The Barefoot Bride Page 20

  As much as Molly wanted the party to be over and their guests gone, everyone stayed until the last possible moment, squeezing the most fun and joy they could from times spent together that were too few and too far between. It was after dark and Nessie was asleep in her bed before Seth and Molly finally bade the last of their guests farewell.

  “Have you seen Patch or Whit since early this afternoon?” Molly asked as she eased down onto the front-porch step.

  “Ethan had a talk with Patch. She's bedding down at his place tonight. I checked, and Whit is asleep in his bed.”

  Molly heaved a sigh of relief. “At least neither of them ran away.”

  Seth sat down on the lower step, evoking memories of the last time they had been here together. “That's counting small blessings indeed. Besides, if you want my honest opinion, I don't think either one of them wants to run away.”

  “I hope you're right.” She pulled at a stray thread on the sleeve of her cambric dress. “Seth, do you think Pike really shot the Masked Marauder? I mean, if he had, the Marauder would have come to you for help, wouldn't he?”

  “I'll tell you, Molly, even if I'd doctored the Masked Marauder, I wouldn't have said anything today.”

  “Does that mean you did take care of him?”

  Seth smiled. “Anything's possible.”

  Molly's eyes widened. A relieved smile touched the corners of her mouth. There it was—the explanation for where Seth had been last night. He had already as much as told her he knew who the Masked Marauder was. And if the Masked Marauder had been wounded, of course Seth would have had to treat him. And the perfume—why, what more perfect hideout for the Masked Marauder than some Soiled Dove's boudoir?

  If Molly was grasping at straws, well, she had made herself a haystack. She didn't want to believe Seth had lied to her about Dora. It hurt too much. Because she cared too much.

  She took Seth's hand and said, “Come with me.” She grabbed a quilt hanging over the porch railing and tucked it under her arm. She led him away from the house, down toward the pond.

  “Where are we going?” Seth asked.

  “Someplace quiet. Someplace private. Someplace where I can have you all to myself.”

  Molly spread the quilt over the dew-soaked grass beneath a cottonwood. It was dark; the only light came from a quarter moon and the stars.

  “Now,” she said. “Take off all your clothes.”

  “What?”

  “Well have a race to see who can finish first.”

  Seth laughed and tore the buttons off his shirt as he ripped it from his shoulders. All Molly saw was flashes of white as Seth skinned out of his jeans and long Johns.

  “I win,” he said a minute later. “Now I can help you.”

  Molly laughed as he began tugging at petticoat strings that needed to be untied. She was breathless by the time he had unlaced her corset. He simply ripped her chemise down the front and skimmed it down off her arms.

  She backed away from him, laughing as she pulled down her lace-trimmed drawers. When he stopped coming, she pulled them back up again. “Fooled you!”

  A second later she was lying flat on her back on the quilt, and he was lying on top of her. His hand cupped the heart of her, and she could feel the warmth of him through the cotton cloth.

  “Seth. Make love to me.”

  His mouth found hers and teased it open so his tongue could come inside and ravish her. He searched out the beauty mark on her face and kissed her there. Then his kisses went seeking and found places she hadn't known were so sensitive to the touch. A moment later, his hand was inside her lacy cotton drawers, and she moaned as he teased her with his fingertips. But soon the cotton was in his way, and he pulled the lacy garment down and off and tossed it aside.

  “Molly?” Seth pulled her into his arms, and the touch of warm flesh against flesh in the cold night air was exquisite. The hair on his chest was slightly abrasive as he rubbed himself slowly against her. His mouth found the place where her neck joined her shoulders, and he kissed his way up to her ears. His breath was hot and moist, and the sensation sent shivers down her spine.

  Molly wanted to return the pleasure he was giving her, so she let her hands go wandering and found the muscles across his shoulders, the crease of his spine, his taut buttocks, and his long, lean flanks. She listened for the sounds he made—the moans and groans and hissed-in breaths of air—that taught her how to please him. As she slid her fingertips down his side, he gasped and bolted upright.

  “What's wrong?” Molly asked. “What did I do?”

