The Major's Wife

by The Major's Wife (lit)

  “Nonsense. What is it?”

  He mumbled as he spoke. “Horse. One of the ones wounded in the fighting yesterday.”

  Lucretia felt herself gag, but she fought it down. It was a horse. So what? she thought. Is it much different from a cow or a rabbit? Yes, it was. She was ravenous, but doubted she could eat any of it. Thinking so, she found another potato to wash for the fire. She would have a second potato. That would do just fine.

  The men from outside the gate wandered in singly and in pairs. She pointed to a bucket of water warming by the fire pit. They looked at her, uncomprehending. Jed spoke. “The lady warmed you some water to wash up before you eat.”

  Once they understood, they practically tripped over one another to get to the water first. She was horrified that they skipped the towels she had laid on the table, preferring to wipe their clean hands on their filthy, blood-covered trousers.

  She walked away a few yards, closed her eyes, and bent her head forward. To herself she said, “Dear God, this is a place fit for no one. I am so afraid I will die a lonely death like so many have done in the past few days. I am the only woman here and the looks from some of these men leave no doubt in my mind what they want to do to me. I think the only thing that stops them is Captain Grant. They are afraid of him, and so am I now. He is not the same man who Jeffrey brought to our bed.”

  Chapter 47

  “Are you praying, Mrs. Sawyer? I hope so. Pray for all of us, because our time is short.” She had not heard him approach until he spoke. He touched her shoulder and she jumped away. “Are you so frightened of me? I am sorry. I will not hurt you, I promise. You do not have to like me, but I would appreciate your respect.” Eagle’s gaze was unblinking but not unkind.

  “Is there any reason, Captain, that I should respect you? I know you feel nothing like that toward me.”

  “You are wrong, Mrs. Sawyer. I do respect you. When I saw you cooking and trying to civilize the men with a bucket of water, you earned my respect. Now, will you join us for supper?” He left her no choice, as he took her arm and led her to the table. Several men were already eating when they arrived, but when a couple stood like gentlemen, so did the others.

  They had started to reseat themselves when she spoke. “Please remain standing. Those of you with hats, please remove them. Now, let us bow our heads.” Only Black Eagle Grant stood staring ahead. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she said softly, but loud enough for all to hear her. “Please bless our food that it may strengthen our bodies for the ordeal ahead. Please bless those who sacrificed their lives to protect us. Welcome them to your side and everlasting life. Forgive us of our sins. Our Father who art in Heaven…” Only Lucretia spoke the words. Slowly, other voices joined hers, hesitant at first, and then louder until most of the men were praying with her. “Amen. Now enjoy this meal, prepared by Jed Dryer.”

  She carefully put two potatoes on her plate and one lonely biscuit, which was hard as a rock. She sat beside the corporal and slowly ate. Now and then, she contributed a little to the conversations, but otherwise lost herself in her memories.

  Lucretia returned to her cabin to find her mattress already on her bed and water warming on the stove. A pile of wood was stacked neatly within easy reach from her cocoon for tomorrow. A lantern burned dimly on the table, giving the cabin a glow that welcomed her home. She sat at the table with her head on her arms, feeling the loneliness that only a widow or widower can feel. She missed Jeffrey, if only for his presence.

  “Come in,” she replied to the soft rapping on the door. Once again, his presence filled the doorway. “Hello, Captain. What can I do for you?”

  “Mrs. Sawyer, I want to personally thank you for your presence tonight. It boosted morale more than anything I have seen in weeks. The prayer helped a lot, too, for those who believe in it.”

  “Captain, do you not believe in prayer?”

  “Yes, I do, but my beliefs are different from yours. My Indian people pray to many gods for individual needs. For a successful hunt or a healthy child.”

  “I do not think that is too much different, really. We pray to only the Lord, but we ask for the same things. Tonight again, I will pray for our rescue. What will you pray for?”

  Eagle thought a moment. “I will pray for that, too, but I will pray hardest for our messenger to have reached the depot and telegraph office.”

  “A messenger? You sent a messenger? When? Should he be there by now?”

