The Outlaw Takes A Bride: A Historical Western Romance (Bernstein Sisters Historical Cowboy Romance Series Book 5)

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The Outlaw Takes A Bride: A Historical Western Romance (Bernstein Sisters Historical Cowboy Romance Series Book 5) Page 17

by Amy Field


  The bus rode off leaving Martha alone, she walked back to the house and with her day’s schedule imprinted in her mind. She cleared the table before walking around the kitchen in search of her market bag. The earlier she got there, the fresher the groceries she was bound to get.

  With her list intact and her shopping bag swayed over her left arm, Martha made it to the door and started walking to the market. She loved how the warm sun rays were warming up her rosy cheeks as she walked on and thought of her day ahead.

  Her life was a dull routine, she had laundry, cleaning and cooking to do, maybe knit, and if she found time, she would read a book after doing her daily devotion.

  When she got there, the market was crowded, but she had her usual vendors from whom she always bought her produce. She walked over to them and went through her list. She was done sooner than expected and had to start heading back home but something caught her attention.

  There was a group of women standing at a stone throw distance from them who were busy mumbling about something that she couldn't hear. The morning gossip looked and sounded juicy and couldn’t help but move closer to listen to what she was missing out on.

  Martha had never been one to gossip; she had once had big dreams for herself before getting married. She had always loved to read all sorts of book and hand thought her father would not mind if she went to the Amish local college to study law.

  But her dreams were crushed when her father chose to take his elder brother instead of her and instead pushed her to get married. Since then, her life had been lonely and lacked any form of adventure. The morning market gossip was her source of entertainment.

  “Hello Martha,” one of the town gossips greeted with a wide smile on her face.

  “Hello Anne, how are you doing today?”

  “Have you heard about Stephen?”

  “Stephen?”

  “Yes, we went to high school with him, remember?” Anne went on to describe him “He was tall, lean, did not like to wear suspenders and always got into trouble over one thing or the other.”

  Martha’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt her mouth go dry, was Anne talking about Stephen Walkins? Her secret high school boyfriend?

  “Wait, are you talking about Stephen Walkins? The outcast?”

  “One and only,” Anne confirmed.

  “What about him, is he dead?”

  “No, better he is back?”

  Martha immediately felt a chill run up her spine; she thought back to the days they used to sneak out late in the night with Stephen. His departure from the community was not a surprise to her given his erratic history, but him leaving without saying goodbye hurt her the most.

  “Back?” Martha asked and tried keeping the emotion separate from her tone of voice. “I thought the community had banned him?”

  “Yes he was, this is the classic prodigal son story,” Anne said with a giggle “From what I hear, he showed up on his father’s footstep looking and sounding remorseful.”

  “Did his father take him back in?”

  “He did, but I also hear there needs to be a cleansing prayer carried out on him before he is fully-fledged back into the community.”

  “When is that going to take place?”

  “Why? Do you want to witness it?”

  “No, I am simply curious,” Martha said defensively.

  The women went on to talk about other people and the latest gossip that was going on in the community. Martha was however distracted the whole time this conversation was going on, her mind was on Stephen. She could still feel the excitement surge through her, the same way it used to when she was with Stephen.

  “I have to go Anne,” she said and exchanged goodbyes with the rest of the ladies as well before turning her attention to Anne “I will see you at the weekly fellowship tomorrow.”

  “Yes dear, have a good day.”

  A good time was the last thing Martha knew she was going to have; her mind was already in turmoil as she thought of what she had just heard.

  Stephen had been her first love and with that her first in everything else. She had shared her first kiss with her and had had lost her virginity to him. They had dreams together one of them was running away from the community so that she could chase her dream of being a lawyer. When Stephen left, he had not only broken her heart but had also left her to a life she had not desired. She had gone into depression for quite some time before being directed to the waiting arms of Mathew.

  No one knew about her and Stephen and as much as she wanted to get all the much-deserved answers from Stephen, she knew she had to keep away from him. Years had gone by, and she was no longer the naïve, school girl she had been back then.

  The rest of the day for Martha skidded by so fast with her mind going back to her past days with Stephen. She thought of the different things they used to do with Stephen behind the yard in behind closed doors. She blushed a few times as she went through her chores and before she knew it, the day had come to an end.

  The kids were bound to get home anytime now, and she needed to prepare hot cocoa for them. They all got home at the same time, feeling and looking cheerful with Leah having all sorts of stories.

  Spending time with her kids was always important to her and unlike Mathew; they were free to tell her anything. The mood always changed however whenever Mathew walked into the room, and this instance was no exception. The room went still as his eyes hovered over the kids and Martha.

  “Jeremiah,” he called and left the room.

  Jeremiah looked into Martha’s direction as if asking for help as he followed his father to their room. The rest of the family knew what was going to happen next and to carry on with the normal conversation but was near impossible. They sat still as they listened to Mathew raise his voice at Jeremiah as his belt landed on his back. Jeremiah at the same time recited the memory verse he had not mastered in the morning as the lashing went on.

