After the Second Fall Pt. 03.2

After a pause, the man grinned; his partner did the same.

As right-guy's arm came up, Pip slowed time and stepped forward, grabbing the hostile wrist and holding it out of the way. In a panic, the man fired. Left-guy screamed and fell while both horses jumped and right-guy with thrown. With Pip still holding the man's wrist firmly, gravity worked with his superior strength and unhardened bones snapped; the gun dropped from limp fingers.

Pip picked up the weapon and threw it down the road where it could be recovered later, then went to assess the damage.

The rider that had fallen during the initial confrontation was sitting solemnly, holding his wrist like it was fractured, but at least no bones were protruding.

Right-guy wasn't so fortunate: his forearm had broken badly, obviously, and he was retching and crying.

Left-guy was moaning and holding his side, barely conscious; his head was bloody, too, probably from the fall. Not good.

Pip gave two shrill whistles, then a third. Lucille, Rachel, and the others were soon there, although Mitsy and Linda held the children back.

"Is there anything to be done?" Rachel asked.

Nodding to the youngest, Pip answered, "I'll see if it feels like I need to reset any bones, then we can make a splint. As for the other two, take a look, but I don't think there's much I can do for them."

Rachel took a step, but Lucille grabbed her shoulder. "I know them."

In half a hundred beats, the matron joined Pip as he leaned over the youngest of the four men.

"Bertrand will be gone in a bell. Ralph might make it a day or two, but I don't think there's anything they can do in Fitzen. How are you, Jeremiah?"

"Not so good, Mrs. Crannert," the young man answered, still sitting in the dirt.

Pip sat back on his heels, addressing Lucille and this Jeremiah simultaneously. "I'm pretty certain the bone in the arm is cracked, but the wrist feels stable, which is good. We should wrap it up tight until a professional can take a better look. How far away is the nearest doctor?"

"There's no doctor," Lucille answered, "not for a lot of years."

With a sigh, Pip stood, helping the injured man to his feet.

"You're the one that tried to speak up when we met the last time, aren't you."

"Yes, sir."

Pip nodded. "Thanks, and I'm sorry you got hurt. I was hoping this could be resolved some other way, but..."

Jeremiah nodded. "When Paul gets something in his head, there's no talking him out of it. He was mad for a week that he didn't shoot you that first time."

"Why?" asked Pip, his face a mixture of frustration and confusion.

Instead of answering, Jeremiah shrugged.

"It's okay," said Pip after a moment, "I already know why. Did something happen here with people my size -- maybe some sort of violence?"

The young man didn't have an answer, so he looked to Lucille for help, but she didn't respond.

"Do you hate me, too?" Pip asked her, but she shook her head and gave him a smile.

"You've been nothing but kind to us, Pip. Why would I hate you?"

After looking down for a few beats, Pip gathered Lucille into his arms and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Thank you. That's probably the nicest thing I've heard from anybody except Rachel since we left the city. It's good to hear that not everybody judges me by how I look."

When she was back on the ground again, Lucille cocked her head and looked at him appraisingly. "I'm just speaking for myself, but I've been judging how you look since you first got here." With a smirk, she took Jeremiah's arm and led him toward the main house.

Pip chuckled and turned to find Rachel standing there. "I think Lucille was flirting with me."

"Probably. She likes your butt," Rachel replied, but her usual warmth was missing.

"Should I go take care of the other two?"

Rachel shook her head, then tucked herself into his side, letting the shovel she had been holding fall to the ground. "It's already done."

Chapter 10

"What is it a Sheriff does exactly?" Pip asked Jeremiah. They were walking side-by-side, checking the pasture fence for damage as they went.

"Mostly just tells people what to do. You don't have a Sheriff in the city?"

Shaking his head, Pip replied, "I don't think so. The Meister gives most of the orders, I guess. We have constables, but I think they just keep the people in the city from fighting or breaking things."

"Or stealing?"

"Yeah, that, too."

Jeremiah nodded. "That's kind of like a Sheriff then." They walked another hundred steps. "Paul wasn't all bad. He was hard and pretty mean, but he did try to help people when he could."

"Is that why they made him Sheriff?"

"Nobody made Paul Sheriff," Jeremiah responded with some distaste. "The way they told me, he showed up with a gun and told everybody he was going to take care of them. There was some trouble one day and he shot a guy that was trying to beat on his wife. After that, folks didn't mind so much."

