Over the Barrel

by Breanna Hayse

  "You should have stopped me sooner. When is this going to get better?"

  "I have some willow bark brewing. That'll help a bit. In the meanwhile, you just gotta walk it off and keep drinking water."

  "I think I'm going to be ill," Blair moaned.

  "Go to the bushes. Watch for snakes," Sloan said, unsympathetically.

  "I need your help. Please?" Blair pleaded miserably. With a sigh, Sloan helped her to her feet and led her to a thicket. As she emptied her stomach, he brought back his hat filled with cold water from the stream.

  "Wash your face. Do you remember anything that happened?" Sloan placed a cool, wet piece of cloth on the back of her neck.

  Blair splashed water onto her face. "Not really. We were talking about … oh, Mother in Heaven." Blair paled, looking down and realizing that she was only dressed in her undergarments. "I'm begging you. Please tell me that I did not throw myself at you like a barmaid."

  "Truthfully," Sloan answered wryly, "you made the barmaids I've met look rather amateurish."

  "I am so sorry. Truly, I am. I will never drink again. I swear." Blair hid her eyes behind her hands. "The things I did were … they were not me."

  "Oh, I think they were certainly you, Squirrel. You have a heap of hot-blooded passion in your veins. You are gonna make the right man very happy one day."

  "I don't want to have …" she turned mid-sentence to the bushes once again. "This is so humiliating."

  "You're not doing anything that I haven't done myself, little one. Let's get you into the stream."

  Blair did not have the strength to argue with him as he took her hand and led her down a small sandy bank. He pulled her boots from her feet, removed her stockings, and helped her step into a shallow pool.

  "Settle down there, and don't worry about your underthings. They'll dry quick enough in the sun."

  "I, uh," Blair blushed, "They are extremely thin, and when they get wet …"

  Sloan ran his palms across his forehead. "Girl, I am doing my best not to get annoyed with you, but my patience is running low. I am not leaving you unattended here, especially dressed like this. There could be wanderers following the river."

  "Like Indians?" Blair's eyes widened with fear.

  "Or worse: outlaws, miners, strays … I won't be looking at you, so you have no need to worry."

  With a resigned sigh, Blair lowered her body into the cool pool and began to splash the water over her face and arms. She dipped her long hair under the water and floated on her back for a while, enjoying the clean, refreshing bath and the warmth of the morning sunshine.

  "You could come join me if you wish," she said quietly.

  "I'll take my dip a bit later when I know you are feeling better. Alone."

  Blair looked over her shoulder, catching him staring at her. "I thought you said you weren't going to look, Mr. Adkins."

  Sloan quickly turned his head and tossed some rocks into the bushes. "I apologize. Please forgive me."

  "And what if I chose not to?" Blair asked, with a hint of a smile.

  "Then, madam, I will have to find a way to live with myself and my indiscretions."

  "Truly, Mr. Adkins, you are no fun to tease."

  "I gather you are feeling better?" Sloan cleared his throat.

  "Much so, thank you. I am getting quite cold, though."

  "Let me help you so you do not slip," Sloan said, averting his eyes from her breasts, which displayed hard, pointed nipples through the filmy material.

  Blair accepted his hand and picked her way to a rock. She sat down and began to squeeze the water out of her hair. "That truly was very refreshing. Your turn."

  "Are you going to sit there and stare at me as though I were a pretty dress for sale?" Sloan asked, with his hands on his hips.

  Blair grinned, "I think I might. This is a time for adventure, and I have never seen a partially unclothed man before. Beyond his chest, that is."

  Sloan tilted his head. "Then, my dear, prepare yourself for more than a partially unclothed man."

  Blair gasped, placing her hands over her mouth as he deftly stripped all his clothing from his body and entered the pool naked. His body was hard and lean, every muscle clearly defined through golden flesh. His buttocks were tight and well-developed, stretching to long legs that had spent a lifetime on the back of a horse. He turned to settle into the pool, and Blair boldly studied his manhood, safely nestled in a mass of dark, curly hair. It began to grow as though it knew it was being observed, and Blair quickly turned her face in sudden embarrassment at her own brazenness.

