Winding Creek Pt. 03 - Marriage

His thumb joined his finger and began tugging at the hardened bud. She gasped when he returned to lightly stroking.

"Like that don't you Tiff?"

He sucked at the hollow of her neck. His fingers gently pinched, teased n tightened, sending lighting crackling through her body before he again slowly slid them up and down. The new bride gasped out loud as he traced the edge of her ear with the tip of his tongue, the now dampened skin adding a thrilling chill to her sinful, rising want. His warm breath kept on.

"Never figured you fer a whore Tiff. Born to it I suspect..."

His teeth tugged at the lobe of her ear.

"...Always prim n proper; That pretty little nose up even higher in the air when you was with J.D. or your Mama."

Tiffany's mind was all jumbled n confused. A searching finger slipped lower, curling over and then just inside.

"Mmmuumpphhh..."

He kissed her lips again, the rough tip of his finger keeping busy, pressing inside, collecting moisture then slipping it's way higher. Circling. Tapping. Stroking. Her pale satin thighs quivered. He slowly opened the swelling, moistened crease. She whimpered, giving even more voice to the strange, pleasurable feelings racing through her body n making her nipples harder than ever before. He began kissing the tips of her tingling breasts, drawing the pink skin between his lips; lashing at them with his warm, wet tongue. Tiffany felt the growing heat deep between her thighs as he again eased his finger inside. She rose up on her toes as the delicate skin inside parted and the invasion deepened.

"Ooohhh myyy... You sure feel-good... Gettin' all wet n slippery... I can smell Ur need girl. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were one of those two-dollar whores with a medicine show travlein' thru town."

She shuddered at hearing his cruel words. The feelin's rushing through her body were different than anything she had ever felt. This must be the evil they spoke of on Sunday's. She tried to steel herself from those feelings. Then his finger, wet with her own scent pressed against her trembling, self-bitten lips.

"Use y'ur tongue Tiff... N then suck on it a bit."

She knew the sticky wetness on his finger. In the barn. When she was all alone; exploring the tingles that often filled her after a good morning ride. How she stopped when the sinful feelings turned to pleasures n became too much... making her breath quicken n body shake. But this was her husband a doing it now, causin' her to feel like she was. She was rightfully his now.

Bible said it... how the wife was subject to her husband; Same as he was to the Lord. The preacher reminded them of that fact... N more than once as he lectured the couple before they spoke the sacred vows. Jack had made it even simpler: he owned her lock, stock n barrel. Even her mother had asked if she really wanted to someday belong to this man when she tried reasoning with her under the wide, green sycamore.

So now, she simply surrendered.

First to her new husband and then to the needful sensations as they ran everywhere through her. The terrible words of her husband told her she was no longer the princess her father n mother had raised. She was his now; forced to feel this raging heat and excitement in her chest n stomach n legs. The needs grew as their mingled scent filled the room. His hands and fingers kept searching her most private area.

At some point his slow exploration, like her breathing, quickened. One finger became two as he pressed even deeper inside. There was some hurt, eased by the wet warmth that whet the invading digits.

He stepped back, fumbling with the hook and eyes on his wool pants. Through slitted eyes she watched him force them off his hips before pullin' at his boots n then strippin' off his britches. His very hard cock rose, pointing straight at her. Almost like his fingers, it was short n thick; not long n glistening like a dog or bulls after their pointed ends and length slipped out of their protective sheath. His end was blunt n round, with only the very tip wet n shiny. He moved to her, quickly turning her around and bending her over the twinkling brass. His warm hands considered her bottom, exploring her milky skin, testing the firm flesh. She stiffened when they opened her wider to investigate under the tangled hair hidin' the very wet n glistening entrance to her body. He tugged at the protective curls.

"You'll need to take scissors to this Tiff."

Then his thumbs exposed her even more, his hot breath and the heavy air washing over her open, weeping slit. She cried out at the sinful n degrading touch of his tongue slithering up n through before pushing deep inside.

"A-ah - ohhhh."

His fingers tightened at the top of her bottom, willing her to lay forward. His tongue glided up n then down. Tiffany twisted her hips. He slapped at her bottom. She froze. He began again, lapping at the bundle of lighting thunderin' through her body. The new bride cried out...

Smokes gravelly voice cut into her memory of the past from the here n now.

"Family's cummin'..."