"They paid him?"

"A couple dozen chits a day, altogether. I get two for helping and the boys got three for being deputies."

"What will you do now?" A now familiar shrug was the only answer Pip received. "You could stay here, you know. With Bert gone, the ladies could use the help."

"They don't want me," replied Jeremiah dejectedly.

"Who?"

There was a long pause before the young man answered. "Mitsy."

Pip's stomach dropped. "Were you two together?"

"Only when I dreamed."

The rest of their inspection circuit took more than a bell, but neither of them spoke; Jeremiah gave a sad wave as they parted upon their return to the house. In other circumstances, Pip would have gone to Rosie or Rachel for advice -- maybe even Maggie, if sex was involved -- but he was supposed to be growing, so instead he went to see Mitsy.

Confined to bed, the young woman looked utterly miserable. She was sweating in the mid-Summer heat, hair plastered to her face. "Get it out, Pip. Reach in and pull it out."

"Mitsy," he chided gently, holding up an arm, "have you see the size of my hands?"

"Fine," she pouted as a smile broke through.

"You look beautiful," Pip said, leaning down to kiss her forehead, and she did. Despite the flushed skin and obvious exhaustion, her natural beauty had been enhanced, transforming day by day from young woman to mother. "Is there anything I can do for you that doesn't involve removing the baby?"

"Just sit with me for a while."

He lowered himself onto the floor by the bed, running a finger lightly up and down her cheek. Mitsy mewled softly and closed her eyes.

It wasn't a hundred beats later that she kicked out and woke with a start; she pulled up her shirt and smacked her belly with the flat of her hand. "Knock if off in there, you hear me?"

"Did you just --"

"Yes, I fight with my baby. He does it on purpose: kicks me when he wants to play. Watch," she directed, then poked her stomach. Immediately her finger was pushed away by a little foot or elbow. She tried another spot and the same thing happened. "He's feisty," she said with mock annoyance, but Pip could see she was proud underneath the bunched eyebrows; she was already massaging her tummy soothingly.

Pip watched, generally amazed at the entire thing. "How do you know it's a boy?"

"No girl is this much of a handful. Plus, look how big I am. Seriously, I still have almost a month to go and I can barely walk."

He nodded acceptance: it seemed logical and he had no grounds to argue otherwise.

"Have you thought about after he's born -- what you'll do, I mean?"

The look that Mitsy sent his way helped Pip know immediately that he had said something stupid. He turned away from her and continued his light touches, not sure how to recover.

With a sigh, she said, "Yes, Pip. Stuck here in bed, thinking about the future is about all I do. What do you actually want to ask?"

"Nothing, actually. I was just wondering if you already knew how much Jeremiah likes you."

There was a long silence and Pip figured he had said something wrong again. He was thinking about how to politely leave when Mitsy spoke.

"Why do you say that?" Her voice was quiet.

Pip slowed time and studied Mitsy without looking at her directly. Her eyes were focused, but not angry, and her cheeks were a little redder than before. "He told me he dreams of you."

Mitsy's breath caught, then she released it slowly, relaxing back into the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

"Could you... maybe... suggest that he come see me some time?" She levered herself back up on a the near side forearm. "But don't tell him that I asked, okay?"

Pip nodded seriously, looking into Mitsy's eyes until she seemed satisfied and plopped back with a grin.

"I'll go right now," he said enthusiastically, standing and stepping away. Mitsy lunged for his arm and missed, just about falling out of bed; she would have if Pip wouldn't have caught her. Seeing his smirk, her eyes narrowed.

"You did that on purpose."

He shrugged, doing a fair imitation of Jeremiah, which made Mitsy giggle, then laugh. Pip leaned down and gave her a warm, loving kiss, then left with a smile and a wave.

The next morning after breakfast Jeremiah stopped by, just to see how Mitsy was feeling.

After that, he wasn't around for chores much.

A week later, Mitsy's shrill scream brought most of the family running; it was mid-afternoon and the sky was the color of steel, lending an ominous tone to the day.

One of the sister-cousins was first to reach her, but Lucille quickly shooed her and the rest of the gaggle out, all except Rachel. Mitsy was flushed and holding tightly to Jeremiah's hand, whose pants were still around his ankles. "Did he make you cum?" she asked Mitsy, who nodded, then groaned and squeezed the hand tighter. "Sometimes that triggers labor to start," Lucille told Rachel knowingly. "Stay here with them and I'll go get what we need."

