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The 44-caliber slug killed it instantly. I loaded the carcass on the horse, took the reins and walked the horse back into camp. It served as an attraction to all the young boys following me and peppering me with questions as I dressed out the deer.
—“Are you a pistoleer, mister?”
—“Can I see your guns?”
—“Is that a real Bowie knife?”
They looked in fascination as I prepared the hide for tanning, sheering the hide with the razor-sharp knife crafted long ago by James Black of Washington, Arkansas.
I sent Willi to Herman Kohrs’ wagon with a ham from the freshly killed deer to trade for some milk from their cow so I could marinade the venison. I sent Gretchen with an invitation to Megan and Kate to join us for supper.
They arrived as I was pulling the steaks off the fire, bearing the gift of a large can of peaches. I was pleased to hear both women praising my cooking as we speared out the peaches during dessert. Willi and Gretchen took turns slurping the syrup out of the can.
“Zeb Russell, if you pleasure a woman half as good as you cook, then I’m proposing right now!” Kate declared.
Then she turned to Megan, “Don’t worry, honey, I’m not poaching your man; leastwise, not until you throw him away!”
Kate turned to me with kind tears in her eyes, “Thank you, Zeb for your invitation. You don’t know what it means to a woman with a reputation of being kept… Well, I guess I better be heading back. Mike gets antsy when I’m not making money. God knows what he thinks he’s going to spend it on out here,” she griped.
As I strapped the deer hide to the ribs of the Conestoga wagon’s cover to cure, I watched Megan produce a tortoise shell comb, sit Gretchen in her lap and began brushing her hair. Gretchen snuggled happily in her lap as Megan sang a soft Celtic song. The domesticity struck me as I looked from my vantage point.
Willi was smiling as he re-spliced a rope needed to lash the water barrel securely to the wagon. Gretchen got out of Megan’s lap, took the comb from Megan and began combing and fussing over Megan’s hair as she sat still at the fire with a beatific smile.
I realized I wanted this. I wanted this more than I wanted riches. I wanted the love of a good woman and family. I wanted to enjoy each day in their company. I wanted to hold and kiss this beautiful Irish lass. I wanted to feel and taste her as my hands caressed her. My cock, always hardened at Megan’s appearance, strove to more painful stiffness and I knew my relief would be to sneak in the woods late at night and jerk off as I fantasized about Megan.Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.
I climbed into my bedroll that night and saw that Gretchen was still awake. In the quiet dark, I heard her soft whisper, “Mutter.” It didn’t take much to realize what that translated to in English.
For the next two weeks, we were in a blissful pattern. Megan would appear for breakfast. She would cook while Willi and I attended to the wagons and Gretchen to the oxen. During the evening, she would come back, sometimes with Kate and spend the evening with us. She would leave with a goodnight kiss to Gretchen and Willi. She would drop her face when she saw me staring at her. She knew I wanted a kiss as well. They would watch her depart, as would I. We would all be a little sadder at her being gone.
The next evening, Gretchen sat in Megan’s lap for their now accustomed grooming session. I walked over with the cured deer hide, placed the hide on the ground, and held Gretchen’s feet on it. I then carefully traced her feet with my sharp knife cutting through the hide with ease.
Without permission, I unbuckled Megan’s shoes and pulled them off her feet. The unanticipated treasure of seeing her dainty bare feet wanted me to seize the moment and undress her.
I barely heard her shocked protests and was intent on ignoring them as I fought the temptation to move my hand up her calf, to her thigh, to her… I shook myself to focus to the task at hand and traced her feet on the hide with my knife.
I went to a neutral corner as Megan grumbled while she re-buckled her shoes and went back to attending to Gretchen. As the evening wound to a close, Megan was saying her farewells to the kids. She glared at me as I approached, still unforgiven for my unpermitted touch.
I held out the two pairs of moccasins, one for Gretchen and the other for Megan. Megan’s eyes lit in surprise. Gretchen squealed as she took them from me, put them on and began running around in delight.
Megan walked to my side, my trespass against her forgiven as she watched Gretchen prancing about.
“Zeb, look how happy she is!” Megan’s arm came around my back as she held on to me. She looked up at me and gazed into my eyes. I pulled her into me and her lips parted preemptory.
“She’s welcomed. She’s very welcomed.” I said as I kissed her. The touch and taste of her lips were exactly as I imagined. A taste of heaven.
I moved harder and deeper to her as the flames of my passion ignited. We kissed again and again as she firmly clenched me. When we broke for air, we were surprised by Willi and Gretchen grinning ear to ear. We reluctantly separated and said goodnight to each other.
As Megan left she went to Gretchen and asked for Gretchen’s moccasins. Gretchen complied, even though under protest, and Megan left with them.
