by Lee Savino
They rode hard for a while, grunting and sweating in the sun. Once they’d put a few miles between them and the homestead, they seemed to relax, and slowed their horses.
“That went easier than expected,” one said. “Doyle will be pleased.”
“You see his face when she said those things to him?” One man guffawed.
“Rosie May knows her place, don’t ya, girlie? Pretty boy and house like that, not for the likes of you. That’ll teach ya not to get above yourself.”
He tore the front of her dress and slipped his hand down the front of her corset, roughly grabbing her breast. It hurt, but she did not cry out.
“Aww, Rusty, quit handling the goods.”
“Doyle won’t begrudge me a treat,” the man grunted, groping his redheaded prize.
“You gonna hog her all the way there?”
Rose felt the man shifting behind her, trying to rub against her fleshy bottom. This was to be her life now. Letting men use her body to find pleasure, her own taste of the good life a distant memory.
One man rode closer to his friend, watching the lustful proceedings. “Pull her top down, let me see.”
“Wait your turn,” the other started to say, when the third gave a shout.
“Ho! We have a follower.”
The three men turned, the one behind Rose fumbling with his cock and breeches. She didn’t bother looking back. No one was coming to her rescue. Not this time.
“Man on a white horse,” one reported.
“You don’t think...”
“Can’t be.” But the three men whipped their horses faster, all the same. Rose was flattened forward, body almost crushed against the horse while the man behind her kicked their mount.
The minutes passed, men and horses’ labored breathing the only sound.
“He’s getting closer,” one man said.
“Dammit! If I wanted, I could look back. Swing wide, both of you, and stop him.”
Their escort peeled off and the man gripped her neck again. “Better not be your boy, Rosie May, or we’ll kill him, and leave his body for the buzzards.”
It’s not, she almost said out loud. She’d rejected him, after all. Why would he come for her?
But the sight of red wildflowers spreading over the plains caught her eye. Their sweet scent rose up as the horse crushed them, bringing memories of Lyle’s promises.
I found beauty, and I’m not giving it up.
She sat up straight in the saddle, shaking off the man’s hand, and looked back.
A horse and rider thundered over the plain, the stallion pure white. The man’s dark form rose about the horse’s heaving flanks.
Lyle. Her hero.
The two thugs advanced and he kept coming, riding straight as an arrow for Rose and her captor. She knew it, and felt hope rising in her like a dove even as she cried out in fear for him.
A gun cracked once, twice, and Rose cringed, but Lyle didn’t fall. Instead, his two attackers flew off their mounts, one flying straight off, dead, and the other rocking over the side of his mount and falling halfway to the ground, where a cloud of dust rose over his dragging form until his horse slowed.
Her captor looked back and cursed.
“He’s coming for me,” Rose told him. “And he’ll kill you.”
“You shut your mouth.” The man started to strike her, but she ducked, flattening herself against the horse’s neck.
“Now, Jesse, now,” she whispered, and felt the bullet hit her captor, his body jerking wildly, threatening to knock her off. Grabbing the horse’s reins, she pulled hard until her mount came to a halt. The body behind her was dead weight, and as she dismounted, she caught sight of the blood-spattered form before turning and rushing away.
The white horse galloped over the plain at break neck speed, finally slowing in the seconds before Lyle reached her.
Her man vaulted off, striding towards her like she was the only thing in his world. She felt her knees go weak as he got closer, but made herself stagger towards him.
Lyle’s face darkened as he took in Rose’s torn bodice and corset. Then she was in his arms.
“You all right?”
“Yes, yes.” She rubbed her face on his chest, hands reaching up to slide from his jaw into his thick hair. Her touch reassured her he was real. “They didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.”
“Rose.” He caught a fistful of her hair and drew her head back. “Don’t you ever, ever...”
“I won’t.” Her breath blew out, half way between a sigh and a sob. “You came for me.”
“Always.” He crushed her to him. “Always.”
Their mouths met in a frenzy until Lightning whickered impatiently, stamping his foot.
“Is this Lightning?” she asked, stroking the pure white mane.
“Miles gave him to us, as a wedding present.”
He took off his long coat, and wrapped it around her, then lifted her up onto Lightning’s back before vaulting up behind her.
They rode past the dead men and two aimlessly wandering horses.
“Look.” Lyle pointed to the top of the rocky hill.
His brother Jesse appeared, standing with coat flapping in the breeze, rifle in hand. Rose could almost picture his cocky smile.
Lyle raised his hand in salute, and she waved, then their white mount rode on, and the scene disappeared in a cloud of dust. Before them lay the vast, aching wilderness, with the mountains rising behind. The savageness was softened, though, by the endless stretch of wildflowers, a pink carpet that seemed to spread from their feet all the way to the setting sun, a carpet leading them home.
