Swoosh, snap.
“Yeeeeawww.”
“And you’re not going to pull anything stupid like this again, withholding your affections?”
“No, no. I promise.”
Swoosh, snap.
“Ouch, please.”
“And you’ll be going to Brighton Springs just as we planned, no more complaints?”
“I promise,” she affirmed.
Swoosh, snap.
“Ouch, ow, oh please.” Even her feet were dancing as if she hoped they could carry her away from this misery.
“If you ever so much as hint about anything as demeaning as this game you’ve played with me, I’ll find a real cane, and you’ll think today is child’s play. You understand me?”
“Yes, Aaron, I do,” she sobbed.
The last snap landed, and Aaron threw the birch aside, while Abigail eased her grip on the table, relieved that it was over at last. Immediately going to Abigail’s backside, Aaron’s hand was on her burning red bottom.
“I’m so sorry, Aaron,” she sobbed. He wouldn’t let her turn about, but was determined to fondle her tender cheeks, and bring out the desires that they’d squelched the last day. In a matter of seconds, she was purring like a kitten in his arms.
“Oh, my god, Aaron, let’s go take care of this in bed,” she implored him. She was all over him, her hands on his body, her mouth on his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’ll terribly sorry.” The last day had been nothing but a mistake.
“I knew you would be,” he said. “But we’ll take care of what we need right here.”
“Right here? She questioned him.
He smiled, and set her wounded rear on the kitchen table.
“0uch!” she exclaimed.
‘Just what you deserve,” he said sternly, though he was smiling now. Leaning her back against the hard surface of the table, he was inside her swiftly, the husband and wife coming to a crashing fin-ish with all their pent-up emotion and sexu-al desire finding a release at last.
“I am sorry, Aaron,” Abigail said, once they were both satisfied and he was pulling her to her feet.
“1 know you are,” he said. “And I know you’re still not happy about Brighton Springs. All I ask is that you give it try. See if maybe you’re wrong about it, and then, well … you never know, we might just move back here, or somewhere else.’
“You really mean that? We don’t have to stay?” she said excitedly.
“I really mean that. But you watch yourself,” he said, his eyes narrowing severely to enunciate his point. “We talk about our feelings, we don’t go plotting revenge. You understand?”
“I do,” she said, and with her bottom still smarting so it was tender to touch, she let Aaron hold her in his arms, her head dropping to his chest for comfort.
The rough journey across a rocky mountain terrain to Brighton Springs did not forecast a successful venture in their new home. Their house was not as comfortable as the old one, and there was - just as Abigail suspected - far fewer people with whom a young woman of such spirit as Abigail could spend her time. All things considered, however, Abigail didn’t offer one word of disappointment or protest to Aaron. He was a man of his word: if he really knew she was unhappy with the move, eventually he’d reconsider his decision, and perhaps they could move back closer to her family and friends. At least for awhile, she was determined to bide her time and give their new home the thorough consideration that Aaron expected. Eventually they would return to their old home, she was certain of that.
As quick as the wind can change the direction of a storm, just a month after Aaron and Abigail settled in Brighton Springs, the testy young woman had an abrupt change of heart about her new home, with the arrival of an unexpected guest.
“Hey, what are you doing way up here?” Abigail heard a familiar voice exclaim as she was picking flowers from her garden. Jerking up, she turned and stared, her mouth wide open in shock, the flowers forgotten, dropping to her feet.
“Darcy Greenwood, I should as the same thing to you,” Abigail said, catching her breath. She darted towards her friend and gave her an affectionate greeting.
“The mountains agree with you,” Darcy observed, seeing the bright color on Abigail’s pale cheeks.
“I’ve hated it here,” she whispered. “But don’t you tell Aaron. He’s sure to whip my behind if I so much as say one blessed thing against this place.”
“Has you that scared?” Darcy asked, surprised.
“No, not really scared. I just promised him I wouldn’t raise anymore fuss over living here, at least until we settled in. I guess I wasn’t very kind to him after he announced the move.”