  “I'm a little ticklish,” he said.

  Molly grinned. “That's an awful thing to admit.” She reached up to tickle him on purpose, and this time he grabbed her hand at the same time he gasped.

  Only it wasn't a funny kind of gasp, it was a painful kind of gasp. “Seth?”

  He took her hand and brought it back to his body, then gently ran it across a scab along his ribs. “I had an accident with an ax. I didn't want to worry you. It's just a scratch, but it's still pretty sensitive.”

  “You should have told me. I would have been more careful.” Then Molly grinned impishly. “I guess I'll just have to find some less-sensitive spot to handle.” Whereupon she reached over and cupped him in her hands.

  Seth groaned. But there was no mistaking this as anything but a sound of pleasure. He didn't move, just let her touch him however she wanted. And Molly tried everything to see what made him moan the loudest.

  Seth didn't last long before she was flat on her back, and he was deep inside her.

  “Love me, Seth,” she whispered. Her body arched into his, seeking fulfillment.

  His body thrust into hers, seeking the same.

  And in the darkness, under the wide Montana skies, they found the peace and contentment each had been seeking.

  Afterward, Seth pulled Molly into his arms and levered a leg over her to keep her close. They were quiet for a long while, listening to the katydids and frogs. “I guess I should have listened when you said Patch needs to go away to school to become a lady. I thought— I hoped she could do all her changing right here. I can see maybe it might not be a bad idea after all to send her away.”

  Seth laid his head against Molly's breast, and she smoothed his hair with her hands. “It doesn't have to be right away,” she said. “And it doesn't have to be for long. Don't worry, Seth.” She kissed the top of his head. “Everything will turn out fine.”

  “Tomorrow—”

  “I don't want to think about tomorrow,” Molly said, kissing Seth's eyes closed. “I want to enjoy tonight.”

  It was nearly dawn before they crept back into the house, wrapped together in the quilt and giggling like children.

  It had been nearly three weeks since the christening party, during which time Seth had gone into town twice to treat Mrs. Gulliver. Both times, he had come home very late. Both times, he had made love to Molly after he slipped into bed. He had never again smelled of a tart's perfume. But Molly couldn't help wondering why he was gone so long, and where he went when he wasn't with Mrs. Gulliver. She might have ignored her nagging unease except for one thing: Molly was fairly certain she was pregnant.

  The signs were there: tenderness in her breasts, a slight dizziness if she stood too fast, fatigue, and most telling of all, she had missed her monthly course. She wasn't sure how she felt about having another child. The thought of having a baby—Seth's baby—was wonderful. But were they—all of them— ready for another addition to the family?

  Patch and Whit were speaking again, although snarling would be more descriptive of their communication. Patch seemed to tolerate having Nessie in her room well enough. But every night at supper, Molly waited for an eruption of the tempers that never seemed far beneath the surface.

  That was why she had so much looked forward to the trip she was making this afternoon to visit Iris Marsh. She wanted to talk to the other woman and get some advice. When she had thought she might be pregnant, she had talked S
eth into teaching her how to drive the buggy. Now she was glad she had.

  Seth didn't want to let her go on her own. “You might get lost. Or lose a wheel. The horse might bolt. There are always Indians around. Or—”

  Molly had interrupted, “I'll be fine. The trail you use to reach the Marsh place is easy to follow. And the distance is short enough that if I lose a wheel, I can walk home or to the Marshes’ whichever is closer. You taught me to drive, so you know I can handle the rig under any circumstances. And you must admit the likelihood of anything else”—she specifically did not mention an Indian attack— “happening is slim.”

  It was slim, but it was there. When Seth frowned, Molly put her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth. “You have work to do here. I'll be fine.”

  Reluctantly, he had agreed.

  Whit and Patch decided to stay home to help Seth and Ethan with gentling a couple of wild horses that were scheduled to be delivered to the army later in the summer. Molly settled Nessie beside her on the front seat and waved at them all as she cheerfully drove away.

