"Where's one of those ribbon things?"
"I didn't bring one," she said sulkily.
"I'll send Ganson to get one."
"No… no… I've got a white one here in the drawer."
"I thought you did," he grinned. "I saw it this morning."
She handed it to him and he slipped it under her hair and across the top of her head.
"Now you look like Molly again." He took her hand and pulled her up from the seat. "You look very, very pretty!" he said, and kissed her on the nose. "Let's go. Dad is waiting for us."
Molly received the same welcome as the first time she came to the apartment. Adam's Aunt Flo met her in the hall as soon as the elevator door opened and came forward with open arms. She embraced her enthusiastically, then held her away and looked at her.
"Such beautiful golden hair, such lovely skin and innocent eyes. Adam, I was afraid I had dreamed her," she exclaimed.
"She's real all right, Aunt Flo." He looked down proudly as his aunt turned her toward the sitting room. He caught Molly's eye and lifted his eyebrows with questionable humor. A feeling of guilt flooded over her. The deceit they were practicing was abhorrent to her. This dear little lady was so ready and willing to accept her. Molly knew she could grow to love her as well as Adam's father.
They entered the sitting room and found the old man in a chair by the fireplace. His eyes were on the door as they came through it, and as they came forward he had eyes only for Molly. To her he looked much the same as he did the last time they were there and she went to him immediately, genuinely glad to see him again. She forgot Adam and the part she was supposed to play. She took his frail hand and bent to kiss his wrinkled cheek.
"Hello, Papa," she said softly. She was surprised at the strength of the hand that held hers.
"Hello, daughter," the weak voice replied. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming back to see me."
"Oh, yes, I was coming," she said archly, "but I had a bout with the flu and didn't want to bring you my bugs."
He chuckled and looked at Adam. "Hello, son." The dimmed eyes which took in the tall, dark-haired figure that bent over him were filled with love and admiration.
"How are you, Dad?" Adam's face held the look Molly had seen before when he greeted his father.
She looked from father to son and felt a warm glow as if she were witness to a rare and wonderful thing. The love and admiration they each had for each other were obvious. There must be some fifty-odd years between their ages, she thought, but there is no generation gap here.
"Sit down, sit down," the old man was saying.
Adam pulled a footstool up close to his father's chair for Molly because the old man had not released her hand. He sat opposite them and stretched out his long legs. Molly flushed when she met his eyes and looked away. She wished he would leave. She sincerely liked his father and didn't want him thinking she was play-acting. He settled himself to stay so she decided she would have to try and forget he was there.
"So you're going to stay two nights." The father was addressing the son.
"We'll be staying tonight and tomorrow night. Tomorrow night I'm taking Molly out on the town."
Oh, no, not that again, she thought. She didn't dare look at him lest he see the fright in her eyes.
"Good, good." Mr. Reneau looked at Molly affectionately. "Adam told me you had cut your hair, daughter. I was a little disappointed until he explained how hard it was to take care of, up there in the woods. Now, I think I like it. You're young and there's plenty of time for you to do it up like an old woman!" This was quite a long speech for the old man.
Molly gave an exasperated sigh. It was irritating to know they had discussed something as personal as her hair. At least Adam hadn't told him she cut it in a fit of temper.
"Thank you for the earrings, Papa," she said. "I would have worn them tonight, but I didn't think diamond earrings were appropriate with a street dress." She smiled at him mischievously.
"Adam's mother was young like you when I gave them to her. She wore them almost every day." His face creased even more in a gentle smile.
Molly talked on and on. The old man hardly took his eyes from her face. She told him about the snow and the fun they had hitching Dog to the sled, about going to check Tim-Two's trap lines, and the moose hunt in another week or so. She explained that they only took one moose a season and that was for the supply of meat. She also told him that she couldn't stand to watch the butchering because if she did, she couldn't eat a bite of the meat. He smiled and nodded his head and told her Adam's mother was like that. She told him about the wolf tracks Adam found down by the lake. Glancing at Adam she saw the amusement in his eyes and she turned her face stubbornly, and refused to look at him. She was sure she heard him chuckle and almost turned to glare at him. Just in time she controlled the desire and went on to tell about the wolverine sign Tim-Two had found, and also how fast their wood supply was going down due to the cold.
