Renegade Wife

by Charlene Sands

  Even though he’d deceived her, she hadn’t a harsh thought for him. Somehow, in just the time she’d known him, Bennett had wedged himself into her heart. Her Irish temper being what it was, Molly didn’t quite understand her full acceptance of the man’s deeds, except to say that after having a dealing or two with Kane herself, she could understand Bennett undertaking the deception. Her newly acquired groom had a strong will and a stubborn streak. In that, she didn’t believe the blood kin differed much. Bennett simply had had more experience in being sly. He was a man who got what he wanted in life.

  But it was knowing the ill man now, seeing the light go out of his eyes at times, noting how his skin paled and his body grew weak that caused Molly a moment of hesitation.

  What if Bennett needed Kane in the weeks to come? What if his health took a rapid decline? Molly bit down on her lip and fretted.

  Bennett glanced at her with a frown. “Molly, did my grandson do something to upset you again? Did you have a bad night of it?”

  Bennett shot a quick look at Kane, who, at the moment, was hitching the horses to the wagon.

  Molly gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh, no. Nothing like that, Bennett… I mean, Grandfather.” Burning heat rushed to her face. “I mean to say, I wasn’t thinking of Kane at all.”

  Bennett shot Kane another glance, narrowing his eyes this time. Kane continued his task, paying his grandfather no mind. “A new bride doesn’t have a thought for her groom? What should I make of that?”

  Perhaps Molly would have had Kane in her thoughts this morning, if she’d had a true wedding night. But she couldn’t admit to Kane’s grandfather that she was untouched and as pure as the day she’d been born. But she could tell Bennett another truth. “I’m worried about you,” Molly admitted. “You look pale today and fatigued.”

  Bennett patted Molly’s hand. “I’ll be just fine, Molly, dear. You just concentrate on your husband from now on. No need to worry over me.”

  Kane came around to stand beside her. “We’ll be back in a few weeks’ time. Toby will oversee the ranch while I’m gone. I trust you’ll keep out of trouble, while we’re away?” Kane asked pointedly.

  “Me?” Bennett appeared surprised. “You have a very colorful imagination, boy.”

  Kane removed his hat and scratched his head, right behind the ear. “Do I? I guess it wasn’t you who sent out letters on my behalf? It wasn’t you who contracted me a wife? It wasn’t you who—”

  “Kane,” Molly interjected, placing her hand on his arm, stopping his quiet tirade. Bennett wasn’t up to doing battle today.

  Kane glanced down at Molly’s hand as anger lit his eyes.

  Molly smiled up at him, hoping to ease some of his frustration. “It’s done.”

  Bennett grinned then and suddenly he appeared twenty years younger and healthy again. “She’s right, boy. What’s done is done. Now, you both have a safe trip and don’t go worrying after me. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Kane stared at his grandfather, but slowly those hard steely eyes softened, and he nodded. “You make sure that you are.”

  There was no denying the love and admiration Kane had for his grandfather even though there was no overt display.

  “And Molly, I’ll send someone to post wires with your brother’s name and description, just like I promised,” Bennett said. “I should have news when you get back home.”

  “Thank you.”

  Molly took one last long look at Bennett before Kane helped her up onto the wagon bench. She smiled and waved, just as Lupe had come outside to stand beside Bennett.

  “Vaya con Dios,” Lupe called out.

  “I’ll see you soon,” she said, waving as the wagon lurched forward, making its way out of the gate and off Jackson property.

  Kane tossed a straw hat her way. “Better put that on. We’ll be on the road most of the day.”

  Molly glanced at the weather-beaten hat and smiled, yanking it on her head and tying the string under her chin. Kane, too, wore a hat, the leather nearly matching the color of his buckskin pants. He appeared part Cheyenne and part rancher, and Molly realized that perhaps the man she married belonged in two worlds, yet really didn’t quite belong to either. “Where’s our first stop?”

  Kane slid her a sideways glance. She could barely see his eyes from underneath the hat he wore so low on his forehead. “Somewhere between here and Odessa. One thing you’ll find, Texas is bigger than you imagined. Most towns are spread out, separated by ranches or nothing but cactus and dust. We won’t make a town today.”

