Renegade Wife

by Charlene Sands

  “Be careful, Kane. Molly is pretty and smart and our friends are taking notice. Treat her right and she’ll give you a house full of children. She’ll make you happy.”

  Kane grimaced. “I was happy enough before you sent for her.”

  Bennett shrugged his shoulder and shook his head. “Just you wait and see.” Then his grandfather took hold of his arm. “I wouldn’t want Molly to dance too much longer with our neighbors. She might tire out tonight.”

  Kane pierced his grandfather with a hard look.

  Bennett grinned and winked. “A young girl’s wedding night should be something special. You’ll see to that, Kane.”

  Kane’s mouth twisted as he stared at Molly again just as she looked up to find his eyes upon her. Their gazes locked for a second and Molly lost her footing. Able-bodied Jess Mathias, her dance partner, grabbed her waist to steady her and Kane’s nerves went raw.

  In truth, he hadn’t enjoyed seeing Molly dancing with other men. He hated to admit it, but watching men hold her and make her smile struck him like a knife to his throat. He hadn’t wanted this protective and possessive feeling to take hold of him, but it had. And now he found the need to see to his wife. He found the need to show the guests that Molly belonged to him.

  Kane strode over to Jess Mathias. “I’d like a word with my wife, if you don’t mind.”

  The Circle B’s ranch foreman nodded sheepishly and excused himself. Kane took Molly’s hand and led her away from the mariachi band and loud music, away from the male guests lined up to dance with his new bride.

  “What is it, Kane?” Molly asked, removing her hand from his hold.

  “My grandfather’s getting suspicious. Stay by my side.”

  Molly’s face flamed. “What do you suggest I do when these nice folks ask me to dance? Especially since my husband hasn’t spent one second by my side.”

  “I don’t dance, Molly.”

  “Don’t or won’t?”

  Kane frowned and refused her an answer. He’d grown up with the Cheyenne and had spent a great amount of time learning their traditional ritual dances. He’d been a part of their culture for so long that still to this day, Kane resented some of the white man’s ways. He wouldn’t dance with Molly, but not because he couldn’t.

  “I like to dance, Kane. Besides, it’s giving me a chance to ask about Charlie. These men work on neighboring ranches. Some of them might have seen or met Charlie in their travels.”

  “Today’s not the day for that. We’ll head out tomorrow and make all the inquiries you’d like. Today is the day to convince my grandfather that this marriage is real.”

  “And how do you suppose we do that?” Her voice rose with indignation just as he caught his grandfather’s sly eyes watching them.

  Kane wrapped his arms around her, bringing her up against him and bent his head. “Like this.”

  Kane claimed her lips in a sweeping long kiss, tasting her sweetness, the mix of Molly and fruit punch a heady elixir for any man, even more so for him. Molly was his wife now. He had every right to kiss her, but he hadn’t expected this surge of hot desire to beseech him.

  And Molly. She too seemed affected, leaning into him, their bodies brushing together with legs and chests meshed. After her initial surprise, a little gasp that Kane had come to know as hers alone, Molly participated fully, responding to his kiss passionately. Kane held her tight, his palms stroking her back, caressing the fine lace of her wedding dress as he deepened the kiss, caught up in a slow burn that scorched his body.

  His lips were hard and demanding, hers soft and supple and so damn willing that Kane had to back away. He broke off the kiss to stare into Molly’s dewy green eyes. She smiled at him with softly bruised lips, her face radiant and glowing.

  “Kane,” she whispered, looking at him as if she truly belonged to him. Looking at him as if he belonged to her.

  The music had stopped and when Kane turned around, all eyes were watching with satisfied expressions, and he realized if any of them had doubts of the validity of this marriage before, those questions had been quelled and banished from their minds now.

  He turned back to Molly and took her hand. “I think that convinced them.”

