by Cheri Chaise
Thirteen filled trunks thus far. I’d packed and repacked these several times already, thinning out frocks, shoes, a host of millenary, and an assortment of unmentionables I was forced to part with. And I’d yet to sort through my book collection or the remnants of my extensive trousseau.
Though much of what I’d set aside to take into my union had gone to my sister upon her marriage. I’d determined it was better to be utilized for some purpose instead of sitting in drawers collecting dust and moths.
Abby picked up one of the brightly colored spools. “I still can’t believe you’re leaving for the wilds of the western frontier. I hear such stories as to frighten me exceedingly.”
I dampened the cloth again then wrung it out, the cooling droplets tinkling as they landed in the bowl. I tried not to give too much notice to the trembling in my hands.
“I’m sure that’s all they are, Abby…stories.”
“But how can you be sure? There are wild animals. Savage Indians.”
The water soothed my heated skin as I forced my thoughts to my husband-to-be. “Cole said they have friends in the local tribes, and that there are merely a few bands of younger warriors who create minor skirmishes from time-to-time.”
I didn’t dare mention that some of those savages might even be family. The very idea baffled and intrigued me. I hoped to someday learn more details of that tragic story. It was quite noble of the family to keep and raise the child as one of their own.
“Well…what about his home?” Her gray gaze traced the walls of my bedroom. “I hear many on the plains use bricks of earth to build their homes. What if it’s a tiny, one room hovel that’s ready to blow down with the slightest wind?”
I laughed to cover the nervous anxiety I already possessed over my own expectations. There was no need to trouble my already troubled sister with doubts when I’d firmly steeled myself to this destiny.
“Cole lives with his three brothers in a log home they built years ago. Do you know of four grown men who would willingly share one tiny room?”
“Perhaps not,” she acquiesced. “But are you certain he’s not just telling you those things because he wants you out there? What if it’s all a ruse?”
I stared incredulous at her reflection in the mirror. “Are you really so ready to impugn the character of my intended?” Even though I’d pondered this very same possibility countless times over the last weeks.
“But what do you truly know with certainty of his character?” Abby reached into my keepsake box and lifted out a handful of Cole’s letters. “He could be filling your head with tales. You understand better than most how cunning a man can be when he desires something from a lady.” Understanding was in her gaze before she shook the bundled letters firmly. “How are you to know if any of these words are true?”
“You’re right. I don’t.” I turned around to face her fully, the gut-wrenching truth spilling from my lips before I could stop it. “But at twenty-three, I am out of options.”
Chapter Four
Cole
The morning dawned bright, chasing away the night’s chill. A cool breeze blew the swaying tops of tallgrasses that would soon be a collage of yellow coneflower, red paintbrush and an assortment of other colorful wildflowers ripe for decorating a dinner table. The sun’s golden orb offered a portent of better things to come.
As well it should.
The overlong, harsh winter had drawn out starving predators and scavengers alike to feast upon the slow and weak of the herd – which usually meant valuable pregnant heifers or their newly birthed calves.
I’d spent many a long night watching over both herd and flock, holed up under the eaves of a bluff or in a small cave while the Canadian winds howled down from the north across the untamed Montana plain.
We were overdue for this spring warmth and for the promises it brought.
If all was going according to plan, Estella had boarded the rail and was even now making her way toward St. Louis.
And us.
I’d kept myself warm through the winter, reading and re-reading the letters where she’d offered up a glimpse of what she looked like.
When ravens made their appearance against the stark white snow, I thought of touching bare, milky skin and running my fingers through her raven locks as they tumbled down when released from their pins. Bluebells that now blanketed the higher elevations had me imagining her, as she’d described her too-wide blue eyes.
Just when I thought I’d hand-fucked my cock dry, new thoughts of her would harden me all over again. Spilling my seed across the ranch did have its benefits though. It had the dual effect of not only keeping me from freezing but marking my territory to drive the damn predators away from my cattle.
The squeak and groan of leather against leather kept up a steady cadence as Bret and I rode alongside and surveyed the newest members of the ranch. Young calves that had survived the attacks unscathed huddled beside their mothers and nursed from swollen udders while the heifers drank their fill from the creek overflowing with snowmelt from the mountains farther west.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, brother?”
“What?” I squinted at Bret from beneath my brown hat and gestured toward the thirty or so head grazing happily on new grass. Anything to get my mind on the task at hand. “That we need to separate that bunch from the others and corral them closer to the homestead?”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “I doubt that smile is over getting a bunch of cattle fattened up and ready for market.”
“What smile?”
“You’ve been sporting the biggest shit-eating grin for the last couple of hours.”
“Have not.” I tugged on my hat, hunkered down in my saddle and urged Buck forward ahead of the chestnut quarter mare.
“From ear-to-ear, brother,” Bret called after me.
I snorted. When had he had time to notice my grin when he had one of his own? His thoughts were probably settled in on her too. I only hoped his balls were as blue as mine. Blue like Estella’s eyes.
