Prairie Hearts

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Prairie Hearts Page 14

by J. B. Marsden


  “Is Mr. Red Fox safe? I never saw an Indian I could trust back in the Hudson Valley. They murdered neighbors back home.”

  Carrie kenned Emma’s clipped speech and stiffness.

  Moose pontificated as only he could. “Kickapoo most want to live and let live. They don’t take kindly to being helped. It is why they skedaddled to Missouri when given the chance. The pioneers began to be too close for comfort. They caused a few ruckuses afore we all got here. But I never heard of any meanness since I started my trading station.”

  Laura put in, “They are right polite around us. I like ’em fine.”

  Emma looked to Carrie. “How do you fare? Are you feeling back to your usual strength?”

  All eyes looked to Carrie and she blushed.

  Laura spoke. “I kin tell she ain’t back to herself. She still looks a little peaked to me.”

  “I do fine.”

  Emma touched her arm. “You take it easy for a day or two. No heavy chores.”

  “I will make certain she don’t overdo.”

  Carrie changed the subject. “I saw Mrs. Conner at preaching this morn. She takes the youn’uns’ loss hard.”

  “Conner’s been off the place since the burying. Hunting, I reckon. They’ve had a hard time. He came into the station to get some shot and powder right after the burying.”

  “We’ll share what we can with them,” Laura said.

  After the dinner had been cleared, Moose and James smoked their pipes and Laura and Nancy looked after the babes. The boys went off to play.

  Carrie and Emma naturally gravitated toward each other to sit under the shade of the oak.

  “I hear you brought garden produce to share with Mrs. Conner. I brought milk and cheese this morn as well.”

  “Mayhap, if we had kenned their plight and helped sooner, the young’uns would’ve made it through the fever.”

  “Mayhap,” Emma said. “Conner never was one to take help from the other men. He’s very prideful.”

  “His pride may be the ruin of him. I feel sorry for his wife.”

  “As do I.” Emma sighed. “His words frightened me at the burying.”

  “Are you afeard he may make mischief with you? I worry about ye all alone at your place.”

  Emma tensed her neck and shoulders, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “Oh, honey, I ken your fear.”

  The tears fell down Emma’s cheeks and Carrie’s heart warmed. She gathered her in a side hug.

  “Mayhap, I can come stay at your place with you.”

  “No, sweeting. James and Laura need you here.”

  Carrie steeled her mind to speak. “If I stay nights, I can make it back here afore chores.”

  Emma’s eyes brightened. “Could you? You’re still recovering from your own sickness. You’d be putting yourself to extra trouble just for me.” Now her eyes held worry.

  Carrie wanted nothing more than to be close to Emma. “It’d please me. I can talk to James and Laura. I reckon they’ll see your predicament.”

  Moose and Nancy and their children left.

  Emma, Carrie, Laura, and James congregated and talked in the yard under the oak.

  Carrie took a space in the conversation to broach her thoughts. “Emma and I ken her plight about Conner. We’re both afeard he may come and make mischief at her place. I reckoned I could stay nights at her cabin. I wouldn’t shirk my duties here with you, James. What do you both think on this?”

  Laura’s eyes twinkled. She looked to James.

  James took off his hat, scrubbed his head, and knitted his brows. “Hmm. I’m with ye about Emma living on her lonesome up to Locust Hill, what with Conner and the words he spoke at the burying.” He looked off into the distance. “We can try, see how you do.”

  “I don’t want Carrie running around too awful much. She ain’t got her full strength. I reckon we can do without you at the sunrise chores, honey. Until you make certain it won’t tax you.” Laura looked knowingly at Emma.

  “If I stay with Emma for a week and then see how things go…”

  “That mayhap is the best course. See how it goes, after a week. I can make a go without you at morning chores, like Laura said. Now the crops are laid by until harvest, the pigs and pullets are growing like weeds. Josh is a good help with all that. George can learn now, he’s eight. I say, go to Emma’s for a week, at nights, and we’ll confab after the Independence Day frolic.”

  Carrie beamed. Her heart skipped. With a broad smile, she said, “Thank ye, James. I’ll not let you down. I know where my duty lies.”

