by S. A. Glenn
“I would never hurt him. I promise you, J.R.”
“Thank you, Katherine, that means a lot to me. Here comes your better half. Let me give you back to him.”
“Thank you, J.R., for the wonderful dance.”
“My pleasure, Katherine.”
“He treated you proper like, didn’t he?” Samuel asked with a joking attitude, eyeing his friend.
“Of course he did. He was a perfect gentleman,” she assured him, winking at J.R.
The festival carried on until the stagecoach arrived to take the bride and groom away on their honeymoon. The carriage, pulled by two brilliantly black-haired horses, was awaiting their passengers to fill the air with love and laughter. Boarding their ride, embellished with red and white roses, the lovebirds took their places next to each other, admiring the leather seats and red, ruffled silk curtain décor.
A chilled bottle of champagne of a vintage year waited for its effervescent liquid to be enjoyed. Samuel held the cold bottle, pointing it out the door. Popping the cork, white bubbly wine spewed out onto the thirsty ground. Taking hold of two tall crystal glasses, he filled them till they overflowed with tiny balls of oxygen. Clanking their vessels together, they celebrated the beginning of their lives with a swig.
They gazed out the door, waving good-bye to all. Samuel’s mother winked at him. He knew she was happy that he’d become the man she always knew he’d become. Shutting the hatch, Samuel tapped twice, letting the driver know they were ready to voyage onward.
“Where are we going?” Katherine asked.
“Mary’s Lake.”
“What’s there?”
“Shelley’s Cottages. I reserved one of them for three days and four nights. It’s right off the lake.”
Seven hours later, over bumpy roads, they arrived at their destination. The hatch opened and the driver assisted Katherine out. Samuel hopped out, picked up his bride and delivered her to the cabin marked #IV. She turned the knob and he carried her over the threshold. At the side of the tall, wide bed, he dropped her onto it. She bounced up, wrapped her wanton arms around him and pulled him down atop her, sealing his seductive lips with her kiss. Rolling around with passion, they heard a noise at the door.
“Ahem,” the driver cleared his throat. “Your baggage, sir.”
“Ah, yes. We’re gonna need that stuff.” Samuel peeled Katherine’s hands away from him as he stood.
“Ooohhh, pooh!” she pouted, pinching his behind.
“Aaahhh! That smarts!” He rubbed his backside as he walked to the door. He pulled out a quarter. “Please, set our things down, sir. We no longer need your services.” Samuel looked back at Mrs. Simms, acting like a big shot; he shrugged and gave her a silly grin.
She blew him a kiss.
But the driver caught it. “I believe this belongs to you, Mr. Simms,” he laughed, handing it to Samuel.
“Thank you, Mr. ‘Driver,’ I’ll put this in my pocket for later. You never know when a man’ll need one of these. This is for you, sir”
“Most kind” he said, taking the quarter. “You folks have a wonderful time. Good night,” he bid them, tipping his hat and walking into the darkness.
Samuel nodded with a smile.
“Thank you. Good night!” Katherine called out in a sweet voice.
Samuel shut the door and turned to his wife. “You’re gonna get it!”
“Why?”
“For pinchin’ my rump!”
“What’re you gonna do to me?”
“This!”
She gazed at him like a startled deer as he ran toward her then leapt onto the bed. She squealed with laughter while he tickled her all over. She snorted with snickers, begging for mercy. “Stop! Please stop! You’re gonna make me pee!”
“Are you gonna behave, wife?”
“Yes, husband!” she claimed. “At least for now.” She got that sly grin she always gave him when she was planning something naughty.
There was a cool draft coming off of the lake and entering the cottage. Katherine asked Samuel to light a fire. Wanting to please her with anything she desired, he hurried over to the framed opening made of granite. He grabbed a match out of the container atop the oak mantel and struck it on the base of the fireplace. Opening the flue, he set fire to the kindling under the grating, igniting the stacked logs above.
