by Maggie Ryan
The gathering watched as Agatha reached up, her palm moving to cup his cheek, their roles changed as she comforted him with just her touch.
A small, golden-haired child slipped from her father's lap and approached the couple. "Anna will make you feel better," Becca said. "She gives good hugs."
The sweet purity of the innocent child's words as she offered her doll, had the atmosphere changing. Tension was swept away as Agatha reached not for the doll, but for the little girl, drawing her down onto her lap.
"Thank you, sweetie. I'm very blessed to have both Anna and you to hug me." She gave the girl a hug and looked around. "I've very blessed to have all of you. Thank you. I know this was supposed to be a special day for you and your children. I'm so sorry…"
"Don't," Charity said, her own cheeks showing tracks of tears. "I'd never let someone like him touch a single hair on my children's heads! You have absolutely nothing to apologize for!"
Wyatt nodded, also looking around the crowd. "If this is the sort of man the town wants for a spiritual leader, I promise we'll never walk through those doors again. I'll walk through the fires of hell before exposing my wife to such hatred."
"I've never been a churchgoer," Roger said, "but I know a building does not make a church. I have never felt closer to the Lord than when I'm out in His world seated on the back of a horse."
Harriet nodded and smiled, lifting her hands. "We don't need a building. The Lord says, 'Where one or more is gathered in my name, I am there.' He is here, in every one of us, in every breath of air we take." She paused and then repeated the verse. "We have our own church right here."
"Yes, we'll teach nothing but love and kindness," said Anna.
"Forgiveness," added Charity.
"Hope," Teresa Goldman said from her seat beside Roger.
The tension lessened even more when Charity's eldest daughter turned to Teresa and said, "Hope," as she pointed to her own small chest.
With smiles, the others began to speak, each testifying softly. "The Lord does not want us to hate. He wants us to love each other. He wants his children to help and support one another," Thomas Stanford said.
His wife, Hannah, her arms around each of her sons, spoke next. "Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love."
They did have their own service. There were no raised voices, no sermon, no damnation, no walls. Instead, the grove of trees was their sanctuary, the sky their ceiling, and their testimonials their lesson.
The temperature was dropping and the cold beginning to seep into their bones. Parents didn't scold as children began to squirm. Agatha made the first move as she helped Becca off her lap and then stood. They gathered in a large circle, hands reaching for another's. They prayed, not with heads lowered, or with eyes closed. Instead, faces were lifted to the sky. No pleas were uttered, no favors were asked, no requests given. Individual voices spoke softly, every word given was in thanks for their blessings, for God's love and guidance. When they chorused, 'Amen', Wyatt watched as Agatha was surrounded by the people who loved her for exactly who she was. As he finally moved away to speak to Samuel, he knew she was safe; no harm could come to her or to any of them in the midst of this incredible group of people.
As Wyatt lifted his wife onto the wagon seat again after thanking everyone, he wondered how long it would take before he heard the question he was dreading. His arm was draped around her as he held her to his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Richard's wagon followed as they returned to the ranch, the occupants waving as they split off towards their cabins.
It wasn't until they were driving towards their house that Agatha spoke. "I-I didn't see Ma."
Wyatt nodded, it was the question he'd been waiting for. "I didn't either, though I wasn't sure if it was only because all I saw was you. I asked Samuel. He said that Wallace had no one with him when he rode into town." He paused and pulled her a bit closer. "I'm sorry, Aggy. I don't know what that means."
She was quiet again until he pulled up and stopped in their yard. "I just hope that-that she is okay. I miss her so much." He lifted her from the wagon and she laid her cheek on his chest. "I love you, Wyatt. I love you so much."
"As I do you." They stood for a few moments and then Agatha pulled away.
"Thank you—"
"Shh, there is no need to thank me."
"I thank you anyway," she said, going up on her tiptoes to kiss him gently. When she pulled away, his heart caught in his throat at her smile.