Tiffany Seasons opened her eyes, looking up to see the powerfully built man's thick arm pointing towards her slow arriving family. There was a small dust up behind the leather strap through brace carriage her mother drove. Luke was cradled in Linda arms, the white bandages wrapped tightly around his waist n chest now lightly covered in the long, swaying rides dust. Luis Tee was settin' his massive steel grey gelding n rode to the right, his Hawkens rife held steady in his left hand. As the entire family came together again, the slow arriving carriage woke John. As he started to fuss, Lukes calling to him settled the child.

"Hello Choo-Choo. How's my boy?"

There was little talk after the greetings, all of them waiting for Miss Debra to take charge. After swinging his leg over his saddle n off the steel grey, Luis Tee tethered the carriage before offerin' his hand to Debra Ann. She let him help her step out n then down. Her eyes were dark rimmed, and her face looked worn.

"Tiffany, fetch a feather pillow from J.D.s bed. We'll be putting Luke here on the porch til we finish setting him a place inside. Luis, you and Smoke..."

She waved with a half-pointed hand to the chair that Tiff had left, inhaled deeply n then sighed before looking back at the two men.

"...Thank you. To both of you fine gentleman..."

Luis Tee had a flicker of a smile as the two men formed a cradle between them as Linda gently helped Lucas into their outstretched arms n locked hands. Lukes eyes were cloudy n his body a little slack, something Tiffany was well aware of: Laudanum. The thin liquid in the dark brown bottles... Mathew Billings... Gretchen... Tom. Luke's voice chased those memories away.

"I kin walk Darlin."

Miss Debra's voice cut sharp through the rapidly heating air.

"And risk all my doctoring! No sir... You'll do as your told Lucas Blake. I've worked to hard so I can see my youngest daughter married before your shenanigans make her a widow even before she's a wife."

A low chorus of chuckles eased the tensions n fears. Luke was home...

Again.

With all the shared news, Tiffany was surprised to hear that there would be no trial for near murdering Luke. Seemed that Mr. Billings met his maker lying in the jail cell where he was being cared for. Most thought it odd that his wife or no other member from the Season's family traveled to town to help with Billings. She knew now why her mother had chased off the town doctor that horrible night. Tiffany smiled... N maybe why she wore her hat.

Things moved quick after Luke's arrival home. Jim Crawford started a bedroom for the newlyweds. A new hand was hired from Luis Tee's spread n hard at work. He said he had a 'good, strong' brother on his way. At least one hand from the Seasons Ranch inquired about openings: He was quickly run off the property by Smoke when 'e saw the angst in Miss Tiffany's eyes upon his arrival.

Linda constantly fussed over Luke as he grumbled 'bout staying still like she and her mother had asked. When Luke became more determined with his arguments n such, Luis Tee stepped in.

"You got three top men here n 'nother on the way Lucas... Me included. Ain't nobody goin' nowhere til ur weddin' to Linda n things r put right. You know me son... Now please, do as the ladies askt."

Lucas knew the man; or thought he did. There were still questions to be askt n answered when things settled a bit more...

Sheriff Rivers came by to see Luke n check on the what evers. After speakin' with Luke, Miss Debra had quietly walked him to his horse as she thanked him for comin'. Luis Tee settled mostly on the porch or near the corrals edge closest to the house. He'd checked on the fast-arrivin' stock n often gived tasks to the men as they delivered them. Smoke Garcia spelled him at night on the porch whenever Luis chose to sleep.

By the day of the wedding, things were as close to normal as Miss Debra n Luis Tee could make 'em. The sound of horse n mule drifted through the air ag'in. Corrals n barn had been mended n waited for the paint that Bill Nelson had promised when he personally, delivered the supplies that had been ordered.

The wedding had been simple, though you'd never know it with Linda dressed in fine white silk and handmade lace. She'd kissed Luis Tee on the cheek as he gave her away to Luke under the Sycamore tree.

Most everyone was surprised when Sheriff Rivers had arrived, even before the Reverend Stouts. More surprisin' was the fact he had Judge Pickett with 'im. Miss Debra fussed all mornin' with this n that 'tween the occasional tear that stained her cheek. J.D. set quietly on the porch with a quilt over his legs.

It was all quite beautiful n peaceful.

Afterwards, a fine lunch of fresh roasted venison n vegetables were served; (thanks to Smoke being able to leave the ranch for a bit). Miss Debra's cake was near perfect with pink-tinted roses n fancy white edgin'.