“You did something stupid, didn’t you? I bet he whupped your ass.”
“How would you know?”
“It figures, coming from you and Aaron. You’re both stubborn as mules, I don’t imagine that’s going to be the last time.”
“It is if I can help it,” Abigail said.
“So what you do, anyway. Run off somewhere?”
“Just back to mama, but it was more than that.”
Darcy looked at her as if she wasn’t going to budge from the spot unless she told her everything.
“I told him I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t, you know, give him what he wanted in bed.”
“Oh, that is a bratty notion. But why you’d want to withhold yourself from Aaron Barrow, I can’t imagine. He’s one man I wouldn’t mind having myself.”
“Darcy Greenwood! He’s my husband,” Abigail snapped indignantly.
“Well, you’d better mind your manners so he stays that way,” Darcy shot back. “You wouldn’t be wanting to steal him away from me, would you?” Abigail said.
“Naw. He’d be fun, I’m sure. But he’s yours, and he ain’t the type to go funning around with other women.” She almost sounded disappointed.
“No, I don’t suspect he is,” Abigail readily agreed.
“That still doesn’t mean you should abuse him,” Darcy said.
“Abuse him! It’s my butt that’s been burning.”
Darcy laughed and grabbing Abigail’s hand, they moved towards the house. “You got anything to eat inside, I’m famished,” she declared.
Darcy was one person that would never change, and Abigail was glad of that. She couldn’t believe how much she missed her glorious face and wry wit. Darcy always had a way of seeing things differently than her, and Abigail was glad of that
“My, my, look what the cat drug in,” Aaron said, on seeing their houseguest that evening. “How did you manage to find us?”
“It’s not too hard,” Darcy said. “You don’t really cover your tracks.”
“You know, I’ve been warned about you, Miss Greenwood,” Aaron said playfully.
“Warned, why’s that?”
He snickered. “If Abigail’s Daddy knew you were here, he’d probably come up here and run you off.”
“Well, he has no right to do that. And I know you have a soft spot in your heart for me,” Darcy declared.
“That I do. So how’s your Pap?”
“Aw. He’s still kicking, but way on the other side of the state. I’m on my own now. Have been for about a year or so. No troubles, no worries. Can be a pretty good life that way.”
“But what are you doing?” Aaron asked earnestly. “How do you live?”
I have a job, or at least I had a job. Between jobs right now, I guess. But one will come up soon. Maybe even here. Meantime, I have some cash stashed, and it keeps me in grits.”
Aaron chuckled. “Just keep your fin-gers out of the til,” he said.
“Oh, you’ve taught me that lesson already,” she said with a smile. Her eyes were green, or at least that was what they appeared, though in the light from the fireplace, they simply glowed with happiness and mischief, just as they always had. For the Barrows, it was a treat to have her with them for awhile.
“You going for a picnic?” Aaron asked one morning, seeing the two young women about to leave the h
ouse.
“Yep, up on the ridge,” Darcy said, brightly.
“Shush,” Abigail said, nudging her friend with her elbow, hoping that her husband hadn’t heard the destination.
“The ridge?” Aaron asked. His eyes narrowed as he looked at his wife.
“She didn’t mean the ridge, she just meant the meadow,” Darcy corrected herself. “We’re going to the meadow just above the rise.”
“Listen to me, no mountain climbing for you two, it’s just too dangerous.” He repeated a warning he’d given Abigail a dozen times already.
“C’mon Aaron,” Darcy argued. “You know, old sure-foot me?” She was putting on her flirtatious attitude, practically batting her eyelashes the way Abigail might. It was quite a charming addition to her repertoire of artful postures to get what she wanted.
“Did Abigail suggest this?” Aaron asked. “She’d better not.”
“Oh, no! It was all my idea.”
“And she was going with you?”
“Well, we hadn’t really decided on anything. I guess she was trying to talk me out of it. Said you didn’t like her going off that far?”
“That’s right. And the same goes for you. I’m much too busy with the mill, to be chasing after you. You’ll get lost, or some mountain lion comes after you.”
