The mountains towering in the distance were now snow-capped, and the trees were beginning to change color. The nights were getting cooler and, more often than not, frost was on the ground in the morning.
There was still a lot to do to prepare for the oncoming winter months. Garret shifted his concerns to the barns and was busy with Jasper fixing roofs and rebuilding what was needed to house the horses and oxen for the winter. It seemed to Beth, the word winter had taken on an ominous tone. They didn’t know what to expect, so they had to prepare for the worst.
The bright side to living so isolated was Beth and Garret were enjoying their newfound privacy. They often spoke of having a baby and were trying hard to make it happen. As nightfall came earlier, it meant more time spent in each other’s arms.
Garret had no regrets on building the extra room. He was enjoying the privacy of their new bedroom separated completely from the rest of the cabin. They had not yet cut a door to connect the two rooms. The omission of a connecting door had been deliberate to give the Braxton family privacy. Garret knew he would soon have to cut a door through to connect the two rooms since he could not have Beth running outside every time she needed access to the bedroom during the winter.
When Garret married Beth, he had looked forward to having her to himself for a while. It hadn’t turned out that way. Jasper had been on the property when they arrived. Now the Braxtons were living with them. The only privacy they had was in their little lean-to bedroom.
With the new addition to the cabin, they had privacy anytime they wanted it. Garret’s thoughts were constantly on his wife. He was becoming obsessed with her, starved for her. His thoughts were beyond being randy. He was consumed with the idea of being with her, inside her.
Beth noticed the difference in Garret. He had been a dedicated lover since they married, but something had changed recently. Maybe it was because they were talking about beginning a family. She was not sure why but suddenly Garret seemed to want her all the time. She was not opposed to the idea, having begun to feel somewhat like a workhorse. She began to take a little more effort with her appearance, and it was well rewarded.
Garret still found it difficult to believe his beautiful Beth was a woman who liked sex. He had been in the Army four long years and during those years he heard a lot of talk from men, both officers and enlisted. From what he had learned, most women thought sex was something they had to endure as a prelude to having children. He was real glad his wife thought differently than those women.
As fall was changing into winter, their days settled into an easier routine. There was still work to do, only not at the frantic pace Garret had set all summer.
He told Jasper they could afford to sleep another hour in the mornings. However, sleep was not necessarily what was foremost in his priorities. Beth awoke warm, soft, and inviting in the mornings. He woke up hard and ready, and she never turned away from him. The extra hour was spent making love to his wife, but it was still not enough. He found his need for Beth becoming insatiable. He needed to see her face, to kiss her mouth, and to feel her skin. One afternoon, he told Jasper to make himself scarce and go fishing. He spent most of the afternoon buried in his wife as many times as he could manage.
Whatever had gotten into her husband, Beth was enjoying it. Although they had been married for months, she responded to every advance from Garret. She could tell from the gleam in his eye what he wanted, and she matched it by wanting to be taken. Suddenly, Beth was a wanton woman. She cast him come-hither looks, and sometimes ran her hand down his chest and suggestively close to the front of his trousers. She could feel the heat from his instant arousal. Both of them were experiencing an awakening. They were slipping away for private moments even if it only for a few seconds of touching each other.
They had managed to have relations in the most unlikely places. Beth realized it was exciting to never know when or where she would turn around and find her husband wanting her. Garret’s lust for her was growing, and he did not want to wait until they could slip away quietly. She naughtily assisted his desires by deliberately removing her bloomers and seeking him out. Whenever he discovered she was without undergarments, it was the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull. His eyes glazed over, and he became singularly focused on having her. He did take her, usually hard and fast, and not gentle. She liked it when Garret was gentle and sweet with her. She loved it when he was masterful and demanding. His slightest touch ignited her passions, and she responded with equal fervor. She had never expected to enjoy this part of marriage so much. They made love in the barn stalls, the loft, against several trees on their property, and on nearly every surface in their home. Anything he could bend her over or lay her back against enabled him to enjoy her.