  "Do you like what you see, Miss Farbor?" Sloan chuckled.

  "Stop doing that," Blair answered with her back to him.

  "Doing what? Asking you questions?"

  "Making it, you know, rise like that. It's discomfiting."

  "Honey, this part of me has a mind of its own. It knows that a pretty lady is looking upon it with interest and can't help but react."

  "It is simple curiosity and nothing more. Do all men … react ... like that?"

  "Liar. Did your aunt ever teach you about the ways between men and women?"

  Blair reddened again and shook her head. "We were taught in school how a wife was to behave. She is to cook, clean, sew, and submit quietly to her husband. We were told that she was to permit him access to her body as he saw fit and that she was required to sleep with him so that she would produce many children after she was wed."

  "Do you understand that sleeping with your husband does not literally mean sleeping?"

  "It doesn't?"

  "Babies are not made that way, Squirrel. You never saw an animal pairing?"

  "They aren't? How is it done? I lived in the city and such a thing, this animal pairing, was not a frequent occurrence. Is there something wrong with me that I don't know this information?" Blair wrinkled her forehead with concern.

  "No, no… you are just innocent in the facts of life." Sloan sat up in the pool with a solemn expression on his face. "I need to ask you a serious question, Blair. Were you even aware of what that man was preparing to do to your body?"

  "Of course. He was going to rape me."

  "Do you even know what that means?"

  "It means he would take me forcefully."

  "Yes, but how would he take you? Dear Lord," Sloan rubbed the back of his neck as she shook her head, "you don't know, do you? Why are you crying?"

  "You are making me feel as though I am a stupid, ignorant child."

  "You are an ignorant child, but you are not stupid. Let me explain," Sloan stood and walked to sit next to her, covering his naked crotch with his shirt. Blair's tears turned to horrific gasps as he carefully described the 'parts' and how they worked.

  Blair shook her head in disbelief. "It all sounds so distasteful! How horrible it must be to be married! How is it that prostitutes practice such acts?"

  "It is only distasteful if a man and woman are not paired in a right way, Blair. A marriage, if a compatible one, can bring pleasure to both people."

  "I cannot see that as true."

  "Sharing a bed with my late wife brought me much pleasure. In fact, it was the only pleasure I experienced with her. That was the only compatibility we shared," Sloan said quietly.

  "Late wife?"

  "Yes. I lost her and her child to a raid about five years back."

  "Oh, Sloan …" Blair said softly, touching his naked thigh with her hand. Realizing what she had done, she quickly pulled it back. "I beg your forgiveness. I did not mean to …"

  "Squirrel, let me fill you in on some things in these parts. Women are scarce. Because of that, men here go through great lengths to obtain one. I even know a few who send for women they never met through the mail. Entertainers and prostitutes are not looked down upon here as they are in the city because they provide a needed service to lonely men, and those who can afford it pay them quite generously. Items crafted by gals out here, including homemade pies, clothing and blankets, are held in the highest value. A woman
who proves herself to be of use is cared for, and if she is harmed, the town will protect her."

  Blair turned her head from him. "I have no value, then. I cannot do any of the things that a woman of value is said to achieve. Does this mean I am to become an entertainer, should I decide to live a life independent of a man?"

  "You are well-educated and can teach."

  "I have no desire to be surrounded by children. This is decidedly wicked of me to say, but I do not know if I desire to have children of my own, much less be around other people's brats."

  "You don't care for children?"

  "I find them cruel and selfish."

  "Were you bullied as a child?"

  "Quite frequently. My aunt felt the need to remind me that my odd behavior provoked such cruelty and did nothing to stop it. She would invite guests over and send me away with their children, knowing what would occur."

  "Those particular children were spoiled and undisciplined. Raised correctly, children are a wonderful addition to a healthy marriage. As for your aunt, well, she does not sound as though she is a very pleasant person."

