Twilight in Texas (17 page)

Wolf cleared his throat as he set his mind on losing his accent. If she were to believe he was Benjamin, he had to remember everything. He had to move like an officer, talk like a Yankee, think of nothing but this moment in time. Tonight might be his best performance to date, for this time, he’d be trying to convince someone who knew him as Wolf. Somehow, in this shadowy room, Molly had to see Benjamin and not him. She couldn’t see the actor, the spy. She had to believe she saw only Benjamin.

Molly twisted in sleep, tossing the covers. The medicine was wearing off. It had been almost two hours since the doctor left. Wolf had talked to the rangers downstairs while he’d waited for Charlie. They couldn’t give him any answers about the fire, but they all agreed that Molly might still be in danger.

Once Charlie showed up, Wolf listened to every detail about what had happened from the beggar’s point of view. Wolf couldn’t find the words to thank him, but both knew that the captain would consider himself forever in Charlie’s debt.

The knowledge made Charlie walk a little taller. He was now Wolf’s friend. When Wolf asked about a uniform, he didn’t ask why; after all, it was a favor between friends. While Charlie went to find it, Wolf hauled water to the third floor for a bath and retrieved his saddlebags. Then he told everyone he
would stay with Molly and they could relax for the night.

The others nodded, seeming relieved to turn over the watch. Granny disappeared into her room. The rangers left, and Wolf closed the door to the world as he stepped into Molly’s room.

As she muttered something in her sleep, Wolf buttoned the final button of the uniform and walked toward the bed. He stood at attention and waited. Mentally, he practiced saying her name without drawing out the syllables, as his Southern tones always did.

Finally, Molly’s eyelids fluttered open. She smiled a sleepy, drug-filled grin. “Benjamin,” she said, “I knew you’d come.”

Wolf knelt on one knee. “I’m here, darling. I’m here. I’ll sit beside you all night. You’re not alone any longer.”

“No,” she whispered, more asleep than awake. “Lie beside me. I have so much to tell you. I lost my journals in the fire. I lost all my memories of feeling. You have to lie beside me.”

Wolf wasn’t prepared for her request. He’d thought she’d rest easy just seeing him. “But you’ve been hurt. You’ll sleep better without me so close.”

“Hold me, Benjamin. Hold me all night.”

Wolf froze. This had been a crazy idea. If he hadn’t been the one who thought of it, he’d have beaten up the man who did for even suggesting such a cruel plan. He’d thought to be a vision beside her for the night, not to climb into her bed.

Her hand lifted, and she brushed the smooth surface of his clean-shaven jaw. Slowly, her fingers found his hair and moved gently through the damp strands.

“Do you want more medicine?” he asked, stumbling over his Northern accent.

“No,” she answered, slurring her words a little, almost like a drunk. “I need you to hold me.”

Wolf stood and pulled off his boots and jacket. It was too late to turn back now; he’d already infiltrated too deeply into her dreams. If he refused her request, she might grow upset. The last thing the doctor said to him was to keep her calm.

For a long while, he stood in his white cotton undershirt and trousers, as if climbing into bed with his wife was too difficult a job to tackle without some thought.

Her fingers reached out again, taking his hand, pulling him to her.

Wolf slowly stretched out beside her, careful not to touch her. Awkwardly, he lifted her head and slid his arm beneath. She curled against him without opening her eyes. He moved her bandaged hand atop her gown so that it wouldn’t get crushed between them.

“I’m so sleepy.” Her words brushed against his throat. “I feel like I could sleep for days and days.”

Wolf rolled slightly toward her. “It’s only the powder the doctor gave you. You’ll be fine tomorrow.” He held his free arm in midair, trying to figure out where to put his hand. Finally, he lowered it to her waist.

“I love you, you know,” she whispered. “I think I always have.”

Wolf could hear his heart cracking. Somehow he’d stepped into her dreams. He was seeing her private thoughts. Her dream was of him…had always been of him. And he’d tumbled into the middle of it.

