Authors: Lindsay McKenna
The dinner could wait. Cam kissed her cheek, her lips, and then her cheek again. “You never have to ask, Molly. You and I,” he whispered, lifting her off the couch and into his arms, “are equals.”
As Cam carried her toward the bedroom, Molly sighed. Darkness had fallen throughout the cabin. The night surrounded them. The flames in the fireplace created yellow, orange and red tongues of dancing light. Cam’s arms felt strong and protective around Molly, and she rested her head against his neck and shoulder, content as never before. A fire more hungry and powerful than she’d ever known, burned deep within her.
Cam lowered her onto the thick goose-down comforter that lay across the brass bed, firelight from the living room flickering through the darkness, then lay down beside her. Molly reached up, beginning to unbutton his shirt. There was such adoration and need for her in his eyes that her fingers trembled with anticipation.
“I’ve never wanted anything more than I have you,” she admitted. Cam’s smile was very male and very sensual.
“You’re my life, angel….”
* * *
Molly lay within the embrace of Cam’s arms. They sat on the sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace, sipping hot mulled wine spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg. It was near midnight, and she was pleasantly tired. She wore a floor-length pale pink flannel gown, its neck and cuffs interlaced with ivory-colored satin ribbon. Cam sat behind her in a dark blue terry-cloth robe.
“This is heaven,” Molly admitted, her eyes half-closed as she languished in the haven of his arms.
Leaning down, Cam kissed her mussed hair. “No. You are.”
She smiled softly, her fingers around the ceramic mug, the tangy scent of the wine surrounding them. Outside, huge snowflakes fell lazily against the window. “Everything’s perfect, darling.”
Cam nodded, resting his jaw against her hair. Just holding her sweet, giving form made him acutely aware of how precious life was.
“What would you think about moving into my house with Miracle and me?” he asked her.
“I’d like that.”
Cam roused himself and fitted Molly against his left shoulder so he could gaze down into her serene features. “First, you’d have to agree to marry me, though.”
Molly sat up and put her mug to one side. “Are you serious?”
“I guess I’m kind of old-fashioned,” Cam admitted, a slow smile stealing across his mouth. “The lady that shares my bed, my home, should be my wife. What do you think?”
Molly gasped, clasping her hands against her breast. “Cam…I just didn’t expect this…. I mean, this soon…maybe never!”
He absorbed her childlike response and reveled in the happiness he saw in her eyes. Reaching into the pocket of his robe, he drew out a jeweler’s box and opened it. “Here, this is for you, angel.”
Molly held the red satin box in her hands, staring down at the sparkling row of diamonds set in a channel design so the facets wouldn’t catch on anything. “Ohhhh, Cam…”
“Do you like it? It’s a wedding ring. In our business, jewelry isn’t encouraged. But with the diamonds flush with the surface of the ring, it will—”
With a cry, Molly threw her arms around Cam. “I love it! I love you!” she sobbed. “It’s beautiful, so beautiful!”
Laughing, Cam was thrown off balance as she flung her arms about him. Taking her weight, he slowly eased her down on top of him. “I love you, Molly Rutledge,” he whispered fiercely. “Will you marry me?”
Molly felt hot tears and blinked them away. His laughter-filled eyes were tender with love for her alone. “How could I not marry you?”
“Got me. I’m a pretty good catch when I think about it,” he teased. “I pick up my socks and put them in the clothes hamper. I’m responsible for doing dishes and stuff like that. I’m prettily easily trained.”
With a laugh, Molly hugged Cam fiercely. “I love you. And more than anything, I want to be Mrs. Molly Rutledge Sinclair.”
“You got a deal, honey,” Cam said, and swept her into his arms, sealing their love with a hot, melting kiss that made the smoldering flames in the fireplace pale by comparison.
Breathless afterward, Molly suddenly became still. “What about my family, Cam?”
He sighed and kept her next to him, his arm a pillow for her head. “We were going to see them anyway. We’ll break the news to them then. Okay?”
Chewing on her lower lip, Molly nodded. “What if Father doesn’t want to see us?”
Grazing her flushed cheek with one finger, Cam replied, “I think he will, angel. Let’s take it one step at a time. We’ve got a week here at the cabin alone. We’ll fly into New York City and confront him after that.”
* * *
Scott gave a cry of welcome when they came through the front door. Forgetting her fear and anxiety, Molly stepped around the butler and ran down the hall toward her brother. How much Scott had changed! Molly thought as she leaned over, embracing him. His hair was longer and he was growing a beard. A beard!