I looked at the beaming couple of kids and said good naturedly at them, “Shut up,” as I handed Willi his pair of moccasins. That night in the still darkness, I heard Gretchen whisper, “Vater und Mutter.” That didn’t need translation, either.
Breakfast came and we all waited for Megan. She walked in wearing her moccasins. She held Gretchen’s out to her and the child gasped. Colorful beadwork adorned them in a pattern reminiscent to how Comanche women dressed theirs. Megan’s were done in the same pattern. Megan had spent the entire night preparing Gretchen’s gift.
Gretchen gave a yell that likely woke the entire camp. She scrambled to put them on and then put her foot side by side to Megan’s. She said, “Thank you, Mutter!” and then impulsively kissed her. Megan choked up at hearing Gretchen calling her mother.
Gretchen ran to her oxen and stuck her foot out and pointed at her moccasin. “Look, bastard ochsen!” she demanded. The oxen obediently moved around her and lowered their great heads to admire Gretchen’s footwear.
Megan and I stood watching Gretchen interact with the oxen. They soon walked off following Gretchen, marching them to the creek calling them goddamn fool-beasts.
“She thinks they are her pets!” Megan said in wonder.
“They think they are her pets!” I replied as I watched Megan. “I’m glad you like the moccasins.”
“Yes, they are so comfortable!”
“Maybe you’ll be wearing them when we get to California and I sell my goods and start my store. After that, I intend to see you wearing a band of gold I’ll give you.”
Well there it was. I wasn’t suited for high-falutin honey talk. I fumbled out my proposal out as quick as I could. Then I waited. Each heartbeat was an eternity.
Megan blanched and looked away worried,
“I… I… I have to leave!” she weakly stammered and quickly walked, then broke into a run away from me. That night, Megan didn’t show at my wagon.
I was in a foul mood the next morning. Megan failed to show at breakfast and the kids were tentatively around me. They quickly went to their daily tasks as I put away the camping gear I used to cook a breakfast that tasted like ashes to me.
Herman Kohrs walked up to me. During the past few weeks, I had warmed up to him and others as Megan worked a miracle on me. Now, I sourly waited to see what he had in store for me.
“I have to talk to you, Herr Russell. It is about the wagon of kept women on this wagon train. You know that all are headed west to be married.” He spoke it like a question.
“Yes,” I bitterly answered, “I just had my teeth kicked in last night proposing to one.”
Kohrs winced, “Ja, the beautiful one. Everyone watched the two of you for weeks wondering what would happen once you found out.”
“Find out what, Kohrs!” I sniped at the scared man.
You mean you don’t know? The girl… she is already married!”
The shock stunned me. I staggered back to lean on my wagon for support. My eyes teared up in pain and sorrow.
“She married before setting off on the wagon train. She married a Mormon businessman and is going to Utah to be with her husband. He has two other wives to do all the housework. The girl is supposed to be just his bed partner.”
Kohrs continued to rattle on about the prosperous lecherous sixty-year-old man marrying Megan by proxy while she still lived with her mother in Chicago. The husband deemed that he couldn’t waste the time to go to Illinois, so a ceremony in absentia was performed. Then Megan was ordered to Missouri to join the wagon train to take her to her husband.
To this day, I don’t recall anything about that day’s journey. The fog of shock shut down my system. I remember crawling directly into my bedroll without even preparing supper. Willi and Gretchen looked worried about me. Late that night, I heard a whisper that woke me.
“Zeb?” Megan whispered again standing outside my tent. She had to know I was awake from the break in my breathing pattern. I remained still and silent. A few minutes I heard her sob and walk away. Then I heard Gretchen crying from her bedroll. I stayed awake the rest of the night.
At morning, I resolved to put it behind me, but the listless attitude pervaded in all three of us as we muddled through the day. That evening we had a guest.
“I need to talk to you, Zeb,” said a concerned Kate. We walked to the outskirts of the camp.
“Meagan is heartbroken, she is crying all the time, and she isn’t eating.”
“Not my problem, Kate. You need to talk to her husband.” I lashed out.
“Why, you stupid sonuvabitch!” Kate roared. “That girl loves you! I suspect she fell in love you the first time she saw you. All day long she kept talking about that good-looking man with the two kids.
She never told you why she had to marry. Her father had a partner. When he died, her mother married the partner. Well, stepfather ran the business into the ground and was facing bankruptcy.
Stepfather was friends with a Mormon businessman named Lee Young. He had sent a bunch of letters over the year extolling Megan’s beauty to Mr. Young. When the stepfather got in trouble, Young told him he’d payoff the business debts as a dowry in exchange for Megan. She was pressured to go through that ceremony. She doesn’t love that man! Hell, she never met him!”