The Schoolmarm and the Preacher

by Susan Thomas

  Emmeline Philips was delighted. She assumed Annie was behind the three sermons and promised that no woman would say a word to their husband until after the second sermon. James was true to his word and folks afterwards said they couldn't recall more inspiring sermons. In his first he used the Bible to point out the unique place of women as bearers of children, their caring role and how good they were at seeing need in the community and answering it, and how selflessly they worked at mundane jobs year after year just for the benefit of the community. The town was rightly proud of its school, he said, but it was the women that were most active in raising the funds and sorting out what was needed.

  The next week he preached about the unique role of men, their strength and courage in tackling the dangerous challenges of creating this town in the first place, the sheer hard physical labor and skill that had gone into building the school, and their role as leaders in their families and as protectors. He used the Bible to point out that headship was how God had wanted it and how a Godley man meant a solid family.

  By the time he got to his third sermon the church was more than usually full. Even those whose attendance was irregular came. He began talking about the scales used to weigh flour. If you have no flour in the pan, and only weights on the scale, there is no balance. Justice, he told them, has scales that are in balance, and wears a blindfold, so that both sides of a case are weighed evenly. The town council, on the other hand has only men on it. The unique insight of women is not heard, so the council is unbalanced, its scales permanently tilted to one side. God, he told them solemnly, does not like injustice, and not to hear the voice of women was unjust.

  After that third Sunday, the town was in an uproar: there were the usual voices shouting against change and the passionate ones in favor. When the town council met it was with solemn and anxious faces. After three hours, the decision reached was that the women of the town might elect two of their number to represent them. James and Annie were put in charge of organizing it. It was no surprise to anyone that Mrs. Emmeline Philips was elected. More surprising was the second choice... Cath O'Connor.

  Cath had been orphaned when just fourteen and, penniless, had found herself in a brothel servicing the needs of men. Disgusted by her life she had saved some money and put herself up as a mail order bride. She had been honest with Jeb O'Connor, the blacksmith from Kirkham, but such was the shortage of women that he had taken her anyway and never regretted it. Cath had turned out to be an excellent wife and a superb mother. There was no one faster in seeing need and stepping in to provide it. She had been brutally honest about her past and gradually the town had adjusted to the fact that the kindly, competent Cath had once been a whore.

  Following her election Cath was sitting in her nightdress brushing her hair before going to bed. Jeb came up behind her and put his arms around her.

  "I'm real proud you've been chosen for the town council, Cath, but I'm telling you that it won't stop me putting you across my knee if you give me cause."

  Cath smiled up at his reflection in her looking glass. "Wouldn't expect it... wouldn't want it."

  "Cath," Jeb was hesitant, "have I ever told you that I love you?"

  "Every day, Jeb, every day."

  "I have?!"

  "Yup: you tell me with the way you look at me, the way you touch me, and there's all them little things you do for me. They all tell me you love me."

  Cath stopped talking to the glass, stood up, turned and put her arms around her husband's neck. "And I love you." With that she began kissing him, pulling him toward the bed as she did so. She lay down on her back on the bed and he hoisted her nightdress up around her middle before releasing the erection that had swiftly come when she began to kiss him. Cath had never told him, that of all the men that had mounted her, he was the very first... the only one... that had given her pleasure. Now, as her husband slid into her, she sighed with satisfaction; she loved it when he took her and she wrapped her legs around him and gave herself over to the delights of the marriage bed.

  Josiah Philips watched as Emmeline brushed her hair. When he had married her, that hair had been raven black, but had lost its color early in their marriage. His wife was methodically brushing the one hundred strokes that her mother had told her was the only way to keep her hair beautiful. He was nervous about her election to the town council. She had been a difficult woman until that terrible fight the women had in the main street. Henry Flight had told him to spank her and he had done just that. He had whaled away at her naked bottom until he doubted she'd sit comfortably for several weeks. After that she had been much more amenable and he'd kept up the spankings each time she got sharp with him. She'd become a much nicer person, but what would this election victory do to her? No! He was not going back to her tart tongue and unbearable ways.

  "Emmeline."

  "Yes, Josiah?"

  "I want you to know that just because you're now on the town council I am not letting you go back to the way you were. I'll still take that hairbrush to you if there is any more of 'your ways'." He steeled himself for conflict but he got a surprise.

  Emmeline stood up and came over to him looking unhappy. "Oh Josiah, I have been such a dreadful shrew of a woman. It would have been better if you'd taken that hairbrush to me on our wedding night. I am so sorry. I'll try and make it up to you."

  With that she put her arms around him and began to kiss him... kiss him properly, the way he liked, slipping her tongue into him and tantalizing him, rubbing her whole body against him. She'd never done that before... only the girls above Sams Saloon did those sort of things and he had to be so careful about going there. He felt himself growing stiff.

  "Emmeline," he gasped, "I want you to take off that nightdress."

  She'd never been totally naked before him, not ever in their whole married life. "But..."

  "Do it!" It was more growl than words.