Adam sat quietly, never uttering a word. Molly was embarrassed that she had talked so much. He was lazing back in his chair, his eyes between the dark lashes were mere slits, but he had an impish grin on his face.
"Adam," she said, exasperated at his silence. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
"I couldn't get a word in if I wanted to. Your mouth has been going ninety miles an hour." That devilish look was in his eyes again, the one that was always there when he knew he was getting under her skin.
"Don't mind him. You should be used to his teasing way, by now." Mr. Reneau gently shook the hand that was still in his.
"I could… hit him, when he gets in that devilish mood," she said heatedly.
The old man laughed so hard Molly was afraid for him. He laughed until the tears came. She looked at Adam; he was laughing too, so she guessed there was no danger to the old man.
"Good for you," Mr. Reneau said finally. "Why don't you try it sometime?"
"I just might do that!" Molly said with spirit.
"If you're going to be here with my dad, I'll make some phone calls." Adam went to the door still grinning.
"I'll be here," she said, ignoring his retreating back.
There was little sleep for Molly that night. All through the long dark hours she tossed restlessly. In spite of the pleasant afternoon and evening in his father's apartment, Adam's announcement that they were going "out on the town" the next night, filled Molly's heart with dread. What would she wear? She had never been "out on the town," whatever that was. She only knew that she didn't want to go, and desperately wished that she was back home in the bush. This time I'll really make a fool of myself, she thought desperately. The thoughts whirled around in her head, but one stayed with her. She would phone Herb Belsile and ask for money to buy a suitable dress and wrap. She drifted off to sleep with that idea in mind.
When morning came, she waited impatiently until it was time for Herb to be in his office, then waited until she could use the telephone privately. The time came, finally. The housekeeper was in the kitchen and Adam went into his bedroom and closed the door. She hastened to the phone, looked up Herb's number, and dialed.
It was a blessed relief when she heard the familiar voice on the line! He wasted valuable time making pleasantries, and after assuring him she was well, she told him she needed money to buy clothes.
"How much do you need, Molly? You have a balance in your bank in Fairbanks."
"I know, Herb, but that's only a small balance. I'd like to have several months' allowance deposited here in Anchorage that I can use today." She kept her voice low.
"I'll arrange it for you." He told her the bank he would use and advised her to sign the checks with her married name, Molly Reneau. Then he asked if there was anything else she would like to discuss with him.
"No, Herb, I'm doing fine, and I appreciate the money. I won't be needing an allowance, now, for several months." After a few more pleasantries were exchanged, she rang off.
When she turned, Adam was barring h
er way.
She gasped! "I didn't know you were there."
"I'll bet you didn't. What was that all about?"
She took a deep breath and turned her face up to meet his accusing stare.
"I was talking to Herb Belsile."
"I know who you were talking to. I was going to use the phone in the bedroom, and I heard you."
"You listened!" she said accusingly.
"Not on the phone. I came out here and listened."
Pride, and then anger came to her defense. "I was talking to my attorney about money. Is there anything else you'd like to know?" After the sleepless night her nerves were on edge and she wanted to get away from him before' she disgraced herself and cried.
"Why do you need several months' allowance?" he asked bluntly.
"You've no right to know about my financial affairs any more than I have the right to know about yours, Adam Reneau."
"You think not, Molly Reneau?" he said sharply. "You're my wife. You know what that means? It means that I'm responsible for you whether you like it or not."
Her mouth compressed. Before she could give a suitable retort, his voice softened, he let his hands go up and down her arms in a caressing motion, and he continued:
"You're worried about going out tonight and want to buy new clothes."
The amazement showed in her eyes before her glance fell. "Now you know all my little secrets."