  Molly put her head down, but not before Kane witnessed the injury he’d caused. It was better this way, he told himself. Better for Molly to understand the reality of their marriage—that there was no reality. Better for her not to get caught up in the fancy wedding gown and lively music and inspired guests. Better for her to remember that they had no future together. Kane would dissolve the marriage as soon as they met the terms of their bargain. But there would be no Omaha Dance, no stick-throwing tribal ceremony to toss a wife away as with the Cheyenne. Kane would have to seek legal means the white man’s way to gain his freedom again.

  “Molly,” he said, relieved that he wasn’t in the Cheyenne world now. Tossing a wife away caused great humiliation and somehow Kane couldn’t imagine hurting Molly in that way.

  When she didn’t respond, he lifted her chin with a finger to gaze into her eyes. He’d half expected her to lash out at him with her wild Irish temper, but all he saw in her eyes was regret.

  She already regretted marrying him.

  The notion stung.

  And Kane regarded that sharp jolt in the pit of his stomach as weakness, something he would deal with later on. He should be glad Molly realized the futility of this union. It would be better to remind her of the main reason she had come to Texas.

  “Tomorrow, we will set out to find Charlie. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Very much.”

  “Then let’s say good night to our guests. It’s time for bed.”

  Chapter Six

  “It’s time for bed,” Molly repeated Kane’s words in her head as she made her way up the stairs behind her new husband. With both fear and great anticipation growing, her belly knotted from all the sensations whirling about.

  Kane’s kisses nearly destroyed her. She could only imagine how his lovemaking might be. Mama had told her of some things to expect on her wedding night before she passed, her mother practical with her advice, but she hadn’t gone into any detail. Oh, how Molly wished she’d asked for details. She wished she knew exactly what to expect.

  And as Molly took each step, glancing up at Kane, she noticed his tall frame, broad shoulders and well-muscled body. She noted his strength and power and recalled the sometimes savage look he’d cast her. She wondered if he’d be kind and gentle with her. She wondered if…

  “Senorita—oh, Dios,” Lupe called up from the base of the stairs, “I mean Senora Jackson?”

  Molly glanced down to find Lupe’s usual smile a bit worried.

  “I will help you make ready, sí?”

  “Oh, um—” Molly hesitated, biting her lip and wondering what she meant by making ready.

  Kane took Molly’s hand and led her up the last step. “No need for that, Lupe. I’ll take care of Molly now.”

  Kane dismissed Lupe as easy as that and suddenly Molly’s heart raced with trepidation. Kane led her into his bedroom and she immediately noted the contrast from her room.

  His room held no warmth, no frilly curtains, no niceties to speak of, and his large four-poster bed—well it certainly could intimidate a lesser woman, made of stark dark wood and covered with vivid woven Indian blankets. Molly gulped and told herself she’d be all right. She told herself that she trusted Kane and knew him to be a man of honor. She plied herself with all good notions, hoping her impulsive fears weren’t apparent on her face. “It’s…it’s nice, Kane.”

  Kane closed the door behind her, which didn’t help her jittery nerves. She heard the door lock catch, and she whirled around. Kane leaned heavily on the door, his arms folded. “Nervous, Molly?”

  “No!” she fibbed, lifting her chin with bravado.

  “There’s no need to be.”

  Molly nodded with her head lifting up and down like a silly girl bobbing for apples. “I
know.”

  Kane’s sigh went deep and his breath whooshed out slowly. He moved away from the door and Molly backed up several steps until her legs hit the edge of his bed. “Oh.”

  Kane stopped his approach and stood rigid, his lips quirking up slightly with just a hint of a smile. “Come here.”

  Molly had never been one to cower or give in to her fears. Her mama had always said she had more bluster than most men she’d known. But Molly wasn’t feeling too daring now. Her heart raced wildly and her very breath stuck in her throat. Yet, she moved forward, meeting Kane’s penetrating gaze. When she finally reached him, she managed a small smile.

  Kane chuckled aloud and Molly’s chest heaved with indignation.