  After a few minutes of torture and listening to raised voices, a weeping child and the sound of belt meeting skin, it all came to an end. Jeremiah’s footsteps could be heard echoing in the hallway as he headed towards his room in soft sobs. Martha tightened the grip she had on the kettle that was in her hand, she remembered the one time she had tried getting between the corporal punishments from her husband to the kids and didn’t want a repeat incidence.

  She let Jeremiah cry it out as she went about her other duties, helping Leah with her homework as she fixed the evening meal.

  That night, dinner was more tense than usual; Jeremiah barely touched his food as Mathew tried to make the rest of them recite memory verses that he had assigned the week before.

  Martha was left to clean after the family once they had finished their meal; she planned for the next day’s breakfast in advance before retiring to bed. Mathew was still awake when she retired, she walked in on him polishing his shoes and went ahead to look for her night dress. She then slipped into bed before blowing off the candle that lit the room.

  She could hear him shuffle around in the darkness and also slipped in between the covers. He then placed a hand on her waist and moved her closer to him.

  “I must have you tonight,” he ordered.

  Martha obeyed. She lay in the usual position and let him have his way with her. She never needed to strip naked with Mathew; he would pull up her dress above her knees and go about his business. The sessions were always short and would take place once in a month and if lucky twice. This ritual was a practice that Martha had gotten used to; sex to her was a chore. A way of pleasing the husband and keeping him happy.

  For the first time in years, Martha found herself thinking back to how romantic Stephen was. The sneak visits behind the barn where no one could see them were always epic and fiery. The thought of Stephen excited her lady parts, and she lay back and smiled naughtily before sleep got the better of her.

  For Martha the day of temptation started like any other, she got up on time and made breakfast for her kids and Mathew. Sh
e then sat on the dining table and listened to Mathew go on and on about how God should be the head of the family. She later took her kids to the bus stop where they were off to school and got back home. She didn’t have a lot of chores to do and decided to go on a therapeutic walk collecting berries.

  After saying hi to a few of the women in the community who were strolling along and filling each other in on the latest gossip, Martha took a different route. She needed to be alone that day; she wanted to be left to her thoughts and not think of anything or anyone but herself.

  Her favorite spot in the nearby woods were hardly occupied, with her basket well tucked under her arm and a head scarf tied on her head hiding all her hair, Martha got to work.

  She was an expert at this, picking the right berries came easily to her. She thought of the jam she would make from the berries before her thoughts were interrupted and she had to stand still on her ground.

  No one ever came to that part of the woods and she automatically assumed there was a rabbit in the nearby shrub. Without making much of a noise, Martha walked over to the shrub quietly hoping she will be able to catch the rabbit for her younger son Jeremiah. The site that befell Martha was however shocking, a strange smell filled her nostrils and went straight through her throat and burnt her lungs. Martha panicked, she could see the smoke but not the fire and with a loud shriek turned on her heel and started yelling “Fire.”

  She was about to repeat the same words a second time, perhaps louder, but a hand circled her wrist abruptly. Standing right before her was Stephen, he had a cigarette on one hand and looked placed a finger on his mouth as a way of silencing Martha.

  “Please don’t scream, it’s only this,” he said and lifted his cigarette in reference to his words.

  “Stephen!” Martha asked shocked “what are you...?”

  She looked at the cigarette that was in his hand and looked at him straight in the eye. She had been avoiding him ever since she had heard of his return to the community and tried her best not to run into him.

  “Martha, my love you have not aged a day, you still look seventeen years of age,” Stephen said and moved closer to her. He pulled her into a tight embrace and much to Stephen’s surprise she did not resist.

  His touch on her was electric almost magical, she could not remember the last time Mathew had placed his hands on her so lovingly, and she loved it. After a few seconds of indulging in the sin of lust, Martha took a step away from Stephen and landed a hot slap across his face without warning.

  Stephen was shocked by the gesture and let out a slight chuckle.

  “I deserved that,” he said and rubbed his chin with the same naughty look displayed on his face. “How have you been?”

  Martha looked at him and wondered how to answer the question; she liked how he went on smoking despite the fact that he had run into her and did not look scared. Age had been kind on Stephen, he had grown into an attractive man, she went on to look at his attire and almost let out a hearty laughter. Suspenders had never been his thing, but he was wearing them and wearing them well.

  “Mind putting that out?” Martha asked as he looked at the cigarette that was in his hand. He brought it to his mouth, puffed one last smoke from it before throwing it to the ground and stomping on it. Martha let out a smile, not because he had put out the cigarette but because he had listened to him. Mathew never listened to anything she said, and a change of that coming from a different man exhilarated her.

  “Mind if we have a seat?” Stephen asked and pointed to the back of a large tree trunk where he had hidden first.

  Martha looked over her shoulder wondering if anyone saw them. She knew it was wrong going behind the trunk with Stephen now that she was a married woman. There was not knowing who was watching them.

  “Come on Martha,” he said and pulled her closer. “I do not bite.”