***
Beth had suddenly left the breakfast table and not returned. Garret turned a plate upside down to cover his wife’s breakfast so it would stay warm and went looking for her. She was not hard to find. He opened the bedroom door and found her sitting on the bed crying.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
She wiped away her tears and glanced away from him. “There’s no baby this month.”
“Honey, it will happen,” Garret said pulling her into his lap.
“When?” Beth cried. “We’ve been going at it like bunny rabbits.”
“I know, and I thank you. We haven’t been married long. You need to give it time. I don’t mind having you to myself for a while. There’s nothing to worry about. My ma was married four years before she had me. Sometimes it takes a while.”
Beth laid her head on his shoulder. “Marie was married to Pierre for five years before she had her first.”
“There you go, there’s nothing to worry about,” Garret consoled her with a smile. “I’ve been putting it off, but next week is the first of October. We need to go to Denver and get our winter supplies. Start making a list. Some winters can be light out here and others harsh. We need to be prepared. Since we have to go into town, I’ll take another load of furniture from the barn, sell it, and bring back the provisions we need.”
“I’d like to see how the settlement is progressing,” Beth said. “We can take the large box of books and donate them to the school provided they have built one.”
“Good idea,” Garret agreed with a smile. “It will be good to get rid of a bunch of useless stuff around here.”
“Should I go through the locked trunks and boxes in the loft? You’ll have to break them open.” Beth asked gazing upward over their heads.
“No, we have more than a wagonload in the barn. The locked ones will make a good winter project and keep you out of trouble.”
He traced a finger over her lips. “I know you’re disappointed, but we’ll have a baby, honey. It takes longer for some than others.” He winked at her. “I’ll do my part, will you?”
“I’ve been doing my part,” Beth exclaimed blushing.
Garret let out a raucous laugh. “So you have my darling, so you have.”
***
Beth carried small pieces of furniture out of the barn and added them to the growing pile. They were loading the wagon for their next trip to the Denver settlement. Garret said it was now or never as they had awakened to heavy frost. Once the sun had broken through the clouds, all evidence of the colder night temperatures had disappeared.
Garret would make this trip by himself after all. They had planned to go together and leave Jasper behind to tend the animals since they would be gone several days, but Jasper had stepped on a loose nail. It had embedded deeply in the sole of his foot, and Garret had been forced to pull it out with a pair of pliers.
Beth was staying home with the boy. She told her husband they could not trust Jasper to follow her instructions and soak his foot in alcohol to avoid infection. She would stay and make sure he did not get lockjaw.
Beth pulled her shawl tightly around her and waved off her husband. She had already gone through a long list of promises to him. For days, he had been remi
nding her of chores and things she should not forget to do while he was gone. She had assured him she could take care of the animals, Jasper, and everything else during his absence, but Garret still worried. Beth teased him and told him next time he should write out a list for her to follow with check boxes.
Her remark had earned her a smack on her bottom and a long kiss.
With more waves, Garret drove his team away from their property.
Chapter Eight
Garret signed the invoice and accepted cash from Mr. Tolliver. He had negotiated good prices for the larger pieces of furniture, enough to pay for their winter supplies.
“You keep going out on the trails and salvaging, and I’ll keep buying,” Mr. Tolliver assured him.
“I didn’t scavenge this stuff,” Garret said. “A man named John Ames was using my barn to store it. I heard he was killed in a shooting here in Denver. He didn’t have permission to store it on my property, and I need to clear out the barn for use this winter.”
“There ain’t no shame in scavenging, Mr. Wakefield,” Mr. Tolliver said. “Did you find any strong boxes in your barn?”
“Filled with fifty-dollar gold pieces?” Garret asked with a smile. “I was a scout before and after the war on the California and Oregon Trails. I’ve heard the stories, Mr. Tolliver, except I don’t believe them. If there were any gold sent to California, it would have gone by ship.”