  “We won’t?” Disappointment settled quickly and Molly fought the urge to cry. She’d been so eager to make her inquiries about Charlie, that she hadn’t given thought to the route that they would take. She’d left that up to Kane.

  “No, but tomorrow we’ll hit two or three towns. I plan to make a complete circle around the Bar J. When we return we should have a pretty good idea about your brother. Unless we get lucky and find him straight away.”

  Molly couldn’t help but smile. “I hope we get lucky, Kane.”

  He shook his head. “Then you married the wrong man. My luck ran out years ago.”

  Molly sighed silently, not believing Kane for one minute. Whether he knew it or not, Kane had been lucky. An unscrupulous sheriff had almost unjustly hanged him but as luck would have it, Bennett had rescued him in time. He’d brought Kane back to his childhood home, shown him love and offered him a legacy that many would envy.

  Molly settled her backside onto the seat and decided to make the best of today’s journey. Glancing at Kane’s stony face, she knew she’d not have much conversation today, so she decided to take in the scenery and lose herself in her own thoughts.

  This was just the first of many days to come on the road. With trepidation she surmised that west Texas was as big as it was unsettled. She’d never seen so much flat land in her life. She only hoped that somewhere out there, in a distant town or settlement, she’d find her brother. It was that hope, sent up by way of prayer to the Almighty, that had brought Molly west. She wouldn’t think what she would do if Charlie was not to be found.

  So she closed her eyes against the vile Texas sun and prayed once again.

  Molly stretched, pulling her arms up high, her head falling back and her hair flowing in soft waves down past her shoulders. As she stood by the firelight with dusk settling on the horizon, Kane witnessed a smile of relief cross her features. He figured she’d be sore from a day of travel in the wagon, but if she ached terribly, she hadn’t yet complained.

  Kane admired her gumption—she was a determined woman who knew something of suffering in her young life. But as she stood before him stretching and sighing, all he could see was the soft feminine woman he married, the small fire-haired woman who had come into his life like a wild wind. Watching her twist and sway reminded him of a young bay mare just coming into her own, fully unaware of her graceful innocent beauty.

  Kane glanced at the two blankets he’d laid out, wishing he’d set them farther apart. “Lupe sent along a meal for tonight. Fried chicken and biscuits. And something sweet, too.”

  Molly’s green eyes rounded with delight. She rubbed her stomach and smiled. “I’m just about famished.”

  “Sit down on the blanket. You’ll be filling your belly soon enough.”

  Molly walked over to him. “Let me help.”

  Kane shook his head. “Not tonight. If you’re not sore now, you will be tomorrow. Get some rest, Molly.”

  “But shouldn’t a wife do the cooking?”

  “A wife should obey her husband.” Kane said the words without thought, and then realized he’d said those words a hundred times before to his first wife, his real wife, Little Swan. She’d been as spirited as Molly and he’d had to remind her over and over that her main duty as a wife was to listen to her husband.

  Kane’s gut clenched at the reminder, seeing Little Swan in his mind, bending over him, her body brushing his, her dark oval eyes glea
ming as they lay by the fire in their tipi. “I will obey my husband tonight,” she’d say with a coy smile and Kane’s heart would soar. He would gaze at his wife with love and devotion and promise to protect her with his own life.

  But Kane had failed her. He hadn’t protected her.

  And she’d died as a result.

  He would never forget, or forgive himself.

  “Is that the Cheyenne way?” Molly asked quietly.

  “It’s the way it must be,” he said harshly. “You will obey me, Molly. Or I’ll turn the wagon around and head home right now. There are dangers on the road and dangers in the towns and you must listen to me at all times. I need your promise.”

  Molly stared at him and for one moment, Kane thought that he had rendered her speechless. Her eyes searched his and finally she nodded. “I promise.”

  He nodded back.

