Jacob Stone - After the War

( This tale is a bit darker than most of my others. It's post-Civil War and my thoughts on what occurs after such events to those folks that lived through it. Thanks again for Your comments and votes, I'll need them for this one. )

The hard shining sun made the skies pale some from the rich glowing blues Jacob had woken to. It was that time in spring that the blue birds boldly cried out their location as they moved from oak to evergreen in search of a mate while butterflies danced together above the new opening flowers. The white birch trees were slowly filling their branches with light green buds and the cardinals were making their presence known for the same reasons.

Three days in the saddle, just a week after his last battle in the hated war that'd cost him old friends n new; he was now headin' in the general direction of home. More then three n half years, sharing boiled whatever they could find to eat: salt pork, hard tack and some occasional canned food...

For what?

Lee had gived up near a week before Jules died. Word hadn't got to 'em yet. Ambushed, Jules fell first, the twice wounded man they all called 'Lucky'. Taking the first volley, he never knew what hit 'em. He was jawing away with Jacob about what his would be doing in the spring when the side of his head exploded in the roar of rifle fire.

"Maggie would be stepping on dropped seed after the plowing. Gawd, I miss her crooked smi...".

That was the last words he ever spoke. For the next ten minutes that seemed like hours bullets flew, and half of the remainin' men were killed or wounded. The smell of death shared with the cries of the sufferin' filled the black and blue smoke-stained air. Jacob near died trying to fetch their shared personals sack from around Jules's waist before he struggled to find cover.

He helped bury his friend n others early the next morning, then looked to his sergeant and just nodded his good-bye. Early afternoon two days later day he was startin' to be shed of it: the war, his remaining 'brothers in arms' and soon, the worn n patched grey uniform. The ringin' in his ears were near gone, leavin' mostly images n sounds of to many battles when he tried to sleep. Killing now came easy to Jacob Stone. Made no difference who or what, just they were the enemy; a threat to him or his.

A grateful farmer would welcome him into his home after Jacob killed three blue bellies and chased off one more with the last of his ball, powder n ammunition. He happened on a younger gal crying and her brother huddled tight together as he walked along the wagon rutted road leading through the rolling hills.

The near teen, tears running down her cheeks, had broke from their hiding place to throw her arms around the grey wearin' solider.

"T-they killed our father when he tried to stop 'em...".

The rest of her words mostly drifted into the coming evenin' as Jacob eased the sobbin' girl back into her brother's arms. The boy pulled her in tight and pointed. When Jacob neared the plowed n seeded fields in front of the small cabin, he let the open-faced barn shield him from the two soldiers drinkin' and eatin' whatever they'd found amongst the belongings they'd scattered in front.

Close enough he couldn't miss, he took a sergeant's life slammin' his thick body against the front of the small cabin while the other searched for the man behind the black smoke drifting slow up. Jacob moved quick behind the barn to a settin' buckboard before emptying both his pistols as he stepped out from its opposite end into the lookin' man and one of the two others that were fast leaving the open doored cabin. One more fell clutchin' at his belly as the remainin' one lit out pullin' up his britches before quick mountin' his horse to scurry off. The war weary veteran, lookin' at the emptied weapons in his hands and then to the darkening skies above him:

"When is enough, enough."

Steady movin' forward, Jacob took a ground laying pistol and ended the life of the gut shot moaning man before stepping into the looted cabin. A woman, trying to save what modesty was left to her, was tugging at her shredded dress as she tried tending to her husband bound tight to the center support post inside their usually spotless home. He weren't dead but the look in his eyes would be a long time in fading away.

The tear-streaked face woman only glanced at the grey wearing uniform as he stepped behind the post to cut the rope binding her husband's hands. The badly beaten man fell forward into his babbling wife's arms. Jacob took note of her red marked exposed breast and bruised thigh before taking his leave.

"I'll go fetch the children."

*

After telling the brother n sister to stay in the barn, Jacob stripped the dead men of what he might need: weapons, ammunition, paper money n gold and loaded them into the buck board. Abby McDaid had found a worn yellow dress to cover her used n damaged body, her ripe curves still easily seen. Her husband, the left side of his face badly broken n bruised, was still struggling with reality as the two men went to dispose of the three dead rapists.

On their return in the quiet darkness, Jacob was offered a bed in the resettled cabin. He declined, preferring the barn. There was no need of him in their home now. Well before sun-up, the battered grey uniform was left behind, replaced by wool pants and an ill-fitting plaid shirt. Jacob took possession of the Union horses and rode on, leaving the whatever's behind for the grieving family. They'd be able to sell most of it since Kentucky had gone to the Union after the last election. He also gifted them his Fayetteville rifle and one of his Navy Colts, preferrin' the Henry's and Army Colts the dead blue bellies had. That and the got ammunition made him a very well-armed man.

As the sun slowly rose behind him tinting the black velvet sky, he headed to some place called Granville, Ohio; a hundred miles south southwest of Cleveland in Licking County. It were the place Jules Lamond lived in. Jacob once again wondered how in the hell Jules ended up in the Confederate Army. It was a question asked by a few but never answered. Jacob had never asked, never cared for that matter until now. They'd all wondered at one time or another why in the Sam hell any of them ended up where they were at any particular time...

-0-

The new 'Boss of the Plains' Stetson made Jacob stand out a bit on the ferry ride across the Ohio River. The dark grey beaver fur Stetson said pretty much the same as the other store-bought clothes he now wore. A somewhat successful young man returning from the war n heading home. The shining more brown then black gelding with his coal black mane n tail traveling with him was restless. The barge like ferry bobbed a bit as it was slow pulled across the turning waters of late spring. Jacob kept 'im close, holdin' his bridle and stroking the beautiful animal. He talked soft as they looked at each other. It was the first ferry ride for 'Hopeful' and only being together a bit more then a week, the spooked horse made short work of the dried apple n carrots Jacob had got special.