  She slowly took her nightdress off and stood before him, head down, and blushing terribly. Josiah found that demure embarrassment arousing. He threw his own nightshirt off and looked at her amazed: she had such a lush body. The skin was milky white, but smooth like cream, with large breasts and generous hips. She'd borne him four children but her body was not ravaged by childbirth: fuller perhaps and more generously sized but still very desirable. He found himself so hard it was almost painful. He found himself wondering about having another child.

  His voice remained a growl. "Kneel in front of me and put me in your mouth." She looked astonished. He'd never behaved like this before; never asked her to do this before. "Do it!"

  She knelt... hesitant, but obedient, and taking hold of the hard shaft jutting out in front of her she tentatively began putting it in her mouth. Josiah gave a deep groan of satisfaction that astonished her. She had no idea he desired this. She didn't really know what to do with his erection now she had it, but it didn't seem to matter, whatever she did seemed to please him. To her surprise she began to have desires of her own.

  Abruptly her husband commanded her, "Enough, woman. On to the bed with you."

  The order thrilled her. There was something so primitive about it... so wicked... and yet not wicked. She almost leapt onto the bed and parted her legs feeling more ready for him than she could ever remember feeling before.

  Josiah stood looking down at her, his erection now urgently demanding action. "I've always wanted to say this and never dared. I'm going to fuck you, woman."

  "Josiah!"

  "Don't 'Josiah' me. I'm going to fuck you. What do you say to that?"

  Emmeline felt a wave of abandon wash over her. She was entering into a new world; a world she'd never dared even to think about before. It wasn't respectable but it called her, siren-like, with shocking desires which she couldn't resist. Her legs moved before her brain commanded: they opened wide and she raised her knees high.

  "I say... fuck me Josiah. Fuck me hard. Really hard. Go on, fuck me."

  The noise Josiah made was low down in his chest and sounded incredi
bly like the growl of a large predator about to take its prey. He leapt on the bed and thrust his enormous, hard erection into her with a savage cry of triumph.

  As he began to ride her with huge energy, she wrapped her legs around him, and spurred him on with lewd cries of, "Fuck me! Harder, harder. Fuck me!"

  Josiah felt twenty again; he lifted his body above her so only his shaft was inside her and that he thrust in and out with animal-like vigor. The bed crashed hard against the wall, while the springs and frame squeaked horribly, as the whole bed moved back and forth in time to their coupling.

  Emmeline felt as if there was an express train inside her, its engine at full steam and it was roaring up from somewhere deep until it exploded in an intense wave of feeling the like of which she had never had before. She screamed, fiercely wrapping her legs and arms around her husband; he lost all control and shouted with victory as he came into her.

  All energy spent, Josiah fell onto his back, staring at the ceiling and marveling at what had just happened. To his surprise there was a soft sound and Emmeline crept into his arms holding him gently and mewing small pleasure sounds. He put his arms around her and they lay together, feeling closer to one another than ever before in their marriage.

  ---oOo---

  Having put her children to bed, Annie began to get ready herself. She would read, if she felt like it, before dimming her lamp but she had little to keep her up once the children were asleep. Kirkham was a good place: her job as the school's teacher was going well, her children were happy, the people friendly, and then there was James. She found him very attractive; the desire in her to submit to him in every way was strong but... the number of 'buts' was large. But he didn't know about her past. But he didn't know she had never married and her two children were illegitimate. But there was always the danger that he would track her down. But James did not know about the money. James was a good man... a man of God in every way, it would not be right to deceive him... or would it? Perhaps this was meant to be. James needed a wife and family she could tell, so perhaps that was what she was meant to do... provide him with the support of a wife.

  She felt she was probably reading the wrong book for her. Nathanial Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. Poor Hester might just as well be her: an illegitimate child and the scarlet 'A' for adultery. Except with her 'A' for Annie, the father was no Puritan pastor, but she might marry one. Not that James was a narrow Puritan obsessed with the sin of others. Annie sighed. She was too tired for her book tonight; she dimmed the lamp and turned over to sleep which came quickly. As she slept she dreamt.

  James came into her room. Of course, he could so easily get into the small house, for no one locked their doors in Kirkham. She knew instantly what they were going to do; but it wouldn't be wrong for James was going to marry her and she would be a wife and able to do those things. He began to undress and her heart beat faster: he was such a well-built man... so strong, so loving, but so safe. He stripped naked, his powerful body caught in the moonlight and looking so wonderful. Like a Greek god she thought. Already he was large and hard and ready to take her.

  He leaned over the bed and threw back the covers. "Sit up," he commanded. She sat up and he lifted her night dress and pulled it up right over her head before getting onto the bed with her, the frame creaking with the extra weight. He was a real man, a preacher with a strong body, not some weakling with a sanctimonious manner. He lay beside her and began to touch her: his hands wandered her body sending shocks and tingles wherever they went. His mouth went to her nipples, sucking, nipping, teasing, making her arch back at the sensations that shot through her. His hands went down between her legs finding her most secret places and teasing them into desire... into something more than desire; into lust. His mouth found her and his kisses were not the fierce kisses of possession that he had used, but the passionate kisses of desire that love creates.

