Dreamkeepers (37 page)

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Authors: Dorothy Garlock

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BOOK: Dreamkeepers
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The wind had gone down and the reflection of the white snow coming in the windows gave the room a soft glow. There were stirrings now in the other room. Adam had put the big log on the fire, checked the doors, and let Dog out into the cold night. She heard him moving about in his room and then he came through the bathroom and closed the connecting door. She lay tense and waiting.

The moment came! He opened the door to her room so the heat could circulate.

“Adam . . . ?”

“You called me?” He came into the room, his flashlight beaming a path on the floor.

“Yes.” She was trembling with unbelievable tension.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “Something wrong, Molly?”

“Adam . . .” she started again bravely. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. Although we both know this marriage isn’t permanent, it’s a marriage. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be a real one. I’m—I’m willing to be a wife to you, if you want me.” Her voice vibrated with emotion. He turned out the light. “I’ll not hold onto you . . . you’ll always be free to go.” All her barriers were down; her pride was gone.

He saw that she was both desperate and uncertain, and also near tears.

“Are you sure?” he asked hoarsely.

She answered with only the slightest hesitation. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Adam stood, took off his robe, and raised the blankets to slip in beside her. He could see the gleaming whiteness of her shoulders and breasts. He put his arms around her and held her tightly to him, one hand moving down her back, fingers lightly caressing. She went to him willingly and snuggled against him. She was trembling with relief and unbelievable happiness. She heard him catch his breath sharply as her bare breasts came in contact with his chest. Her arms went around him and she nibbled at his neck with her teeth, uncertain of what was expected of her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said in shaking tones.

“What do you want to do, love?” His lips were against her forehead.

“I want to kiss you!”

“Well . . .” he said laughing softly, happily.

“Adam . . . Adam.”

She whispered the words against his mouth. He caressed her with his lips, soothing her body with his hands. A wild, sweet enchantment rippled through her veins as his mouth moved over her cheek, down her throat, and onto her breast. The knowledge that he was not trying to rush her, holding his own passion in check, filled her heart with love for him.

“Molly, sweetheart . . . !” he murmured in her ear.

When it was over, she was filled with indescribable joy and contentment. He stroked her hair and kissed her. With all the honesty of her young heart she reached up to whisper against his cheek: “I love you. Have I made you happy?”

His mouth moved in search of her own. “Very happy!”

She cradled his dark head against her breasts, enjoying this new and wondrous sensation. She felt him in every pore of her body and in every beat of her heart. She was silent for a long while, then whispered in a voice filled with awe.

“I could never imagine how it would be. I’m glad it was you who showed me.”

He propped himself up on one elbow. The pale oval of her face was framed in the golden hair strewn across the pillow.

“There is more, sweetheart, and for you it will only get better.”

The words were said against her mouth as the warm urgency of his lips claimed hers, and he took her again to that heavenly oblivion where she was aware of only his warm body and urgent demands.

“Go to sleep now.” His voice broke into her drowsy conscience. He kissed her shoulder and neck and heard her sigh of contentment. He ran his hand lovingly down the full length of her body and she took it in hers and held it tightly to her breast.

Molly awoke first and lay on her side watching him sleep. The strong, finely chiseled lines and contours of his face were relaxed. His mouth was firm and beautifully molded. How gentle he had been with her! She had never thought that the consummation of marriage could be such a glorious thing. She had been carried away on a passionate tide of love for him, out of her depth and into a new and completely uncharted sea that contained only Adam and the overpowering love she had for him.

Not once, but many times during the night she had confessed her love for him. He seemed to like hearing her say it. He called her “love,” but never one time said he loved her. Not even when he reached out for her the second time, then a third, and made ardent love to her all over again.

The desire to touch him was irresistible to her now, and she pushed her fingers gently through his hair. So thick and soft it was! He stirred and she withdrew her hand and hid it beneath the covers, but it was caught and held tightly. Black eyes, just inches away from her own, were open and laughing into hers.

“What were you thinking, while you were looking at me?”

“You were awake?”