“It’s so good to see you,” Scott quavered, gripping her arms. “I’ve really missed you, Sis.”
Molly sniffed and touched Scott’s bearded cheek. “I love you so much, Scott. The last few months have been awful. Look at you!”
He grinned, leaning around Molly to see a man approaching in civilian clothes. “Wait till I tell you all that’s happened. Who’s this?”
Molly placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder and turned. “This is my fiancé. Cam, I’d like you to meet my brother, Scott.”
“Fiancé?” Scott crowed, thrusting out his hand. “Hey, nice to meet you, Cam. Are you the captain Father was talking about in such derogatory terms a few months ago?”
Cam smiled and shook Scott’s long, thin hand. How much he looked like Molly. Both children obviously took after their deceased mother. “One and the same, Scott. Glad to finally meet you. Molly’s told me a lot about you over the past six months. Looks like you’re going hippie on us,” he teased.
Molly stood aside, a fierce love for both men in her heart. Scott looked so much stronger and seemed to have some of his old confidence back. She was astounded by the change in him.
Scott ruefully touched his beard. “Yeah, I guess to a military man, anyone with a beard looks like a hippie.”
“I like your beard,” Molly remarked, looking down the hall. Was her father home? They’d called ahead to announce when they would arrive.
Scott gripped her hand. “Let me tell you the best news. I’ve got a job at a newspaper. I’m learning to be a reporter. It’s a small newspaper, but at least I’m earning a paycheck.”
“Wonderful! Why didn’t you tell me about this venture?”
Flushing, Scott hung his head. “I was afraid of failing, Sis. I didn’t want to get your hopes up and then screw it up.”
Molly exchanged glances with Cam. The familiar failure theme that her father had hung over her head was also branded on Scott. She leaned down, catching his gaze. “I’m so proud of you. You did this on your own, didn’t you?”
“Yeah…kind of. After Father disowned you and ordered me not to call you anymore, it turned my world upside down, Molly.” Scott’s eyes grew sad. “I began to realize what I’d done. I was living my life through you. I had no identity of my own. That first month was a living hell for me, Sis. Father was in a constant state of anger and I withdrew. Well, actually, I got out more on my own. I found a newspaper that hired handicapped people. My strong point has always been English, so I started as a proofreader for the paper. A month ago, the editor made me a junior reporter because of my writing skills.”
“Something good did come out of all of this, then,” Molly quavered. She felt Cam’s hand come to rest on her shoulder. “I’m glad for you, Scott. So glad.”
He smiled up at his sister. “The best is yet to come—I’ve just rented a small apartment in Greenwich Village and I’ll be moving in there next week. I’m really on my own now, and it feels good, Molly. Really good.”
Her pride in Scott’s turnaround made it worth coming home, Molly thought. She felt Cam’s arm go around her, and she leaned against him, grateful for his support. It was as if he understood how emotionally chaotic she felt at this moment.
“Is Father home?” she choked out.
Scott nodded. “Yeah, he’s in his study, but he’s not in a very good mood, Sis. Actually—” Scott laughed weakly “—Father’s been in a foul humor since he disowned you.”
“Let’s go see him,” Cam urged gently, realizing Molly needed to get the confrontation over with as soon as possible. She’d been a mass of nerves in anticipation of seeing her father as the days at the cabin drew to a close. Cam had no desire to see her tortured any longer than necessary.
Scott turned around in his wheelchair. “Look, Sis, even if Father is stupid enough to have disowned you, I haven’t.”
She leaned down, kissing Scott’s cheek. “I love you so much for saying that. Thank you.”
“When’s the big day? The wedding?”
“March twenty-first, on the spring solstice. I wanted it then because spring symbolizes new starts, seeds and growth. You’ll come, won’t you?”
“I’ll be there with bells on, Sis.”
Her courage soared with Scott’s support. Patting his shoulder, Molly whispered, “Cam and I have to see Father.”
“Go get ’em, tiger.”
As Molly walked down the foyer toward the den at the other end, she was struck by the fact that there were no Christmas decorations up as was usual for this time of year. In the past, Molly had always come home for this special holiday. Peeking into the living room, she saw no tree or gifts. Cam’s arm around her waist stabilized her anxiety as they approached the study.
