Willa and the Trapper

by Sharon Ryan

  She looked beautiful in the soft, dim light. The dark green of her dress accentuated her tawny brown hair and made her green eyes look like fresh meadow grass. Shamus took off his coat and draped it over a chair and said, “You just sit down here while I go build up the fire for us.”

  Willa sat down on top of the heavy quilt that covered the bed, but she would have rather paced the floor. She was nervous and unsettled now that she and Shamus were all alone and married. Since the stove fire didn’t need much coaxing, Shamus added a few dry branches to get the fire dancing and was standing in front of Willa within a few seconds.

  “Stand up and let me help you with your dress,” he said. She stood up, and he began to work the buttons of her waistcoat open. He carefully slipped the jacket off her strong, straight shoulders and carefully folded and laid it over the back of a chair.

  “Turn around for me, lass,” he said. Willa turned her back to him, and he worked free the hooks that held her skirt. He let it slump to the floor and then held Willa’s hand as she stepped out of it. She faced him, looking lovely in her camisole and petticoat. He made a quiet whistle. “Beautiful,” he said, “and all mine.” As he pulled her close to embrace her, Willa blushed and looked down, suddenly feeling quite shy.

  “Don’t worry, lass, we are going to take this slowly and carefully. It’s new territory for both of us,” he said to reassure her. Willa began to unpin her hair and Shamus watched her as he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it over her wedding dress; then, he embraced her tightly. She could feel his muscular body through her cotton undergarments. Shamus untied the ribbons that tightened them. Willa felt her final layer slip away.

  “Oh, my,” she gasped as she tried to dive underneath the quilt. Shamus caught her, scooped her up into his arms and lay her on top of the covers – completely naked. After a long, admiring gaze, he said, “You must be freezing. Better get under that quilt.”

  Relieved, Willa obeyed. Shamus was immediately beside her. The fire was now bright and cast a calming light across the room. Shamus leaned on one elbow and looked at Willa’s face. She was clearly nervous and uncertain. He gave her a reassuring smile as he drew her close, kissing her.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered and began to caress her back, her hips, her shapely rear. He lay on his back and she lay her head upon his shoulder. She was shaking, so he let her rest there for a little while, just until she began to relax. He then kissed her passionately as he moved his hands over her back once again, and then over her entire body. Willa was trembling now, not out of uncertainty, but out of desire. She circled her arms around his neck as he moved over her, and Shamus took great care as he entered her. Willa was overwhelmed by an initial discomfort and then amazed by the sensation of him inside of her, filling her, completing her, yet she was keenly aware of a definite awkwardness. She immediately understood that it would take time to become comfortable with this new aspect of their new relationship.

  Shamus held her once the final rite of marriage was complete. Willa found that her favorite part of their first night together was drifting off to sleep, warm and safe, with Shamus holding her tightly as she watched the fire burn down to cold embers

  Willa woke as the late October dawn slipped through the small window of the sod house. She snuggled deep into the comfort of the heavy quilt and wool blankets and watched Shamus as he slept beside her. Willa moved closer to the sleeping man, her husband now. Her mind flitting to last night and the intimacy they had shared before sleep lulled her away from him. She gently lay her hand against his cheek and let herself enjoy the slight prickle of his russet scruff. Shamus’ deep blue eyes fluttered open. He looked intently, happily upon Willa.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Harding,” he beamed.

  “Good morning, Shamus,” Willa crooned and then sighed contentedly. “It’s early yet. We can stay here and be warm for a little while longer.”

  “You stay here. Stay cozy and snug. I’ll be right back,” he said as he pulled her close, giving her a deep and lingering kiss.

  Willa admired his muscular back and finely shaped rear as her husband got up from their bed. He grabbed the blanket he kept at his campsite and wrapped it around his naked form before he started padding toward the door.