Luis Tee had 'acquired' some fine liquor from somewhere; no one thought to ask where. Jim Crawford and his were there. The middle-aged man, father of five n countin', had made a large cradle with hand carved ends in the polished wood as a wedding gift. He knew he were one of the very few that had been invited n took that invite from the Blakes deeply personal.

After lunch, the small gatherin' of celebration dwindled a bit. The Reverend left shortly after his third helpin' of cake. Sheriff Rivers n Jim were asked to join Luis n Smoke to enjoy libations behind the house. It weren't long before the sounds of a horseshoe game beginnin' rattled the air. Miss Debra n Tiffany n Linda shared married secrets. Jim's wife mothered their youngest children n Choo-Choo in the cut grass while the two oldest boys sat rail and talked horses. The other hands were invited to finish the food and cake that were offered after the invited guests.

Lucas, dressed in a fine broadcloth coat n fresh made linen shirt, sat under the old sycamore with Judge Pickett. Both the well-dressed men cut a fine sight; drinks in hand, shaded in the late afternoon sun as Luke rested n they talked in their high back chairs.

"I can not believe that you apprenticed with Taylor & Sons. Charles Taylor has been an acquaintance, and I'd like to think friend, from say... Hmmm... Twenty years ago?"

Lucas listened hard n with a warm smile, studied the man. He'd only seen Judge Horace Pickett a handful of times, mostly as an observer in the saloon n hotel when it were closed for court. He'd only spoken once to Lucas when J.D. introduced them at a church social. The slow healin' man wondered why there hadn't been a flicker of knowin' the Judge when Charles Taylor n he'd talked about Winding Creek.

Not once.

He looked to be 'bout the same age as J.D. n Charles. He dressed like the world figured a judge should. Long black coat n black wool pants with their suspenders always hidden under a fancy vest that changed color dependin' on the occasion. Today it was a sparklin' silver over a pale blue shirt. His expensive boots shined like a damp summers night. He wore a flat brimmed hat when he traveled and the traditional style robe when matters of importance were presented in front of 'im. His face showed years of wisdom n his eyes never left yours when he spoke to ya. The quick smile on his clean-shaven face n a firm hand shake that Lucas somehow felt familiar with, made Luke want to trust him.

"Hired on as a junior accountant, then worked with Mr. Taylor's sons n shortly after that, Mr. Taylor himself."

The Judge nodded his head, eyes never waverin'. He too was listening hard to the young man with combed back hair that stayed back, just because it were where Luke wanted it to. Wide in the shoulders, the long black broad cloth coat made him look even leaner as it hung over his open white linen shirt and still tightly wrapped chest n waist. As Luke added to their glasses with the surprise from Luis Tee, the judge wanted to learn as much as he could. He'd known J.D.. Made it a point to. Now, he'd made that same to point to learn about Lucas Blake after reading what the sheriff handed him in the brown, leather tied pouch. He knew the pouch, but feigned surprise as he accepted it and asked where Bert had gotten it.

"Miss Debra Judge. She askt that I git it to you n to keep it quiet n all."

The Judge simply looked the pouch over and shrugged before slipping it inside of his coat. He'd made note of the knot. It didn't seem to have been tampered with. When alone in his room at the small hotel, he filled a glass with his favored traveling whiskey n slowly undid the complicated knot. The long, thin, cherry wood box in the pouch had an envelope inside with his name written in cursive. The flap closing the envelope was sealed with a spot of red wax. He knew the familiar image pressed into the wax. The document inside was done in calligraphy.

To Whoever It May Concern,

This document is to affirm that Lucas Blake has successfully completed

every class, assignment and task during his apprenticeship with our firm.

It is our pleasure to recommend him as solicitor, prosecutor or other legal

practitioner.

Let it also be known that Lucas Blake has our full faith and confidence.

Respectfully,

Charles M. Taylor.

It was written on Taylors & Sons finest stationary, heavy n thick. The last line sat hard with Judge Pickett. After reading and then reading the document several times and after having another drink; he made the decision. Any and all other plans that had been made, or were to have been made, stopped immediately. Something much bigger then the town or any man around it had made it presence known.

So the Judge attended the small 'invitation only' wedding. He'd smiled and listened to every person who took the time to speak to him, includin' the ranch hands. Now, as he shared another drink with this young man, they spoke of the changes in the law and the changes that were to come as well as the sometime soon comin' of statehood. He quickly understood why Luke was the heir apparent; And it would be him who would ultimately decide the future...