The older man wagged his head. “Stranger things have gone by wagon train. Didn’t I buy a hurdy-gurdy from you?”
“True enough,” Garret admitted with a chuckle. “Anyway, why would the government send a shipment of gold to San Francisco? The San Francisco Mint was built to support gold coming out of California. If anything, they would have shipped it from California to Washington.”
“I reckon,” Mr. Tolliver said. “Still, a lot of gold shipments went missing during the war on both sides.”
“I’ve heard those rumors too, but those missing shipments didn’t end up in my cow barn,” Garret laughed.
Garret left the furniture store and went to the mercantile. Mr. Johnson was behind the till, again. He guessed the mercantile business was a bit volatile. On their last trip, the name Johnson had been crossed off on the sign, and the name Smith was written under it. Now, Smith was crossed off, and Johnson had been written back on it.
“Good day, Mr. Wakefield,” Mrs. Johnson exclaimed. “Is your wife here with you?”
“Not this time, Mrs. Johnson,” Garret said. “Our boy stepped on a nail, and she didn’t want to take a chance of his foot getting infected, so she stayed home with him.”
“What a shame,” the woman said. “I do enjoy talking with Mrs. Wakefield.”
“The dress she made from the cloth goods you sold her on the last trip turned out real pretty,” Garret said. “If you would pick out another piece, I’d like to give her a gift. She’s been working real hard all summer.”
The woman’s face changed instantly with a smile. “I will be pleased to do it. I wish more men appreciated how hard their wives work.” She shifted her eyes to her husband behind the counter giving him a squinty glare.
Garret handed off his list of supplies to the proprietors of the store and excused himself. He needed to visit the Feed and Grain. He wanted to load the front of the wagon with the heavy sacks of feed before loading the winter provisions in the back.
He looked around as he walked to the south end of the town. Denver was growing. There was a Denver Overland Stagecoach sign in place on a new building on Blake Street. There seemed to be a disproportionate amount of banks and land development buildings compared to businesses of any use to the settlers and ranchers. The building Beth had hoped would be a church, or a school had a sign on it declaring it the Colorado Territorial Courthouse.
To Garret’s surprise, Joe Braxton met him on the loading dock at the Feed and Grain.
“Joe, good to see you.”
“Good to see you too,” Joe said shaking his hand before hoisting a sack of grain on his shoulder while Garret took another.
“I’m glad you found work. How’s the family?”
“Different,” Joe said tossing the sack into the wagon. “Coming west was the worst decision I ever made. I’ve lost nearly everything. Matilda left me when we got back to Denver. I woke up one morning, and she was gone. She took the new stagecoach out of town. She stole every cent we had and skedaddled. Thank God, she left my children behind.”
“Are you going after her?”
“No. She got as far as Lexington, Kentucky. I figured she was bound for South Carolina because her folks live there. I got a letter from a railroad company about a week ago. There was a train accident, and she was killed. The company sent me the name of the town where she’s buried along with a check for two hundred and fifty dollars. I’m waiting for a letter from my brother in Texas. He’s filing a homestead claim for me not far from where he lives. As soon as I hear from him, I’m taking the children and moving there. It might not be where I hoped to start over, but at least I’ll have family close by.”
Garret offered his condolences and wished his friend the best of luck. Joe’s hard luck story only confirmed how fortunate he had been to find and marry Beth. Not every woman was suited to a life in the west. He ambled into the mercantile, and this time, he planned to buy his wife something extra pretty to show her how much he loved and appreciated her.
***
“Do I have too?” Jasper complained as Beth set a bowl of hot water and the bottle of alcohol on the kitchen table.
“Yes, you do,” Beth said sternly. “I didn’t pass on a chance to go into town only to let your foot get infected. I know it hurts, but it’s necessary. Tuff-up and grit your teeth, because this is going to sting like the dickens.”