  “Promise to stay put,” he told Willa. Then he beckoned Sandy to follow him. Shamus let the pup go outside, and he stoked up the embers of the fire they had enjoyed watching burn down after they made love for the first time last night. The festivities after the wedding carried on well into the night. It was quite late before Willa and Shamus entered the sod house alone, and while Shamus had tried to give Willa a wonderful first night of marital pleasure, they were both tired. He knew he could better pleasure her when they were both rested and fresh.

  Shamus stoked up the fire, letting last night’s embers lick the fresh wood and dance under it until it burst into flame. He then moved to the door. Sandy bounded in as he opened it. He directed the pup to lie down by the fire and then draped his blanket over a chair and slipped beneath the quilt and next to a sleeping Willa.

  She lay naked, and he let his strong hands trace the line of her spine and move over her shoulders.

  “Oh, my,” Willa murmured as she stretched her slender, yet strong arms out from under the covers.

  Shamus pulled her close and buried his face into her neck where he kissed her gently.

  “You know,” he whispered into her ear, “we were pretty tired last night. It was a wonderful day for a new beginning. I want you to greet this first day of our being together with a different kind of anticipation.”

  Willa felt Shamus’ hand move over her ribcage and settle on her breast. His other hand spanned her belly, and she could feel him press his hardness, his desire, against her buttocks. Willa let herself be carried away by the pleasurable feelings he was creating for her. She reached behind her head and curved her arm around his neck. As she did so, Shamus’ mouth found hers, and they shared a deeply intimate kiss.

  Shamus pulled back to look at her. “Mrs. Harding, Mrs. Willa Harding, I swear that I am and will always be acting in your best interests no matter what life hands us.”

  He brushed his hand lightly over her stomach and then further down, and she gasped when he placed it right between her legs. Willa felt like the fire Shamus just lit to warm the house had become part of her. She moaned deeply, and Shamus moved over her, pressed against her and enjoyed feeling Willa squirm in excited anticipation. She briefly felt a twinge of unease and shyness about enjoying this unfamiliar dynamic. She marveled at how she felt compelled to open herself to him so completely.

  Shamus entered her and moved with care until she cried out and her fingers dug into his shoulders as if they had a will of their own. He let himself utter a muffled gasp as they both shuddered, and he collapsed next to her. She turned her head toward him, her eyes glowing with passion.

  “Now that’s a good start to our first day,” he said, his eyes dancing. “And, Mrs. Harding… I love you.”

  Willa poured the freshly ground coffee into the kettle and set it on the cast-iron stove to boil. She then broke an egg open, crushed the shells and blended it with a bit of salt and water. Putting the concoction aside, she began mixing up baking powder biscuits and stoked up the fire in the stove as she prepared to bake them. By the time the coffee started to boil, the biscuits were in the oven baking. She deftly fried up a bit of fresh sausage, and after mixing in some flour and milk, she quickly walked over to the window for a glance outside as she waited for the gravy to thicken. She quietly observed how Shamus was working through feeding the stock, gathering eggs, and milking Buttercup while Sandy excitedly romped nearby. Shamus was seeing to all of the chores Willa had thrown herself into each and every day since Clay’s death.

  Preparing a hot, sit-down breakfast was luxurious, and Willa realized how long it had truly been since she looked forward to sitting down with someone friendly at her table. She was especially happy that the friend was Shamus.


  Willa could smell the biscuits and could hear the coffee gurgling in a low, slow boil. Breakfast would be ready soon. She was looking forward to plating it and setting it before her husband, hoping that Shamus would gobble the food and eye her with appreciation. An appreciation that wasn’t quite like it had been earlier that morning. Willa felt the heat rise up the back of her neck, under her hair, and into her cheeks as she turned back to the stove. The gravy had thickened. She pulled the biscuits from the oven and poured the egg mixture into the kettle to clarify the coffee. She bounced over to the window just in time to see Shamus and Sandy walking toward the house.

  “His timing is perfect,” Willa thought.

  “Between our foray into wedded bliss this morning and the fresh air I felt while doing chores, I am famished,” Shamus boasted as he came inside.

  “Good,” Willa chirped. “I’ve put together a little spread that should satisfy your well-earned hunger.”