“I was watching you even before you awakened. What were you thinking?”

“I . . . was thinking that you must be hungry!”

He laughed and pressed his body down on hers. “In the position you’re in, you couldn’t have been thinking about food!”

She slid her arms around his neck, her hand coming around to stroke his cheek. “Your face is rough,” she said with uninhibited frankness.

“It usually is the first thing in the morning. You’ll just have to get used to it.” He kissed her soundly before burying his face between her shoulder and neck. She jumped as his teeth nipped her. “Get up and fix my breakfast, woman!”

“In my position you want me to think about food?”

“Well . . . on second thought . . .” his words were shut off as his lips found hers.

Everything was bright and beautiful. It had stopped snowing and the world was crisp and white. The trees hung heavy with new snow and Dog scurried around making tracks as he chased the birds foraging for food. Tim-Two was preparing to reset his trap lines and Dog was excited at the prospect of a trip into the woods. Adam brought a fresh supply of wood into the house from the woodpile. His feet made snowy tracks on the kitchen floor, and he laughed at the scolding Molly gave him.

She was radiant with happiness, her sparkling eyes seeking Adam’s at every opportunity. She was full of contentment, and her voice carried an extra trill when she spoke to Jim on the radio later that morning.

“How about it, Molly girl? How about that, pretty Molly girl? Do you have a copy this morning?” Jim’s voice came in loud and clear.

Molly picked up the microphone. “Of course I have a copy! How are you on this lovely day?”

“Lovely day? It must be about thirty below!” He gave a burr sound.

“I’m baking fresh cookies, Big Bird. Do you have time to drop in?”

“No time for a tea party today unless you need me.”

“I don’t need a thing, Jim,” she said gaily. She looked up to see Adam standing in the doorway, and gave him her brightest smile.

“You’re sure now?” Jim insisted.

“Things are just fine with us, Jim. Tell Evelyn and the boys hello. Adam and I are sorry you can’t stop this trip. Try and make time on your next run.”

“Will do. I’m about out of range, so will clear with you until the next time.” His voice faded as he flew out of range. Molly didn’t answer, she knew her voice wouldn’t reach him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T
HE DAYS THAT
followed were wonderful and the nights more so. Molly was walking on a bright cloud of happiness. She wanted to be with Adam every minute of the day; to see him and touch him. He seemed to feel the same. Whenever she was near, his arms reached out for her, and their smiling eyes would catch and hold. Some days didn’t have enough hours for them to say all they wanted to say to each other. Other days they were content just to be near and to touch. No words were necessary.

Molly never let her mind wander to the months ahead. She looked back once and thought about her father. She hoped he knew how happy she was and wondered if this was, indeed, his plan for her. They never spoke about the forced marriage, or the separation at the end of the year. In the evenings she would curl up in his lap and they would listen to the radio or just stare into the fire, until their desire for one another became so great, Adam would dump her off his lap and growl: “Get to bed, woman!”

They had been living in their new happiness for a week when their name was called on the “personal message” program during the noon broadcast.

“Attention, Adam Reneau,” the announcer said, “you have visitors coming up on the morning train. Suggest you be at the track eleven
A.M.

“That will be Patrick. I didn’t expect him for a while yet.”

Molly tried not to show her disappointment and dampen Adam’s enthusiasm. But somehow she felt the end had come to her dream world. Another person to share her honeymoon? Her year with Adam? A feeling of jealousy toward this unknown Patrick flooded her.

Later that night in bed, after the hunger for each other had been appeased and she lay contentedly in his arms, he asked her if she was sorry that his friend was coming. What could she say? That she was terrified she was going to lose this precious closeness they shared? She couldn’t tell him that, so she lied and said she didn’t mind at all and his friend was welcome.

Adam took the snowmobile and the sled down to the tracks to meet the train. He and Patrick would ride it back. The sled was for the luggage. Before he left the cabin, he locked Molly in his arms and kissed her soundly. She wrapped her arms about his neck, reluctant to let him go.

He nipped her playfully on the chin. “Just a taste of you to take with me!”