  “Not so fast, Lucretia.” He used her first name. She noticed it, but somehow did not mind. “Actually, a messenger has gone out every night since the ambush of your party. We have no way of knowing if they reached the depot or fell into the hands of our enemies. All we can do is wait.”

  “Do you think, Captain, that any of them made it? If they were captured, would they be killed?”

  “Probably not and yes. Probably not made it and yes, killed, in most horrible ways. It is the Indian way to punish enemies. There is much dancing and singing to the gods before the sacrifice begins. Do not ask me more, because you do not need to know more. It sickens the heart of non-Indians who have seen what is left of the prisoners.”

  “Dear God, Captain, that is barbaric. How can you talk so calmly about such things?”

  “Calm down, Lucretia, and listen for a minute. Some die at the stake, burned alive, just as your Bible tells of such things. Some will have water dripped into their nostrils until they drown. Is that no different from the witch hunts in Salem? We could compare such things all night, but it will change nothing.”

  She dropped her gaze and her anger slipped away. “Captain, are we going to die?”

  Chapter 48

  “I hope not, but in all likelihood, yes, we will all die. If we are to die, then let us live one last night. Let me stay with you tonight. No, do not mention your husband. He would want you to live and love one last time, and this will probably be it.”

  Lucretia looked at Eagle a long time without speaking. Inside, she felt a loneliness that went beyond her body and plumbed the depth of her soul. For her sins to her husband and her selfishness to others, she knew she belonged to the devil. And she saw the face of the devil in the man who stood before her.

  She stepped around him and latched the door. He moved to her and lifted her face. He put one hand on each side of it and pressed his lips to her forehead, then her eyelids, her nose, and finally, her mouth. The kisses were soft and sweet.

  Eagle moved his lips down her neck and kissed the hollow in her throat. He heard her intake of breath.

  She felt shivers run all over her body as he unpinned her hair, letting it fall in golden curls. He buried his face in it and moved his hands to her breasts.

  He felt her nipples begin to harden, just as his cock had hardened.

  He kissed her again, but with more force. His tongue took control of her mouth. His penis jumped when she touched her tongue to his. He was losing control, he could feel it. He pushed away from her and pulled off his shirt. She looked at his dark, muscular chest and felt the need to kiss it. She pulled him to the bed and pushed him down, dropping beside him. Her lips and tongue explored his upper torso completely before returning to his mouth.

  He reached behind her to loosen the ties holding her dress. The bodice dropped to her waist, baring her full tits. They were white with large pink rosettes and saucy, upturned nipples. “Now my turn.” He pushed her back and covered her breasts with kisses, bites, and squeezes. Her breasts dimpled as he sucked the now-rock hard nipples.

  “More, please more,” she breathed into his ear. She touched inside his ear with her tongue and he knew he was doomed. He dropped his trousers, pulled up her skirt, and ripped her littles off in one quick movement.

  “I am sorry, Lucretia, I cannot wait.” He spread her legs and lowered himself down and into her pussy. “You are wet. Wet and wonderful. You feel even more wonderful than I remembered. Or as I used to dream. I dreamed of you, night after night, wanting you just as you are now…naked and under
me. Oh no, not yet, please not yet. I am coming. Too soon. I promise to make it up to you.”

  “Never mind later. Now, do it now. I want you, too.” She wrapped her legs around his hips and moved to his rhythm. It was exquisite, better than she had ever felt before. His cock seemed to fill her entire being as she took it and rocked up to meet his every stroke. He could feel her vagina sucking him in, deeper each time. It was more than he could take and he emptied his seed into her. He heard her cries of passion under him as she reached her climax, too.

  They lay together, spent. He slid his arm under her and pulled her head up on his shoulder. When their breathing slowed, he said, “That was wonderful. I hope I did not hurt you. I could not wait. You felt too good to stop.”

  “No, you did not hurt me. I was as ready as you were. It was good for me, too.”

  She turned her face and kissed his neck. He moved his face to nuzzle her head. They both knew it was not over, but he was surprised that her little kisses were making his cock jump.