  The words had a nostalgic ring to it, she immediately remember who he would tell her that whenever he wanted to kiss her and placed a hand over her very fast beating heart.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this”, Martha said and without knowing started to back-pedal on the same way she had come.

  Stephen pulled at her again and clung to her risk, before Martha could protest; he pulled her closer to him and indulged her in a long passionate kiss. His breathe reeked of nicotine from the cigarette he had been smoking and Martha shamelessly responded. Her first instinct was to run and head on back home, but when Stephen started rubbing his hands all over her back, but she grew weak. She wanted him, and without warning a moan escaped her dry throat.

  After indulging in her sinful pleasure for about a minute or so, Martha pulled away from him and with her basket of wild berries still tucked under her arms fled.

  “Same time tomorrow,” Stephen called after her as she disappeared and headed back on the same way she had come from. Her heart was arcing and so was her blood, once she was sure she was beyond the vicinity, Martha stood her ground and tried to catch her breath.

  “I love Mathew”, she said to herself. “I love my husband.”

  She placed a hand on her sweaty forehead and paced up and down trying to delete the picture of Stephen’s lips on her from her mind. After letting the wind playing with her scarf and feeling that she was now in control, Martha started heading back to the house.

  She had collected a good number of berries for anyone to suspect anything but felt like everyone was already judging her. Shivers ran travel up and down her back, making her feel even more guilty.

  “I should not have gone so close to him,” she thought to herself that evening as she was preparing the evening meal. “The Bible says: "Flee fornication, I should have run like the wind.”

  Other than continuously reminiscing over the kiss she had just shared with her high school sweetheart, the rest of the night took up a familiar routine, the one she had gotten used to all these years.

  After making sure everyone was well fed and ready for the next day’s schedule, Martha retired to bed. Mathew was already in bed but had not yet drifted off to sleep. She climbed in next to him after dressing in her night dress and covered herself with the woolen blanket they used.

  This night was different for Martha; she twisted and turned in her bed in torment as she thought of the kiss she had shared with Stephen earlier in the day. It had awoken something in her, she thought she’d lost a long time ago. She looked at Mathew. The thought of approaching him was bizarre, something she had never tried to do in her marriage. She wondered what Mathew would say or how he would react if she made the first move. Without giving it much of a second move, Martha turned to her side. Mathew was still up and was staring at nothing in particular in the dark.

  Maybe, she thought, just maybe.

  She moved closer to him and placed her hand across his hairy chest and waited for his response. Mathew did not react; she took this as a red light and moved closer to him bringing her head down on his chest.

  “Martha,” he called out in shock “What are you doing?”

  Martha, all of a sudden, grew embarrassed and thanked her lucky stars he could not see the scarlet red blush that had overcome her face.

  “Nothing, never mind”, she answered and turned to her side of the bed. She could feel hot tears well up in her eyes but held it back. She didn’t want to show him how weak she was. She flickered her eyes in the dark for a few seconds before letting sleep get the better of her.

  Just before she could drift off to slumber land, Martha thought back to the woods and this time fantasized on something more than just the kiss they had shared.

  *****

  The woods all looked the same to her the next day as she walked through them heading to the same spot she had been in the previous day. She stopped several times to look behind her shoulder checking if anyone was following her.

  Martha was not sure why she had showed up that day, part of the reason came from Mathew’s rejection as another part came from curiosity. She had a lot of questions for Stephen and n
eeded to get her answers.

  Much to her disappointed the hiding place was empty when she got there, disappointed, Martha turned on her heel and begun to walk back. Her steps were frozen for a minute however when she heard Stephen’s familiar voice and the cigarette scent that came with it.

  “You showed up,” he asked.

  Martha immediately felt excited, and the tone of his voice warmed her up. She looked at him approaching from a distance and seemed to remember her request from the day before. He threw the cigarette to the floor and stomped on it with his right foot before turning her attention to Martha.

  “Where to you get those?” Martha pointed to the cigarette in his hand.

  “I have my sources.”

  “Why do you do it?”

  He took in a deep breath as if her question placed a load on his shoulder.

  “After what I have been through, it is amazing that this is the only thing I am taking.”

  Martha could tell there was a story behind his words and wanted nothing more but to hear it, but she had other more important issues to settle with him.

  “Stephen, why did you leave me?”

  Stephen had certainly not expected such questions and did not bother to hide his surprise.

  “Do you really want to go there?”

  “I don’t see anywhere else we would rather go.”

  Stephen looked down on the cigarette he had stumped on the ground regretted his action. Martha was still waiting for her answer and from the look on her face; she did not need any lies.

  “You were young Martha.”

  “So were you and you still left?”

  “My case was different.”

  “How so?”

  Stephen let out another shrug and looked at Martha wondering how to explain himself.

  “It would have been easier to take care of myself than the two of us out there.”

  “That sounds selfish.”

  “It is not,” Stephen corrected “It’s one of the most selfless gestures I have ever done.”

  “You left me, Stephen,” Martha said trying not to sound too emotional “I don’t see how that is selfless.”

 

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