by Sable Hunter
Glory held on to the counter, satisfaction filling her heart even as the tide of an impending orgasm rose from her core. She loved this frantic coupling, cherished the words he whispered, even if he whispered them unaware. For this one shining moment, she belonged to Rex Allen Beaumont, she was important and she belonged.
T didn’t let up, his need didn’t abate – he kept thrusting, plunging, burying his cock deep within her softness over and over as he kneaded her breasts, milking the nipples as her tight little pussy fluttered, milking his cock.
And when she cried out his name, he bellowed his own release, bowing his head and resting it against her own. “What you do to me, Glory Bee Hudson. You’re such a tease.”
Glory relished his weight pressing her to the cool wood. She smiled a secret little smile. He might think she was teasing, but she was serious in her effort to heal this man, to give him what he needed before it was time for her to go. “I still want to go outside with you, if it’s not too late.”
“No, it’s not too late. I’ll take Buford for a walk and meet you outside.” Kissing her on the neck, he pulled out of her and began to rearrange his clothing. “And thank you, Glory. I needed that.”
“I did too,” she whispered. “I need you more than you’ll ever know.”
…A little later…
“Here I am,” she called out as she joined T, a cup of coffee in her hand for him. Since they’d been together, Glory had gathered he didn’t drink. She was glad, the experience she had with her folks had cured her for any desire for alcohol. “Here’s your coffee, baby.” The caffeine didn’t seem to keep him awake and she loved the taste of it on his tongue.
“Thanks, Glory.” He was sitting in the oversize wooden rocker, his big feet propped up on the railings. The curtain of darkness was falling and the chorus of nighttime swamp sounds was in full concert. “Listen.” He held up one finger and she heard it – the distant honk, honk, honk, of geese coming in for a landing in the warm waters of the bayou.
“I hear them,” she whispered, moving to sit close to him, then changing her mind and coming close to see if he would let her sit in his lap. To her delight, he allowed it, letting her cuddle close, cradled to him, her head resting on his shoulder. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it? Reminds us that winter is on the way.”
“Yea, Christmas will be here before we know it.” He held her close with one arm, using the other to take care of his coffee cup.
“We have to get through Halloween first, and before that, the Houma festival this weekend,” she reminded him. “I’m really looking forward to that. I can’t wait to hear you speak.”
“You hear me speak all the time.”
She giggled. “Yea, I’m lucky.” Pecking his cheek with a quick kiss, she made a request. “Tell me a story.”
“Well…” T took a long breath, pretending to stare out into the night. In reality, he only had eyes for her. “You’ve heard tell that the devil roams to and fro upon the earth, seeking whom he may devour.” Suddenly, he reached over and took a gentle nip of her neck and she squealed happily. But instead of lurching away from him, she buried herself even deeper in his embrace. T would never be able to explain how her acceptance made him feel. “One night the devil came to the old man river, the mighty Mississippi. The people who traveled the river that night could feel his presence with every eddy and swirl, every movement of the current. Nothing escaped his influence, the lights of the lanterns were dimmer as they attempted to cut through the thick fog. The boat engines had to work harder, straining to chug along. Yes, the devil was in the river. All in all, it was a sorry night to be on the water. But one steamboat captain refused to turn around and go back the way he came.”
“Old Captain Bull was alone on the river that night. No other boat dared to make the trip. All the rest had decided to pass their time in the riverside taverns, telling their own bone-chilling stories. None would risk their lives or their boats on the river that night. When Bull bragged how he could make the run, no matter the danger, the rest laughed at him, telling him he’d turn back or he’d be dead by morning. Captain Bull grew furious at their laughter and he swore on God’s name that he would turn back for no reason; even should the Devil bar his way.”