Jacob walked Hopeful for near a quarter mile in and through town so he could settle before steppin' into the fresh oiled saddle. The horse and rider were pleased when the small town thinned, and the road narrowed a bit. Ohio hadn't seen the worst of the war, but the worn faces and weariness in the searchin' eyes of the occasional knots of travelin' men reminded Jacob of how lucky he were at that particular point in time.

The beautiful gelding made travelin' quicker, switching between a canter, trot n walk. They'd spent more then one night in some livery along the way, Jacob often mucking out the stalls to save a dollar here or there. Though he had plenty from sellin' the extra weapons n horses, rememberin' times he didn't made him keep a close eye on his poke.

If the night were clear and circumstance allowed, they'd settle under a maple or oak tree. Jacob always used a dandy brush; curry comb and hoof pick when they settled before hobbling Hope for the night.

The road they now traveled was mostly easy and the late spring weather warm. Water were plentiful, Jacob takin' the opportunity for a bath in a quick runnin' stream when circumstance allowed it. A nickel steak and grain n beans kept 'em both satisfied. It was late mornin' of the fourth day after their ferry ride they rode into Granville.

It weren't much different then the last towns they'd rode through. A quick stop at the Barber shop for a cut n shave led Jacob east near two miles before he saw the Lamond farm. Peeling white paint and a blue door on the clapboard house said this had been home for Jules Lamond. Jacob stepped down and led Hopeful up between two fresh plowed n planted fields.

"Hello in the house."

Jacob waited a respectful twenty-five feet away from the scuffed blue door. After a few minutes, he called out again.

"Mrs. Lamond!"

"What business do you have with my sister?"

Jacob turned slow, the hard tone in the voice makin' him wish one of the packed away Colts were restin' on his hip. The young man he was lookin' at held a pitchfork across his chest and wore sweat-stained long johns with patched blue denim over 'em.

"I have news about Jules."

The young man, not more then seventeen, brown eyes narrowed a bit.

"How do you know Jules."

"I been ridin' with him the last few years."

Satisfied, the man child called out.

"Maggie!"

The blue door opened a touch.

"Man here says he knows Jules."

The door slow opened wider. A slender woman in a high collared light blue dress stepped out. Jacob took note of her sand-colored hair knotted and hanging over the front of her left shoulder. Liftin' her face a bit; her big brown eyes looked like a doe's searchin' the air for scent.

"How's that?"

"I've been ridin' with Jules the last three n half years Mrs. Lamond."

Jacob knew the clouded look that slipped over her face. He'd seen it a hundred times when someone knew but were afraid to ask.

"C-can I offer you some coffee Mr...."

"Stone Ma'am... Jacob Stone. Some coffee would be welcomed. There a place I can get Hopeful here some water."

She waved with her cotton sleeve covered arm

"Pumps in back of the house Mind he don't get into my garden."

"Yes Ma'am... N thank you."

She turned her attention to the young man.

"Mathew..."

Jacob led the chestnut to the back. Jules had said there were no family about, settin' his mind to wondering about the young man's claim to be a brother. Seeing the red pump with a wood bucket hung on its spout, he loop tied Hopes reins, filled the bucket and set it close to his horse.

"You mind your manners now boy."

He was loosenin' the cinch strap when the back door opened.

"This way when you're ready Mr. Stone... I'll be setting the coffee."

Then the door soft closed.

Her face had changed some. Stern; waitin' for the bad comin' news. Jacob gathered his saddle bags, took off his hat and lightly tapped on the back door.

"It's open Mr. Stone.'"

Jacob settled at the end of the cracked, red checkered oil cloth that covered the table.

"Sugar."

"No Ma'am."

The quiet seemed longer then it were as Maggie set his coffee before choosing to settle across from him.

"When did it happen."

"Three weeks ago. We were ambushed in east Tennesse."

Her doe eyes narrowed some.

"A-ambushed. Wars been over almost a month."

"Yes Ma'am."

Her wide-open asking brown eyes met his.

"I've got no good answer Ma'am."

Jacob reached for his saddle bags and fumbled with the two small buckles.

"I met Jules at Antietam Creek, near Sharpsburg. We didn't do well there. As we regrouped, Jules shared his canteen with me. Mine slowed a bullet before grazing the outside of my thigh. We were never to far apart after that."

"T-three weeks?"

Jacob slid her husband's hard worn wallet across the table, his wedding ring on top of it.

"Made no sense to me either other then maybe they didn't know that Lee had surrendered."

She picked up the ring, rolling it in her fingers.

"I left your picture with him."

He thought how the picture didn't do her justice. Her doe-colored eyes n high cheek bones made her look near elegant. Her hair had a slight curl in it's length and

light blue dress she wore did little to the hide the treasures gentle moving under it.

Margret Mary Lamond looked at the man sitting across the small kitchen table from her. Dark hair, his handsome face worn by the war; clean shaven and a new haircut, (she knew the scent from the Dave's Barber shop.) his piercing more grey than blue eyes held hers.

"Eastern Tennesse."

"Yes Ma'am."

"And you traveled all the way here."

Jacob Stone gentle nodded.

"I gave Jules my word, same as he did me; If anything happened to one of us, the other would let their family know."

Maggie went to the small wood burning stove to get the coffee pot. Jules had been long dead in her mind. With her back still turned she asked.

"W-what did Jules say about me... Us."

For the first time that morning, Jacob soft smiled.

"He said you were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. How lucky he was to have you."

Maggie closed her eyes, her jaw tightening.

"A-and."

Jacob Stone lowered his voice.

"Sometimes when a long day ended... When maybe we had the chance in a cool evening, he'd tell us how he fell in love with you the first time he saw you. How you run him off in the beginning... Always a lady of course. Then stories how he chased you some and about that summer night at the church social when you finally said yes to his second proposal."

Her cheeks were tear stained now as she returned to fill this strangers cup.

"J-Jules sure could tell a tale."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Please call me Margret, Mr. Stone."

He held out his cup.

"Only if you'll call me Jacob."

Her eyes slow met his and a sense of coming wonderment filled her that this man would travel all this way to return her husband's wedding ring and old wallet...