"What do I do?" Rachel asked uncertainly.

"Well, if the baby comes, try not to drop it. And Jeremiah," she said sternly, "pull up your pants."

Fortunately, Lucille was an old hand at delivery and the birthing process proceeded smoothly, right up until Jeremiah passed out and hit his head on the floor. Rachel, meanwhile, was fascinated and helped where she could. In the last moments, it was the former director that was holding Mitsy's hand, whispering sweet and naughty thoughts into her ear.

Mitsy woke several bells later in a panic, disoriented and sore; Jeremiah was there. With a happy shout he brought others. Lucille was first through the door, looking proud as only a new grandmother can. Behind her came Rachel, whose wink made Mitsy blush. Last was Pip, holding a swaddled somebody close to his chest.

The baby looked huge, even in Pip's enormous hands. Its skin was dark, like his, and there was a full head of shockingly red hair.

"How did that happen?" Mitsy asked the room, but nobody replied. Instead, Pip handed the bundle to her, and suddenly, nothing else mattered at all.

"What would you like to name her?" Lucille asked.

After blinking several times, Mitsy unwrapped the package sitting on her chest, checking it over disbelievingly. Glancing up, she saw Pip smirking and stuck her tongue out at him, then turned to her mother. "Bethany."

As they left the room, Rachel felt like she had no control on her emotions whatsoever. She wanted to cry while singing and dancing; instead, she grabbed Pip's hand and dragged him back to their room, where she worked out her feelings in very tangible ways.

In the morning, Rachel guessed she was probably as sore as Mitsy as she hobbled to see how her young friend was healing. They sat together that morning in bed, passing Bethany back and forth, marveling over the vivid hair and light eyes. After Rachel brought back lunch for them to share, they dozed together while Bethany napped, one of five that day.

The following day was more of the same, and Jeremiah was finding it hard to understand. "They're a thing then?" he asked Pip softly while they stood outside Mitsy's room.

"Yes, but not like you're afraid of. Give them both a little while to get over the shock."

The following day Mitsy started to move around, finally abandoning her well-used bedpan in favor of a trip to the comparatively luxurious outhouse. Lunch as a family was wonderfully chaotic, since it was the first time most of the clan had gotten a chance to see and touch and hold Bethany. Through it all, Rachel sat on Pip's lap and cried, celebrating and grieving at once.

When the gathering broke up and Mitsy carried Bethany slowly back to her room, it was Jeremiah that went with her.

"I think it's almost time to leave," Pip told Rachel that same night as they laid in the cold grass, sharing a blanket and staring up at the stars.

"Soon," she replied, wiggling closer and closing her eyes. "You still have some work to do."

"You mean wait for Linda's baby to come?"

He felt Rachel shrug. "We can, but that's probably still two or three months away. Mitsy wants another."

Pip took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She told you this?"

"She didn't have to," Rachel replied easily.

"What about Jeremiah?"

She didn't answer and Pip grunted, frustrated that Rachel wouldn't help him figure things out anymore. Well, that wasn't quite true: she wouldn't tell him what to do, which was almost as bad.

"What does Lucille think?" he asked, figuring it might be possible to get Rachel to inadvertently offer advice by talking about the farm's matriarch.

"Ask her."

Nope, no help at all.

He was considering giving up thinking about anything for the night, since this whole situation was just so far beyond his previous experience.

"What do you want to do?"

Her question, tossed out casually just as he began to sit up, made him stop.

"Don't think so much, Pip. Your instincts are usually great, so just go with them."

His head started bobbing slowly, then faster, as he saw clearly what he wanted. In a continuous, fluid motion, he snatched up Rachel and flipped her up into her arms, then walked purposely back to their room with her giggling the entire way.

The next morning, Rachel woke with a smile, feeling both rested and satiated, trailing a finger tip across a still sensitive nipple. "I like it when you're decisive."

"I like you all the time," he responded with his own self-satisfied grin.

Rachel's smile faded and she sat up, her eyes alert. "You figured it out, didn't you -- what you want to do?"

He nodded cautiously.

Studying his face, Rachel allowed her mind to run, free to follow well-worn thought paths or chase obscure, overgrown rabbit trail-like notions. It was a hundred beats before she came back to herself, then she smiled wickedly. "I like it, Pip, a lot. I can't wait."