  His heart had grown hard and cold over the years. He had no room for Molly and her young innocent ways. Yes, he would protect her with his life, for Kane couldn’t have another woman’s death on his conscience, but he would not open his heart to her. That part of him had been closed off forever.

  He watched as Molly sank down on her blanket. Kane set about heating the meal Lupe had prepared. Tonight they would eat and turn in early.

  And Kane prayed he would not relive the nightmare of finding Little Swan’s body in his dreams tonight.

  Molly tossed her fourth chicken bone on her plate, licking the grease off her fingers. She’d never eaten better chicken. “Lupe sure knows how to fix up a good meal. What did she put on this chicken, anyway?”

  Kane shrugged, sitting on the blanket beside her, finishing off his meal. “Don’t know exactly. But I’d guess she’s got some jalapenos ground in, somewhere. Those chile peppers will cure what ails you.”

  Molly groaned as a quick jolt buckled in her stomach. “Oh,” she said, too embarrassed to admit she’d eaten far too much of the spicy food. Her stomach grumbled and she squirmed on her blanket, clutching the edges with both hands.

  Kane grinned, a rare gesture, one that exposed his perfect mouth and strong teeth. “Lupe’s food will do that to you.” He reached over to pick up her plate. “Give it a minute for your belly to figure it all out.”

  Molly managed a sickly smile. “Coffee might help.”

  Kane nodded. “It’s heating up.”

  Molly lied down on the blanket, holding her stomach, mortified that she’d eaten so heartily in front of her husband. What must he think of her? “I never eat like that.”

  Kane swept a leisurely glance over her body. “I wouldn’t think so, Little Bird.”

  Molly saw no mockery on his face, heard no ridicule in his tone. She assumed he meant if she had taken to eating like that every day, she’d be the size of the Bar J by now. At least his fierce temperament from earlier today, when he’d asked for her promise to obey him, had simmered some. She had so many questions for him, and she’d spent the best part of the day in silence. She didn’t think she could possibly remain quiet the rest of the evening.

  “Kane?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “After your grandfather found you and brought you home, what did he tell you of your mother and father.”

  Kane turned away for a moment, keeping busy with the coffeepot. She watched him pour the hot liquid into two tin mugs. He reached over to hand one to her then sat down on the blanket facing her.

  Molly sat up to receive the mug. “Thank you.”

  Kane sipped his coffee.

  Molly sipped hers. The heat and rich flavor helped ease the grumblings in her stomach as she waited patiently for his answer.

  “My father was asked to meet with the kidnappers outside of town, at an old feed shack miles away with a valise full of money. He never returned home and no one really knew what happened to him. They searched for days, but he was never found. My mother pined away for my father for years, hoping that he would return with her son. And after a time, she took ill. Grandfather thinks he was right in never telling her that months after my father left to meet with the kidnappers, his body was found, murdered. He didn’t think she could take both losses in her frail state—the loss of her only child and the loss of her husband. Grandfather tends to take matters into his own hands. To the world, it’s still a mystery, but Bennett and I know the truth. For years my grandfather sheltered my mother, hoping that one day he would find me and bring some joy back into her life. But my mother had given up on me and had given in to her frailty.”

  “Seems to me, your mother might have been better off if she’d been told the truth. I think I’d want to know the truth.”

  “Grandfather does what he sees fit. At the time, he did what he thought best. He protected my mother from the truth.”

  Molly thought on that for a time, but she didn’t agree with what Bennett had done. Kane’s mother had had a right to know that her husband hadn’t run off with the money as was rumored. She had a right to know that her husband’s body had been found, but that her son’s hadn’t. She might have held on to the hope that somewhere out there her little boy, her son Kane, was still alive. “Sometimes the truth is less painful than the not knowing.”

  Kane sipped from his cup, eyeing her over the rim of his mug. “I guess one could argue that with my grandfather. But there’s no point now. What’s done is done.”

  Molly began, “If Charlie is… I mean to say if we don’t find him and later on…oh, dear, I can’t even think it, much less speak the words.” Molly’s heart clenched, her nerves raw with pain. She couldn’t think of anything bad happening to Charlie. He was all she had left and she loved him dearly.