"Jacob, may I ask when the last time was you had a home cooked meal."

"You can ask Margret; That and anything else you might want to know..."

She liked his soft smile.

"... My best guess would be September 1861."

Jacob thought he heard the smallest of chuckles.

"I don't have much you understand, but I'll do the best I can."

"Nothing would please me more."

He thought he saw a bit of color tint her cheeks.

"Why don't you put your horse in the shed. It's where Jules stabled his. Mind now it isn't much, but it's the best I can offer."

Jacob Stone quick rose from the table.

"Hopeful will be pleased to just have a roof over his head Margret."

She waved off his soft words.

"There's soap on the windowsill nearest the pump if you'd like. I'll start that dinner for you."

Jacob slow rolled his hat in his hands.

"I was kinda hoping I'd have the pleasure of sharing it with you."...

*

Margret Mary peeked out at the not to tall, solid built man as he led his horse to the long-neglected shed before hurrying to her room. Checking her face in the small mirror above the ceramic wash bowl n pitcher, she wiped away the remains of her tears. If only things had been as her long ago vagrant husband had said they were.

She fussed with her hair a bit and pinched her cheeks to bring out some color before returning to the kitchen to start Jacob Stones dinner. She soft smiled. Their dinner...

*

Stone finished currying Hopeful after setting saddle, bridle and such where it was once meant to be.

"Strong woman Hope. Right pretty too."

The chestnut snorted. Jacob Stone chuckled.

"Not sure yet. She just learnt her man wasn't comin' back."

He light slapped Hope on his hip.

"Gonna wash up now horse."...

*

Dinner was simple, but one of the best he ever had. Mostly home canned vegetables and damn little else. Margret Mary had a way of making it taste special. Served on old china, the two just meeting folks were soon talking easy through dinner and half a second cup of coffee. Jacob stated to feel a bit guilty as the conversation slowed.

"I'm sorry Margret. I just told you that Jules has passed and we're talkin' about...

Well..."

He held her invitin' deep brown eyes.

"... Damn near everythin' else."

Margret Lamond reached across the table and covered his thick-fingered hand with hers.

"I've been alone a very long time Jacob. I miss talking with a man that knows more than one or two things and not much else. You've shared good memories, been places I'll never see and seem to have a good understanding of the world around you."

She quickly pulled her hand off his and looked away.

"I-I'm sorry for being so forward."

He soft sighed.

"You've been nothin' but the perfect Lady listenin' to a man maybe even more lonely than you."

She deeply enjoyed the way this man was looking at her n his soft way of speaking.

"I'll set a place for you in storeroom. Hopeful isn't the only one that should have a roof over his head tonight."

Jacob hard bit his tongue, his mind rushing to places it should not be going.

"I got my bedroll out in the..."

"You'll need that to soften the floor. I'll get a fresh sheet and clean blanket."

She rose to gather the things she spoke of. Jacob stood with her.

"Are you sure Margret."

She looked over her shoulder as she moved away.

"Have I given you reason to think I don't know my own mind, Mr. Stone."

It wasn't two minutes before Jacob light tapped on the back door. Margret was pouring them both a drink as she invited him back in.

"To your left and straight ahead."

She made sure hers were half of his, then took a wee nip to make sure it was less.

When Jacob sat again, he took note the collar of her dress was opened.

"Enjoy your drink... Or are you going to question my judgement again."

They both smiled.

Jacob was on his third when she was on her second, a bit fuller this time.

"Jacob, I'll need some hard truth now. We've talked the country, memories, some about me n Jules and the times you two shared. I want to know about you. You got any place to go back to?"

Jacob deep sighed.

"I had a gal back home. I was seventeen n she were fifteen. Parents said we'd have to wait till she turned sixteen to marry. I went off to do what I thought I had to do. Year n a half or so later I met up with Enoch Sounds, a boy we both went to school with. He told me she'd married Deke Blinkens."

The somber man finished his drink.

"My older brother will inherit the farm. Times are hard along the border states, some worse in the south. I'm just twenty-one. I've shaken Death's hand and come out better than most. It's time for me to make my own life. I see no good reason to go back now."

She looked down to concentrate on the refilling of his glass, picking her words careful.

"You could spend a little time here. Tend to some of the things that's been waiting on Jules..."

She looked up to peer at him across the table.

"... Things have changed for me too Jacob. I'd like a man like you to help me reason things through."

Frayed curtains near hid the dark outside, the coal oil lamp was low and cast the two in a soft yellow glow. They'd shared some of the nightmares Jacob lived through; a few he still had when he finally fell asleep. She shared how Jules had enlisted twice in the Union Army for their sign-up bonus's and then took money to be a substitute for another man. She'd not seen much of that before he run off again to join the Confederacy. Bounty hunters had been by once looking for him... And how things might not have been as good as Jules had told him.

Jacob reached over to touch the hand of the damp eyed woman across from him.

"What's done is done Margret."

She loved his eyes.

"Maybe it's time for bed."

The not to much older woman agreed with the nod of her head and a gentle smile...

*

Morning light woke the twenty-five-year-old now widow with its bright hello to the world. She curled up her body away from it. She was still thinking on the how to do what next.

No one else was going to show up like Jules did, promising to rescue her like nine years ago: though it didn't turn out the way he swore to her mother it would before stealing her away. As she'd learned over the years, most of what men promised were just words. Pretty words and promised dreams and then the cold truth when they finished taking what they wanted until it came time for them to leave.

She no longer had family. The town folk looked down their noses at her. Neighbors always said how sad it was such a young woman had come to have her life. She was now having to depend on the kindness of others.

The banker Simon Ketz showed up every other Tuesday to collect payment on the farm she mostly didn't have. Ezekeil Adams had first his oldest and then his second son plow, plant and then harvest her fields. His asking's: Half her crop. True, it wasn't his idea for her to teach both boys the ways of a man in the bedroom during the time they worked on the small farm. It was sinful pleasure she enjoyed, having them do the many other things on her farm she didn't favor.

Besides, it was easy.