  "James," she whispered, red faced with desire, "please, take me now."

  He spread her legs and moving between them placed his hardness at her entrance slipping so slowly into her. She watched, as he slid firmly inside her, huge, hot and wonderful. When he was fully in she lay back with a sigh of satisfaction and he began to take her properly; his thrusts slow but so powerful and building her to a crisis such as she had never had before. She screamed with the pleasure...

  She awoke with a start. She was naked, the covers thrown back and her hands down between her legs. What kind of woman was she? Women were not meant to have such base desires! Her mother would be shocked. She must marry James... this sort of behavior should be kept for the marriage bed.

  Chapter 4

  James was surprised at the way his life had suddenly turned. He had arrived in Kirkham, intending to do penance for his involvement with the Becker gang, but life without a wife and family had been harder than he thought, and then Annie came; it was clear to him that God wanted him to marry Annie. Why else would he have sent him on a walk right where her children were in danger of drowning? Annie certainly needed a husband: life for a widow was hard, women had little economic independence, and very few legal rights; her wages as schoolteacher required her to live a frugal life and raising two children on her own would be hard. Then there was the other very clear fact that Annie needed a firm hand; she was on her own admittance headstrong and willful but on the other hand responded to firm leadership... a legacy from her loving father. James knew he would often need to correct her but, provided he was never brutal, she would respond well to it. Finally, and he had no difficulty admitting it to himself... he was falling headlong in love with her.

  It was already quite noticeable that Annie was turning to him for advice as she had done over that business with the proposed women's league. The children too were beginning to mind him as they might a father. Little Amelia had tentatively begun to give him hugs and on impulse he picked her up and cuddled her. She was a bit stiff at first but soon melted into his arms and enjoyed her cuddle. Amelia worried him more than a little. Annie had told her the little girl had nightmares, though not what they were about, but he felt it was serious. Amelia sometimes looked so tired it was clear she'd not slept well at all. The frequently drying sheets on the line told him that one of the children, or possibly both, were wetting the bed. It took very little for him to discover that the bed wetter was Harold.

  James did not believe, like so many did, that beating a bed wetter would cure them. Nor did he believe that any of the other strange 'cures' really worked. Rubbing cinnamon on a child's thighs or having them chew a stick of it sounded like nonsense to him. Something was making Harold wet the bed and he wondered if it was his father's death especially as the boy never talked about him. Perhaps that's why Amelia had nightmares. He thought probably Annie's calm patience would ultimately cure the problem. Then one day he got a somewhat deeper understanding of Harold's background.

  His work as the town's preacher or minister took him into many places off the beaten track. He was visiting the Cafferty family who lived in a ramshackle house, not in The Hovels, but right at the other end of the town past the school. As he approached he found Harold and Connor Cafferty fighting: it was a heart and soul fight with both boys hitting and grappling as if their lives depended on it. The Cafferty family were notorious fighters and Connor was a bit older than Harold, but to James' surprise Harold had the upper hand. It was clear that Connor was giving ground and losing. James caught both boys by the scruff of their necks and hauled them apart.

  "Right boys, what's all this about?"

  It all boiled down to nothing. They had begun to fight about imagined slights and would not give way.

  "Well now, since it was really about nothing, and you've both managed to hurt one another, how about you be real men, shake hands and put the past behind you?"

  Harold stuck his hand out straight away. Annie's influence James decided. Connor was slower but he suddenly gave a grin and stuck out his hand and shook Harold's. Connor was sent off to clean himself up; his family would
not worry about the marks of a scrap. However, James decided he'd best clean Harold up before Annie saw him. The boy had a bleeding nose and a split lip. Women, he knew, rarely understood these things.

  He was busy stemming the bleeding nose when Harold asked him a question that took his breath away. "Are you going to whip me now?"

  James looked at him in astonishment. "Whatever makes you ask that?"

  "My father would whip me for losing a fight."

  His head reeling from this revelation, James wondered just what Annie had been thinking about marrying a man like that. He had to be very careful how to answer to avoid criticizing the boy's father.

  "Well, in the first place you didn't lose; I stopped the fight. I've done more than my fair share of fighting, and mostly won, but you have to understand that there is always someone that will beat you. They'll be bigger or stronger or faster than you and if you fight you may get beaten no matter how good you are. Why you fight is the most important thing: I don't mind you fighting if someone is trying to hurt your sister or your mama, but fighting just for the sake of it, or over a load of foolish nothing, is wrong. Be slow to fight, Harold, and remember that why you fight is important. If a man believes in his cause he'll fight all the harder and the man fighting to protect his family fights hardest. I'll not whip you at all, Harold, not ever, but I'll not be pleased if I finding you picking on boys weaker than you, or on girls."

  Watching Harold's face James decided there was a whole lot going on he couldn't read; clearly the boy was hiding a lot.

  Suddenly Harold said, "Are you going to marry my mama?"