Pip looked back at her suspiciously. He knew better than to doubt Rachel, but he hadn't even said anything.

For her part, Rachel didn't seem to care. She was already getting dressed, moving with a purposefulness that hadn't been present since Mitsy gave birth. "I can't wait to see her face," she enthused.

As they walked to the dining room where the family shared breakfast, Rachel's expression was pleasantly neutral and she seemed quite calm, but Pip knew she was excited from the extra bounce in each step and the way the corner of her mouth kept ticking up. He was consequently quite surprised when the meal ended without incident and he found himself moving toward the day's tasks.

He was equally surprised when Rachel and Lucille met him in the field shortly before he had planned to break for lunch. Pip nodded to them and straightened, throwing a big handful of potatoes into a nearby cart.

There was an awkward moment as he approached, where Lucille looked at him, then Rachel, then back to him again. He watched her with a curious expression, which seemed to fluster her even worse.

"We brought food," she finally managed, holding up the basket she was carrying, then she closed her eyes and started berating herself silently.

Before he could act, Rachel stepped close and whispered something into Lucille's ear, causing her to shudder and then nod. Without opening her eyes, Lucille set the basket down and started disrobing.

Pip's eyes shot wide and flashed to Rachel, whose smile was predatory. "This is what you had in mind, isn't it, Pip?" she asked, then went back to whispering to Lucille while using her hands to tease.

He nodded slowly, then met Lucille's eyes, which had finally opened. Pip could see her desire for him, but also genuine affection. It made him feel warm, so he shut his eyes and concentrated on how the feeling was spreading, through his chest and down his extremities. When he looked again, he let his gaze roam, over Lucille's large breasts and amazing, wide nipples; across her muscular shoulders and thighs; down to her surprisingly dainty ankles and feet.

There, by her right foot, a small puddle was forming in the dirt, fed by a barely visible trickle running down her thigh, past her knee, and over her calf. Lucille was vibrating with the combination of whatever Rachel was doing and the things she expected Pip to do, and it was clear she was nearing the edge of a climax already.

What had been a warm sensation quickly became hot, and a small smile formed on Pip's face, then rapidly grew. Already shirtless, he shucked his bottoms into the field somewhere, not caring in the least what happened to them. Looking down again, he saw that Lucille was now panting.

Her lips parted, her shaking increased, her fists clenched. With a bass groan she bucked violently and the flow down her leg became much heavier.

Pip surged forward, lifting the still orgasming woman into the air and then gradually sliding her down onto himself with one continuous motion, his cock guided by Rachel's skilled hand.

Lucille shrieked at the sensation and her fingers raked Pip's sides, trying to find purchase as his strong hands held her by the hips, moving her up and down slowly with ease. Without warning, a slap resounded, courtesy of Rachel, loud enough to echo off the nearby barn, and Lucille screamed again. It was only a few dozen beats before she started vibrating again, completely at Pip's whim and unable to hide from the naughtiness Rachel was inflicting upon her from behind.

In less than a hundred beats the couple tore another orgasm from Lucille, who was making incomprehensible noises continuously.

Barely coherent, she started hitting Pip's chest, chanting softly in time with the smacks, "Now -- Now -- Now --"

With his own grunt, Pip released himself, pulling Lucille down tightly onto his penis while his muscles clenched repeatedly.

He took in a huge intake of breath, then squatted, and finally sat back on the grass, still inside the woman on his lap. Lucille was murmuring sweet and sexy things to him, idly tracing his chest with a finger, but Pip wasn't sure she was actually conscious. He looked up to see Rachel shuddering with her own orgasm, one hand occupied with her clit while the other held onto Lucille's shoulder for support. Rachel's shaking continued until she finally dropped to a knee, then tilted over to lie on her side, shaking occasionally with aftershocks.

Pip let Lucile recover, holding her lovingly, until she roused about a quarter bell later. She looked up at him and he smiled, kissing her for the first time, then leaned forward to lay her on the grass. Their second session was much more tender, aided by Rachel's expertise regarding Lucille's body. Where her previous orgasms had been violent, her pleasure became luxurious, and she smiled continuously, even when Pip increased his pace to thrust into her more forcefully.

With the two women curled up together and dozing in the warmish sun, Pip quickly ate the food brought for him and returned to the field, looking over to them every so often and grinning.