"This really is our church," she said, lifting her hand. "How could anyone doubt God's love or desire for his children to be happy? A hateful God could not have created something so beautiful and so delicate as a snowflake."
Wyatt looked up to see fat flakes falling from the sky. Winter was finally here and yet, with this woman in his heart and with friends who stood beside them, he knew they'd be protected from the type of cold that seeped into a soul that froze all hope, all light, and all love. He said another prayer of thanks and then bent to kiss his wife, his gift from God again, tasting the purity of their love as well as the snowflakes that were on her lips.
Chapter Fifteen
Agatha ate her lunch seated on her husband's lap, her insistence that she was fine causing him to smile.
"You might be, but I just need to hold you."
By the time they went outside again, it was to see a world transformed. Snow continued to fall in a dense curtain, and the ground was covered in a white blanket that was growing thicker by the hour.
"It's so beautiful," Agatha said with a smile.
"It is. I'm just glad it held off until we were ready," Wyatt said, "I know ya'll are from Missouri, and used to snow, but we don't get much in Texas. It will be interesting for me to see how the herd handles it. Hey, maybe you can make some little booties and—" He turned back to her only to gasp as cold splattered against his neck.
"Oh no, you didn't," he said, brushing snow off his skin and licking it from his lips. "Only naughty little girls…" He yelped as another snowball hit him. "That's it, you are going to get your butt spanked."
Agatha squealed and ducked away when he reached for her. Snowballs began to fly, some meeting their targets, but most missing as their bodies ducked and twisted to avoid the missiles. Agatha ducked behind the chicken coop, scooping up snow and forming a snowball as fast as she could, the sound of her rooster crowing and his harem squawking not able to cover her laughter.
She gasped and then gave a strangled half-laugh, half-scream when a large hand full of snow was pressed against her face. "Do you give?" Wyatt asked, easily holding her in the air, her feet finding no purchase as they kicked.
"Never!" she said, the snowball she'd managed not to lose finding its way down the back of his shirt.
"Jesus!" Wyatt hollered, dancing in place as he held her with only one arm, his other hand trying to pull his shirt from his pants in order to free the snow. "That's cold!"
Agatha tried to squirm down his body but quickly found her husband's grip tightening. Deciding that perhaps she'd gone a bit too far, she wrapped her arms around his chest.
"I'm sorry, it just slipped…" Her heart began to pound when his head dipped, his eyes finding hers. The look in them had her stomach squirming.
"Sure it did," he teased, letting her slip down until her feet touched the ground. "So, darlin', you will understand when my hand just happens to slip down…"
He didn't need to finish his statement as she surged up onto her toes, not having felt his lifting of her skirt but definitely feeling his ice-cold hand as he slid it down the back of her bloomers to cup a cheek.
"Eeek, stop!" she squealed, dancing on her feet in her attempt to pull away.
"Oh, you wish to dance?" he said, earning another sharp squeal as his other hand cupped her other buttock.
"Wyatt!"
"Yes, my love?"
"Your hands are freezing!"
"Not for long," he said, squeezing her bottom. "They are warming up quite nicely th
ank you."
She squirmed another moment or two and then stilled, her blood racing and her body warming as he continued to caress her. She moaned when a finger slipped into the crevice separating her globes.
"Cold now?" he asked, huskily, his head dipping to ask the question against her ear.
"Oh, Wyatt."
"Chores can wait," he declared, lifting her again until she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Someone needs their backside heated."
Hearing the chickens cluck, she lifted her head. "The chickens need to be moved. We need to finish the indoor coop," she reminded him, not too sure if her husband really intended to spank her.
"Not until I finish warming my wife," he countered, already halfway to the house.
"But I was just playing."
"And so will I," he said, squeezing her cheeks again, "so will I."
Once in the bedroom, it seemed like a race to see who could shed their clothing the fastest. Agatha won by a mere second and ripped back the covers, diving beneath them and pulling them up to her chin, squealing again when they were instantly pulled down as Wyatt joined her. She reached for the covers but he chuckled.