  “You have my word. I’ll tell you the truth.”

  “Thank you,” she managed, her voice tight. She believed him. For all of Kane’s unpredictable and mulish ways, Molly held firm that she married an honorable man. He would not lie to her. “But I can’t think about that. Charlie’s alive, having himself a grand old time somewhere and when I get a hold of him, he’s gonna get a big piece of my mind, for worrying me so.”

  “He’s a man now, Molly. He doesn’t answer to you.”

  “He’s family, Kane. A young boy who doesn’t even know that his mama is gone.”

  Molly finished her coffee then stood abruptly, nearly losing her balance from the stiffness in her legs. “I need to… I need to have some privacy.”

  Kane glanced around the deserted area surrounding the camp he’d set up. Night had fallen, only the stars above shedding a hint of light outside the fire circle he’d built. He set down his coffee mug and stood. “I’ll take you…for your privacy.”

  Molly shook her head, as her eyes grew wide with Kane’s comment. “I need privacy…from you,” she said, more than slightly dismayed.

  Kane’s face took on a stubborn set, his jaw tightening. “No, you’ll not walk away from camp without me.”

  Molly fumed, her dignity at stake. She didn’t understand Kane’s behavior. Surely, she couldn’t be in any danger, out in the middle of nowhere, with the stars overhead to guide her steps.

  “Fine.” She began walking quickly away, anger simmering on the edge. She didn’t know how on earth she managed to marry such an obstinate mule of a man. And to make matters worse, her body ached as though she’d rolled down a steep cliff. Goodness, every muscle seemed unhappy, crying out with tender pain. But she marched on determined to keep her pride intact.

  “Oh!” Her boot tangled with something and she lost her balance. She tumbled head first, her legs too weak to keep her upright. Molly fell right smack onto the unforgiving ground, her cheek grazing something sharp. She rolled to the side and glanced at the large broken wagon wheel she’d tripped on, as warm blood began to seep from her face. She reached up to touch her cheek. Sticky crimson liquid oozed through her fingers, rolling down onto her chin. The potent, pungent smell of her own blood frightened her.

  In an instant, Kane was by her side, lifting her up, his touch as gentle as a summer breeze. He held
her in his arms carefully, studying her face, then began to carry her back to camp. “I’m bleeding all over you,” she said lamely.

  “You cut your cheek, but it’s just a scrape. You were lucky, Molly McGuire. You might have lost more than a slice of skin off your pretty face.”

  The thought did not soothe her. She realized he was right. She’d fallen face first onto a splintered wagon wheel, and the gash could very well have taken half her face. She shuddered and Kane brought her closer into his arms, as if he had understood her fear. “It’s Molly Jackson,” she said softly.

  Kane’s gaze shifted down to meet her eyes and Molly caught a glimmer of the man beneath the hard exterior. For one instance, she witnessed concern and sympathy and perhaps even compassion in those silver-gray eyes.

  “For now.”

  The moment was lost. Kane had once again reminded her of their temporary marriage. In her heart, she knew he thought her less a wife and more a burden. She would always be Molly McGuire to him.

  When they reached their camp, Kane set Molly down on the blanket, then walked over to the wagon to retrieve some items. When he returned, he knelt down next to her.

  “Does it look terrible?” Molly asked, suddenly fearful that maybe she had done permanent damage to her face.

  “It’ll heal just fine. But you hit your cheek hard. I expect tomorrow you’ll have a dark bruise.”

  He took out a clean bandana, one she’d worn once already around her ripped skirt the day she’d met him, moistened it with water from his canteen, then cautioned her. “Hold still, this might sting.”

  Molly braced herself, but Kane’s touch was gentle as he cleaned up her bloodied face. He dabbed at her cut, the slash as long as her little finger, she calculated. “You have a soft touch, Kane.”

  His eyes met with hers again and lingered a moment. Molly’s breath caught in her throat having Kane so near. She noticed the breadth and length of his dark lashes, the vivid silvery hue of his eyes and the deep, dark intensity of his gaze.