Winding Creek

Lucas Blake stared into the last embers of his small cook fire as twilight surrendered to the deeper shadows of night. He'd near forgotten how quick day turned black before the moon 'n stars could give you an inklin' of what was about. Things that had been mostly second nature... Well now... He had to be think 'bout 'em. Two and a half years in a city were enough to dim his sense of smell, cloud his eyes and then damn near swallowed him up.

With Patch, the blue-black gelding hobbled in tall grass some ten feet away and the third-year colt another six-foot past that, he tried to get comfortable lyin' on the horsehair blanket with his slicker rolled and tied under his head. A meal of fresh rabbit and the smell of the coolin' night air added to the quiet, though not much helped with the ache from eight days in the saddle. After not sittin' one for any length of time durin' his spell in the city, it took no more than half a day for every muscle he hadn't used much to remind him of their whereabouts.

Didn't matter though, he was going home... And early at that.

The War with Mexico was coming to an end with more men dyin' from disease than battle. The certainty of the war back in '45 had J.D. sending him East. They had no dog in that fight. The fact that Lucas was back East 'for a bit more education' would temper any possible criticisms and if he caught on with the Taylors, might jist provide sum dividends. He'd done better than either of them had figured and truth be told, it was past time fer him to git.

J.D.s letter had gotten him in the door at Taylor & Sons, but it didn't take long before they saw his gift for numbers. Then things got movin' along a bit quicker than J.D. had figured. Luke had tried to play it off and for a time did, but Mr. Tucker, the Senior Accountant, saw he'd do somethin' that should take an hour in ten minutes, (and Luke had to force himself to take that long). The work steadily growed and it weren't long before he was checkin' others due diligence.

Not six months in and Dan Taylor, Mr. Taylors second son, met Luke outside the cramped boardin' house that took more 'n half his salary. The rope bed offered little comfort and the worn, wooden floor slept better; least it was clean. He took note when he saw his fathers favored messenger boy headin' his way.

"Evenin' Mr. Taylor."

There was little more than a half nod from the well-dressed man now peerin' at him through wire rimmed glasses.

"Tucker is accompanying my father for a two-week review with several of our client's books and their books. I want you to look at some of our own firm's records during the Senior Accountants absence. Total secrecy will be had."

"Yes sir."

And that was that. Again, the short nod and he was gone. That's the way it was done here in city. Nothin' much mattered other than a man's status. And now Lucas Blake was gitin' the chance to improve his.

It was less than six hours and after Lucas received the second set of books that he'd found a scheme to whittle down just a tad of profits over several of the larger, more detailed accounts at the end of each month. A week after finishing up the internal audit, they gave him a small office and his room at the boardin' house was nicely upgraded. And Mr. Tucker... He was horse whipped before takin' up residence in the local hoosgow fer near eighteen months.

Wasn't too long til Lucas started to like bein' called Mr. Blake. Soon after his promotion, he was allowed to attend the late afternoon discussions concernin' law and the fast-growin' country. The quiet politics that goes on behind closed doors weren't too far behind that. After several Sunday dinners at the Taylor's elegant home, it was Lucas that started travelin' with Mr. Taylor. More often than not, Lucas faded into the background and said little or nothin' during these times. Durin' their follow-up conversations that would often last 'til the wee hours of the mornin', Lucas's recall of facts and figures were the most impressive that Charles Taylor had ever seen.

Mr. Taylor started to treat Lucas better than well. He showed Luke some of the opportunities that a man of means had available to him. Music, fancy dinin' and some social events... At first Lucas would reluctantly attend when pestered to do so; In the beginnin' that is.

Things changed pretty quick again after he was introduced to the Diamond Club. Though not qualifyin' for membership, Lucas was allowed to attend by invite. Many business and political 'agreements' were often cobbled together at the Diamond, then finalized with no more than a handshake. And when a man needed some companionship, it was quietly made available.

Over time, Lucas learned of Mr. Taylors penchant for the much younger gals. Mr. Doyle, a lifelong family friend and confidant of the Taylors, liked his women heavy and 'Dee-mure' as he would often say, but then absolute whores when the time came for intimate pleasures. It was rumored that Robert, Mr. Taylors oldest son, liked watchin' others in the throes of passion without their knowledge. One evening, Luke overheard that that particular practice may have taken place inside Roberts own home. Lucas had suggested to the gossipin' man, with the tip of his secreted away skinning knife restin'under his chin, that such things shouldn't be said unless a man was certain and fer sure... And then only if he was ready to defend such statements.