"Cold?"
"Yes," she said, her nipples tightly puckered, goosebumps covering the rest of her skin.
"Let me see if I can fix that, shall I?"
"How?" she asked, trying to decide exactly what he'd meant by 'play'. She discovered his answer when he pulled her over his knees after scooting up to sit against the headboard.
"I was teasing!" she protested. "You don't need to spank me!"
"Yes, darlin', I do," Wyatt countered. His hand caressed her chilled skin. "Since I was the one to cause this beautiful ass to chill, it is only fair that I be the one who warms it, don't you agree?"
Agatha was torn between the need for his warmth and her trepidation of how it was to be delivered. As his palm slid across her bare flesh, she forgot her reluctance and pushed her hips up.
"I'll take that as a yes," he murmured, bending to kiss her cheek. She melted across him, her body warming with desire. "Poor little bottom," Wyatt said, "so pale. Warmth means color, and the color of that warming fire is what?"
"Pink?" Agatha said, turning her head back and giving him a grin. "I seem to remember hearing you say you loved a pretty pale pink."
His laughter and his quirked eyebrow had her giggling, and the remaining horror of how the day had started evaporated. The only person whose opinion of her mattered was this man. The man she'd wed and the man she was learning loved her and all her flaws with all of his heart.
"I suppose we can start with pink," Wyatt said, his hand lifting to deliver a soft swat to each cheek. "Yes, I can agree with that. A nice pale pink and then, my love, a nice warm red."
Agatha sighed, laying her cheek on her folded hands as his palms worked their magic. Every swat was followed by a caress, and every caress had her lust building. Without being instructed, she parted her legs, opening herself to whatever her husband wished to do.
Minutes passed, her bottom warming until she understood why Charity had actually asked for more. Her body craved more, demanded more.
"Harder," she said, "please, harder."
The swats began to come harder and faster, with the caresses coming after every set of two to each cheek. When they were enough to make her gasp, she made no attempt to swim off his lap. She pushed her bottom up to meet his palm, able to feel both the moisture that was seeping from her and his growing erection against her hip. Her moans filled the air as crisp smacks brought them forth.
"Open your legs wider," Wyatt instructed, and she instantly obeyed. When his hand moved to cup her sex, she felt a surge of liquid moving into her core. When his hand moved and then swatted her swollen lips, she arched and groaned.
"Oh… oh, Wyatt."
"More?"
"Yes, oh, yes."
Her taut nipples rubbed against the sheet as her body squirmed. His hand moved to swat her right buttock, then to cup her sex, his fingers slipping and sliding through her wetness, and, when she pushed back against him, she moaned in frustration when the hand disappeared to swat her left buttock before the smack she craved was delivered against her pussy. The fire he'd promised was building as flames licked at her skin and embers of need burned within her depths. After another repeat of the pattern, she felt her climax building.
"I need… I want…"
"I want you to come for me," Wyatt said, his hand never missing a beat as he delivered another swat.
"But you… I need…"
"I need you to come for me, Aggy," he said, his fingers sliding again across her swollen clit. "Come, come now."
She tried to fight it, wanting him inside her, and yet when he continued to both swat, caress and urge her to come, she could no longer hold back. Her head arched back and she called out his name as he brought her to orgasm. His fingers slid into her, filling her, stroking in and out until she was mewling, her fingers clawing at the sheets and she came again, bucking on his lap.
"That's it, so beautiful," he said, his voice low. "I love to make you come apart. I love to watch you explode."
When he slid his fingers from her, she whimpered, pushing her hips up despite the fact that she'd come twice. "Shh," he said, sliding his fingers from her pussy to her puckered rosette. "I'm not through playing. I'm not through warming you."
She gasped and then tensed when he began to push a finger into her bottom. "Relax, Aggy, I've got you." And she knew he did.
His finger continued until it was buried deep and she had a moment of intense shame when she realized that it felt good, a soft sound of uncertainty escaping her lips.