  Had he been silently laughing at her all this time? Did he not understand how awkward this was for her? Did he not realize that a young woman looked upon her wedding night with a full measure of uneasy anticipation and perplexed curiosity?

  “Well?” she said, refraining from tapping her foot like a belabored schoolmarm.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  Molly blinked twice and stared at him, confounded.

  “Unless you want to sleep in your wedding gown?”

  Kane lifted one dark brow and his silver-gray eyes held firm, the blessed amusement from a moment ago gone now.

  Molly whirled around, the swooshing of her dress the only sound in the quiet, dimly lit room.

  With her back to him now, she felt Kane come closer, crushing the lace of her gown against his thighs. Then he parted her hair, his fingers nimble and gentle on her neck as he moved the tresses aside. His soft touch created tingles way down to her toes.

  “You remind me of a little bird I used to watch as a boy,” he whispered. “The small creature had courage, coming right up to us, snatching corn and food scraps from right under our noses.”

  “Do I?” she asked, finding comfort in the notion. She didn’t think Kane meant her injury, but rather paid her a small compliment. All too soon, the ease she experienced disappeared as a button was released, then another and another. Cool air struck her back, and the intimacy of Kane’s actions finally dawned on her. Her husband was undressing her.

  A tremble skittered through her body.

  “Don’t be frightened, Molly,” Kane said as he finished unbuttoning her gown. His breath warmed her back, bared to him now. And when he touched her skin, his palms stroking her and parting the material, Molly’s insides quaked with awareness. She was alert to everything now with vivid clarity, Kane’s hands on her shoulders, his breath caressing her throat, his body pressed against hers. She felt every single sensation, apart from each other, singled out and so clear in her mind.

  And all of her fear vanished. “I’m not frightened anymore, Kane.”

  “That’s good. You’ll find no reason to be.”

  Kane kissed her throat once, a soft sweet kiss that lingered on her skin. Gently, he turned her around and Molly had a dickens of a time, keeping the dress from falling down around her. With a hand, she held tight the material, keeping some semblance of dignity, though there was no hope for her shoulders. The dress had slipped down enough to expose her entire neckline and then some.

  Kane’s silver-gray gaze scorched her, taking a sweeping glance of her body, before looking into her eyes. And just when she thought she’d die from wanting his kiss, he took a step back, then another, leaving her there in the middle of the room, nearly unclothed and alone.

  “I won’t touch you tonight, Molly. Or any other night. You have nothing to fear from me.”

  Molly stood frozen, too stunned to speak. She repeated his words in her head, trying to fully comprehend.

  “I’ll leave you now, to change into whatever it is you wear at night.”

  “Kane?” Molly came out of her stupor long enough to pose a question, but then, words failed her. She couldn’t ask, but perhaps her expression had spoken silently to him after all, because he answered her.

  “It’s for the best, Molly. You’ll be pure when we part. You can sleep in peace.”

  On her wedding night, her husband reminded her of their eventual parting, the fact that they shared no future. The injustice of this whole arrangement struck like a slap to the face. Molly had entered into a false contract first with Bennett and now with Kane. And all she had truly wanted was a real marriage with someone she could hope to love. She wanted a family with her brother by her side. But Molly had been deceived and now, she, too, was a deceiver.

  “And what of your peace, Kane?” Molly blurted, her mouth spurting out the exact sentiment she intended with no pretense.

  Kane swept another glance over her body, the heat of his gaze enough to singe a block of ice. “I know something of sacrifice, Molly. You can’t live as a Cheyenne and not. I will not break my vow.”

  Molly closed her eyes as anger surged forth. She gripped her bodice tight and headed for the door. “Then there’s no call for me to share this room with you. I shall sleep in my own room.”

  She reached for the door just as Kane’s hand came out to stop her. He held her wrist firmly, his face red with tightly controlled anger. “You will sleep in here, with me.”

  Molly struggled with his hold and only when he decided to let go, did she finally pull free.

  “I don’t want to.”