  "She is not. Hence, you see my reservation regarding teaching."

  "There are many men who wish to learn to read. The local Indians as well. That would be very profitable for you. However, you would need to have an escort or be married so as not to provoke jealousy from their wives."

  "I have neither an escort nor a husband, Mr. Adkins."

  "You are young and have no need to make a decision for yourself just yet. Let's get you to your grandfather, and then you can concern yourself with your future plans."

  "What if he doesn't want me, Sloan? What if he sends me back to Aunt Imelda? I would simply die if I had to return to that awful place."

  "You would not die. Maybe you should consider going into the theater."

  "Are you saying that in sincerity, or are you just poking fun at me?"

  "I'm funning you, girl." Sloan stood up and began to dress in front of her. Are your clothes dry yet? Slip on your stockings and boots and toss on your dress. I got a nice rattler roasting on the fire for your breakfast."

  Blair turned slightly pale. "A snake? You want me to eat a snake?"

  "Unless you got something better planned, yep. Hurry with you now."

  Two weeks later, they made their way back down to the well-traveled road. Few words were spoken until they reached a small town at the end of their day.

  "I'm gonna send a message to your grandfather," Sloan said as he helped Blair curry the horses. "The stableman said there is a ranger station at the far end of town, where I can get some more supplies as well. You are to stay right here and do not go roaming."

  "Can't I come with you?"

  "Not here. I don't know these folks, and I am not taking chances. Skinwalker won't let anyone get near you. Stay right here next to him, hear me?"

  Blair frowned as he departed. After a half hour, she walked outside to follow the sound of loud music and laughter. Glancing down the road and seeing no sign of Sloan, Blair followed the noise to a large saloon. With a determined lift to her chin, she entered.

  Several heads turned as she sauntered to the bar, her eyes not leaving the singing woman dressed in scandalous clothing who leaned against the piano.

  "Can I buy you a drink, Miss?"

  Blair turned to face a scruffy-looking man with a broad smile. She glanced around the room, noticing that none of the other men appeared concerned.

  "Why, yes, thank you."

  Blair stared at the short glass of whiskey that was set before her and swallowed dryly as she recalled her first incident with alcohol. Several men gathered to watch the elegant young woman down her drink. Cheers rose as she swallowed the bitter liquid in one sweep and placed the glass back down on the table before delicately dabbing the side of her mouth.

  "Now that's a woman!" one man shouted. "Nothing better than a gal who knows how to put down the corn juice."

  Blair smiled at the compliment, nodding as she was offered a second glass.

  "Third one's on the house!" the singing woman called out.

  Blair giggled cheerfully as she was surrounded by blurry people who wanted to know where she was from, where she was heading, and if she was hitched.

  "Yes," Sloan's deep voice bellowed from the doorway. "She's my wife."

  "Oh, Sloan!" Blair called out, "you came to rescue me!"

  "How much have you had? Girl, I swear …" Sloan began, interrupted by Blair crushing her mouth to his while wrapping her arms around his neck. A loud cheer followed.

  "I love you," she proclaimed, covering his face with kisses as she moved her hands down his shirt.

  "I, uh … let's get you home," Sloan stammered, trying to pull her hands from his body.

  "Kiss the woman, Ranger!" a voice commanded.

  "Blair, let's go," Sloan said, softly.

  "She's a mighty affectionate one. If you don't want her, I'll take her. She needs a real cock to …"

  A gun was leveled at the man's chest before the last word left his lips.

  "Don't you talk about my wife in that manner, mister. I don't want to see you laying an eye on her again, hear me?" Sloan's voice took on a deadly timbre and the room grew silent.

  "Was just making conversation, lawman," the man stated, hands raised to his ears in surrender.

  "You need to keep better control of her if you don't want anyone looking. Nobody forced her in here," the bartender stated. He gestured to the glasses, "I watered her down after her first round."