We threaded our horses through the edge of the herd and took up position at the rear on either side of the bunch I’d pointed out. With an ear-piercing whistle, we yipped and hawed to quickly separate them from the rest of the herd and get them moving forward.
Once we had what we needed for now, we slowed down to a nice, even gait and herded them toward the homestead.
The wind kicked up occasionally and whispered through the tall grasses as we rustled along. Buck occasionally nipped at the mare when we rode close to one another like he was looking for another roll.
“How’s Sunstar holding up?” I asked.
“Seems fine. Glad to be out of the stable again, I’d imagine.” Bret patted the pregnant mare and scruffed behind her ears. “She’s pulling pretty hard now that we’re heading toward home again, so I imagine she’ll be glad to get some grains when we get there.”
“Aren’t you afraid she’ll get fat?” I teased.
I caught the gleam from the shadow beneath his hat. “Are you talking about the mare…or Estella?”
My brother’s teeth looked even whiter against his tanned skin and long black hair blowing from under his hat. Definitely showing off the heritage today.
“I was talking about the mare,” I said. “But since you brought it up, you do realize you’re gonna need to cut off those precious locks of yours before Estella sees you, right?”
White teeth disappeared into the shadows from the wide brim in an instant. “Do you really wanna go there now?”
Bret was my brother, and I loved him just as much as the other two – maybe more. Would defend him to the death. If I would’ve been there when he showed up for veterinary school and was summarily dismissed all in one day, I’d have spent the last moments of my life at the end of an Iowa hangman’s noose. Defending my brother would’ve been worth whatever price I’d had to pay for the way those bastards had treated him.
That bit of Sioux blood always affected othe
r people, bringing their own personal prejudices to the forefront, regardless that he carried the Carston family name. It didn’t help that the more time Bret spent in the sun, the more obvious the differences between us became.
Sometimes I imagined he kept his hair long to mimic me. At other times, I think it was his way of telling the rest of the world to fuck off.
“You know well as I do that it’ll make Estella’s transition easier if you look more clean-cut and less like a savage.” I put my hand up to stop the angry bark before it bit. “Other men’s words…not mine.”
“Sure sounded like your voice behind those words,” he muttered with a little less heat than I expected.
I sighed. With Sky, there’d never been an issue. We’d been a family from the moment we’d stumbled upon her battered form and rescued her from the hands of her pathetic excuse of a father. Gold fever brought out the worst in people.
But we were in new territory when it came to Estella. “It’s just the reality we have to face, brother. I never said I liked it.” I cut a glance his way. “When your hair’s short, more of Ma’s side of the family comes through is all.”
Silence. That is, save for the saddle squeaks against my chaps, the slap of coiled rope, and the occasional lowing from cattle resistant to our prodding.
Bret finally spoke. “I’ll cut mine if you cut yours.”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “Deal.”
We’d go in together first thing when we rode into Fort Union and get rid of our winter coats like sheering the sheep. After all, that’s how the fancy folks back east wore their hair. Anything to make Estella feel more at home.
The quiet grew comfortable this time as the sun rose high. We stopped off at a shaded spring to allow the herd to drink and graze then dismounted to give the horses a rest. I handed Bret some jerky Evan had smoked after returning from his last trapping trip in the higher elevations, then drank my fill from the canteen.
My brother sat on the still hard ground and leaned back against the pine to stare out over the prairie. “She was supposed to leave this morning…wasn’t she?”
“Yup.” I handed over the canteen.
Contemplation harbored in Bret’s dark eyes. He took a deep draught then wiped his sleeve across his mouth before handing the canteen back. “Do you think she actually got on that train?”
There it was. He’d voiced my own fears. Ever since I’d awakened that morning, my thoughts had swirled between thinking of her attributes and wondering if I’d ever get to see them in person. All I could do was shrug before Bret continued.
“Estella’s supposed to be this East Coast, society-minded, city gal. Her dad’s some politician, for fuck’s sake.” He spit out the tough bits of jerky with a scowl. “Do you honestly think he’d let his daughter get on a train and head west? All alone? Knowing the likelihood of ever seeing her again is pretty much nil?”
I snatched off my hat and dusted it against my thigh before studying it like it was the most fascinating thing out here. “Guess we’ll find out in six weeks or so.”
“Six weeks,” Bret mumbled, tipping his hat back and squinting up at the dipping sun. “Do you think she’ll be pretty?”
In my mind she was, regardless of the warnings I’d tried to ignore from her letters. Estella had always downplayed her appearance, with references about the wide-set of her eyes, a pointy chin, and far too many other disparaging comments probably made by her once-intended. I wouldn’t trust a thing that sniveling ex of hers had told her. Sour grapes and all that.
“Will it really matter what she looks like?”
“It might make it easier.”
The way my cock throbbed, I was seriously beginning to doubt that. “In her letters, she said she has blue eyes.”
He breathed deep and released it like a slow sigh with her name on his lips. “Like Sky.”
“Long black hair.”
I pictured again lustrous ribbons hanging down and tickling my bare chest as she rode me. Hard and fast. Hot seed filling her silken sheath.