She needn't even touch them much their first months working there. An offered ladle of water, a soft smile, brushing away a little something from their shoulder, As time passed, she let them see and touch a little more, letting their calloused hands sometimes graze hers, maybe an open button here or there. She made little secret of her weekly baths on Friday night, catching both at one time or another hiding close to the house to peek. She loved the power she held over the two and the wicked thoughts that slid through her mind. The first time she eventually touched their straining, steel hard man parts, they'd spit their hot, pearly cream over her hand or straight out in front of them...

Simon Ketz was another matter. At first it was just touching some, then wanting to see her undress and then... Well, it just went from bad to worse.

Mr. Sweet at the Mercantile was the kindest. She didn't know his first name. Most didn't. He was a heavy man with a fat pecker that never asked more then she use her mouth. She liked Mr. Sweet, the taste of his offering's that was near as much as the two younger men that tended her farm.

The sound of wood being split forced her out of bed...

*

Jacob Stone slept well enough until the dreams of near dyin' woke him. He tossed n turned some, taking note of how little there was in the wood floored storeroom. The first signs of a new coming day eased him outside where he dismissed the need for coffee.

The coming daylight had him looking closer at the maybe twenty-acre farm as he hobbled Hope in a small patch of grass near the chicken coop. It were just enough to support a small family n work a man to death while he prayed for rain and a good crop in the fall.

Jacob Stone wanted no part of it.

He'd linger a bit, make some repairs and add to the storeroom, but then he'd be on his way... Unless.

The now widow was more than pretty to Jacob. She was a good listener and her words rang true. He'd not let his mind wander much more than that other then the sometimes sight of her hard nipples callin' out to him: he had a hard enough time sleeping...

*

Dinner was even better that night. Jacob had made the short trip to town, bought a smoked ham, two roasting hens to add the coop, ten ponds of flour and five of sugar: a pound of coffee and salt.

He'd dismissed Margrets hee-hawing with a wave of his hand and a request for a homemade pie of whatever she had while he tended to the repairs the shed needed. He took note of the smile in her eyes though the stern look on her face didn't agree.

That evening played out pretty much the same as the last. They talked some, shared a drink (he thought it cute the sometimes-different faces she made when tasting hers.) and when it came time for bed, he was gob smacked that she leaned over the table a gave him a gentle kiss.

"I've been wanting to do that since you told me 'What's done is done.' I know you meant it. You have no idea how that makes me feel."

Her hand covered his.

"I've had to do some things..."

Jacob's mouth covered hers. The young man had only been with a few camp following whores in his life. The only kisses he'd ever shared were with a girl four years ago, her pulling away n slapping him when he tried slipping his tongue inside her mouth.

This was very different.

Margret moved into him, turnin' a bit here and there to make things easier. She slow invited his soft searching tongue into her mouth. Their kisses lingered, her easing back to look into his eyes.

"You'll be kind to me Jacob?"

He didn't understand. He only wanted to be with this woman; share her with his own self. Enjoy the time he had with her. Margret Lamond allowed a very willing to please young man into her life. She guided his hands with hers and whispered words of encouragement. When he was too eager, she slowed his touch. When he pleased her, she'd gasp or cling to him.

She felt him struggle to slow down. She reveled in his searching hands n mouth. And when the time was right, she led him to her bedroom. Helped him to undress. Celebrated the look in his eyes, the trembling in his solid body, the size of his very long and very thick manhood.

She wanted the moment to last, easing away without touching him. Her eyes never left his as she slowly, deliberately slipped off the worn blue cotton dress. Her best chamois followed after her slippers were removed. When she neared, Margret caught his hands as he reached for her, easing them to his sides.

"We have all night, Jacob."...

*

The following days were filled with laughter, chores, playful teasing and many, many intimate times. Secrets were shared sometimes when they cuddled close, 'Maggie' soon baring her soul.

Well, most of it.

The farm she grew up on, her father drinking his self to death. A single mother of four, doing what she had to. Jules easing her burden by marrying Maggie. The sometimes-cruel things Jules did. His long absences as he gambled whatever they had or what he would have.

Jacob listened quiet, pullin' her close and kissin' her gentle or tasting the back of her ear as he pressed against her round bottom. He didn't judge when she shared some of the darker things she had to do, maybe tucking away some things he might want to try later. Truth be told, he liked most of these telling's. Soon enough it became clear neither wanted to be farmers or stay where they were. Long walks and shared dreams turned into narrowed thought and what they wanted to do with their future.

Jacob still had quite a bit in his poke. She wasn't sure on how much was owed on the farm or what it might be worth in the hard times following the war. More than once Greely's words 'Go west young man' slipped into his mind and their talks...

Maggie slow educated the young man in the ways she liked to be loved. Near always gentle at first, his mouth tasting her ears, neck n shoulders. He'd toy with her breasts and dark pink nipples, his thick fingers caressing her firm flesh, then rolling n easy tugging until her nipples were so hard they'd ache. She 'd moan as his mouth explored her taut stomach as those same fingers stroked her wet, open folds, paying close attention to her hard, standing high clit; just like she taught him. She turned her face away from his looking up eyes the first time he lowered his face into the musky thatch of tight curls deep between her thighs: whispering hard how he shouldn't and then gasping long n low as his tongue explored.

She often thought about their first time, when he eased his long, thick pecker near halfway inside and when she lifted her knees, drove the rest in so hard n deep her tight little pussy exploded as she soft screamed. When he started to pull back, she locked her feet around his hard muscled hips and held him so tight he'd just lingered deep inside.

She'd never felt anything like it and spent many an intimate time with him trying to reexperience that delicious pain and thorough pleasure...

*

Jacob and Mrs. Margret Stone sat in Simon Ketz's small office at the Granville Bank. The well-dressed man in his green n white striped waist coat n tails and matching pants was aloof, enjoying his position and memories of the things he'd done with the newly married widow sitting across from him looking down at the floor. He remembered her face down and perfect ass up...