  Maisey brought Emma and Carrie at a slow trot through the late afternoon.

  Emma dismounted and ran to the cabin to light candles while Carrie put Maisey in with Emma’s livestock and fed them all.

  Her arms full of firewood, Carrie clattered to the fireplace and dumped her load.

  “Thank ye, sweeting.” Emma looked at Carrie lovingly. “I’m so pleased to have you here.” She grasped her shoulders and kissed her with a swift peck on the lips.

  Pulling her closer, Carrie hugged Emma and sighed. “I’m tickled to help you, if my being here keeps you safe.”

  “I feel safer with you here. I love you, my sweet.”

  “Oh, Emma. I love you, as well.”

  They stayed in a hug until Emma drew away. “I’ll make us some tea. Sit down and rest. You are not to do any chores.” Carrie’s eyes still had blue rings. “I do not want any recurrence of your fever. Rest.”

  “Rest is for the dead.” Carrie laughed lightly.

  “Pshaw. Sit ye down.”

  Emma stoked the fire and put the kettle on the hob. Carrie sighed again and sat.

  “Here we go.” Emma sat a pot of tea on the table and gathered cups, milk, and maple sugar.

  “You’ll spoil me.”

  Emma gazed softly into Carrie’s eyes. “You need some spoiling, I suspect. Did your ma ever do for you?”

  Carrie looked down at her cup. “She died when I was but a wee thing. I don’t recall much about her. Pa did his best with me, I reckon. I fended for myself afore he married again. Learned cooking for us both. Kept house after a fashion. Our cabin was not the cleanest. If other wives stopped over, they helped put it right. Pa didn’t mind the mess. I did the washing and mending, but was not very able at it, either.” Carrie chuckled. “I once put a patch on his breeches that came off the next day. He never scolded me about my failings. He was a gentle man. I miss him. Don’t have enough memories to miss Ma.”

  “I never had to do any housework until we moved out here. My mother had Widow Baines, a washerwoman and house maid, so I never learned such at home. I had an awakening when Mother died on the trail and Father and I alighted with only a few household goods and the cattle he herded with us. I took to housework because I needed to. He helped where he could, but Nancy Mumford, bless her, came by to teach me how to tend the chickens and make goat’s cheese. Without Moose and Nancy, Father and I would have been a sight to see.”

  “I ken you have taken to the housework like I never did. When Pa wed again, I hightailed it out to the fields as soon as I could. I was happy out farming in the fresh air and sunshine. Pa learned me all the farming I know, and it’s how I can be such a help to James now. James and I kept on farming together after Pa and Mary Lou died of the yellow fever. He wed Laura while they still lived, so I never again had to work the house. Laura was born a housewife and mother, I reckon.”

  Emma looked sweetly at Carrie, enjoying their time to get to know one another better. “Daylight will come quickly. Let’s get to bed and get you some rest.”

  Carrie leaned over to peck Emma on the lips. “I…Can we sleep in the same bed?” Her bright eyes took away Emma’s breath.

  “Yes, sweeting. If it pleases ye, we can use my parents bed.”

  Emma felt so safe next to Carrie’s warm body. She took the liberty of kissing her before settling in. “Sleep well, sweeting.”

  “And you, honey.”

 
Her muscular back nestled into Emma’s arms all night. Emma slept soundly, happy that Carrie rested with her.

  Early the next morning, she stroked Carrie’s hair gently so as not to wake her. Her rooster nearly always crowed a full hour before sunrise, so she rose carefully from the sheet that covered them and got the fire going for breakfast before Carrie needed to mount Maisey.

  Carrie soon appeared, fully dressed, coming to Emma and embracing her. “You’re a beautiful way to meet the day, my honey pie.” She leaned in and kissed her soundly.

  Emma deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around Carrie’s neck. “As are you, my sweeting.” She returned to put the kettle over the cookfire. “What do you eat to break your fast? I can cook eggs with salt pork and biscuits. Too warm for porridge this day, I think.”

  “I’m out to milk.” Carrie kissed her nape from behind.

  Emma turned from the fire and grabbed Carrie’s hand to stay her. “You will not,” she said heatedly.