  Shamus walked over and embraced her. “Never,” he growled and buried his face into her neck. “I will never be completely satisfied,” he murmured as Willa squirmed in his grasp.

  “That tickles,” she said, as she pulled free, beaming.

  “A warm breakfast is a rare treat. Thank you, Willa,” Shamus said as he pushed his chair back from the table and reached for the coffee pot.

  “Married life suits you,” he continued. “Your coffee was always pretty good, but this morning, I have to say you have perfected it.”

  “It turns out better when you can give it a little bit of time,” she said simply.

  “Yes, I suppose having less to do helps. You know, we should make some kind of plan as to how we are going to divvy up chores now that you don’t have to do them all by yourself,” he said as he leaned over to fill Willa’s cup.

  “I won’t know what to do with all of my free time,” she said while leveling a flirty glance at him over her cup.

  “I have a few ideas,” he replied raising an eyebrow, his eyes dancing.

  The sun was up now, and the night’s frost had melted away with the daylight. The temperature climbed from being cold enough to see one’s breath to warm enough to shed one’s jacket.

  “We won’t have too many days like this before the cold sets in for the entire day. I figure I should get to work on building up that woodpile. You are welcome to join me as more hands make less work,” Shamus said as he looked around his new quarters.

  Until now, he hadn’t really noticed how disheveled Willa’s space was. Shamus realized that she had probably fallen behind on her domestic work. She had kept good order in her small home when Sneed was lurking around because she had to maintain appearances. With wedding preparations and Willa getting herself ready to brace for the coming winter, Shamus could certainly understand how Willa had let her surroundings fall into disarray.

  “I think I will stay here and tidy up,” Willa said to Shamus’ relief. “It’s a bit of a treat to pay attention to things in here, and I will need to plan our first supper as a married couple. I think I will set some dried peas to soak and cook them up with that ham-hock that’s in the root cellar. A bit of cornbread alongside—and we will have a perfect supper,” she said.

  “I like how you think,” Shamus said as he grabbed his hat and coat and stepped toward the door, Sandy following closely at his heels.

  It was dark when Shamus returned with the last load of wood. The days were getting shorter, and the cold set in decisively once the sun started to sink behind the mountains. Even with his buckskin gloves, his fingers were starting to sting with the chill. He noticed that Sandy’s fur was puffed out. The pup was cold as well. Shamus pitched the last bunch of logs he’d split onto the top of the growing stack. He had put in a day’s work and was ready for a hearty meal, a warm cup of coffee by the heated stove, and another smoldering encounter with his beautiful wife. This new life was already shaping up nicely, he thought. Their future together was certain to be both content and exciting.

  After a hearty dinner, Willa and Shamus sat close to each other as they cradled the warm tin cups in their hands. The oil lamp cast a soft dim light around their small quarters. They had both enjoyed a full and productive day of work and appreciated their tired relaxation that resulted from the effort. Willa marveled that she felt tired, rather than exhausted, and was acutely aware of Shamus’ proximity. Both were anticipating lying next to each other, eager and burning in those places known only to lovers.

  Willa looked up from her coffee, saw Shamus gazing upon her and smiled.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, hoping that she already knew.

  “That I might interest you in a little tussle under the quilt,” he answered as he brushed his hand along her forearm.

  Willa set her cup down as he gathered her up and carried her to their bed. Shamus then began to press his hands along Willa’s strong back. He could feel the day’s work in her knotted muscles. He caressed her, felt her relax and wondered what other tensions he might relieve.

  He untied her apron and began to unbutton her blouse. Willa’s eyes softened as he pulled back the calico to reveal her bare, pert breasts and bent his head toward her while he whisked his tongue around her nipple.

  Willa, already feeling aroused by his touch, involuntarily gasped as Shamus began to release the hooks holding her skirt. Carefully freeing her from both her skirt and her drawers, he stepped back to admire her naked form as he began to disrobe. Willa felt vulnerable under his direct gaze and began to gather the quilt to herself.