Once the hollering was done, Beth bandaged the boy’s foot. Neither she nor Jasper would tell Garret about the swearing. The boy might have said the words, but surely she had been thinking them as she had struggled to hold him still. The saying of those words would have meant a trip to the woodshed for Jasper. She did not want to think of what it would have meant for her backside because she didn’t think her husband even believed she knew those words.
Beth knew a little about nursing having had the idea of becoming a nurse at the beginning of the war. She had volunteered for a nursing course and had gone to several classes. When her father had come home from the militia, he had forbidden her to return. He would not allow his daughter to be involved in such an unladylike endeavor.
Garret had only been gone for three days and still Beth longed for her husband’s return. Conversation with a fourteen-year-old was limited especially as sometimes he considered her an enemy. She was not only his nurse but also his schoolteacher.
With Jasper unable to do the chores, they fell on Beth’s shoulders. She was stronger now though and quite capable. She milked the cow, fed the chickens, and set out hay for Garret’s cattle. She was also busy turning the leftover plants in her garden and adding cow manure to the dirt. Marie had told her it would put nourishment into the soil. It was a stinking, disgusting job, and not one she would delegate to her husband or Jasper. The garden was her responsibility, and she was quite proud of the results she had reaped the first year.
When she finished the garden, Beth sent Jasper into his little lean-to bedroom. She asked him to stay there until she could heat water for a bath. She had finished her bath and put on a clean dress when the door was kicked open.
Beth screamed and backed away as three Indians ducked through the doorway and stood in her cabin gazing around the interior. The three warriors' faces were covered in black and white war paint. Their buckskins were elaborately decorated with bits of fur, feathers, and fringe. They carried Army issue seven-shot Spencer repeating rifles.
Beth backed away from them as Jasper stepped out from his bedroom with his rifle aimed directly at the warriors. The Indians did not blink an eye at the threat.”
“Where is Wakefield?” one of the
Indians demanded.
“He’ll be here any second,” Jasper lied.
The man who spoke turned and stared at Beth. “Tell your man we are not here to hurt anyone. Wakefield is our friend. Tell him, Black Crow was here.”
Beth drew a deep breath as the Indians turned and left the cabin. She ran across the room, and Jasper joined her as they slid a long piece of board across metal brackets. She ran to the mantle, retrieved the rifle, and went to the window.
The Indians mounted their horses and the one who called himself Black Crow threw a War Lance at the window.
Beth screamed and ducked, and when she opened her eyes, the Lance was imbedded deep into the log above the window on the outside. The shaft was black, and it was embellished with buffalo fur, black feathers, and what appeared suspiciously like long red hair.
“They’re gone,” Jasper said peering out the window on the other side of the cabin. “They were wearing war paint! Did we scare them off?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not leaving you alone again,” Beth exclaimed.
“Me?” Jasper squawked. “I’m supposed to be protecting you!”
“We can protect each other,” Beth exclaimed as she put down her rifle and clasped her hands to her chest. “They know Garret. What if they attack him?”
“Black Crow said they didn’t want to hurt anyone,” Jasper said. “I heard of him when I lived in Denver. The Army has been hunting him for a long time, he’s supposed to have done some really awful things.”
“Let’s hope he is a very good friend of Garret’s,” Beth said shakily.
Beth spent far too much time watching the horizon for an incoming wagon. The Indians hadn’t returned, but Captain Sumners and his troops had ridden by the cabin twice warning her there was a renegade band of Arapaho in the area led by a warrior named Black Crow.
Beth would not let Jasper out of her sight. She convinced the boy he was her protector and had him stand guard as she completed the necessary chores. She had rummaged through Garret’s old army and scout gear and found his Remington Model 1858 revolver. She kept it nearby and loaded. Garret had taught her how to shoot a rifle. Jacob, Lettie’s brother, had taught her how to shoot a revolver. Of the two, she was more confident using the revolver.
A Path Worth Taking Page 13