The young man was gaining respect, and now, a bit of notoriety.

Daniel, Mr. Taylors second son, didn't dabble much at all with the ladies, preferrin' a good drink and more serious discussions with men. There'd been more than one night that he and Luke spent sharin' a drink while they jawed about the what ifs and what evers. After a few drinks, Daniel referred to these discussions as 'fee-loff-asee'.

It was at the Diamond that Lucas was introduced to Miss Molly, by none other than Mr. Charles Taylor hisself. The woman, somewhere in her thirties Luke figured, was both beautiful and well educated. Those that mattered treated her with admiration and respect. She'd often be at someone's shoulder durin' important events, smilin' softly and excusin' herself when the conversation turned to those things a woman had no need or part of.

Lucas Blake his own self liked the gals too, both socially and especially at the Diamond. He was more than pleased that some fancied him a bit. Standin' taller than most men and lean from the years of hard work, the young ladies at church or dinners and such, often blushed when he turned his pasture green eyes in their direction.

The 'shady ladies' at the Diamond made it pretty clear with their invitin' eyes and lingerin' touch that any intentions he might have would be more than welcomed. And truth be told, his aim were to enjoy as many of those intentions as he could figure.

His favored gal was Ada, a soft skinned 'saloon girl' with hair like a raven's wing. Her eyes weren't much different then her hair; a smokey like coal black that sometimes didn't do well hidin' facts. Those eyes reminded Luke of Linda, J.D.s youngest daughter. She'd be near marrin' age now. Luke never figured her as more than a load of trouble that kept J.D. on his tail most of the time... til now maybe.

Ada kept mostly out of the sun, shunnin' outside events and always wore some kind of dainty gloves. She was as close to Miss Molly as any of the girls Luke figured. She weren't there often though. When she was, she was fetchin' drinks and sometimes sharin' one. Luke enjoyed jist her company mostly, til Miss Molly put a bug in his ear.

"She favors you Lucas, but you should know there are other men that have taken notice too."

She brushed a little somethin' or other from his shoulder before her voice became lighter, damn near secretive.

"Miss Grace will be accompanying Charles on your upcoming business venture. She will need a chaperone of course. Ada might be able to make that trip under the right circumstances."

Didn't take more than the flicker of a cat's tail for the young man to make up his mind. Her company would be nice on the ten-day trip and Luke truly did enjoy Ada's company. He'd enjoy more than that, but Miss Molly said that weren't the situation. Payin' near what he'd make 'n a month when he first arrived were to be the cost.

Now Ada was older then Grace, who's purpose was to tend to Mr. Taylor. Ada, no more then a saloon girl now, were another matter. The thoughts that slipped through Lukes's mind were far more complicated than most might think.

Of course, the ladies traveled together, separate from their men. Mostly different cars on the train and jist close enough hotels when they arrived. The ladies took in the sights 'n shopped a little while the men tended business. Later in the evenin', a prearraigned meetin' would take place and would soon enough turn into the night's pleasure.

It was the third evenin' that Ada accepted Lukes invitation to join him in his room. Luke loved how Ada would coo and whimper when they eventually made love. Her mud-colored nipples and narrow waist pleased the young man to no end as she'd lay back on the bed with her thighs open and painted fingertips slowly strokin' her neatly trimmed pussy. Adas pussy, always open and wet, looked like a breedin' mares in heat. Lucas loved studyin' on that most pleasurable entrance to her body. He was taken by her openness when she answered most his questions. After they had relations, she'd wander about the hotel room nude, sometimes smokin' a small, tightly rolled cigar. And when the mood struck her, she'd wink at him and move the drawn curtains to look out the window, allowin' anyone lookin' up a clear view of the pleasures Luke was enjoyin'. She surely had Luke thinkin' 'bout future possibilities 'til one evenin' near the end of their trip.

The ladies had joined them and several of the men the Taylor company had been workin' with in a private dinin' room at a very nice restaurant near their hotel.

Luke was taken aback when Mr. Taylor took Ada by the hand and introduced her to the owner of that business's son. Ada had only glanced at Luke when the young lad kissed her hand, then led her away from the from the rest of them. It was Miss Graces hand that covered Lucas's when he started to rise to object.

"She made her decision last night Luke. Fifty dollars gold will go a long way to keep her boy in school."