"Well Sir, the original note on the Lamond farm was for ten years. I'm not sure what your wife has told you, but over the last four years there have been many, many payments missed. I only let things go because of my fondness for Jules and Margret here; with him being off to the war and all. With accrued interest..."

Mr. Ketz leaned back in his chair. Jacob Stone held his slow growing temper, only his blazing eyes warning the arrogant son of a bitch sitting across from him.

"And what would the farm and house be worth if we sold it today."

Simon Ketz finally met those eyes.

"Not much seeing what is still owed."

"I asked you a question Ketz."

Simon Ketz wasn't used to someone speaking to him as this young man was. He leaned forward placing his hands on his desk

"Now Sir, if you take that attitude wit..."

Jacob Stone hard stood, his hand dropping to his side to move his dark frock coat back and expose the Army Colt that set there.

"I'm wondering how many other alone women you been taking advantage of Ketz."

The president and owner of the Granville Bank took pause at the rising voice. Jacob Stone leaned close, his words hard n short.

"How many other women do you call Mama as they paddle your fat ass."

The color in Simon Ketz's face quick drained to somewhere deep inside. The hatred in the face of the man now leaning so very close said that life as Ketz knew it was going to change. How was up to him.

"How much Ketz."...

*

Ezekeil Adams took note of the young war veteran standing in front him: grey eyed and thick shouldered, a six-gun strapped low on his hip. This was no more a farmer then the widow who stood beside him.

"You know what the land is worth Mr. Adams. House too. All we're asking is the fair price."

Ezekeil looked to his oldest son n quick winked.

"Times are hard Mr. Stone. House is run down some. Land's good enough, my son has attested to that."

Jacob set his eyes on the older, now married son that he'd never met as he answered the older man.

"I've been told you had a deal with my wife for half her crop for yours plowing n planting n helping about. The house was neglected..."

"Now hold on young man. That deal was for tending the crops only."

Still looking at Mr. Adams oldest son, Jacob answered back.

"Was it?"

Zeke Adams the third flinched a bit n then leaned over to speak in his father's ear.

The older man's face pinched some and then nodded to Jacob Stone.

"Fifteen hundred. Thats the best I can do."

"Sixteen..."

He slipped his arm around his new wife.

",,, in double eagles."

The younger man extended his hand.

"Done n Done Mr. Stone."

Jacob took note of the quick smile offered his wife as a handshake closed the deal...

*

Maggie Stone was straddling her new husband's hips, his long pecker reaching deep inside. As she rocked her hips, she felt another rumbling through her soul. Her nails bit into his chest. As she slow settled, she opened her eyes to look into his.

"Z-Zeke was slower than Mathew, Jacob. Maybe because he was here longer. He loved my breasts n how hard my nipples would get."

Jacob flexed his rock-hard cock n enjoyed the soft gasp that passed through her now near always red stained lips. He loved her telling's and how she felt deep inside when she told them: and Maggie loved sharing them for her new man's pleasure.

He sometimes wondered how much were true n how some might not be.

"Did he have a big pecker woman."

"N-no."

She gasped as his hands squeezed her breasts then slipped behind her to ease her tight against his chest.

"Did you like it when he soft smiled at you today."

Maggie tasted the fresh shaved line of his jaw as he lifted her up slightly with his hips,

"Y-yesssss... He made me think how much he missed me n like he was remembering, and you didn't know."

Long, thick fingered hands closed tight on her bottom. He was slowly taking control over this woman her like she had him when he first arrived two months ago. She loved the power he had over life and death, the fear that filled Ketz's face when he stood tall, eyes telling and his right hand quiet signaling to the pale faced banker.

Keeping her tight against him, he rolled her onto her back. Mrs. Stone instinctively lifted her knees and then pushed feet high into the air as he crowded deeper inside.

"Oh, gawd Jacob."...

*

Margret Mary Stone stood in the doorway watching her husband practice with his Army Colt. He'd turn to look at her, the light cotton shift barely hiding her body from his eyes and then quick turn to draw n make the can he was shooting at dance across the open space between the house and waist high corn.

They would be leaving this farm and all the memories it held. She'd only take the ones they made together n those that Jacob had come to love as she told him. The coming of a man searching for Jules to collect the bounty on him had set their plans for their future.

Two days Bert Conner stayed, sharing their liquor with tales of his travels n the how and when's of the men he'd captured. She'd flirted with the man a bit when Jacob was doing this or that, having him tell of places he'd been n the men he knew. After Jacob would return, she'd gather the words she'd heard n commit them to pen n paper, making sure Jacob could tell these same tales when they headed west. It might get him the work they decided he'd like to do.

Maggie would tremble when she thought about how Bert had cornered her in the kitchen, his hands moving over her body, his fingers enjoying things he had no right to: how excited she got when she smiled over Bert's shoulder to Jacob as he tasted her neck, his hard pecker pressed tight against her. Then watching the passionate light that faded from his lust filled eyes as Jacob ended his life with his knife.

Turning, the now again excited woman waved her hips at her man and peeked over her shoulder as he moved in her direction. Hurrying to their bedroom, she slipped off the near white shift and laid over the bed, raising her hips and opening her knees some to greet him, Margret Mary trembled when she heard his coming boots on the wooden floor...

-0-

Though she'd seen river boats in the past, she'd never been on one. It would be Jacob's first time on one too. They'd decided on the train ride that they would be traveling as brother n sister, her slipping the gold band from her ring finger into her purse and then trunk after they boarded the Ohio Maiden. She kept the small two shot pistol he'd gotten her close, the sometimes-cold steel making her tremble when she hid it close to her pale skin. She sometimes wonder if she'd be able to use if a time called for it.

Their 'cabin' was small, the brass bed sagged, and the mattress worn as the rumbling steam boilers just below labored to do their job. They'd walk the crowded second deck, her trailing just behind to enjoy the changes in the slow-moving country as it slipped past. Towns small n large, fishermen of all shapes n sizes, barges moving and guided by sometimes bare-chested negro men.