"Linda Jean Blake... Mrs. Blake... Mrs. Linda Jean Blake."

The new bride's words were soft as she ran her fingers over Luke's chest n admirin' the gold band adorning her left hand. Pausing, she tugged at the small field of hair peeking out from under Lukes fresh changed bandages. Luke looked at her and smiled. She kissed his collar bone n the soft place near his shoulder 'fore settling her cheek against the exposed, uninjured part of his chest. Her fingers still explored; lazy and slow. She was happy n thought wistfully about Tiffany n the look she was given when she shared how wonderful the first time had been with Luke.

Linda Jean shuddered.

That was then and this was now.

She had decided to take to the loft, same as Luke, after their marriage vows until their room was built. It would be quieter n a better place to share their love. It smelt of hay n horses n were a place she'd always felt secure in.

Now with Luke injured, the sleeping arraignments had changed. Luke had been given their parents room, including the walnut four posted bed and feather filled mattress. J.D. was moved to Lukes tiny old room and Miss Debra, Tiffany and John settled in in what had been the girls room.

"So, how you feelin' this evenin' Mrs. Blake?"

"Mmmmm... Better than good Mr. Blake."

"I like it when you touch me like this Linda Jean."

She knew that tone n felt the warmth rise in her cheeks.

"N the way you looked at me when we made love before all this happened."

She felt his fingers trailing along her spine n circling the right side of her bottom. His warm breath caressed her ear.

"Think I found 'nother one of those spots Darlin."

His hand guided her thighs apart. She sighed.

Those long fingers slowly parted her most intimate area, lightly stroking her rapidly moistening sex. Linda twitched and then slowly lifted her hips in response before suddenly dropping them, taking Luke's enjoyment with them.

"No Lucas. We can't."

"Don't seem fair is all, us just bein' married n such."

"Mama said you still need time to heal proper."

"I'm healed."

A light touch to the long running slice across his chest yielded nothing. That same touch to the much wider, cauterized wound just below his ribs, drew a wince after she pressed just a bit.

"We'll wait a bit Mister Blake."

"Huummmppfff."

The new bride smiled lookin' at the man she just married several hours ago.

"If you can stay still, and I mean really still..."

she purred as her fingers walked lightly over the white cloth bandages again toward the top of his cutoff long johns.

"...maybe a little something that Mama shared, and my naughty sister added to when we were alone, might help."

Her fingers opened the light woven flannel, ran through the mass of otter colored hair above his manhood and slowly wrapped themselves around the fast-thickening flesh. Lukes low groan filled with need made it more of a pleasure then a duty for the newly married wife.

"Mama said I should hold it like this."

She giggled n squeezed lightly before moving her hand tenderly up n down. She let her breath slip slowly between her lips as Lucas drew his in sharply.

"Mmmm...."

"Like that do ya husband?"

He did.

She let her hand squeeze lightly, just under the flared, slow leakin' tip. She watched it pulse, his warmth growin' under her fingers. She gently took her thumb and circled the end of it with the sticky film under the pad of her thumb makin' him twitch.

"L-Linda Jean."

"Hush."

Lucas bit his lower lip, watching as his now wife tightened her hand 'fore slowly movin' it up n down. Afte a bit, she started exploring his manhood with the just the tips of her fingers. Tracing the bluish veins, her touch was teasingly light on the tightened, very warm skin. They lingered near the now free flowing tip as she delicately spread the quick cooling warmth over it. Their room was so quiet you could hear the night breeze as it gently wandered through.

She looked at Lucas, leaned up n kissed him gentle. Trying to be careful, Linda eased back. They just held each other's eyes with her hand n fingers gripping his now solid erection; still moving slowly, then pausing near his throbbing base.

"I love you Mr. Blake."

With out another word, she lowered her face. Lucas watched as the woman he just married flicked the pink tip of her tongue along the edge of his throbbing cock's crown. He tried not to move, his hands tightening on the bed coverings. The tongue appeared again, circling for a brief moment before slipping back inside her mouth under quizzical eyes.

"Y-you taste like day old chicory coffee n salt Lucas Blake."

Luke groaned in response, afraid of spoiling the moment. Her breath bathed the throbbing end, her tongue flashed again.