He made a kind of growling noise in his throat and tried to pull her toward him, but she resisted. "It isn't so important what you wear, Molly."
"It is to me," she replied.
He pulled her to him and hugged her. "We'll go out and buy you the best-looking outfit in town, if that's what you want."
She pushed herself away from him. "It isn't what I want, Adam! I'll buy my own clothes, thank you."
He gave a sharp exclamation and his black brows drew together. "Not with me, you won't! I'd look like a fool."
"You don't need to go alone." She knew she shouldn't have said it. She saw the determination flash in his eyes and knew her case was lost.
"I'm going! I'm paying! If you're such a square about your husband buying your clothes, you can pay me back."
For a long moment she didn't move. The expression on her features was easy to read; the doubt, indecision, and then resignation as she came to a decision.
"All right, but only if I pay back every cent. I'm not a charity case. My father left me provided for."
She was standing determinedly, trying so hard to be independent. A sudden desire came over Adam to cherish her. He looked at the trembling mouth and wanted to kiss it. Not the brotherly kisses he had been giving it, but the passionate kisses of a man who wants to make love to a woman. He knew he dared not, so he casually said, "You win. We'll do it your way this time." He could see the apprehension on Molly's face and was surprised at himself for trying so desperately to put her at ease.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Molly's apprehension escalated the moment they stepped into the fashionable dress shop where they had come to buy her clothes.
The room they entered was pale green with touches of white. The deep carpet, white sofas, long glass tables, and potted plants gave the impression of an elegant sitting room. A tall, slender, fashionably dressed woman came to meet them.
"Adam!" She gave him an electric smile and held out her hands. "How nice to see you." He took her outstretched hands.
"And nice to see you, Jaclyn." His voice was cool, and he dropped her hands after only a brief contact.
The woman stood there smiling, seemingly unaware of the rebuff, which was apparent to Molly. She sensed, immediately, the aloofness that had come over Adam. She wished desperately he hadn't come with her and fidgeted nervously. She felt gawky and uncomfortable standing beside him looking up at this tall, chic woman.
"This is my wife." Adam turned to her and took her hand.
Jaclyn turned astonished eyes to Molly. "Your wife?"
"You? Married?" There was no mistaking the amusement and disbelief in her voice.
Her eyes swung to Molly and surveyed her with unsmiling curiosity. She took her time assessing her, missing nothing. The scrutiny went on for so long that Molly felt acutely embarrassed. Adam seemed to be amused.
"Well," Jaclyn said at last, "her figure is good, although she's rather short."
Molly's blood was boiling; her anger was directed at Adam as well as the woman. How dare he bring her here to be looked at, judged, and have her imperfections pointed out to him. Her mouth opened, but before she could frame a suitable retort, he squeezed her hand to silence her.
"The reason we're here is to select a wardrobe for my beautiful wife. I don't wish to spoil her natural beauty. I know exactly how she should be dressed—with very little sophistication, do you agree?" His tone was cool and oddly patronizing.
"Of course you're right, Adam. You've always had excellent taste… in clothes," she said grudgingly.
"Take us to one of your rooms and show us evening dresses and wraps."
When they were seated in a small mirrored room and Jaclyn had left them alone, Molly turned on him.
"I don't like any part of this," she fumed. "I'll not be looked over like I was a… horse!"
Adam smiled down into her angry face. The violet eyes sparkled with indignation. He chuckled softly and put his arm around her.
"She's a professional, Molly, that's why we came here. Whether you like her or not she knows clothes and, remember, you're the one that wanted to be suitably dressed."
"I don't care," she sputtered, "I still don't—"
"If you don't shut up, I'm going to kiss you." He tried to appear very stern. Molly got only so far as to open her mouth when his came down on it and stopped the words and all thoughts of words. He kissed her long and hard, not the little kisses he had been giving her, but the same kisses he gave her on that night she almost lost her head. Her heart was beating wildly when he finally raised his head. His eyes had narrowed and his breath was coming a little faster. A wild thought came to Molly. He enjoyed kissing me as much as I enjoyed being kissed!