When Jacob would take leave to gamble a bit, she'd sometimes wander alone, sharing a coy smile or hardened eyes, which ever suited her at that particular time. Jacob was slow coming into his own at the poker tables, remembering to look for 'tells' as Jules had called them. A tugging on one's ear, placing their money on their face down cards or a change in their voice said something. He watched the older, well-dressed men with their chips n gold coins stacked on their Union dollars, sometimes taking note of the more successful to let Maggie know who n what their names were.

They would look up together at the higher deck where the more affluent traveled, sharing thoughts n dreams of when they too could to enjoy some leisure time like those above them did. Both enjoyed their mornings together, the huge red paddle wheel pushing them through the rivers slow moving waters, the always there gulls diving to feed on whatever they could. Their love making and sometimes 'playful' sex were enjoyed often. Both would gather what newspapers they could find to learn as much as they could about the places they were heading to and what prospects might be available. When they docked in St Louis, they boarded Hopeful in a Livery, Jacob telling the man not once, but twice how important Hopeful was to him before continuing their travel westward on the Missouri River.

They spent several days in Independence and then boarded another river boat, the Lady of the Mississippi, to explore some more to the south. A nicer cabin, closer to the front of the boat allowed more comfort and a higher class of service; all paid for by Jacob's growing abilities at the poker tables.

She wondered out loud if they should consider his becoming a full-time gambler. Jacob flat said no.

"We made our decision. I want to explore the west Margret Mary. Maybe catch on as a Sheriff or a Peace Maker somewhere... Linger wherever and when we get the itch or something better comes along, be free to go until we find our shared place in the world."

He brushed a stray hair from her face.

"Besides, I still got some things I want to try with you. Travelin' with folks so close you can smell what they had for dinner makes that hard.; gossip n all."

She took his hand, kissing his palm.

"You worry about what people might say about me Jacob."

He curled his thumb into her mouth. Her near always stained lips now began something he truly enjoyed.

"I don't want to end up at the end of a rope for defendin' your honor Maggie... 'Specially if what they were saying were true."

"Mmmmm..."

He liked the sounds she made when she used her mouth n tongue like she was doing now. Liked it even better when it was her sucking on his cock, a practice she loved n swore she'd only done for him...

*

They were a day out of Natchez that Jacob's luck turned at the poker tables on the Lady of the Mississippi. He'd lost several hands that he thought he should of won early on. Doing what Jules Lamond said, 'never try to play out a bad streak' (something that he had admitted he never could do) he'd settled at the bar to have a last drink before returning to his cabin. Maybe some play time with Maggie would make him feel better.

It wasn't ten minutes when he overheard one of the players say how the 'hick' didn't have the backbone to keep playing.

"You wanna run with the dogs, you can't be pissing like a pup."

The laughter hadn't settled when Jacob rose from his stool at the bar. One of the players who the young man knew as 'Deuce' took note.

"The gentleman plays a solid game friend."

"The best thing about that boy is that sister of his. I'd like to set my boots under that gal's bed..."

The men that could see Jacob placed their cards down on worn tables top. Deuce eased his chair away from the table.

"I think it poor judgement to speak of a Lady in such a manner."

The words coming from behind the bold talking man were low n hard.

"You'll keep my sister out of your mouth you pot licking son of a bitch."

The man paid little heed of the eyes blazing Jacob Stone when he turned to look at him. The other players did, fast gathering their money as they slid their chairs away from the table.

"If you're in the mood for dying boy, we can settle this on a field of honor."

"Here suits me fine."

The blue coat, silver vested man spread his hands out as he slow rose and turned to face Jacob Stone. The few onlookers who weren't quite sure until then cleared the areas behind both men. The smiling blue coats eyes flickered as his right hand moved forward, the clicking of the metal on the quick draw slide silenced by two quick shots fired from Jacob Stone's pistol; so close together they sounded near as one.

All those watching saw the blue coats tails fly with the man as he fell hard back n then to the floor. When they looked back to Jacob Stone, his weapon was already holstered in the oiled black leather now holding it.

The drifting layers of blue-black smoke were cut through by a older, wiry man wearing a U. S. Marshals badge under his black leather vest. Gun drawn, he looked at Jacob and his already holstered Army Colt.

"United States Marshal Tom Chappell. I'd like you to just ease back some young man n maybe hand over that pistola."...

*

Jacob was finishing his drink, quiet sided by 'Deuce'. Marshal Chappell laid Jacob's Colt on the bar in front of him.

"I've spoke to most. All said the same. He drew first with that fancy rig he had up his coats sleeve."

The Marshal laid a pair of kings next the pistol.

"Had these in his vest pocket. Looks to me like you did some of these folks a favor."

He motioned to the bar keep who was lingering close n listening hard while he acted like he weren't. A fresh round of drinks were quick served. The piano player was on his third song and one of the poker tables was full again. The smell of burnt powder were near gone, swallowed up by fresh cigar smoke n low talking.

The Marshal extended his hand.

"Tom Chappell. Welcome to Louisiana."

The young man took his hand.

"Jacob Stone. Most recently from Ohio after finishin' out the War."

"Can I ask what you're doing so far south."

Jacob met worn, curious eyes.

"You can ask."

Then turned his attentions on his fresh poured whiskey. Deuce, listening quiet, chuckled. The Marshal shook his head n picked up his drink.

"To better times."

The now smiling Deuce raised his own drink.

"Even I can drink to that."

The three men shared drinks for the next hour n a half...

*

Margret Stone sat on the bed, her worried face and restained lips for the second time resting on the top of her arms wrapped around knees when Jacob quiet eased open their cabin door.

"It's about time you son of a bitch."

Jacob near smiled.

"Had me a little trouble."

Maggie laid back against the two pillows already set behind, her dark pink nipples small shadows under the thin night shirt she wore.

"I heard. It's the only thing being talked about on the entire second deck."

Jacob settled on the beds edge, his hand reaching for Maggie's. She pulled it away.

"I was worried Jacob. You know women aren't allowed anywhere near that bar n gambling room."

Jacob slow rose. Turning to face her as he removed the dark coat Maggie herself had made for him. The store-bought string tie and light green shirt followed.

