Winding Creek Pt. 02 - Home

Rolling away and onto his back, he tried to collect his self. Linda followed. Pressing against him. Her mouth searching his own, tongue boldly exploring his mouth. Strong hands moving over his shoulders, his arms and then slipping between them. Along the buttons between their slow-moving hips, pressing against his so very hard flesh.

He wanted to let her... Did for a bit. Then covered her wandering hand with his.

"We... We best stop now Linda Jean."

"No..."

She gave it a hard squeeze.

"I want to Lucas."

He rolled her over then lifted his chest and resting on his elbows, stared down into her hooded eyes.

"I-I want this to be perfect for us Linda Jean...,"

"It is."

Time slowed for the young lovers. Searching n learning with their hands and lips. The little sounds they both made. The nervous giggle, the soft moan and the stiffening of one's body when someone touched just the right spot.

Somehow they paused with Linda sitting in his lap, facing each other; her knees straddling his hips and her round bottom resting on the top of his thighs. As she sat there, looking into his eyes, they both got very, very quiet. Luke's hands slid down her sides, over the swell of her hips and then lightly along the back of her thighs. Linda rolled her hips. bringing one knee up and then the other, her feet settling along each side of her first and only lover.

She was open. Vulnerable. The coal black, wispy hair and the many shadows hiding her damp sex from his eyes. Luke filled his hands with her bottom, easing her closer. Linda trembled as the first touch of Lukes very warm, very hard cock as it grazed the crease between the top of her thigh and then slowly explored her most intimate parts. Lukes words were low and filled with need.

"G-go ahead..."

Linda knew what was next. She had seen it a hundred times... Mating... The breeding ritual. She knew what went where, but she'd not seen it done like this... Face to face.

Wetting her lips, she once again found Lukes hard flesh and stroked it slowly before placing it to where it needed to be. Luke edged closer, the wet tip of his manhood finding the hidden opening to her body. Linda closed her eyes. Would it be like a cat, the female baying as the male drove into her body or more like the horses and cows and the deer she saw once when hunting with her father.

She eased forward and down...

Their coupling had been slow... Intense... Holding each other's eyes... Luke finally pulling her tightly against him... His warmth soothing the hurt... Wrapped in each other's arms... Not letting go... The kisses even more intimate now... Deeper... The rolling of his hips... Pleasurable. They cuddled afterwards...

And then did it again.

The slow growing glow in the east sent Linda rushing back to the house. Luke set in the open loft door watching. It wouldn't stay a secret, just between the two of them for long. Miss Debra would know with her first look at her youngest daughter. She held Linda at arm's length, looking at her and only asking with her eyes. She knew it was going to happen. Anyone with eyes could see it. The tears started as she hugged Linda tight saying it was okay. Tiffany's learning of the situation took until after the feeding of John and she saw Linda was in the kitchen, warmin' the cast iron stove. Linda in the kitchen was one thing; Linda moving about like an anxious mother hen cooking was another.

When Luke finally chose to calm the hunger gnawing at his insides, he clenched his jaw and headed to the house. The girls stopped talking when he stepped inside. Linda's chest, neck and face turned crimson. Tiffany jumped up and gave him the longest hug he'd ever had from 'er and Miss Debra... She allowed the kitchen to settle for a bit before looking at Luke over the edge of her second cup of coffee,

"Guess the courting is over young man, it's time to get you two married."

The family spent the rest of the day readyin' for the trip to town. Miss Debra fussed with the awkward, near black crepe dress she had bought for herself many years ago. It was just something women did. You never knew...

No one expected it'd be one of the girls that would be the first to wear it. Some left over material would be fashioned into a sash to wrap around the blanket John would be travelin' in.

Linda washed the once black buggy as Luke repacked the grease in each of the tall, thin spoked wheels. Reins n harness were both oiled. Luke knew without being told it had been a quite a spell since the buggy had seen the light of day. His pleasures of the night before slowly slipped away as the day lengthened and his anger grew.

"You think there will be trouble?"

Linda had every right to inquire now.

"I spoke to the Sherriff about three fingers Mike at the livery. I plan on seein' George Nelson while you women stop at the church. I'll speak to you about that when I'm sure of the particulars. I need you to stay at the church with your mother and Tiffany until you see Patch tied in front of the Sheriff's office, then enjoy yourselves at Nelson's."

She only nodded. Luke moved close and covered her hands with his.

"I know this is going to be hard Linda Jean, but I have t speak to Tiff about the Seasons."

She looked at her lover from the night before, the concern etched on her face.

"It can be any way she'd like it to be... With the family or maybe alone under the sycamore tree. Whatever suits her best."