My cock twitched. No, it practically jumped with need.
Bret cocked a brow and a slow grin etched into his smooth cheeks as if his mind had painted the same irresistibly erotic picture. “Like mine.”
I was pretty sure he spoke of Estella’s hair, not my sensuous mental picture. “You already agreed to cut yours. No backing out now.”
He chuckled and tilted his hat to cover his eyes. Silence descended around us, broken only by the stamp and rustle of hooves. I almost thought Bret had fallen asleep against the tree trunk until he spoke again.
“Do you think it’ll really bother her? My looking different from you three?”
I joined him against a nearby tree, preferring to stand as long as possible since we’d be in the saddle the rest of the afternoon.
“It might,” I acknowledged truthfully, choosing the straightforward and realistic approach others had come to expect from me. “But only until she gets to know you.”
“Did you at least warn her I had a different dad, or were you afraid that might scare her off?”
“I told her.”
Scared to death to do it, but it was the first and necessary test to see if she’d reject the expectations of our unique family. Then after her own declaration of indiscretion, I hadn’t given it another thought.
Until now.
“And?” Bret prodded in my silence.
“She’s still coming, isn’t she?”
He sighed. “We can only hope.”
Buck headed in the mare’s direction, but I snapped up his reins and mounted before he could get frisky. “You wouldn’t happen to have another mare in heat yet, would you? Looks like Buck’s ready to plant his pole again.”
“Sounds like he’s about as insatiable as someone else I know.” Bret laughed as he got up from the cold ground, dusted off his chaps, then followed my lead into the saddle. “By the way, how’s your hand?”
I ignored the question from my overly perceptive brother as we herded the cattle away from the spring and resumed our previous trajectory. But he wasn’t wrong. We all had been pouring out our seed on the ground and in the sheets for far too long now. We needed a woman on the ranch again and needed her soon.
I only hoped the ache in my balls wouldn’t grow too unbearable before Estella was ready to accept us – and our uncommon lifestyle.
“Do you think we should get to Fort Union early and visit the brothel before Estella arrives next month?” I asked.
“Brother, the moment we get to Fort Union I’m gonna have one in the sack with me every night until Estella gets off that damned steamboat.”
“Hmm. Good plan.”
“Otherwise, I wouldn’t trust any of us to keep her virtue intact all the way back here,” Bret admitted.
I didn’t bother reminding him about the story Estella had shared of the months she’d spent giving up that virtue to someone other than her intended. And all that time without conceiving a child either. I hadn’t bothered to ask further about that incident, but it’d have to be a conversation explored upon her arrival – sooner rather than later.
With the occasional visits to brothels over the years, I’d heard plenty of stories about how women went about avoiding pregnancy. We needed children to carry on the family legacy. But when it came to a woman’s safety out here in the wild, western frontier, there were limits.
My brothers and I could attest to that.
For the remainder of the ride, we left each other to our own contemplations. The shadows lengthened before the rooflines of the ranch came into view, and we steered the small herd toward the gate of the nearest enclosed pasture.
The fencing sagged a bit after the wet and blustery winter. That’d be a good project to keep my mind occupied with something other than thoughts of Estella for the next six weeks – and give my hands something to do besides wrap around my cock.
Evan must’ve seen us coming from the tanning shed across the way, his lon
g, loping strides quickly carrying him across the pasture to open the gate. The wind whipped his long beard into a tangle.
That mountain man beard had to come off when Bret and I sheared our lengths, if not before. I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation either. But after a winter spent in the Montana wilds, the second-oldest Carston brother always looked more grizzly than human. The way he appeared now, I think Estella would be more frightened by him than Bret.
My brother again picked up on my train of thought. Had to be some sort of mystical shit from that Sioux blood.
“Be honest with me, Cole,” Bret began. “Do you think Estella will be willing to accept us? All of us?”
I turned Bret’s earlier words back on him. “We can only hope.”
Damn, how much I hoped. If six weeks didn’t get here soon, my balls wouldn’t just be blue – they’d shrivel up and fall off.
Chapter Five
Estella
In the dying light of day, I had to squint to thread the needle anew. The swaying of the train coach did little to help steady my hands. Nor did the perspiration beading and rolling down my forehead.
With a frustrated sigh, I jabbed the needle into the fabric and dabbed my face and neck with the dainty hanky, yellowed and smeared already with a delightful mixture of dust and sweat.
I longed for a cooling and comforting breeze. But opening the windows of the coach merely guaranteed a lungful of coal dust and eyes filled with grit. I was having a difficult time seeing my tiny stitches anyway, especially when they kept blurring.
Only four days into my westward journey, and already I wanted to give up. I stared at the cambric cloth pieces scattered across my lap and peeking from the sewing basket at my feet. I was trying to do just as Mrs. Barker instructed and keep the stitches small, tight, and straight along each seam.
I so wanted to impress Cole upon our first meeting and present him with a shirt I’d made for him myself. I’d purchased the fine fabric and cut out the pieces under Mrs. Barker’s keen direction, thinking Cole might perhaps wear it for our wedding.