The End
Rocky Mountain Romp
Rocky Mountain Discipline Book Four
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
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A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2915
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No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Savino, Lee
Rocky Mountain Romp
eBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-226-7
v1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Rocky Mountain Romp
“What do you think? She’s perfect for him.” Esther stood in the center of her parlor, holding up a newspaper, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Let me see it.” Carrie held out one hand for the newspaper, while her other cradled her baby daughter.
“Read it aloud,” Rose said. The tall redhead lounged on Esther’s chaise, swinging her feet. Her pale face held its usual bored expression, but even that was slipping in the face of Esther’s excitement.
“Here is the lady’s advertisement.” Carrie cleared her throat and read. “‘I am fat, fair, and forty-eight. Five feet high. Am a number one lady, well fixed with no encumbrance. Am in business in city, but want a partner who lives in the West. Want an energetic man that has some means, not under forty years of age and weight not less than 180. Of good habits. A Christian gentleman preferred.’” Carrie looked up, a little wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. “You think Mr. Martin will suit?”
“Why not?” Esther’s eyes danced with the thought. She had gathered the women in her parlor while the men were working on a barn raising and shared her plan to find a wife for Lawrence Martin, the owner of the general store in town.
“Is he over forty? His gut alone puts him over one hundred and eighty pounds,” Rose drawled, twi
rling a finger in her flame-colored hair. “I wouldn’t call him energetic. Although, last time I entered the shop, he hustled to the back to hide so quickly, you’d think I’d come to rob him.”
“He’s shy,” Carrie defended the bald shopkeeper.
“He needs a wife,” Esther said.
“Who does?” A voiced boomed in the doorway, and the women all jumped. Esther’s husband, the Reverend Johnathan Shepherd, stood in the doorway. He was so tall he had to duck under the mantel to enter, and his thick brows and lean face would make a lesser man look homely, but Johnathan wore an air of authority that compelled the eye.
Esther stood with a smile on her face; in normal moments she was ravishingly beautiful, but whenever her tall husband was in the room, she seemed to glow.
“Hello, husband. We were just speaking of Mr. Martin,” the blonde said sweetly.
The Reverend shook his head. His stern glance was directed at his wife, but in her corner, Carrie flushed and stuffed the newspaper away. Fortunately, Johnathan’s back was to the young mother, so he couldn’t see her guilty movements.
“Reverend Shepherd.” Rose sat up. A former saloon girl and dancer, she had no fear of the tall, imposing man, as if she sensed the gentleness in the Reverend. “How old is Mr. Martin?”
“I believe he turned forty this past August.” Shepherd frowned. “Why?”
“No reason.” Esther smiled at her husband with as much charm as she could muster. Rose joined in with a grin of her own and the Reverend finally shook his head.
“Whatever trouble you’re planning, I’ll warn you to stop.” He tilted his head at his wife, and she raised her own chin to meet his stare. “I came to tell you the men will break for lunch within the hour. If you ladies aren’t too busy.”
“Of course.” Esther sprang to her feet. The women retreated to the kitchen, Rose and Esther hurrying to start the meal as Carrie sat to feed her daughter.
“It’s decided then,” Esther said. “Now we must find a way to send the telegram.”
“I’ll do it,” Rose said. “Lyle and I ride to Canon City to look for his brother Jesse. I can slip away and send it. What if she writes back?”
“We’ll handle it at that time,” Esther said and clapped her hands with excitement, her beautiful face lighting up. “This is a wonderful plan.”
After making lunch, the women walked it out to the men. The new building sat behind the Shepherds’ house, a little more than a bare frame. Once it was built, the large, barnlike structure would serve double duty as a sanctuary on Sundays and a hospital the rest of the week.
The men looked up as the women started to skirt the first pile of lumber.
“Carrie!” Miles called to his wife and frowned and shook his head. Carrie stopped in her tracks. “Miles doesn’t want me any closer. He doesn’t think it’s safe.”
The broad shouldered man trotted out of the building area, still wearing a stern expression.
“Why don’t you eat under the tree? Stay out of the sun,” Esther suggested and handed off a lunch pail to Miles as he passed.
He strode to his wife’s side and then, hand on her back, escorted her away.
“I love how he dotes on her,” Rose said. “She’s the only one of us who can make him smile.”
“That and his daughter,” Esther said wistfully.
“Do you and Johnathan want children?” Rose took her friend’s arm and kept walking towards the wooden frame.
“Yes, very much.” Esther’s voice sounded pained. Rose waited, but the blonde woman didn’t elaborate further.
“Well, I’m not sure if I do. Lyle asked me if I was pregnant the other day, and I nearly choked on my coffee. The thought is frightening.”
“That’s understandable,” Esther said gently. Rose had told the minister’s wife all about her childhood, raised by her sister working in a brothel and saloon. Living in a home, with a loving family, was something Rose was still getting used to. “Still, if it happens, you needn’t fear. The child will be blessed beyond compare to have you and Lyle as parents.”
Rose blinked sharply, feeling tears rising to her eyes. “Thank you,” she said after a pause. “I suppose that is part of my worry—whether I’d be a suitable mother.”