He had to stop, smile, and take a sip of coffee when she clutched his shoulder, pressing her front to his. He could feel the sweet swell of her breasts as they were cushioned against the muscles of his chest. “Old Captain Bull set off on his journey, pushing his boat through the pea soup thick fog. As he churned along, the big vessel rocked unevenly as he fought the strange eddies in the stream. Nevertheless, Bull knew the way, every curve, every mark and he steered her full speed ahead despite being nearly blinded by the curtain of fog. But suddenly, in the midst of the mile-wide river, Bull saw a shore where no shore should be.”
Glory gasped. “What happened?”
“Old Bull turned the wheel frantically. He knew what he was seeing was impossible. For his whole life, the river had run straight as an arrow through this branch. If he’d made the trip once, he’d made it a hundred times.” T dropped his voice, making it more dramatic. “Bull’s mistake had been daring Satan. The old serpent himself was listening when the Captain declared that not even the devil himself could bar his way. Without explanation, the river itself had moved, shifted. Bull swore to God in heaven, shaking his fist, and vowing that he’d not quit until he found a way through. ‘I’ll never turn back. Never!’”
T felt the woman he’d become so attached to shudder in his arms. “The steamboat gave a mighty jerk. The engine stopped. The boiler became silent. The boat shook so hard it began to break apart, then it rolled over into the black water. When the sun came up the next day, Old Bull’s boat was at the bottom of the river, a gaping hole torn down one side. The pilot’s body was never found.” He paused for effect. “On dark, foggy nights, people say you can hear the churning of the engine, the clanging of the bell, and the curses of the captain as he rails to the heavens.”
“T, that’s just a story.”
T-Rex smiled. “True, but the river has shifted before, you know.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Yes, it has, several times. In 1811, a powerful earthquake hit and the spasms and convulsions rocked the whole country. The center of the quake was a huge cypress forest in northern Tennessee, very near the Mississippi. On December 16, out of nowhere, the earth’s surface pitched high, then abruptly plunged back down. The river went crazy, the Mississippi reared straight up, turned around, and began to flow backwards, pouring down into the deep abyss that had been the forest. Those who were too close, perished. Those who saw it from a distance say the earth gave away in a mammoth landslide and whole forests tangled together and slid to their demise beneath the depths of the river. As if pulled by an unseen hand, the land subsided and the waters of the Mississippi poured over the side in a deluge and flooded the newly carved basin, now known as Reelfoot, a lake created by the violence of nature.”
“That’s scarier than a ghost story.” Glory stared out at the waters of the bayou as the moon glinted on the dark water. “I’m glad I’m not sleeping in the houseboat tonight. I’m afraid the bottom would fall out and I’d go down in a whirlpool like a bubble in the storm drain.”
T had to laugh at the way she put things. “You’re so cute.” He kissed her, more glad than he would ever admit that she was here with him. Looking back at how lonely he’d been in the past, this chance to share these days with her was a paradise he’d never forget. “Actually, there’s a form of the story you’ll like better.”
“Try me.” She cuddled back into his arms, ready for more.
Doing what he loved to do so well, T began another tale. “Many moons ago, there was a tribe of Chickasaw Indians who were ruled by a mighty chief. His heart was angered at the Great Spirit, because his only son had been born with a deformed foot. As the child aged, his father scorned him, but he continued to grow stronger, even if he was unlike all the rest. His wal
k and the way he ran was characterized by a rolling gate. The tribe called him Reelfoot.”
“When his father died, Reelfoot became the Chief. None of the Indian maidens would accept him because of his handicap and Reelfoot was sad and lonely. He’d heard of the mighty tribes of the southern lands, and the wondrous beauty of their maidens. Desperate for companionship, when the robins arrived in the spring, he wandered in search of a wife, his princess.”
Glory was so still, T thought she might have been asleep, but when the moon came out from behind a cloud, he saw her big eyes focused on his face. “After many days of journeying, he arrived at the land of Chief Copiah. He found the most beautiful woman he could have dreamed, sitting by her father’s side. Her name was Laughing Eyes. Reelfoot fell in love. After sitting, sharing food, and the peace pipe, Reelfoot asked for Copiah’s daughter’s hand in marriage. The old chief would not agree, he did not want his daughter to marry a deformed man, he denied Reelfoot’s request.”