  Kane chuckled, a wry deprecating sound to Molly’s ears. “I don’t want to, either. We made a bargain, Molly. And that old man out there needs to believe that this marriage is real. We’ve gone too far to change our minds now. We will act as a married couple and that means sleeping in this room together.”

  Molly turned to glance at the bed.

  “It’s a big enough bed,” he said. “And don’t forget tomorrow we’ll be sharing a wagon and days alone together. You might as well get used to it.”

  Molly put her head down. Quietly, she admitted, “I wanted a husband, a family.”

  “One day, you’ll have the husband you deserve—and a family. But for now, we have our bargain.”

  Molly nodded, realizing that Kane was right. Maybe someday she would have all that she wanted. But her husband made it painfully clear, he would not be sharing those sentiments. For now, Molly would focus on finding her brother. The idea of being reunited with Charlie renewed her fledging faith. “Yes, we have our bargain,” she agreed.

  “Then, get to bed, Little Bird,” Kane said, soothingly. “We have a big day ahead.”

  Kane woke before dawn, his eyes opening slowly as a songbird just outside the window chirped a morning greeting. But he was met with another greeting as well, one not so welcome as a melodic bird. No, this Little Bird had nestled up against him during the night, or perhaps he had been the one to seek her out in his sleep. Regardless, Kane found himself caught up in a tangle of sheets with Molly pressed to his side, her soft womanly curves and the sweet scent of female creating havoc with his body. His manhood erect, his body tight, Kane released himself from the sheets and moved aside.

  He’d spoken to Molly of sacrifice last night, and his vow to leave her pure and untouched. He fully intended to keep that promise, but he also surmised that waking up next to her pliant, giving body each day would prove a true test to his willpower.

  Molly was all woman, young and petite and perhaps naive of the world, but he couldn’t deny her femininity. He would be a fool to deny the physical attributes the woman held or the pronounced effect her kisses had on him.

  She gave with all she had, and Kane figured that would be the case in everything Molly did. He figured she would never allow only a fraction of herself, so when their lips met, he felt the generous giving she offered and knew instinctively the exact moment when Molly’s innocent body would have been his for the taking.

  “And what of your peace, Kane?” she had asked last night.

  Kane now knew he would find little peace in her bed, waking and sleeping and nestling close with his new bride. Yet what choice did he have? To keep up the ruse of marriage, Kane had to act as
a new groom, if only to keep one old man happy until he passed on.

  Molly turned in her sleep to face him, a restful expression on her face. And even through her chaste white cotton nightgown, Kane found her womanly form enough to cause more havoc to his body. He ached to touch her and weigh the soft-firm breasts in his hands, to mold and caress them and kiss the tips until they grew pebble hard. The Cheyenne taught him that once a man touches a woman’s breasts, he considered her to belong to him. It was not something a woman allowed without the benefit of marriage, for if she did, she would lose her reputation within the tribe.

  Kane had already saved Molly’s reputation. He’d married her but she would never belong to him. He’d known love once and for him, that was enough.

  Molly made a little sound, a sigh of contentment as she sought warmth, wiggling her body closer. Kane backed away from Molly, so much so that he rolled right off the bed.

  “Damn,” he muttered, angry with himself as he thudded onto the floor. But his anger didn’t stem from the clumsy move but rather from the fear he had of his new bride. As an adult, Kane had feared little. Gray Wolf had been a strong warrior and a man revered in the tribe even though he had white man’s blood. Surely, one Little Bird could not cause him this much grief.

  Kane rose from the floor and cast Molly one last glance before donning his clothes and heading outside. He had to ready the wagon for their “honeymoon.”

  Soon they would begin their long journey.

  Together.

  Alone.

  The thought brought him no measure of comfort.

  Morning sun warmed Molly’s cheeks, and she squinted slightly as she looked upon Bennett Jackson. Standing by the barn beside the wagon loaded down with supplies, she hugged the ailing man goodbye and kissed his cheek. “I hope to return soon and God willing, with my brother.”