"All I know is that you'd move heaven n earth if you thought harm had come to me woman..."

He sat as he pulled off his boots.

"... my bet is you been playin' with that sweet little pussy of yours figuring on just what happened n the look in that no account man's face as he died."

Maggie shook her head as he tugged off his socks and then stood to slip off his wool britches. The bulge in his half johns made the woman quiver a bit as she wrapped her arms tight around her quick rising n falling breasts under the white cotton she wore.

Jacob laid next to her, his wide hand reaching low and sliding under the edge of the night shirt along the inside of her calf n then thigh.

"I'd wager your as wet as my slicker would be on a hard raining night woman."

She gasped as his fingers bit into the tender flesh on the inside of her thigh having her spread them wider before searching the dew-covered curls. She reached for him as he found what he was looking for, two digits slipping easily inside.

Jacob hard smiled as he curled them both up feeling for that small, rough patch hid

close to n above her pubic bone. Maggie fell back into the pillows and soft feather mattress.

"Almost brought me a new friend to enjoy your charms, Margret."

His thumb found n circled her tender, well-worn clitty she abused with while she waited for his return to their cabin.

"Thought better of it though. What would a U. S. Marshal think about a man offering up his sister for a job they spoke of in Colorado or Nebraska territories."

Maggie twisted her needing body under the hands n words from her man. When he added a third moving finger into the tender, slippery entrance to her body, she cried out soft n long as her body again tightened that evening...

-0-

John 'Deuce' Delgado watched the bought n paid for whore strip off her clothes before soft smiling n crossing to him stretched out on the bed. Except for her dark hair, she favored Jacob Stone's sister: slender, big brown eyes and what he figured were the same size tits. Maybe a shade darker than the fair-haired woman, her hard nipples were like two over ripe berries swaying of her pale breasts.

He pointed to the edge of the bed near him and then motioned for her to open her thighs. He could smell her as she parted her thighs. Pushing his hand deep between the whore's legs, he thrust two fingers deep. The dark eyes closed as her thighs tightened some.

"How many been using this wet sloppy pussy before me tonight girl."

The whore wet her lips.

"J-just one."

"He pay as much as I did."

"N-no sir. You said you wanted me used some."

She raised up on tip toes as the mustache wearing man added another finger to the two already thrusting in and up inside her.

"You'll call me Jacob whore."

He pulled her closer with the three slimy wet fingers inside her.

"Y-yes Jacob."

He slipped his fingers free, wiping them against the inside of a trembling thigh.

"Turn around girl. I want a close up look at that ass before we get to fucking it."

The well-paid harlot gnawed at her lower lip as she did as she was told. She knew these kinds of men. Cruel... Wanting her to cry out when they used her. She'd charged him double when he said he wanted inside her ass. Now she was ready to please this well-dressed, good-looking son of a bitch. Slow turning, she put her hands on the top of her knees as she leaned forward to open her round, tight ass. She yelped as he eased a finger deep into her bottom, then whimpered when he started to slow move it.

John Delgado wondered if the woman was really Jacob Stone's sister. She followed him close like a sister would, but when they stopped to whisper or slowed seeing something they wanted to see; Jacob's hand would touch the slender, handsome woman's figure here or there.

He pushed a second finger into the whore. She yelped again, near straightening before easing back down.

Deuce wondered if Jacob Stone fucked his woman in the ass...

-0-

They changed boats in Baton Rouge after lingering there for the night. Chappell had sent word to the U. S. Marshals' office in Independence, and the two needed be there in the next week. With the Marshals letter of reference tucked away, the two were going to join Deuce Delgado for an evening of seeing the night life in the 'Red Stick'.

Margret was a bit disappointed that she'd not see New Orleans, but Jacob n their plans came first. She did enjoy the places Deuce took them to and the attentions she got from Jacob n him. Their dinner was excellent, Creole food being as exotic as the different libations served in the edge of the city restaurant. Deuce seemed to know most everyone as they listened to something called Zydeco music at 'One Eyed Jacks', a nearby 'livelier spot' as Deuce called it. Jacob had become a bit possessive, keeping her close after the several looks she received from some of the rougher looking men. The air inside was smoky, warm n heavy: filled with the high-spirited music. Some couples danced to the approval of the more men then women guests.

Several men stopped by their table, Deuce introducing a few. Margret Stone was soon fidgety, trying to settle in her low backed wooden chair, Jacob's hand light squeezing her's knowing what was going through her alcohol relaxed mind. More then one set of eyes lingered on the top of her tight bodice dress, two of these men extending their hand and kissing the back of her gloved one when she took them.

Jacob didn't seem to mind.

As the night lengthened, a lavender coat n tall beaver hat spoke to the two men escorting her. A smile crossed Deuces face as Jacob nodded. All three looked at soon blushing woman as she wondered what was being said. A not to long clarence (a glass enclosed carriage with drapes and the driver seated above) ride followed. After Jacob guided her inside and Deuce sat across from them, Mrs. Stone was soon asking questions. Leaning against her man, she slipped her hand inside his dark frock jacket and pouted up at him.

"And just where are we going now."

"That my dear, will be a surprise."

She loved the smile and took note that the two men met each other's eyes before Deuce looked out the parted drapes and her man continued.

"You'll need to remove your crinoline and at least two of the petticoats you're wearing. A large steel looped dress won't do."

Her puzzled look was retuned with an air of certainty.

"It'll be crowed where were goin' Darlin'."

"J-Jacob."

She looked from him to the mustached man sitting across from them in the very close quarters.

"You can sit n wait here in this fancy carriage if you'd prefer Magg's."

Magg's; his pet name for when they played many of their sinful names. He ran the back of his fingers over her cheek.

"This is somethin' you'll never be able to see again with where we're headin' n all."

The warmth that had gathered between her thighs during their adventurous night quick turned into a flood of heat throughout her body. Slow catching n holding her breath, she near stood in the small space between them and John Delgado.

"You'll have to look at Deuce Magg's; make sure he doesn't peek."

