. Wolf wanted too much. She’d already lost all her writings in the fire. Did she have to give up her dreams as well?
Halfway up the stairs, Molly caught her breath, suddenly realizing that Benjamin’s love was only a paper valentine compared to Wolf’s real beating heart. One was a man, her man. The other only a memory.
By the time Dr. Washburn arrived, Molly was dressed. With the help of the nurse, she changed Early’s bandages and managed to get a few swallows of water down Charlie. But there was little progress.
Washburn watched the patients from the bedroom door as he removed his coat. “If this rain doesn’t let up, I’m going to quit medicine and start building an ark.”
Molly smiled at him. Yesterday, although he was the least skilled of the doctors who’d arrived, he’d made up for it in caring. In a few years, he’d make a great doctor.
“I woke Doc Harley up when I came in. He said he’d be back this afternoon.” Washburn moved to the bedside and studied Early carefully. “He said that since the stitches appear to be holding, Miss Early may have a chance of making it. A slight chance. Every hour that passes gives him more hope, though.”
Molly nodded. “I wish her color were better.”