  "Thank you," Sloan said gratefully, "She won't be coming back to a bar anytime soon. That I can promise. Blair, it is time to leave."

  "Kiss me, Sloan."

  "You are going to get strapped for this, my girl," he whispered in her ear, feeling her stiffen in his arms. "This will be the last time you even think of looking at a bottle."

  "But, Sloan …." Blair began to sway.

  "Pardon me, gentlemen," Sloan said, catching her as she began to fall and lifting her across his left shoulder. He stomped outside and headed for the stables.

  "Put me down!' Blair began to yell, pummeling his back with her fists.

  He smacked her harshly on the rump. "You will quiet down this minute. I am madder than an old wet hen right now, young lady. I just don't know what was spinnin' inside that head of yours when you decided not to mind me."

  "I love you!" Blair sang loudly as he trampled towards the stables.

  "You won't love me for long," Sloan said, and he dumped her into the large horse trough filled with water.

  "Argh!" Blair screeched as she emerged from under the water. Sloan dunked her a second time, and she came up sputtering. "You lowdown sonofabitch!"

  "If you want an audience for your thrashing, just keep up your screaming, girl. Now haul your little back end out of there and march yourself into the stable. It's time to sober up."

  Blair uttered several choice words as she struggled to pull herself out of the trough and flipped straight onto the dirt. Sloan crossed his arms to watch her rise to her feet and wring water from the layers of material belonging to her dress and petticoats.

  "Stop stalling and get inside."

  Blair made a fist with both hands and held them down at her sides, kicking small rocks as she stomped away from Sloan, the trough, and the small gathering of onlookers. She spun around and pointed her finger at him.

  "How dare you speak to me as though you owned me! I am not your ..."

  "Keep your voice down, young lady. You put yourself into a heap of danger in there. Not just with the drinking, but by telling people your business. The wrong sort could be listening and think you would be a tasty morsel."

  "I am quite able to make decisions for myself. Everyone there was very kind."

  "I told you that gals are a rare commodity in these parts, and there are some men who will just take what they want, without asking. You can barely stand up straight, and yet you think you can make proper decisions for yourself. Damn it,
Blair, use the brains the good Lord put in your head!"

  "You cussed! I knew you weren't all that perfect."

  "Yeah, I cussed. Rile me up enough and the words slip out. I also will warn you, girl, pushing to get the final say is not wise right now. See that milking stool? You will sit on that stool with your little freckled nose right in the corner until I cool down and you sober up a bit. There is no use in punishing you until I know you can feel it."

  Blair kicked the wall. "I am not going to sit in the corner like a naughty child. I am a grown woman and … put me down!"

  Sloan scooped Blair's wet body in one arm and picked up the stool with the other, setting both down harshly in the corner of the stable.

  "Move an inch; I get a buggy whip," he threatened.

  "You are so cruel!" Blair complained, placing her elbows on her knees and plopping her chin on her hands. "I hate you."

  "Hate me as much as you like. I wired your grandfather. He was in town, so I got an immediate reply. So here is the plan: Malcolm authorized a wagon to take us to his place. The blacksmith has one that he is preparing for us and seeing to getting us supplies for our trip. We will take Skinwalker with us, and the local sheriff will see to the return of the other horse to his owner. We still have another six to seven weeks to travel, but a wagon will make things much easier."

  "I am not getting into a stagecoach with you."

  Sloan grit his teeth, his patience at an end. "One more word and I am tipping that barrel. I don't welcome any lip from you at the moment, got it? You are not that deep into the bottle that you have no control of your words."

  "You … you cock-brained imbecile!"

  Sloan stared at her. "Did you just say what I think you did?"

  Blair slapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened as he stripped his wide leather belt from his trousers and flung it over his shoulder before heading towards the empty water barrels in the corner. He turned one onto its side and shoved a plank underneath to prevent it from rolling. He turned to the girl and pointed to his feet.

  "Get your backside over here right this second. What you might not feel now, you will feel later."