  “But—”

  “No. James said you’re to hold off the early chores, so it will also be here at my house. Sit ye down.”

  “Emma.” Carrie frowned. “James didn’t mean here as well. Milking doesn’t tax me. Don’t be stubborn.”

  “I say what happens at my house. Now, sit.” Still holding onto Carrie, she carefully led her to the table. “Do not balk. The milking can wait until we’ve eaten and you’re on your way.” Emma stood with her arms crossed, holding her ground. It was just like Carrie to overdo and Emma’s job to stay her from doing too much.

  Carrie raised her eyes and sighed. She kissed Emma again and whispered into her ear. “I ken a wee war between us. Are you the general?” She chuckled, gripping her tightly in strong arms.

  “Aye, call me General Reynolds.”

  “Aye, General.” Carrie stepped out of the hug and slipped out the door. “I’ll bring in water,” she called.

  Emma moaned and whispered to the empty cabin, “Carrie, my sweet, stubborn friend.” She made breakfast.

  After their hearty meal, Emma insisted that Carrie be on her way. “I confess to loving having you here.”

  They came together again, kissed, and held each other.

  “I’ll see you at candle-lighting. Be safe, my love.”

  “Aye. Take care, my sweet. I long for your return.”

  On the way to Emma’s for the second night, Carrie stopped by the Conner cabin, fretting about whether Conner had returned.

  Conner came out of the cabin with his wife.

  “What’s your business here?” Conner asked gruffly.

  Carrie held the sack of vegetables to him. “We have aplenty James wanted to share.”

  Conner didn’t take the sack. “Get off’n my land. We don’t need your charity.”

  She dropped the sack on the ground at Maisey’s feet.

  Mrs. Conner’s eyes widened.

  “Mrs. Conner, don’t let him run you. You can let ’em rot, Conner, but know that we all ken your ways. Good night.” She reined Maisey and cantered away, her heart pounding. “Prideful, ignorant mule,” Carrie said under her breath. “Poor Mrs. Conner, to have a man such as that.” She was furious.

  By the time Carrie trotted into Emma’s yard, light shone from the cabin windows. She still seethed.

  She knocked on the door. Emma looked radiant as Carrie came into her arms.

  Emma drew back, caressing Carrie’s cheek. “You’re stiff as a board, sweeting. What troubles you?”

  “I dropped off a sack from the garden at Conner’s. He acted like an ass.” Carrie looked sheepishly at Emma. “Forgive my bluntness.”

  “Never fret about speaking your mind with me. What did he do?”

  “Told me to vacate the premises. Wouldn’t take the sack, so I dropped it and went on my way.”

  A mule clopped toward the cabin.

  Staying atop his ride, Conner cried out, “You two together. I shoulda kenned. Stay clear of my wife and me. I don’t want to see your faces, ye hear?”

  Carrie stepped between Conner and Emma. “We hear ye very well. Be on your way.”

  “Not till I have my say. Y’all so high and mighty. We ain’t your project. Mind your own knitting. The Conners never took charity and we ain’t about to start now. It was your doing that kilt my young’uns. I have a hankering to sic the Squire on ye both. Kerr woulda made ’em well. But you witches with your evil concoctions kilt ’em and I’ll never let you forget it.”

  Emma began to speak. “Mr. Conner—”

  Carrie stopped her with her arm, murmuring, “No, Emma.” She turned back to Conner and said, “Mrs. Wallace still lives because of Emma’s healing. Others in these parts don’t hold with your accusations. Your young’uns couldn’t be saved, by Mr. Kerr or us.”

  “She done kilt the Ford woman. What say ye to that?”

  “Mrs. Ford died in childbirth, like many a woman. No man, including Kerr, can do a better job as midwife. Look at the all the others that Emma brought through the throes of birthing. We grieve for your young’uns, just like you and Mrs. Conner, and we all grieved the loss of Mrs. Ford. You’re only looking at the few who didn’t fare well, but it ain’t on Emma that the Good Lord chose to take ’em. Now, be on your way, Conner.”

  Conner harrumphed and reined his mule down the track. He called over his shoulder. “I got my eye on you two. Witches working black magic.”