“Reelfoot became hurt and angry. He looked into the maiden’s eyes and saw she looked at him with compassion. He wanted her so much he was willing to steal Laughing Eyes away. Old Copiah could see what was happening and called on the Great Spirit to protect his daughter, he told Reelfoot that if he stole his daughter, the earth would rock and pitch, the waters would rise up and swallow the people, burying the village in a watery grave. Reelfoot was horrified at the threat and sorrowfully returned home without his princess.”
“He’s alone?” Glory asked, sitting up now, one hand behind his head, massaging his neck and playing in his hair. T had to concentrate to finish his story.
“Yes, but by the end of summer, he was so lonely, he decided to ignore the threats and steal Laughing Eyes. When he returned, his people rejoiced. Laughing Eyes wanted to be happy, but she was afraid of the wrath of the Great Spirit. Reelfoot was so in love, he was willing to defy everything to keep her.”
“What happened?”
“Well, in the midst of the marriage ceremony, as the drums beat and the people chanted, the earth began to tremble and roll.”
“Oh, no!”
“The villagers tried to flee to the hills, but the rocking land made the people stagger and fall. Chief Reelfoot and Laughing Eyes tried to run also, but the Great Spirit stomped his foot in great anger, calling upon the Father of Waters to answer his call. The mighty river stopped flowing, rose up, changed its course and rushed over Reelfoot’s village, carrying them all away, sweeping Laughing Eyes from his grasp. The only thing that was left was a beautiful lake and the memory of a man who only wanted to be loved.”
“That’s so sad.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Everyone deserves to be loved!”
Her words sent a spike of regret through his heart. No, everyone didn’t deserve to be loved. Sometimes, your sins were too great. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Glory knew it might be silly, but for some reason she thought T-Rex might see himself as Reelfoot, somehow unworthy to be loved. She couldn’t stand the thought. To show him she felt differently, Glory began to kiss his neck. “I think you’re perfect,” she whispered. “Just the way you are.”
T knew she was wrong, but he loved to hear her say it. “Time for bed, wild child.” He stood and picked her up, carrying her inside. “You know something? I don’t think you’ve sleepwalked a time since you’ve been with me. I wonder what that means?”
Glory sighed with happiness, holding onto his wide shoulders. “I’m not sure.” She had an idea. In her sleep, she’d always been searching, hunting, restless and unsettled. “Maybe, there’s no use. Why go somewhere else, when I’m right where I want to be?”
CHAPTER NINE
“I love your costume!” Glory checked Harper out. “Why Bonnie and Clyde?”
Harper straightened her old-fashioned hat. “Revel is fascinated with the criminal duo. Everyone in this part of Louisiana has a Bonnie and Clyde story. From here to East Texas, every family has a tale of hiding them or seeing them or knowing someone who spent time with them. They were killed in Gibsland, a little town in the northern part of the state.”
“True. I remember my daddy speaking of them,” Glory said. “I guess you could say he had a story too. But it was a sad one. His great uncle was killed on his first day of work as a state trooper over in Texas, shot in the back by Bonnie and Clyde, twelve days before his wedding day. His fiancé wore her wedding dress to the funeral and she never married after that.”
“Awww,” Harper crossed her arms. “Now, I wish I’d worn something else. Oh, well, I’ll try to do a good deed today to make up for it.” She pulled on Glory’s crop top. “And who are you supposed to be? Daisy Duke?”
Glory brightened. “Got it in one!” She pointed to the two men who were busy helping the Corps reps set up their booth. “T-Rex wasn’t really excited about my choice, but after I put it on this morning, we were almost late leaving because he took it off me as soon as I came into the room.”