They both looked up to see the woman, Jaclyn, watching them with a look of annoyance on her face. Molly felt a wave of pure exultation. The woman was jealous! Well, she thought spitefully, that paid her back for the snippy remark about my height.
"If you're ready, Adam," she said, in what Molly believed to be her professional tone, "we'll show you what I think would be suitable for your…"—there was a short, meaningful pause—"… wife."
Models began to appear as if from nowhere in response to the command from Jaclyn. They displayed one gorgeous creation after the other. Molly's head began to swim in her efforts to choose from the collection of clothes that were paraded before her. Without objection she accepted Adam's choice and went with Jaclyn to the fitting rooms.
The dress she, or rather Adam, chose was cut from white velvet. The bodice folded itself lovingly around her young breasts. It as well as the tiny stand-up collar was studded with rhinestones. The skirt fell quite straight and simple to her feet. She loved it and thought it must cost the earth, but three months' allowance should cover the cost of the dress and the long white wool coat. The seamstress took her measurements while she was undressed. The evening dress would be shortened and she assured Molly she would be able to wear it that evening.
The shopping had not been the ordeal Molly feared. Coming back to the small room where Adam was waiting she found him standing with Jaclyn viewing clothing brought in by models, who after holding up the garment for his inspection, would wait until he shook his head either up and down or sideways. Jaclyn was busy with a pad and pencil. The clothing ran from skirts and sweaters to day dresses to slack suits and loungewear.
Desperation made Molly's voice sharper than she intended it to be.
"Adam!" She clutched his sleeve. "Adam, what—"
"Just a minute, darling," he cut her off.
"What…" The agitation in her voice c
aused him to turn and whisper in her ear.
"Shut up, or I'll kiss you again."
"I can't afford this stuff!" she hissed.
Adam turned back to Jaclyn as if she hadn't spoken.
"Deliver these things to my apartment, Jaclyn, and add a supply of underthings." Then to Molly's utter consternation he added, "And see to it there are some negligees and nighties included and… ah… be sure one is black lace."
He squeezed her hand so tightly she thought he would break the bones. She was mortified! She had been stripped naked here in front of this woman as if she were a store window mannequin! All her instincts urged her to tell them both off; instead, she walked sedately beside Adam to the door. There, Jaclyn spoke the only words she had said to her since they had entered her shop.
"I hope you enjoy your new wardrobe… Mrs. Reneau."
Molly's head went up and with it shrewishness she didn't know she possessed.
"It will do… for now, Jaclyn. Thank you for showing us your collection." With all the dignity of a queen she marched ahead of Adam and out the door.
When they reached the street, it was a different matter. In no uncertain terms she let him know that she was not having all those clothes.
"I can't afford them. The dress and wrap will take my allowance for three months!" She ended on a pleading note: "And another thing, that woman didn't believe we were married, She thought you had picked me up and was…"
"Was… what?" he laughed. "She thought you were my mistress! Wouldn't she be surprised if she knew the. truth?"
"You let her think… it," she snapped bitterly.
"I don't care what she thinks, Molly mine." He tucked her hand into his and put both their hands in his coat pocket.
"I'll call Herb and tell him I'll need more money," Molly said dejectedly.
"No, you won't. You can pay me back when the year ends. Now let's hear no more about it." He was walking so fast she was almost trotting to keep up with him.
In the late afternoon Molly lay down on the big wide bed in her room and tried to doze off, but her mind was too active. Her eyes wandered around the room, her room, temporarily. She wondered who had used the room and left the lipstick. She shied away from thoughts of Adam being with a woman. The quiet of the room began to have its effect and her eyes became heavy with sleep. The sleepless night and the shopping tour had taken a toll of the strength she had gained after her bout with the flu. She turned over on her side, tucked her hands under her cheek, and slept.
Marriage to a Stranger Page 11