“You think I can’t take are of myself?” Darcy protested.
“I’m sure you can. It’s my wife I worry about.”
Abigail bristled. “You know, Aaron, sometimes you treat me like I’m a little kid,” she said, stomping her foot.
“Sometimes you act like a little kid,” Aaron observed. “You’d better behave, or you know what happens.”
She pursed her lips into a little pout, and said nothing.
“No change of plans. You understand?” He scrutinized her face looking for a sincere reply.
“Well …” she hedged.
“Abigail … You understand?” he asked again.
“Of course, I understand. How could I not,” she snapped. “Darcy and I will behave like two little lambs today, you have nothing to wont’ about.”
“Good,” he said, noting the sweet expression that replaced the annoyed one. He gave her a peck on the lips and left the house.
“Daminit! Sometimes I feel like I’m still in my father’s house,” Abigail said.
“Aw, he’s just being protective. I think it’s rather endearing.”
“Not if you feel like your every move is watched.”
“You’re being overly sensitive. We just won’t go up on the ridge. But we will have some fun, fun Aaron Barrow will never get wind of.”
“Oh? You have something special in mind?” Abigail asked her face suddenly brightening.
“Well,” Darcy considered for a minute. “I do know this old woman who lives a couple of miles from here, down the gorge. You can go down there, can’t you?”
“I suppose so,” she said. “Aaron’s never told me I couldn’t.”
“Good,” Darcy said. “That’s where we’ll go. And that old lady has a surprise I think you’ll love.” There was a devil’s grin on Darcy’s face that made Abigail wonder just what mischief her friend had in mind.
It was at least two miles to old Hannah’s house, it might have been longer, but it was hard to say: the terrain was diffi cult to traverse, nearly as risky as the ridge, though at least this wasn’t a steep vertical climb. By the time the two arrived at Old Hannah’s place they were exhausted.
“Darcy Greenwood!” the old woman greeted them. “Been years since I’ve seen you, girl. And where’s that old pappy of yours?”
“Gone far from me, Hannah,” Darcy said giving the woman a fond hug.
Old Hannah had a nearly toothless smile and her tattered dress looked ancient, but that hardly dampened her spirit or the welcome she gave them. I’m glad you came,” she said. “Just brewed up something really special for you, you’re going to love this.”
The old woman disappeared into her rickety cabin, and came back a few minutes later with two mugs in her hands. Darcy tasted the drink first, her eyes brightening instantly.
“I think this is just what you need,” she told Abigail. “Drink up.”
“What is it?” Abigail asked.
“Just try it,” Darcy encouraged her. “I swear it will make you forget all your troubles.”
Abigail took one long gulp of the liq-uid, and practically spit it out.
“Don’t waste it,” Darcy shouted at her.
“It’s terrible. It’s spirits isn’t it?” She couldn’t think of anything else.
“You have to get used to them, acquire a taste. But believe me, sometimes it’s well worth the trouble,” Hannah said.
Abigail took another drink, and then another. She’d had a little wine in her father’s house, but nothing like this, nothing that tasted so bad or had quite the effect that this did on her mind.
While they drank that afternoon, and ate the picnic that Abigail had made, the three women talked. It seemed their con versations about the mountains, and new settlers, and Darcy’s escapades, and Abigail’s feelings about her new home, could go on forever. Without really being aware of time passing, the day began to fade, the long afternoon shadows beginning to appear.
“Oh my, Darcy,” Abigail suddenly gasped, when she looked to see the sun now low in the sky. “Don’t you think we’d best get back?” Funny, it was difficult to talk. She was feeling light-headed and kind of silly, realizing that she was slurring her words.
“I suppose,” Darcy replied, in a languid stupor. She was feeling lethargic and giddy too.
“You two should wait a bit,” Hannah said. ” Let the spirits wear off.”
“Oh, but I can’t,” Abigail exclaimed. “If I’m not home to fix Aaron his supper, he’ll be spitting mad at me.”