Esther scoffed. “More than suitable. You’ll be wonderful.”
“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see,” Rose said, but her cheeks glowed. “You must promise me you’ll teach my children their letters.”
“I would love that,” Esther said. “I helped my mother teach my brothers and sisters at home the year the schoolmaster died, and the town had trouble getting a replacement.”
“I’m sure it was a lively classroom,” Rose remarked drily, and Esther laughed.
“It was lively. Just as things ought to be.” The women reached the build site, and Esther waved to her husband then took her leave. Rose watched her friend go, feeling satisfied with the return of Esther’s cheerfulness.
“What are you smirking about, darlin’?” Lyle strode up to his wife, long legs eating up the ground. The dark-haired man was tall and fine, with striking blue eyes; his beauty never failed to send a tingle through Rose. As soon as Lyle was close enough, he pulled his wife close and kissed her pale forehead.
“I’m just happy to be walking about with my friends. And now I’m glad to see you.”
“You sure you’re happy to see me and not some other man here?” Lyle pretended to survey the building, and Rose poked him.
“No, Mr. Wilder. It’s definitely you, and only you. I’m all yours.”
“For always.” Lyle tugged her behind one finished wall that also bordered the finished stables. Once they were out of sight, he slid his arms around her and kissed her.
“Lyle,” Rose said, breathless when he let her up for air. “Not here.”
“Here, there, anywhere.” His hands were fiddling with her skirts. Rolling her eyes, she let him pull her deeper into the shadows.
Inside the building, Esther danced up to her husband. “Hello, Mr. Shepherd,” she said playfully.
“Hello, beautiful wife.” The tall man smiled down at the green-eyed woman, almost a foot shorter than him.
With a grin, she found a pile of lumber and stepped up onto it to face him at his height.
“Esther, no.” Johnathan grabbed her waist and set her down. “Take care; that pile may be unstable.
“All right, husband. Will you give me a tour?”
Offering his arm, the tall minister obliged, strolling through the framed structure and pointing out the great room and the boards that marked where the rooms would lie. “In the center will be a great fireplace, made from mountain stone. Larder to the right, and there’s a door to the stables.”
“A very fine building for our own backyard. Can we move in here?”
“I’m glad you can imagine its charm, Esther, but I think we’ll need this space for patients.”
“But usually we travel to them.”
“For now, though as the town grows, people may come to us more often. And we’ll need all the rooms if there’s an outbreak of cholera or pneumonia.”
They finished their walk and sat together to eat their lunch, looking up at the big empty structure and envisioning the future.
“Five years, my dear,” Johnathan said.
“Next spring it will be six—for our marriage.”
He caught her hand and kissed it. “I was speaking of our life here, but yes, I cannot forget the day I met you. I can still see you peering at me through the apple blossoms.”
Her cheeks flushed at his warm look. “I remember.”
“I would say the best day of my life was when you agreed to be my wife, but the days have only gotten better since.”
“You have no regrets then?” Esther asked, a wistful turn to her voice.
“None.” Pulling her hand, he drew her closer and kissed her.
Laughter rang out from nearby, and the Shepherds broke away from each other just in time to see th
e Wilders come strolling out of the stables. Rose ran ahead, her face alight with joy. Lyle caught up and tugged her hand, turning her so he could pull a piece of straw from her hair.
Johnathan and Esther shared a knowing look.
“Not long before those two have a baby of their own,” Johnathan said. He stood and missed the shadow that passed over his wife’s face.
“Enjoy your lunch?” he called to the Wilders and offered a hand to lift Esther up.
“We haven’t had it yet,” Rose admitted.
“I was showing Rose the stables.” Lyle grinned and plucked another piece of hay from his wife’s red hair.
“Is that all? It looked like you were rolling in the hay,” Johnathan teased, and Esther’s mouth fell open. Her husband never spoke so forward about such things.
“Can’t lie to a minister.” Lyle shrugged, catching Rose in his arms. “You ready to catch another baby in a few months?”
“Really, Rose?” Johnathan’s eyes lit as he turned to the redhead. “You’re—”
“Not yet,” Rose said, pushing at her husband’s chest. “Lyle speaks what he wishes were true.”
“Only a matter of time,” Lyle said, reaffirming his hold around his wife’s fighting body. “I want a troupe of redheaded boys, all ready to work the land and settle up and down the river.” His hand slid down over Rose’s front. “Take heed, darlin’. If I don’t have one by next Christmas, I’ll tie you to the headboard until I’m sure one’s planted in your belly.”
Swatting at his hand, Rose blushed, and Esther looked away for a moment.
“If you’re done with the stables, would you like a tour of the building?” Johnathan asked, noticing his wife’s sudden quiet.
“After lunch. Must eat to keep up our strength.” Lyle let his wife go, and she shot away to get the lunch pail. The handsome Wilder watched her departure with a huge grin on his face.