Luke was crushed and soon left the gatherin'. He'd barely looked at Charles Taylor when he found him later in the evenin' at the saloon across the street.

"I wanted to tell you son, but you'd not listen if I did. She was meant as a gift for you Luke. A thank you if you will. The woman's married and does what she has to do to keep a roof over her and her family's head. And as we both know..."

He clapped the younger man on the back.

"...she is one fine piece off ass."

The chuckle that followed and the rest of Mr. Taylors words jist fell around Lukes ears. He weren't listenin' and Charles Taylor soon knew it. Luke saw no point in spendin' any more time with Ada and told her so. He thought he saw sadness in her eyes, but he weren't gonna change his mind. It was all bygones now.

Lucas weren't willing to plaster his hair down or wear a starched collared shirt under a vest and coat like most men in the too hot, bitter smellin' city, Lucas kept his hair clean and a bit longer than most, preferrin' a linen shirt and near a black broad cloth coat and pants. A string tie often appeared when the situation demanded it.

At the Diamond, he never had a harsh for the ladies who made their livin' there, even after Ada.

Luke had always remembered workin' the garden with his mother before he was old enough to tend the fields with his father. Sometimes she would stop and stare towards the bend in the old dirt road that turned west before it slowly disappeared over the rise.

"Always treat a woman with kindness and respect Luke. Never raise your hand to 'em and never make 'em feel small."

He'd hear those words often growin' up, sometimes accompanied by a stiffness in her walk or a bruise adornin' her worn cheek. It was shortly after his twelfth birthday when she asked him to stay for a bit and help with the waterin' as his father left for the fields.

"It's time to move on Lucas. Your mind's far too sharp to stay on a farm. You don't need another hoe broken across your back to know that. A wagon passed here yesterday headin' west. I let 'em fill their water barrels. They said if a young man had the grit, he could tag along... Help tend the stock and doin' chores and such."

Her chin lifted as her back stiffened lettin' him know her words were final and not to be tested.

"Lucas, I want you to gather up your clothes and if something holds a good memory, take it and go. If you put a good foot under you, you'll meet up with them late tonight or early tomorrow. Names Vincil."

She kissed his cheek.

"Never come back here Lucas. There's nothing here for ya. It's all bygones from here son."

She pressed two silver dollars into his palm and kissed his cheek for the last time.

"Now git."

Turnin', she hurried out and never looked back as he stood there in the leather hinged doorway gob smacked. Doin' as told, he caught sight of the Vincils as night fell. Lucas chose to linger aways back, watchin' and listenin' what went on in the camp. He needed to get a feel of what he might be gettin' hisself into. Didn't matter much though, what else was he goin' to do? Yet, it was a good habit he'd learned early, 'keep a sharp eye and stay quiet', savin' himself no tellin' how many beatin's.

The Vincils' seemed a Christian family. Orin, the father, was a hard man. Miss Leslie, a tall and willowy woman, tried to keep the man in check when he often lost his foul temper. They shared a girl and a younger boy.

Luke worked hard, ate last and spent as much time away from Orin as possible. The best memory he had from the near two-month trek from upstate Ohio to Missouri was scroungin' up a turkey huntin' one day, and then happenin' on Miss Leslie bathin' in a quick tumblin' creek maybe a twenty-minute walk behind the wagons.

Finding a spot that hid him well from her eyes, he marveled at how pale the woman was below the brown, weathered skin of her neck & face and above her work hardened hands. Her breasts were full and the tips of her large, pink nipples the color of an albino cat's eyes. He held his breath as they swayed with every movement of her hands as she scrubbed away the dust and dirt of the many miles traveled. As she lifted one foot and then the other, a thick, tangled, mass of hair hid her most private area from his eyes. A good two shades darker than that on her head, Luke wondered what mysteries lay beneath as she scooped up handfuls of the cool water and finished rinsin' her snow-white skin. Feelin' like he had pressed his luck as it were, he slowly back tracked a bit before cuttin' a wide circle back to the wagons.

He'd never forgotten Miss Leslie. It was her that he missed the most when a third family joined the group headin' west. The Vincils didn't need him much anymore, so he lit out when they got close to Independence. He often recalled her sad, blue eyes. Those same sad, distant eyes his mother often had.

It was in Independence he met J.D.