“Ah, men can wait,” Hannah said, “No, not this one,” Abigail assured her.
“Well, suit yourself,” the old woman said, shaking her head. “I sure wouldn’t let a man dictate my life. You just be careful in that gorge. It can be pretty tricky after a few mugs of my brew.’
“Aw, it’s a straight shot,” Darcy assured her. “Just a couple miles and we’re home.”
Abigail and Darcy set off on the trail that they’d followed earlier in the day. It was a different kind of light filtering through the trees, and with the sunshine receding, there were far more shadows than they remembered at the height of day. Halfway back to the mill and Abigail’s house, the fork in the riverbed confused them; neither one, with their restricted senses could recall which direction they should take. Choosing a trail, simply because they had to make a decision, they followed a path deep into a darker woods than they ever remembered.
After a time, Abigail suddenly stopped in her tracks,” I think we’re lost,” she said. She was feeling dizzy and not too well, and though Darcy wouldn’t admit it, she was feeling much the same way herself. “Maybe we should rest here a bit, get a little strength. I think there’s still some bread in the pack. We’ll go back an take the other trail, maybe that’s the right one.”
“Darcy, it’s getting dark,” Abigail reminded her friend. “If we’re not back home soon, Aaron’s going to have a fit.
Renewing her strength with pictures of a grim faced husband appearing in her mind, Abigail doubled back down the shad owy trail with Darcy following close at her heels. By the time the two reached the fork in the riverbed, the light was diminishing fast, the dark, the shadows, and fear creep-ing in around Abigail. Disaster was waiting, she was sure of it.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Darcy asked, when they paused a moment.
“I’m not used to this. I don’t know whether to be scared most of being lost in dark, or Aaron.”
“We’ll get home, don’t worry, and when we do, just use a little finagling with Aaron. We’ll claim we just made a wrong turn, every one does that every so often. He can only be glad that we’re home when we finally get there.”
“I hop
e you’re right.”
Halfway down the new terrain, the two clung to the sides of the bank and tightly to each other. The drop off at their sides looked much more steep than it had that morning, so they had to go slower than ever. When they finally reached the house, it was night, a starry sky shone down on them as they made their way to the Barrow’s front steps.
“Good God! It is you!” Aaron shouted. They’d seen him pacing on the porch. “Aaron!” Abigail started to dash forward.
“Where the hell have you been?” he hugged his wife tight, but then pushed her away, a stem eye looking into hers.
`Oh, we’ve been lost, Aaron. We took the wrong turn down river, and traipsed a whole two miles in the wrong direction. I’m so glad I’m home.” She fell against her husband’s chest, while his arms comforted her shivering form.
“Lost was it?” Aaron said suspiciously. The smell of liquor was undeniable both on his wife and her rowdy friend.
“Say, I think I’ll grab a slab of bread and some cheese and hit the sack,” Darcy exclaimed when they were safe inside again.
“Me too, I’m exhausted,” Abigail admitted. She was on the way to the kitchen.
“Hey, not so fast, you two,” Aaron stopped them both in their tracks with a commanding voice.
“Oh, Aaron,” Darcy whined. “You’re not going to lecture us or something,” she asked seeing the stem grimace on his face.
“In the parlor, please,” he ordered, his voice rising clearly.
Knowing not to argue with Aaron, the two women retreated to the parlor and sat side by side on the settee, as Aaron stood over them with a fixed stare that would pen-etrate an iron vault.
‘Now, my fair brats, tell me why you’re both reeking like a mountain still,’
“What do you mean reeking like a mountain still?” Darcy jumped in, almost defying Aaron to be annoyed by the fact. “You think I don’t know the smell of mountain spirits?” he said. “Where’ve you been?”
“It was just a little, Aaron,” Darcy droned.
“Abigail, you want to tell me the truth?” he asked turning to his wife.
Abigail looked at Darcy, who looked at Abigail. The redhead was pretty flippant, and Abigail would be too, except that she wasn’t thinking very clearly and she was too tired to make up a story that Aaron would believe.
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