  “Do you know what you are doing?” he asked. “If not, look down.” His dick was half hard again.

  “Mmm, I see.” She ran her fingertips around his nipples. She moved her mouth over one and then the other. He was surprised and found it stimulated him even more, but when her hand continued down across his stomach to take his penis and squeeze it, he groaned. “Do you like that, Eagle?” Somehow now was totally different from their night shared with Jeffrey. She forced Jeffrey out of her mind. Tonight she would love for the last time.

  Lucretia sat up and moved to kiss her way down his rock-hard stomach, letting her tongue make a trail from his neck to the hair below. She ran her fingers through the density of his curls, surprised at how soft and fine they were. She blew softly into the hair and enjoyed his response of a quick intake of breath. She blew on his ramrod, too, and touched the end of it with her tongue. He moaned then and even more so when she slid her mouth over the tip.

  “I dreamed of this too, but never thought it could happen.” He held her head, entangling his fingers in her hair. He did not force her head down on his cock, as she had expected, but instead let her control everything she did. Her lips opened to take his length inside her mouth, but he was too big for her to take it all, so she wrapped her fist around the lower part and moved the skin up and down on his shaft.

  “Stop!” His voice was urgent, but stern. “Wait a minute.” He reached for her torso, which he turned so that her hips were near his head. He turned toward her, opening her legs. He touched her inside, making her jump. “I think this will be better, because I want to taste you, too.” He pressed his mouth into her. She understood, now, and began to suck his cock again.

  When his tongue found her clit, she lifted her hips…not intentionally, but in reflex to push against him. Having his dick in her mouth while he worked her button was so sensual that she had trouble keeping her mouth in the rhythm she had set. He took her head by the back of her neck and pressed her down on him. She could feel the tremors building in him even as she felt her own.

  She climaxed a second before she felt his eruption in her mouth. He held her head in place, forcing her to swallow his come. At first, she felt she would choke, it was so much. She took it all into her mouth until she sucked him dry. He licked inside her pussy, taking every drop of her wetness into his mouth, using his tongue to delve deeply into her vagina.

  Lucretia was exhausted. Eagle turned on the bed, dragging pillows with him. Again, he lifted her head to his shoulder. “Here, sweet Lulu. Sleep.” She sighed, kissed his neck again, and was asleep before he even relaxed. He looked down at her face, almost angelic in slumber, knowing that she was the devil he needed.

  Chapter 49

  Black Eagle Grant dozed too, only to wake two hours later by some internal clock he had learned to use after spending time in the white man’s world. The way of Indians had no clocks, just the dark and light to guide them. Now he slipped quietly out of bed and dressed in the dim light of the lantern they had left on so they could see each other while making love. He pulled the blanket up and covered his woman. He stopped short, realizing he thought of her as his woman. She was not his. She was no one’s and maybe everyone’s. He did not know her at all, except in the biblical sense. She fucked better than any woman he had ever met. She could not have learned all the movements and muscle control from her dead husband. A dozen men on her might—just might—have taught her all those things. He shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts from his mind.

  He would not have appreciated knowing he harbored the same thoughts that Jeffrey had…that the woman was no innocent. He shrugged, but bent down to kiss her forehead before leaving the cabin.

  This night he would send no more messengers. He knew they were all dead. Perhaps he would be no luckier, but his Indian blood would give him an advantage they did not have. He felt no remorse about their deaths. They were soldiers, just as he was, and it was their job to follow orders. If they did not reach Cottonwood Creek, then in his mind, they had not followed orders.

  The fort was quiet. He walked soundlessly to the enlisted men’s quarters, where another dim lantern cast its soft glow, making it easy for him to find Jed Dryer. He touched the man’s shoulder, bringing him upright and awake instantly.

  “Quiet! It is Eagle, Jed. I am leaving you in charge as of this minute. Shake my hand and wish me luck. I am going to try to get to the depot tonight. Now, come and close the gate behind me.”

  “Damn it, Captain. You will die just like the rest of them.”