As the flame grew, it drew Katherine over to the bear skin rug. She sat and reached for Samuel to sit next to her, to gaze together into the enchanting glow. They held one another, warming up physically with the radiant blaze, then sexually with a kiss. She became wild with passion, rashly removing her gown and tossing it onto the bed. Shedding her petticoat, it joined with her dress. Samuel untied her corset, tossing it over to the rest of her things, then he slid her chemise over her head. Being naked she began to undress Samuel, not taking “no” for an answer this time. She removed his suspenders while he kicked off his boots. She unbuttoned his shirt; he removed his pants, pushing them aside with his feet. She pulled off his shirt leaving him wearing his undergarments. Peeling them off with the help of both of them, he sat unclothed next to her.
He ran his hands down her warm thighs, down to her toned calves then to the tip of her toes. Coming back up, he cupped her voluminous breasts, feeling how soft and inviting they were. They wrapped their hot-blooded bodies around each other, kissing, groping, and rolling about in front of the crackling fire. She became energized with lustful tendencies, needing, pleading; insisting on complete fulfillment. She sat upon him, taking his throbbing hardness into her clutches, positioning it at her hot wet passage. She dropped her intensified body, forcing her groin flush against his, placing him deep inside her virgin self.
“Oh, my god, Kat! Oh, my god!” he exclaimed. He reached for her bouncing breasts, moaning in ecstasy as he released his juices inside her tight canal—but now he needed to recharge—expect she wouldn’t stop. She rode him like a wild horse. He tried to remove himself from her, but that only excited her more. “Please, Kat, Stop!”
She moaned louder and louder, forcing herself harder and harder on him, grinding her groin against his. “Not yet! Not yet!” she insisted.
He was unable to endure the sensation on his member; it was too intense, and it felt like she was sucking the life out of him. He was willing to tolerate the torture, though. He kept still while she pleased herself. Then his highly concentrated, hostile emotion faded, replaced by an increasingly agreeable one that was more satisfactorily fierce than his first exciting peak. “Please, Kat… don’t stop!”
In unison, they liberated their sexual thirsts, gushing like overdue geysers. Howling like a predatory animal, she dragged her nails down his chest, leaving red trails upon his skin. She collapsed next to him, dead out of energy.
A distant wolf mimicked her wail.
“Are you ready for round two?” she asked. Slowing her breathing she grinned as she viewed his face.
“You almost killed me, Kat! I need recovery time!”
“I’m kidding, my love.” She kissed his cheek, letting out a quick laugh. She peered up into the beams overhead and watched the shadows change from the fluttering flames. “I guess I’m going to have to train you to handle my desires. Next time I want you to spank me and pull my hair and give it to me real hard!”
His jaw dropped. He looked over at her, expecting a silly grin upon a joking face—all he saw was seriousness. He gazed upon her face and studied its contours, observing the fire’s light changing her appearance, giving her several beautiful looks. She had gotten a physical, mental, and spiritual grip on him, and he was one with her until death would they part. “You’re an animal, Kat.”
“I am an animal, more than one kind,” she declared, biting her lip. “I can be a little kitty-cat: Meeeooow,” she displayed with a soft cute noise, rubbing her dainty nose on
his shoulder. “Or I can be a big lioness: GRRRRRR!” she expressed, clawing at his arm.
“Just be a Kitty-Kat for me now.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll hunt for the lioness later.”
“Prrrrrr,” she murmured, cuddling up to him and wrapping her arms around him.
CHAPTER 27
SPRING 1871
April was an invigorating month, bringing in a pulsating activity with bright colors and enriched sounds of flourishing life. The temperature climbed as the days got longer, setting the stage for building a house. Samuel had purchased four acres atop the hill where his garden was. He and Jacob Reynolds spent their Saturday’s and Sunday’s breaking ground, getting the foundation ready before the end of the month.
Samuel and Katherine had saved their money, allowing them to buy all the construction tools and materials they needed. Loads of lumber were hauled to the site. With all the friends they had accumulated, many hands had helped build the place just as Samuel had envisioned, getting it erected quickly.