Tenderly, Wolf lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was so light it could have been a prayer. “I love you, Molly,” he mumbled against her lips. He’d thought the words a hundred times in his mind, but he never dared say them aloud. Suddenly, he longed to drop the charade and say them with the accent of his birth. The way his father had said them to his mother. The way his sister whispered them to her husband when she thought no one listened. A low, Southern way that warms the blood, stirs the heart, and echoes of forever.

He felt her body relax beside him and knew she slipped into a deep sleep. He’d accomplished his goal, he’d given her peace.

For a long while, he held her, listening to her breathe, feeling her warm beside him. Then, finally, the hours caught up with him and he slept also. A deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in his life. For all he’d ever dreamed of was in his arms.

Molly drifted between reality and fantasy. All the fears of the night before were held at bay as she felt Benjamin at her side. He was more real than she’d ever dreamed before. She could smell the shaving cream he used and feel the warmth of his chest slowly rising and falling beneath her cheek.

“Benjamin,” she whispered as she spread her hand across his chest. The soft cotton welcomed her touch.

He jerked slightly and caught her fingers in his grasp. “Are you all right?” he asked, sounding sleepy and almost boyish.

“I’m fine.” Pulling her hand from his, she fanned her fingers once more over his broad chest. “I just wanted to feel you.”

She felt the chuckle more than heard it.

“Of course, feel away,” he whispered against her ear.

As her hand moved over him, he remained still. She liked the strong line of his jaw and the surprising softness of his bottom lip. She might have been very proper in her life, but in her dreams she grew bold. Her fingers slid over his clothes, loving the contrast of the cotton of his shirt and the wool of his trousers. When she brushed below the belt, she heard his sudden intake of air.

“Molly.” He sounded out of breath and guarded. “Do you really think…?”

“Would you stop me?” she challenged, opening her eyes to stare at him for the first time. He was in the shadows of early morning, but there was no mistaking her Benjamin. She loved the way his hair curled as it had in the wind of the train station all those years ago. And the power in his jaw that promised stubbornness and strength. “Would you stop me?” she repeated.

“No,” he finally replied, as formally as though at attention even as he lay beside her.

Settling against him, she breathed deeply of the smell of him. In all her dreams, she never remembered the aroma. Soap, shaving cream, starch, all lay above a deep-baked smell that could only be his. A hint of horses, and wind, and sun, and adventure.

Her hand slipped boldly along his trousers to the inside of his thigh. The powerful muscles in his leg tightened.

“Do you mind?” she asked.

He swallowed. “No.”

“I can do whatever I want. After all, it’s my dream.” Molly felt terribly wicked. He seemed so real tonight, she wanted to sink into the senses and not think, but only feel.

Her hand moved up to the buttons of his shirt. Slowly, she began unfastening each as she listened to the rhythm of his pounding heart in her ear and felt his warm breath against her face.

As she slipped her fingers beneath the cotton of his shirt, his hand tightened at her waist, pulling her gown into his fist. She’d seen men take stitches with less reaction.

“Do you wish me to stop, Benjamin?”

“No.” He seemed barely able to get the word out.

“Then relax.” She raised her face and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Relax, I said.” She kissed him again. His lips had never felt so soft, or tasted so sweet.

In fact, until tonight, they’d never tasted at all. Even the memory of how they’d felt faded over time. But not tonight.

Tonight they were as real as Wolf’s lips had been when he’d kissed her farewell a few days ago. Only Wolf’s kiss had been to show the town that they were married. Nothing more, she told herself, nothing more. She would never allow it to be, for Benjamin was in her heart. There was no room for another.

Molly let her lips brush his as her hand moved over the hair and muscle above his heart. His chest hair was soft in contrast to the muscles. She pulled away and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, suddenly in a hurry to drink her fill of the pleasure she’d discovered.

He didn’t move to stop her, but she wasn’t sure if he was breathing.