Molly watched until he was beyond the big timber and out of sight. It was the end of her time alone with him. Before depression could set in she started preparations for lunch. Work was the therapy she needed. With lunch started she changed from her jeans and shirt to the light green slacks and sweater Adam had bought for her in Anchorage.

She was busy at the range and flushed from the heat of the oven when she heard voices on the porch.
Damn!
she thought. She had wanted to fix her face and hair before meeting Patrick. But when her startled eyes saw who was coming through the door, all thoughts of her appearance left her mind.

Dressed in a black snowmobile suit, her silver hair glistening as she removed the warm headgear, her blue eyes wide and innocent, her pink mouth twisted in a cheerful smile, was her cousin Donna.

“Molly! I’ve accepted your invitation. Mama said you wanted me to come out and since Patrick was coming on the train, I decided to come along with him. Won’t this be fun? The four of us here together!” The voice coming from the beautifully shaped mouth was so friendly!

The silence that followed beat in Molly’s ears while she stared at her cousin as if she had returned from the dead. She tried to ignore her pumping heart and steady her voice.

“Hello, Donna.” Behind Donna was a man whose friendly eyes were staring at her. “You’re Patrick.” Her voice was calm even to her own ears.

“My wife, Molly.” Adam came from behind the stranger.

Molly extended her hand and it was enveloped after he hastily removed his mitten. Patrick had a twinkle in his blue eyes, and a deeply tanned face under a thatch of sandy hair bleached by the Australian sun. He was not as tall or as heavy as Adam. Molly knew she would like him.

“I’m glad to meet you, Patrick.” She wanted to smile at Adam’s friend, but was afraid her face would crack with the effort. Desperately trying to stay calm, she said to Adam, “Did you have room for the luggage?”

His expression was unreadable. “Yes. Pat had to ride the sled, but we made it. I’ll bring it in.”

“I’ll help.” Patrick went out the door behind him.

Molly’s fingers curled into her palms and she turned to face Donna. There was a moment of fierce glaring between them.

“Why have you come?” she asked bluntly.

Donna unzipped her suit. The snow from her boots was melting and making puddles on the floor.

“I think you know.” All the sweetness was gone from her voice.

“I didn’t invite you. I don’t want you here.”

“I know you don’t, but Adam does.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Donna looked disinterested. “Ask him. Ask him when I was in his apartment last.”

“I don’t believe it!” Molly repeated, her cheeks scarlet.

Donna smiled cruelly. “Poor little Molly!” she mocked. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him!”

“I think you’re here to cause trouble!” Molly was shaking now.

“What you think doesn’t interest me in the least, Cousin Molly,” Donna snapped, then quickly turned to smile as Patrick came in the door carrying a large piece of luggage. Adam came in behind him carrying a heavier load.

Molly’s burning cheeks welcomed the icy blast from the open door. Adam looked at her with a slightly puzzled expression on his face, but before he could speak, Donna came quickly forward and grasped his arm.

“Put my things in Molly’s room, Adam. She says she has oodles of closet space.” Her voice carried the purring tone again and her big blue eyes gazed up at him adoringly.

Adam hesitated only a moment before taking the cases to Molly’s room.

Molly stood, uncertain and confused, then went into the kitchen on the pretext of checking the bread baking in the oven. Her mind was whirling. How dare Donna say she had been invited to come here! She had never invited any of Aunt Dora’s family to come visit, much less Donna, whose contempt for her was most obvious of all. She doubted she had exchanged a dozen words with her cousin in the last five years. Donna wanted Adam. She had made that plain enough. A cold, icy dread started forming around Molly’s heart as she remembered the lipstick she found in the bedroom of his apartment.
Had he been meeting Donna while on his trips to the city? Had he asked her to come here?

Donna was entertaining the men with a story about mutual acquaintances in the city. She was cheerful and witty, and Adam seemed to be enjoying her company. She had slipped off the bulky snowmobile suit, looking slim and beautiful leaning against the mantel, her tight-fitting coral knit slacks and sweater a perfect foil for her figure and silver hair.

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