  “No, I think I will make it. First, I will not take a horse. It will be better to just steal one of theirs. If I am not back in two days’ time, then you will know I am gone. Our enemy will just keep coming until everyone in the fort is dead. Now, listen, and listen well. Under no circumstances are they to take any prisoners. Make sure that Mrs. Sawyer dies before it is too late to stop them. I recommend that you and whoever is left by then meet your makers the same way. You know how you will die if they get to you first. Good-bye, now.”

  Before Jed could say anything in return, the captain was gone, armed only with his sidearm and knives. Jed crossed himself and said a prayer to Mary, asking her to protect Eagle Grant, as he followed to close the gate.

  Moving like the Indian he was, quiet with no sounds to give him away, Eagle crept in a large circle to the right of the far campfires of his brothers…his enemies. There would be guards around the horses, but by now, he suspected they were probably asleep. Aside from that, he knew they might think it unlikely that anyone would come to the back of their camp, so the number of sentries they posted would be small.

  The night was cold and very dark with no moon or even stars, as it had been the past few nights. That was a good thing, making it harder for anyone to see him. On the other hand, it also made it hard for him to see. He stopped every few minutes to listen until finally, he heard the sounds of horses not too distant. He moved cautiously in that direction until he saw the watchman on the ground, leaning against a tree.

  Eagle had no trouble eliminating the guard with one swift slice of his knife. He hoped it was no one he knew, but war was war. Within seconds, he cut the rope of the nearest horse and led it farther away from the encampment. He mounted the Indian way—bareback—and urged the horse into a walk at first, until they were far enough to prevent hoof sounds. He pressed his knees to urge the horse into a full run, praying to his gods to let them get to the depot before his mount gave out.

  Chapter 50

  The first shots woke Lucretia, just as they had for the last several days. She looked beside her, remembering the incredible night she had spent in Eagle’s arms. He must have already been outside for quite some time because his side of the bed was cold. She grabbed a garment from the floor, wrapped it around her body, and ran to put wood in the stove. She was surprised that Eagle had not stoked the fire before leaving, but he probably was in such a hurry he forgot.

  From her trunk, she found some fresh
clothing that she laid on the bed. She washed with the lukewarm water and then dressed. She had to go outside to tell them she needed more firewood. Again, she wondered why Eagle had not done that himself. She pulled on her heavy coat and carefully opened the door a crack. There were already two bodies on the ground and the number of shots coming into the fort seemed to have increased while the number going out had lessened.

  She looked around and counted only seven men firing. None of them was Eagle. She ran as fast as she could to the officers’ office and found it empty. On her way back to her cabin, she stopped for some wood from the pile nearby. A voice came from behind her. “Mrs. Sawyer, what are you doing out here? Give me that wood and get back inside.”

  Corporal Dryer grabbed the wood and ran to her cabin. She followed quickly in an attempt to talk to him before he left. He was already moving her mattress. “Get in here, ma’am. Hurry. I have to get back outside.” He had never spoken to her like this before and it frightened her somehow.

  “Jed, what is going on? Where is Captain Grant?”

  “He is gone. Now I have to go.” He did not wait for her next question. He ran out, slamming the door behind him.

  Gone? Gone where? Oh, dear God, does that mean he is dead? Her mind filled with hundreds of thoughts and questions, none of which had answers. She huddled down in her cocoon, trying to shut off her mind and the sounds of the battle. Realization began to set in. Seven men. That was all she saw. Was that all that was left of the troops? Now she understood what Eagle had said. They would all die today, just like Jeffrey, Deke, Molly, and the others. She lowered her head to her folded arms, resting them on her pulled-up knees. She felt sadness, but no tears came this time. She began to pray.

  Chapter 51

  His horse was tired. He could feel its heart beating and the sound of its lungs about to give out. Killing the horse would not accomplish anything, so Eagle slowed the pace, giving the beast time to recover. Hell, he could run this fast, he thought. He stopped the horse and slid off its back. He flexed his legs several times, drank deeply from his canteen, took deep breaths, and started to run. It could be no more than a few miles to go.