The living room faced south with a picture window, two smaller windows faced east. Walking north through the front door, taking an immediate left, was the bedroom. Facing south, one opened its door, seeing the closet to the left, a medium-sized window centered at the front, and a smaller window centered on the right. The walls were covered with planks of lightly-stained walnut.
Leaving the bedroom, nearly ten feet straight out, was the bathroom to the left. Its walls were painted white with white ceramic tiles on the floor. A small window was centered on the western wall. Directly to the door’s left was a fixture to hold a washing bowl with a mirror placed behind it. Running along the western wall was a cast iron bathtub with legs, having a hand-pumped spigot at its southern end. And to the right of the door was an indoor commode that Samuel devised from his idea with the waterwheel. There was a large tank high above the floor with a pipe running down to the bowl. When a chain was pulled, water flowed down the pipe into the vessel, flushing away water through another pipe leading outside to a septic hole.
Exiting the bathroom, heading ten more feet, north along the western wall, was the kitchen straight ahead; it was separated from the bathroom with an outside gap of seven feet. To the left of the kitchen entrance there was a counter, then a stove, then another counter, all against the southern wall. Along the western wall was more counter space, ending at a set of stairs.
Three steps down led west to a level area of fifteen square feet; the back door, at the right. To the left there were eight steps down, leading to another level area with a solid redwood door. On the other side of the door were three more steps down that entered the 8x8 ft. cellar with three tiers of shelving on the south and east sides. The floor was dirt.
Back in the kitchen to the right of the stairs, was a counter with cupboards above and below it, running along the western wall. There were two small windows overhead. Against the northern wall was a counter with more cabinets below, with a sink, and a window above it all, giving a spectacular view of the valley and the town of Wrangler. Two rows of two set of shelves were on each side of the window.
On the eastern wall was another picture window that looked out onto the plains. A table and chairs Samuel had made out of maple sat under the large opening to the outside.
The kitchen floor was made of redwood, but the rest of remaining flooring in the house was oak.
The ceiling throughout the home was ten feet high, and the crown molding was carved with many complexly interrelated parts.
Leaving the kitchen toward the front door was a fireplace made of granite, centered on the eastern wall.
Heading out the front door, there was a porch with two sets of three steps. One set led straight out from the door, while the other set led off to the end of the porch that ran the length of the southern wall. Spreading out into the southern horizon was nothing but grassland and sky.
On the southwestern corner of the house was the large walnut tree. On the northwestern side was a little red barn to store hay and grain and for housing livestock and equipment; a chicken coop was attached to its southern side, stocked with a dozen chickens and a rooster. Around to the northeastern side, about thirty feet out, the apple, cherry and plum trees, thrived. The wild berries and raspberries were next to the house. The purple grapevines climbed the old picket fence, slumping over with its delicious fruit. The berries, mint, and sumac were nearby. A white picket fence enclosed the premises.
A dirt road formed a circle in front of the house, then bent around the eastern side, and led to town. Twenty feet out from the back of the house was an irrigation ditch, tapping off of the stream that curved its way down to the sawmill.
With the wagon loaded with their wedding gifts, Samuel and the Mrs. unloaded it and furnished their contemporary home, electrified to finally be on their own. Setting down the new sofa Sara had given them, Katherine noticed a small rip on the edge of the back of it. She poked at it for a second with a sigh. Positioning the couch in the center of the living room, she moved on. Next, the old grandfather clock Sara had parted with, the one her husband had made, was placed by the kitchen entrance. Samuel wound it then pulled the pendulum to one side, releasing it to start its free-swinging motion, giving the house its first tick and tock. The shiny black baby grand piano Dr. Thomas and Mary Ferley had once owned was their gift to the newlyweds. It was carefully placed in a position to the right of the clock. Katherine checked without haste to make sure that the delicate instrument was still in tune. Tapping on all eighty-eight keys, she found out that it was perfectly fine.