About the time his hand relaxed once more at her waist, she pulled the shirt fully open.

Molly raised her head and stared at him. His eyes were closed. She wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep or was simply trying to endure extreme torture.

Smiling, she lowered her mouth to his chest. He was so delicious tonight. She had to taste him.

She felt his fist tighten once more at her side, but he didn’t say a word as her tongue brushed his skin.

While she let her hand drift along the soft sprinkling of hair to his waist, she felt his sudden intake of breath and laughed. In all her dreams, he’d never reacted so to her touch, and now the feel of him so aware of her every move thrilled and excited her.

Returning to his mouth, she kissed him deeply. At first, he let her kiss him, exploring at her leisure. Slowly, the kiss shifted, and he took control. The kiss came in waves, first tender, then demanding and more fully than she’d ever known a kiss could be. He filled her very soul with a passion she’d never before experienced.

His hand spread out at her waist and moved in gentle strokes until his fingers brushed against the underside of her breasts and circled low across her abdomen.

She breathed with his kiss as if she had no breath of her own. She relaxed to his touch, welcoming all he wanted to give her. Never in all the years had she dreamed like this. The taste of him was deep in her mouth, the feel of his hand forever branded across her body.

She wanted to touch him more, but all she could do was drift on the sea of pleasure. Finally, when her senses overflowed with sensations, his hand stilled across her abdomen and his kisses softened. She settled against his shoulder, feeling a warmth she’d never known burning deep inside her. Her fingers lazily fanned his chest for one last touch. She listened to the beat of his heart and fell deeper into sleep, knowing she’d return to the dream and he’d be waiting as always.

The last thought that drifted through her mind, too airy to take root, was that he’d whispered, “I love you” against her ear in a low Southern tone.

V
OICES BUZZED AROUND
M
OLLY LIKE FLIES
. B
OTHERING
. Awakening her from a dream where she longed to stay.

“Can you hear me?” someone kept asking.

“Doctor,” another voice whined. “Can’t we wait? Do we have to tell her now? Doesn’t she need to be stronger?”

Molly pulled herself through the fog of her brain and smiled. The night’s sleep and dreams left her refreshed, reborn.

She noticed Granny Gravy and the young doctor named Frank Washburn standing by the window. He picked up medicines for the School for the Blind at her store and also treated Ephraim.

“Good morning.” Molly sat up in bed, feeling the ache in her shoulder with every movement. The pain couldn’t erase the grin that lingered on her lips.

Washburn was at her side. “How are you this morning, Mrs. Hayward?”

“I’m sore but much better.” Her father used to say that she took trouble hard, like her mother, but bounced back ready to fight like him.

“Careful.” The doctor gave her his undivided attention. “Don’t move too fast.” He acted as if she were about to take her first steps.

Molly slipped from the bed and stood slowly. “I’m fine. All I needed was a good night’s sleep. How’s Callie Ann? Is she up yet?”

Granny snorted. “That child’s been up for hours asking about you.” She seemed in a hurry as she fretted with the curtains, yet didn’t leave.

Washburn lifted the packet of powders he’d left by the bed. “How much of this did you take last night?”

“None. Except what you gave me,” Molly answered. “I slept the clock around.” She wanted to add “in the arms of Benjamin” but knew they would think her mad.

Smiling, Granny added, “My husband used to say there ain’t nothing better than a woman who wakes up grinning. He said she’s worth her weight in gold.”

Molly didn’t want to explain how her dreams had helped more than any medicine. She could still feel the heat of the drugstore fire along her arms. Her shoulder and wrist throbbed with a dull pain, but through the night, Benjamin had held her. Somehow that made everything all right.

She almost laughed aloud. Wouldn’t the world be surprised to know that she had a lover as invisible as Callie Ann’s uncle? Only last night, he’d been so real to her that she could almost hear the echo of his heartbeat in her ear and taste his kiss lingering on her lips.