He'd earned a pallet in the tack room and meals at one of the two larger liveries in town. J.D. had shown up late one evenin', well after dark as some of the worst rain Independence had seen in months turned the roads to slop. The young man said nothin' as he took the string of mustangs the rain-soaked man led and tended their needs. Clad in buckskin under his slicker, the man never said a word as he watched the boy first feed the restless animals a half measure of grain before wipin' them down with straw. Lucas could feel his eyes though, watchin' as he his own self cared for the horse he rode in on.

"Not many can handle a wet, hungry mustang let alone a string of them. Your name boy?"

"Lucas Blake."

His eyes never faltered as he stared back at the man still sizin' him up.

"Live around here?"

"Back of the stable Sir."

"Orphaned?"

"No Sir."

"Read and write?"

"Yes Sir."

There was a satisfied grunt as the man nodded before flippin' a shinin' new nickel to him.

"Do what your doin' son. Take heed of Rose here, she do not take well to strangers."

He slapped the cream splashed red geldin' on the hip as he turned, picked up his personals and strode out of the livery.

Lucas spent the next hour dryin' what he could before settin' the man's saddle

and reins proper to dry. Just at sun-up the next mornin', the rain were replaced by a warm, southerly breeze. He corralled the mustangs before feedin' each another half measure of some fresher grain and leavin' them in a sun-soaked corral. After lurin' Rose closer with her second dried apple, he began runnin' his hands over the twitchin' horse, talkin' softly.

"Shhhhh... Easy boy... He'll be back shortly."

It was late the followin' evenin' when J.D. returned to the livery.

"There'll be a man by here tomorrow Luke. I want you to cut out the best horse of the mustangs and stable it away from the others. He'll have a receipt, signed by me. Tell Oliver that you're to take care of him."

Lucas did as told and when the dusty man arrived handin' him the receipt, Luke gently pointed out a mistake in the math on the offered paperwork. The man reluctantly agreed and ponied up the additional thirteen dollars when Lucas insisted. Two days later he was saddled on the very mustang he'd culled from the string and along with J.D., was headin' to Winding Creek.

Lucas never asked why, jist accepted J. D.s offer when it was made.

It weren't complicated. He'd keep an eye on his two daughters when they went to school and such and help the Missus when she asked. In turn, he'd 'tend the same school as his girls and if the fit were good, stay as long as he liked...

The memory fled as the three-year-old snorted and pawed the ground. Lucas rolled into a crouch just past the edge of the faded fires glow, knife cradled in his hand. Listenin' hard, he heard the final sounds of a night creature finishin' the kill of its next meal.

Inhalin' deeply, he spoke softly.

"Thank You horse."

He hadn't named the finely bred animal. He refused to call it Cotton, the name of the young gal that raised the colt since birth had given him. Truth be told, he was leanin' t'ward the almost red stallion that was also available. But Cotton, or whatever his name was going to be, stayed as close as he could to that gal the entire time he was decidin' on which gift to choose fer J.D.s youngest daughter. Luke knew the panned faced girl with near coal black eyes would fall in love with the affectionate brute. There were no doubt 'bout that. None at all.

As fer Tiffany, J.D.s oldest, he'd sent off to Germany fer a gold and ivory music box. Tiffany had acquired a fondness fer the nicer things in life, much to the chagrin of J.D. There weren't such things in Willow Creek, but Luke wanted her to have this one. Besides, she'd have to think of Luke every time she opened it; somethin' he'd found himself thinkin' more & more about as the time slipped by and thoughts of headin' home entered his mind.

Returnin' to his blanket, a bit more restless than he had been, he started to thinkin' about Miss Leslie, but soon enough Kate Taylor pushed into his mind. Dan Taylors wife, Mr. Taylors daughter-in-law and who was soon to be a mother.

"Damn."

The gelding responded with a curious grunt.

"It's okay Patch."

A reference to the mark on the horse that'd made him a geldin' Settlin' back onto his blanket, Luke thought again 'bout Kate. That gal was sure built for comfert. Her big ol' titties would rock and sway under her as Lucas gave her all he had from behind watchin' as her moon shaded ass rippled under his solid fuckin'. And when she got goin', she flowed like a trickling stream. He could still hear her moanin' and groanin' til she got all frozen in place, shakin' and tremblin' like a leaf in windstorm. She was a fine piece of ass, even better than some of the ladies at the Diamond he'd shared such pleasures with. When Dan was out of town, she'd often find the time to give him a special treat using her mouth whenever the chance offered itself. She got Lucas hooked on that particular pleasure one mornin' when she woke him up in the state room they'd once shared. That woman loved what she was doin', (not many did) and he loved when she did it.