He patted her hand and leaned in for a quick kiss. Linda slipped her hand behind his head and made the kiss count before sighing, her warm breath washing over his face.

"Mathew Billings?"

The tall man smiled into Lindas concerned dark eyes and winked. Luke knew he'd chose the right woman...

The trip to town was an odd ride. You could cut across the flats on horse back or take the longer ways about on what some called a road, but weren't much more than a well traveled path that got you to the real road that ran north to south in n outta town. Both got you to Winding Creek, but this were only one choice for the carriage or buck board.

This time of year it were warm in the early morning and plain hot in the brassy, sun-stained afternoon. The main road was bone dry n dusty n no pleasurable ride save the family was mostly together. Luke trailed the carriage, either right r left to avoid what dust he could n not kicking up any in front of the carriage. It did little good. The cloud created in the morning air hazed the carriage and his freshly polished boots. Luke scooted on past as the family turned to the small wooden church that sat up on a shaded rise. You could see most of the town from the front of the towns third oldest building.

A few hundred yards past Luke pulled up, keeping a clear eye on his women n child til he saw Reverend Stouts come around the fading white building n opening his arms in greetin'. Luke hisself would have to save the religion til the wedding n hopefully not much longer after that.

There were two men standing outside the Barber Shop & Bath, the first business as you entered Winding Creek from the south. Mr. Stevens, it's proprietor and Jim Crawford, the areas second best carpenter looked at Luke n smiled, neither sure on how to approach the returning young man n m'ybe now, a gunman.

Luke touched the edge of his flat brimmed hat and slowly passed with Patch shaking his mane n giving a light snort to his riders' twitch of the reins. Nelsons Mercantile was just two steps down and twenty feet past the two men. Edith Nelson looked up from sweeping the wooden sidewalk and hurried inside the only glass door in the entire town when she recognized Lucas. Luke watched her calling to her husband over the long counter once inside through one of the two brightly painted window frames.

Luke stepped down from the saddle n wrapped Patch's reins loosely around the hitch rail. Two strides n he were checking his hat in the glass doors refection before brushing back the broad cloth coats right side to fully expose the Walker-Colt. The familiar bell rang when he opened the door and stepped inside.

Inside the store were smaller than Luke remembered. He admired how everything was in pretty much the same place as it always were. He gave pause until Bill Nelson, a heavy man who always wore a vest to poorly hide his growin' girth 'ppeared behind counter.

"Lucas Blake... As I live n breathe."

Luke stepped twixt the several shelves holding the sweating man's wares, stopping to look at a sky-blue shirt.

"Bill... Why so surprised? J.D. said you were one he told I was off to school. He figur'd your wife would make sure the town knew."

The man looked down at his hands and flint lock pistol under the countertop beneath them.

"H-hows J.D.?"

Luke stopped n lifted his eyes to look at the round-faced man.

"I figured you'd know, being one of his better friends n all."

William Nelson dropped his own eyes, his thin salt n pepper hair shiney from the oily hair tonic.

"I... Errr."

"I remember when I first got to Winding Creek... You were a thinner man then. Beholdin' to J.D. n how you treated him n his... N how you looked at me."

"Them were hard times Lucas..."

Luke held up his hand, silencing the now trembling man.

"I know... But I can't help but wonder why J.D. had your written agreement from all those years ago in front of his black ledger book. You remember that agreement Mr. Nelson?"

Trying to collect himself, to control his growing fear, the words just would not come to the shop owner's lips.

"Miss Debra n the rest of my family will be in here shortly..."

Luke lifted n then smoothed the black broad cloth back over the Walker Colt.

"...I have some business with Sherriff Rivers. When I come back, I better see nothin' but smiles n happiness from my intended and her mother n sister. If I ever hear a cross word... Ever hear you have disrespected me n mine in any way a'gin... I'll come lookin' to settle the terms of that agreement."

Then lookin' at the cracked door leading to the storage room,

"That includes your wife Bill. She best learn to speak only pleasantries about me n mine or you'll not enjoy the grandchildren of the only daughter that still stays n touch with you."

Luke turned, offering the furious man his back, yet keeping a sharp eye on Bill Nelson's reflection in the window. There weren't a sound made save for the bell announcing Lukes departure.

Loosening Patch's reins, Luke walked the distance between the Mercantile and Bert Rivers small jail. Word traveled fast that he were in town, many of the town's folk now scattered in small knots along the way. Luke spoke to those he knew n tipped his hat to the few he didn't. Once again twisting the oiled leather at the end of the rail in front of the jail, he moved inside the unpainted building and stopped cold. Tom Trombley n who Luke knew must be Mathew Billings, rose from their chairs...