  Carrie gathered Emma to her. “Don’t take his words to heart, honey.”

  “He is an odious man.”

  “If that means he’s hateful, aye, that he is.”

  Emma brought Carrie to a large bucket sitting on the table full of leaves from her herb garden. “We have more leaves to string. My garden does well, but we do need rain.”

  Carrie paced.

  “Come here, sweeting.” Emma hugged her. “Let’s do some work. Take our mind off our troubles.”

  Carrie blew out a large breath. “Aye. Where’s your string?”

  They occupied themselves with the herbs and talked of their gardens, until Carrie yawned.

  “Time to retire.”

  Carrie looked tenderly on Emma. “Aye.”

  They dressed for bed. Carrie came to Emma, both of them in their nightclothes. She hugged her tightly. They kissed for a long time. Carrie led them to the bed. “I want…”

  “What do you want, sweet Carrie?”

  Carrie drew Emma to her and laid her down. She caressed her shoulders and kissed her deeply. Her hands stroked the side of her breasts.

  Emma’s heart beat quicker with each caress, the ache of want building deep inside. “Please touch me.”

  “I…How do you want…”

  Emma guided her hand to the front of her breast. Carrie inhaled sharply and stroked each of Emma’s breasts in turn. “Like this?”

  “Aye.” Emma moaned softly. “Just so.”

  Carrie’s breathing sped up. “Oh, honey. You feel so good.”

  Emma snuggled closer and touched Carrie’s breasts through her nightshirt, feeling soft, small mounds and tightening nipples. Low throbbing rose deeply within her. She brought her legs around Carrie’s middle and rubbed her ache rhythmically against her. “More.”

  They rubbed their centers. Emma had never felt this bliss. Longing mounted in waves and she sought Carrie’s flesh until she could stand no more. She cried out with her release as her whole body crested with glorious pleasure. “Oh, heavens.”

  Carrie drew back, her eyes like startled rabbits. “Did I hurt you, love?”

  Emma barely had words. She rasped, “Don’t stop. So wonderful.”

  Emma’s breath slowed. She pushed the nightshirt up Carrie’s torso until she found Carrie’s bushy mound and stroked.

  “Lord ’a mercy.” Carrie’s hips bucked into Emma’s strokes, pushing closer to her. Finally, Carrie stiffened and trembled when she found her own release. She murmured and a let out a deep rumble.

  Emma laid her head on Carrie’s beating chest. Emma laughed lightly. �
��Yes, my sweet.”

  Carrie breathed like a horse galloping. She laid back and gathered her breath. “Emma. What…?”

  Emma took her in her arms. “My love. My sweet. How I love you.” She kissed her deeply, sweeping her tongue along Carrie’s lips. “You…We made love.”

  “I didn’t know how it could be. You and me, we’re like James and Laura. This is love, for certain.”

  “Aye, love. Are you…have you recovered?” Emma caressed Carrie’s soft cheek, her heart about to beat out of her own chest.

  Carrie pecked Emma’s lips. “You gave me the world. Such heavenly touches. Thank ye, my darlin’ Emma.”

  They held each other’s eyes, mouths wide with smiles.

  Emma cuddled into the crook of Carrie’s arm as they shared sweet caresses and murmurings. Emma finally heard Carrie breathe rhythmically into sleep.

  The next morn, the rooster woke them both.

  Emma reached for Carrie. “How do ye this morn?” she asked, slowly and tenderly running her hands through Carrie’s hair.

  Carrie kissed her. “I do well.” Carrie grinned bashfully. “And you?”

  “I love you, Carrie Fletcher.”

  “I love you, Emma Reynolds. Did James ken we would find such bliss in each other’s arms last night? I think not.”

  Emma smiled the way only a woman in love could. “Mayhap Laura kenned the feelings deep inside us.”

  “Laura. Aye.” She heaved a sigh. “Did you ever…?”

  “I have not with any other soul felt the bliss we felt last evening.”

  “How did you know what to ask for?”

  “I didn’t know. I followed my heart. Then my body spoke to my heart.”

  “I like the language of your body. My body responded to your loving touches. So much delight. Never have I felt such.”

 

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