The bedroom got a luxurious bed with an oak frame and headboard, and canopy. The mattress was so thick and sat so high off of the floor that Katherine needed a stool to access it. All of this was a present from Louis Pierre. Samuel wasn’t as pleased about the gift as Katherine, though he appreciated it since they didn’t have a big bed of their own. He was suspicious as to, of all the gifts to provide, why Louis Pierre had picked such a personal item. Samuel thought the man wanted to test it out with Katherine.
After stocking the kitchen with kitchenware and food, they headed to the cellar to store jars and tinned cans of provisions; Samuel was only present in the miserable, moist place because Katherine could ease his anxiety.
The odds and ends such as rugs, a bookcase, a few chairs, and their clothes were put into place throughout the house. A chest of drawers and a coffee table would come later since money was tight.
On the porch, Samuel hung three wind chimes from the soffit, hoping that the sounds of them would be pleasant when a breeze came along.
CHAPTER 28
LATE SUMMER 1871
The morning of September 1st started off with sunshine; but by nightfall, a brisk zephyr blew in a misty rain, keeping all townsfolk indoors with blazing fires. Katherine and Samuel were at the saloon entertaining the jolly customers with songs that they had created. Though Samuel wasn’t the best violinist, he was good enough to keep most patrons happy. Louis Pierre was sitting at a corner table in the dark, enjoying a sweet to very dry, white German wine, watching, and listening to Katherine play her talented tune. He was impressed by her quick fingers and timing, having him wanting for her to perform at his mansion the following Saturday for an evening party with many high-society guests.
Upon completion of the merry melody, a mild applause broke out. Having been playing for awhile, Samuel and Katherine took a break. Samuel headed to the bar to order drinks.
Louis Pierre took a last swallow of his Riesling and pushed his glass aside. He ventured toward Katherine, approaching her with a fetching smile. “Pardon wa, Madame Simms. Bonjour.” He tipped his hat and bowed. He took her hand and touched his wine-coated lips to her weary knuckles. “You look ravishing, my dear. Your flair for beautiful harmony is outstanding.”
“Merci beaucou for both compliments, Monsieur Pierre,” she thanked him, stood
, and curtsied. “How is everything going?”
“Wonderfully!” He had a cheerful smile—then his face showed gloom. “But I am feeling malaise, as well.”
“I am not familiar with that term, but it does not seem pleasant.”
“No, it is not. I have a noblesse oblige to amuse a few hundred associates in matters of beaux arts and tastes at my home for a soirée. But I do not know of anyone adept enough to take on the challenge,” he explained with a pitiful frown.
“Samuel and I could play our songs; that is, if you have a piano.”
“What a marvelous concept!” he jutted out with a sudden smile. “Of course I have a piano—a grand piano—from Italy. Oh, but—” his face grew dreary—“I am sorry to say, I do not think it to be wise, for sales purposes, to have Monsieur Simms play—he—how should I say it?” He put his finger to his lips then pointed upward with his verdict. “He needs practice. He is gauche.”
“I do not understand that word, Monsieur Pierre.”
“I do not mean to blunt, but my clientele are snobbish, and Monsieur Simms lacks social experience.”
She took a deep breath then sighed with a gentle grin. “I know, but he means well.”
“I really need you, Katherine!” he begged in his moderate, French accent. “Your style is lovely, and your rhythm, uncanny. I can pay you five dollars for the night’s service.”
“Oh, my gosh! Five dollars?”
“Is that not enough? I can pay more!”
“No! That is a generous offer, and quite tempting—that is nearly what I make in a month!”
“The function is at 6:00 p.m. and ends around 10:00. I will have Fréderic pick you up at 4:00 to get you here to warm up. There will be lots of wining and dining. Fréderic is par excellence when it comes to cooking. And the fine arts exhibitions and all the unique paintings and sculptures—one would not want to miss it. A lot of prestigious people will be there. What do you say, Katherine. Will you come play?”