Molly had always disliked the den because of its dark walnut-paneled walls. The huge room seemed gloomy and depressing, with its sparse light provided by a green lamp on the maple desk. The pungent smell of leather-bound books struck her nostrils as they approached the open door.
Halting at the entrance, Molly saw her father seated in a wing chair, legs crossed, book in hand. As usual, he wore an impeccably tailored suit. She suddenly wished she’d worn her uniform, but shook off the regret. Her cotton denim dress of pale pink with floral embroidery along its front placket and collar gave her a feminine appearance—certainly not a military look.
“Father?” Her voice quavered, and Molly cringed inwardly, knowing he’d take it as a sign of weakness. She and Cam halted at the desk, which separated them from the wing chair where he sat.
Jason looked up from his book. “Why is he here, Molly?”
She tensed at the sharpness in her father’s voice. Alarmed at how gray and tired he looked, she cleared her throat and said, “Father, Cam’s here because he’s my fiancé. He asked me to marry him a week ago, and I’ve agreed. We plan to wed next March.” She gave a little shrug. “We’re both here because we want to be. It’s been such a long time since I heard from you…and you weren’t there when I graduated….”
Jason scowled and looked down at the book. “You made it perfectly clear that you no longer wanted me in your life, Molly. That’s why I didn’t attend your graduation.”
Her heart hurt. Molly glanced at Cam, whose face was grim. She realized how much he was struggling to remain silent. This was her battle, not his. “I’m not going to throw blame, Father. I can only speak for my feelings…for me. I didn’t disown
you.
I’ve always loved you and I wanted you at my graduation. Did you know I was second in the class, with an eighty-eight percent?”
Jason shook his head and refused to look up from the book that remained open in his hands. It was a volume of Tolstoy. “At least you didn’t fail again.”
Cam took a step forward, his fists clenched, but stopped when he saw Molly’s desperate, pleading look. Damn the man! He was playing on Molly’s olive branch and attacking her again, too. The callous bastard.
Gripping Cam’s arm momentarily, Molly shook her head. She refocused her attention on her father. “I want us to be a family again, Father. But not at a cost to me.”
His head snapping up, Jason looked at her steadily. “What are you talking about, Molly?”
“Father, you’re going to have to accept me as I am, not as what you wish me to be or need me to be. These past six months I’ve gotten in touch with who I really am.” She managed a slight smile. “How can I apologize for that? I know I haven’t met your expectations, but can’t you love me anyway? Before Mom died, I remember how you used to hug and kiss Scott and me. After she died, you retreated. I felt so alone and deserted. I still do. With Cam and I getting married, we want to have a family. I’d like to share our children with you, with Scott. I want our children to have a grandfather and an uncle. Don’t you?”
Rutledge slammed the book shut and rose. He glared over at Cam and then at her. “Now you’re blaming me for everything! Well, let me tell you something, young lady. When your mother died, I died! No, I didn’t feel like loving you or Scott after her death. How could I?” he demanded hoarsely, striking his chest. “I loved her! And she was gone. Gone! She was my life! But you don’t understand that, do you, Molly? You’re so wrapped up in your own selfish needs, you never saw what I went through after her death, dammit!”
“Rutledge,” Cam snarled, coming around the desk and halting a foot away from him, “you’re way out of line.”
“Like hell I am! Now, you get out of here! It’s your fault Molly’s the way she’s become! The first time I saw you, I knew you were after her.”
Nostrils flaring, Cam jabbed his finger into Rutledge’s chest. “Shut up, Rutledge. Shut up and listen to me,” he rasped savagely in his face. “Don’t stand there whining about what it’s like to lose someone you love. I lost my wife, who I loved with my life, in an airline crash. Not only that, I lost my five-year-old son on that same flight. Don’t stand there playing ‘Poor me!’ with Molly when I
know
what it’s like to lose. Sure, you hurt after your wife died. So did I! I was married to Jeanne for seven of the most wonderful years of my life. It hurt like hell when she and my son were torn from me.
“Don’t make Molly feel guilty for saying she needed your love, your touch, after your wife died. She was only ten years old, for God’s sake! She lost her mother, in case you forgot. I know how easy it is to crawl inside a hole and shut the world away when you’re in pain. But unlike you, I didn’t feel sorry for myself, and I sure as hell didn’t blame others for my misfortune, my loss. You aren’t going to make Molly take the responsibility for this one. Quit feeling sorry for yourself!”