  Molly felt pretty proud of herself when she pulled the buggy up in front of Iris's sod house. Iris was outside leaning over an elevated tin tub, scrubbing clothes on a washboard. Her oldest daughter was working a wringer and hanging the clothes on a line that had been strung between two trees. The pig-tailed girl, Amaryllis, was sitting at her mother's feet playing with several calico kittens. The older baby, Daisy, had inched her way to the edge of a blanket and was eating a handful of grass. Molly's godchild, Lily, lay in a wooden cradle placed in the shade of the hill. Molly assumed the twin boys were with their father working in the fields.

  “Why, what a surprise!” Iris said, wiping her hands dry on her apron as she approached the buggy. “Step down and come inside for something cool to drink.”

  As soon as Nessie was out of the buggy, she raced over to play with the kittens.

  “Rose,” Iris called to her oldest daughter, “keep an eye on things out here while I go sit and visit with Mrs. Kendrick.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Molly made a detour to admire Lily before she followed Iris into the sod house. The coolness of the earthen room was a relief after the heat of the afternoon sun. It took Molly a second to get her bearings in the dimness before she settled into a chair Iris held for her at the table. Iris poured them each a glass of sun-brewed tea and sat down across from Molly.

  “Now, what brings you visiting in the middle of the week?” she asked.

  “Do I have to have a reason for coming?”

  “Most people do.”

  Molly smiled. “You're right. I wanted some advice.”

  “Ain't much I know about you don't know better yourself,” Iris said. “But fire away.”

  “It's about Seth.”

  Iris smiled. “Guessed as much. There's more to that man than meets the eye.”

  “Do you think he would keep a mistress in town?” Molly blurted.

  Iris was silent for a moment before she asked, “What makes you think such a thing?”

  Molly explained that Seth had gone to town to check on Mrs. Gulliver, but that Mrs. Biddle had said he didn't stay there very long. “But he's usually gone from home the better part of the evening,” she finished.

  “And you think he's seeing another woman?”

  Molly nodded. “Dora Deveraux.”

  “Tell me, when he comes home these nights he's gone, does he make love to you?”

  Molly flushed. “Yes.”

  “Does he take his time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I don't reckon it's another woman. Which leaves you looking for another reason why he stays in town,” Iris said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Any thoughts?”

  “He might be meeting the Masked Marauder.”

  Iris's eyes widened. “Does he know who it is?”

  Molly leaned forward eagerly. “From things he's said to me, I think so. I just wish I knew for sure one way or the other what he's doing in town. Because … because I think I'm pregnant.”

  “Lordy, lordy, girl. That's great news!”

  “I don't know,” Molly said with a worried frown. “Patch and Whit are having enough trouble accepting things the way they are.”

  Iris took a swallow of tea to give herself time to think. “I see what you mean. But maybe a new baby is exactly what your family needs.”

  “It is?”

  “How can they not love the baby? It'll be Patch's kin through Seth, and Whit's kin through you.”

  Molly smiled. “I knew there was a reason I came to see you, Iris. You talk such good sense.”

  “Glad you think so, Molly. You'd better get going so you're home in time to make supper for that man of yours.”

  Molly hadn't gone very far when she got the idea to go to town before she drove back to the ranch. The more she thought about it, the better she liked it. She could buy some material to make Patch a new dress and pick up a pair of trousers for Whit. And she would buy something special for Seth, a present to give him when she told him about the baby. At the crossroads, instead of continuing east toward the ranch, she turned north toward Fort Benton.

  Pike Hardesty could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Doc Kendrick's wife come driving into town perched up on top of that buggy seat. He looked for the doc on horseback following her, but unbelievable as it seemed, she was alone. Well, well, maybe he was going to get a chance to get back at Doc Kendrick sooner than he'd thought.

  Molly found everything she wanted at I. G. Baker and was feeling quite pleased with herself when she walked out of the store, loaded down with packages. She was conscious of someone following too close behind her and looked over her shoulder to see who it was.

  Pike lifted his hat and said, “Afternoon, purty lady. Let me help you with those packages.”