"No, don't think," Wyatt said, sliding his finger back and forth. "Just feel, just let me love you."
Closing her eyes, she pushed the thought of sin away and remembered that this man loved her and she him. She had no doubt that he'd die to protect her. She knew he'd not ever harm her. Allowing her body to relax, she submitted to him, and when he pulled out only to add another finger, she gasped, unable to hold back a small whimper and yet didn't attempt to pull away. Two thick fingers moved in her, stretching her, only coming free to gather more of her copious cream before pushing into her again. His free hand moved over her skin, caressing the reddened globes of her ass and moving down her legs and up her back to caress her neck.
"Please," she whispered. "I need you inside me."
"Where?" he asked, his fingers continuing to move.
"There," she confessed, "in my… my bottom."
She wondered if she'd made a mistake about his intentions when he slid his fingers free and moved her from his lap. "I-I'm sorry."
"Don't ever apologize for stating what you need, Aggy," Wyatt said, bending forward to kiss her. "I want that, too, I just need to make sure we do it right."
She nodded, watching as he moved off the bed, her heart lurching at the sight of his erection. Her body, her heart, her soul needed to feel him take her, love her, fill her. When he returned to the bed, he had a small jar in his hand that she'd never seen before. It wasn't the same jar that held the cream he smoothed over her bottom after a spanking.
"What's that?"
"An emollient," he answered, opening the jar and holding it out. "It's to lubricate you and my cock to make penetration easier."
"Oh. Will it hurt?"
"Did my fingers hurt?"
She could feel her face heat and her stomach flip at the question. She also realized that she missed the feeling of fullness in her bottom, and though part of her was sure that wasn't a proper thought, she wanted to be filled again.
"No, well, a little at first, but not later," she admitted.
"My cock is larger than my fingers," he said, and she couldn't stop her eyes from dropping to his sex. She had to suppress a smile thinking how unnecessary that statement was. When she lifted her eyes again, it was to find him smiling.
"I just mean that as much nectar as you provide, I want to be sure to make this as comfo
rtable as possible for you."
She nodded and when his fingers moved to dip into the jar, she reached up to stop him. "May I?" His eyes widened as if never expecting such a request. "Please?"
"I'd love that." He held the jar as she dipped two fingers into the unguent, rubbing her fingertips together as she experienced the lubricant for the first time. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before but as she began to apply it to his shaft, rubbing her fingers across every inch, her sex began to pulse as his cock lengthened and swelled even further.
"Will… how will it fit?"
"Beautifully," he answered, and she knew that despite his size and her disbelief, she was ready.
With his cock slick, he lay down on his side, guiding her into position. "Just relax. We'll go slowly. Tell me if you need me to stop."
"Okay," she said, her heart rate increasing as he pushed one leg up towards her chest and she felt one hand moving to pull a globe away from its twin. "Oh," she exclaimed as she felt his finger returning, this time with a glob of the jar's contents. He began to work it into her with his finger, removing it to add more of the lubricant, pressing two and then three fingers deep into her passage. By the time she felt his cockhead placed against her opening, she was truly ready.
Her first cry came as he began to press into her and he immediately stilled. "No… it's okay," she whispered.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, it just burns a little."
The arm around her waist pulled her a little tighter to his chest and she reached for his hand. Their fingers entwined before he pressed forward. The burn intensified and the stretch required to accept him had her whimpering but she didn't ask him to stop. His progress was excruciatingly slow, and with a final cry she couldn't suppress, he slid past her inner ring of muscles.
"Okay?" he whispered against her neck. Her hand squeezed his as she nodded. A kiss against her shoulder was given as he continued to fill her until he was buried fully. "God, you feel incredible, like velvet warmth."
His words filled her heart as his cock filled her body. He made love to her slowly, every move building her need until she was matching his movements. Her bottom pressed against his groin in silent conversation that every set of lovers since time's beginning understood.