She felt the heat color her cheeks as she turned to face the dark, good looking mustached man. She wondered what her man was thinking.

He'd agreed to this.

She now understood why all three men looked at her and the hungry look in Deuce and the other's eyes. As she loosened the button at the back of her neck and then the several hooks holding her bodice tight against her chest, she kept a sharp eye on Deuce Delgado. She almost wanted him to look, wondering what Jacob would do if he caught his fellow gambler and very new friend seeing what belonged to him. They'd talked about Bert Conner before what happened. Planned most of it. But this was different. Jacob hadn't had time to let her know what he wanted.

With the back of her dress pretty much open, she struggled with each of the three buttons holding her skirt tight around her corseted waist. She heard Jacob low chuckle.

"You could be a Gentleman and help."

The chuckle became a soft laugh.

"We both know that fancy skirt and the three petticoats have to come off over your pretty little head."

She turned quick to face him.

"Y-you said two."

His eyes didn't waver. She was hard pressed to hold her tongue; the growing ache in her tummy won out.

"Then you watch your new friend."

She quick looked over her shoulder, turned back to face Jacob and struggled to pull the skirt part of her dress over her head. The first petticoat slow followed. She held her man's eyes as she shed the second.

"You know all I have under this one is my pantaloons, stocking n shoes."

Jacob slow nodded. Still holding his eyes, she slow removed her last petticoat. The red cloth wrapped steel n tied crinoline did nothing to hide her thin, light blue bloomers that accented her legs n near perfect hips. She stood there, her breath coming quick n shallow.

She saw that look in her husband's eyes.

"What do ya think Deuce."

Maggie closed her eyes tight.

"A fine-looking woman you chose to marry Jacob."

Mrs. Stones eyes flew open. Her husband met her shocked look.

"I told the Marshal when we were sharin' drinks Magg's. Wouldn't do to lie to the man that just handed us our future. Deuce was just there is all."

The still wide-eyed wife leaned to her left to collect her skirt.

"Just a minute Darlin'. I'd like you to do a slow turn for Mr. Delgado. Call it a thank you for tonight."

Margret Mary Stone trembled as she did as she was told, the near black-eyed man smiling as he drank in every inch of her in her best under garments meant only for Jacob's eyes. She could feel her nipples tighten in the thin chemise that shaded her breasts above the tight blue corset. Her husband's hand on her bottom stopped her facing the leering man.

"Take a good look Deuce."

The cocking sound of Jacob's Army Colt cut the shallow breathing silence.

"I've seen the way you looked at what's mine when you thought she was my sister. I chose not to ponder on what you might be thinkin' when you looked the same way at my wife"

The clarence came to a slow halt.

"Shame your little show is coming to an end Deuce. Magg's, you best get that skirt back on."...

*

The larger wood building, its low walled center lit by small torches, was surrounded by shadowed tiered benches, though all were standing.

The two men kept Maggie close between them as they crowded into what she thought was the third tier. More than one man looked to be surprised to see a woman. Maggie took note that she was one of just three, maybe four that she could see in the small shadowy arena.

Two men holding brightly colored roosters slow circled each other inside the walled circle, thrusting the squawking birds at each other. A bright red shirted man stood close. Maggie looked at Jacob when a hand grazed her bottom. The lack of petticoats made the quick contact almost intimate. She held her tongue.

Several men circled outside the low walls, calling out odds and taking what bets they could. Deuce knew the man closest, wagering fifty dollars with a wave of his hand. Jacob looked at his wife.

"You have a preference Darlin'."

Not trusting her voice to answer she shook her head. This time the hand tested the firm flesh of her bottom. Mrs. Stone crowded close to her husband, avoiding his questioning look. The red shirted man dropped his hand; the birds were set on the ground and their handlers quick moved away. With several squawks, the red, gold, green n blue colored birds continued to circle each other. All around her, men called out. She wasn't sure they knew the birds didn't understand them.

Cat calls, directions, encouragement and disappointment rained from the rafters to the edges of the ring. The birds would fly at each other, their talons trying to do what damage they could as they collided and twisted in the air. Some brightly colored feathers flew and slow settled. The screech of an attacking bird, the squawk from a hard stabbing talon...

The red shirted man's right hand shot into the air. The hand was back. Neither man at her sides took note. The red shirt stepped forward and pointed to his right. Her skirt was pushed between her thighs as the hand lifted to grind against her very needy pussy. Cheers, groans and cursing followed. Fingers tried to explore before the hand eased away. Margret looked over her shoulder. A plaid shirted older man smiled and slow stepped between some others to move away...

Deuce collected his winnings and looked to Jacob.

"I think your Missus brought me some luck."

Her husband smiled. A trebling Margret Mary met the gamblers eyes and forced a smile. Several bills were handed toward Jacob, who pushed the hand holding them to his wife.

"Maybe we should let her do a little betting."

Deuce smiled as her black gloved hand slow took the rumpled bills...

*

The Belle of the Mississippi was a newer river boat, its side white painted wheels mostly covered. It made softer sounds than the rear paddled boats they spent time on. They'd spent some extra knowing Jacob was near sure of getting a job they hoped he would. The cabin on the third deck was the finest they'd shared and the service more than good. Both wore their best and Jacob was pretty successful at the poker tables. Margret Mary copied some of the airs the other ladies put on. Jacob wasn't pleased.

"It's only for a few days Maggie. I'm suggesting you put them pretty feet back on the ground."

She didn't.

A day from St. Louis, he said it again as they were going to bed. He grabbed her by the wrist of the hand she waved him off with and found herself laid across his lap. His hand fell long and hard for several minutes, her bottom going from stinging to just plain painful. He rained down slaps from her bottom to the back of her thighs, leaving both bright n dull red marks and a few welts that would linger for more than a week. When he finally tired, she found her tear-stained face and very sore body lying on the floor.

"It'll be some time before you're spoiled again Mrs. Stone."

The sun was peeking from the east before he returned after leaving n hard closing their cabin door. It wasn't until St. Louis and after picking up Hopeful before he said a word to her...