  Before Molly could protest, he had taken the parcels out of her hands. There was nothing she could do without making a scene. She took Nessie's hand and, with her back stiff, and chin high, began walking toward where she'd left the buggy.

  Pike walked beside her. “Been wondering when you'd come to town, purty lady. Guess that yellow-bellied husband of yours was scared to show his face.”

  “My husband seemed to come away well enough from his last encounter with you/’ Molly said. She had arrived at the buggy. “I'll take those packages now.”

  Pike dumped them in the buggy.

  Molly lifted Nessie up into the front seat, but when she tried to join her daughter, Pike stepped in front of her, barring the way.

  “Seems kinda strange you defending the doc after what he done to you.”

  “And what is that?” Molly asked.

  “Caught him myself in Dora Deveraux's bed, not more'n two weeks after you was married,” Pike said.

  Molly's face blanched. “You're lying.”

  “Come along and ask Dora yourself if you don't believe me.”

  Pike had hold of Molly's arm and wouldn't let go. He started dragging her away from the buggy toward the Medicine Bow Saloon, halfway down the street.

  “Wait here for me, Nessie,” Molly called over her shoulder. “I'll be right back.”

  Molly looked around at the townspeople they passed, for someone she knew, someone who would help her. But when Pike glared at them, they all looked down at the ground. Molly wasn't sure what Pike had in mind for her, but the thought of going upstairs in the Medicine Bow Saloon with him sent her heart into her throat.

  She wasn't without hope. She was sure that if Red Dupree saw her come into the saloon with Pike, he would intercede. Only Pike didn't go in the front door. When they reached the shadowed alley alongside Bas-sett's saloon, he headed through it to the back of the building.

  It was then that Molly realized that if she was going to escape, she had to do it on her own. Just as they reached a set of back stairs to the second floor, she stomped on Pike's foot and yanked hard to free her arm. He was so surprised at her attack that he let her go and grab
bed his foot.

  When Pike saw her start to run toward the street, he came after her. Molly had nearly reached sunlight when she was caught from behind. Pike grabbed her by the shoulder and swung her around so she slammed against the wood-slatted building. His fisted hand swung around and hit her hard in the chin. Everything went black as Molly slid down the side of the building onto the ground.

  When she came to, Molly was terrified, because she was in a strange bed. A quick look at her surroundings left her confused. The entire room was littered with dolls. A cherubic doll with a ceramic face lay on the pillow next to her. Molly sat up and put a hand to her sore jaw, working it carefully until she was sure nothing was broken. She heard voices arguing outside the room—a man and a woman—and looked around for a weapon. She opened a drawer in a bedside table and found a small gun. At first she was afraid to touch it, but as the voices got louder and angrier, she took it out and held it in her hand.

  When the door opened, the derringer was pointed at Dora Deveraux.

  “It's not loaded/’ Dora said. She walked over to Molly and took the gun out of her hand. Then, to Molly's chagrin, she unloaded the bullets into her palm and dropped both gun and ammunition onto the bedside table.

  Molly stared wide-eyed at the woman, wondering what her part was in this kidnapping.

  “I sent Red out to keep an eye on your kid,” Dora said. “You wanta tell me what you're doing in town without Seth?”

  “I came to get some material for a dress,” Molly said, “and to get a present for Seth. I wanted to surprise him.”

  Dora put a hand on Molly's chin and turned her bruised face to the light. “He's gonna be surprised, all right.”

  “Were you arguing with Pike Hardesty?” Molly asked.

  Dora clucked her tongue in disgust. “Stupid fool. If any of those men down there knew he'd hit you, they'd lynch him to the nearest tree. Don't know that Seth won't kill him anyway when he sees what Pike did to your face. I told Pike he oughta get out of town for a while. He didn't like gettin’ advice from a woman. But at least he wasn't dumb enough not to take it.”

  Molly very much feared it was Seth who would be killed in any encounter between the two men. Pike had already shot at Seth once. The next time, he might not miss. She would just have to come up with some story about what had caused her bruise that didn't involve Pike Hardesty.