Harper put her arm around Glory. “I’m so glad the two of you are together and getting along so well. We’ve always hoped T-Rex would abandon that stupid decision to never get involved with anyone. The idea that he doesn’t deserve to be happy is just crazy.”
Glory was just about to ask Harper to explain what she meant when T called her over. “Hey, Glory, come here a second.”
Glory and Harper made their way through the crowd. The family-friendly festival had a definite spooky flair, but there was also a Mardi Gras feel in the air. Everyone was in costume and the smells of fried food and Cajun cooking wafted on the breeze. Glory had been surprised to find out on the way over that the festival was the primary fundraiser used to support the South Louisiana Wetlands organization, designed to teach people about Louisiana’s disappearing coast line. Glory knew this was not only T’s job, it was his passion. When she joined him, putting a hand to his broad back, she was surprised for him to greet her with a kiss. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
To Glory’s surprise, a woman stepped up. She was older than T, but still a very attractive lady. “Hello.”
“Lauren, this is Glory Hudson. Glory, this is my friend Lauren Middleton and this beautiful young lady is her daughter Teagan.”
A little girl peeped from behind her mother’s back. She was probably nine or ten years old. “Hey, nice to meet you.”
“How pretty and polite you are!” Glory took both of their hands. “I’m so glad to know you.”
Revel, in his Clyde Barrow suit, wiped his brow. “For the end of October, it sure is hot. Who’d like some lemonade?”
“Oh, I would,” Teagan raised her hand. Everyone agreed that the cool beverage sounded wonderful.
As Harper and Revel left to buy the lemonade, T pulled Glory close. “Glory, Lauren is an old friend who stood by me in my time of need.”
Lauren smiled at T. “I could recognize a good man when I saw one.”
Glory wished she knew what they were talking about, but she was afraid to ask, especially in front of the child.
“I still have a long way to go, but I’m making progress,” T-Rex stated, not elaborating on the details.
“I’m just glad you’re dating someone, I always told you the right girl would come along.”
Glory felt him stiffen at her side.
“We’re not dating,” T blurted out. “Not seriously.”
Glory wished there was a hole to sink in to.
“Oh, I see,” Lauren said, obviously uncomfortable. She took Teagan’s hand. “Well, whatever it is. You look happy and that makes me glad. If you’ll excuse us, we need to find Teagan’s daddy, he owes us both a corndog.”
As they left, Revel and Harper came back, just in time to chase them down and give the mother and daughter their drinks. Glory didn’t have a chance to question T and she didn’t know what she would’ve said if she did have time. He’d made it clear they had no future, but she at least thought they were dating. If not, what were they doing?
; Damn.
They were shacking up, she guessed.
Shacking up.
A term her mother used to use to describe what certain women did, women she considered to be beneath her notice.
During the next few minutes, she ignored her misgivings and helped T and Revel finish setting up their booth, hanging the banner, and putting out the brochures. She learned that Revel and several of the other engineers and employees would take turns handing them out and reminding folks of the true cause behind the festivities, preventing coastal land loss.
“Wow, just look at all this,” Harper came to stand by Glory. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”
Glory hadn’t. Halloween had truly arrived early in downtown Houma. She couldn’t gauge the size of the crowd but there were hundreds converging around the courthouse square.
To kick off the celebration, a man climbed up on the raised dais and folks gathered around. “Welcome to the Rougaroux Festival everyone! Y’all know we need to save the wetlands so you all can still shoot ducks!”
Glory covered her mouth, to keep from laughing. Surely there were other equally powerful reasons for saving the wetlands.
The emcee continued. “Our mascot for this event is the Rougaroux, a mysterious swamp werewolf who makes his home in the swamps and marshes of the wetlands. Tonight, we have a treat for you. Rex Allen Beaumont, local folklore authority, will be regaling you with stories of the Rougaroux. Be sure and meet him around by the bonfire just after dark.”
T waved to the crowd and even though she felt vulnerable, she also couldn’t deny how proud she felt at being with him.