  “No,” Shamus insisted. “I like what I see and want to enjoy the view a while longer.”

  He stepped out of his leather breeches and moved next to Willa, who hadn’t felt brazen enough to look on Shamus’ naked form. She quietly gasped as her eyes moved to and then stopped at his large desire for her.

  “Oh, my,” she muttered as he fully embraced her, and she felt the entire length of him press against her thigh. Shamus reached up and tipped Willa’s chin toward him. He captured her lips with his. Their mouths sought each other, hungrily.

  Willa shuddered as he moved his hands over her skin, and she moaned deeply when she felt his hand move squarely between her legs. Heat blazed through Willa as Shamus thrust into her. They moved into the fire they had created in the moment and continued like that until neither could stand the tension. Then release. Then quiet.

  Willa felt herself come back from her ecstasy to the sensation of the warm bed, the quiet fire in the stove, a strong and capable Shamus. He gathered her close, and Willa crumpled into a deep and restful sleep.

  Chapter 12

  Close to a month later, Shamus sat at their wooden table drinking black coffee and eating cactus jelly spread lightly over a piece of a hard day-old biscuit. The jelly tasted almost of cedar and spice, and it was not terribly sweet, as Shamus had expected and hoped, he had always had a sweet tooth, ever since he was little. Instead, he found the jelly was slightly bitter. Willa still slept, and Shamus had thus prepared his own meager breakfast before his day’s trials.

  “Getting late,” Shamus said to himself, disappointed, as he gazed at the sleeping Willa, who had clearly become accustomed to allowing her husband to do more than his fair share of household chores. He wanted to be angry at her about not making his food for him first thing in the morning after all, Shamus had a full day of farm work and then trapping ahead of him. He thought Willa would assist by preparing a morning meal and kissing him goodbye before he left. Nonetheless, as he watched Willa, dreaming soundlessly in bliss next to Sandy, he was struck by Willa’s beauty and felt like the luckiest man in northern Colorado, if not the world. She inhaled a breath. She exhaled a breath. She moaned. Shamus hoped Willa was dreaming of his strong hands, his muscles, his manly scent. Shamus smiled at his new wife: proud and delighted.

  “Sleep, my beautiful Mrs. Harding,” he told her. Then, he slowly kissed her forehead and caressed her warm pink cheeks.

  Shamus walked around the small house and from the two
windows, he noticed how the light snow, the first of the coming winter, had graced the lean-to with its seemingly pure presence. The sod house, he again noticed, was in disarray: dirty cans sat near the front door, a few beets rested clumsily on the table, and Willa left her underthings near the bed. “Holy hell! It’s such a small space. Most certainly time to teach this woman about some simple organization,” he thought.

  A few nights before, Shamus had left a few fox traps in the lean-to, as a shopkeeper in town had clients who wanted fox-fur coats for the winter. The catch would bring the new Harding family a little extra income. Shamus made sure that the traps were organized his way, stacked carefully on top of each other. Someone, obviously Willa, had moved them. Shamus had to find them, and this would add a few minutes to his morning’s work. The man, calm until now, felt a slight sense of anger rising inside him. His wife’s lack of respect felt like a betrayal. His face turned a deep red as he walked toward the horse corral and tack room. The stallion looked at its new master and backed into a corner, slowly. As Shamus walked around the lean-to, he saw how the whip was no longer on its hook. He thought Willa would take it upon herself to care for the animal since Shamus had been otherwise preoccupied with gathering wood. Further, Willa had not cleaned the stallion’s stall in at least two days; hay and wood were stacked haphazardly. Shamus, disgusted, began to shake. Yes, he wanted to scream.

  In fact, the traps were not in the lean-to at all. Willa had moved them outside, behind the sod house. Heavy snow covered the metal boxes, so Shamus would have to clean and dry them before he could set them.

  “No, I will not let this stand, not in my house,” he mumbled to himself. “That woman needs to keep a clean house and lean-to. I shall not be taking on all the work—not by myself.”