Mail Order Mayhem (5 page)

“No, you’re doing everything right.”

“It’s okay to touch you?” Her voice was just a whisper. She was so embarrassed to ask, but didn’t want to do anything wrong.

“Absolutely. Anywhere you want to touch me.”

Her hand roamed around to his back and traced the muscles there. “Your body feels so hard.”

“Farming isn’t easy work. It builds muscles.” His lips brushed her cheek while his hands roamed behind her, stroking her backside.

She was startled when he touched her there. Was it okay for him to touch her there? He said she could touch him anywhere, so it must be. It felt strange, though.

He kissed her again, more passionately this time. His tongue making bold forays into her mouth. She moved her hand over his back, feeling a tingling sensation between her thighs. She could feel something poking her in the belly, and moved her hand down to move it out of the way. Shocked, she jerked her hand away when her fingers encountered his flesh. She could feel the blush rushing through her body and was thankful for the darkness.

He caught her hand and returned it to his manhood. “It’s okay to touch me there,” he grunted and covered her mouth with his once more.

She hadn’t meant to touch him there, but now that he’d put her hand back on it, she didn’t feel like she could pull it away without offending him. Her fingers gently squeezed, her hand exploring the size and shape of him. This must be the part that was going to be inside her body soon.

He groaned loudly, pulling her nightgown up to expose her thighs. He pushed her onto her back, one hand stroking her inner thigh, while the other cupped her generous breast. “You feel so soft. Let me know if I hurt you.” He moved one finger into her tight passage groaning as he tried to imagine what it would feel like to push inside her. He only hoped he could hold out long enough for her to find some pleasure in what they did. He wanted her to want to do this often.

Her hand left his member and returned to his shoulder, stroking him softly. He rolled on top of her, settling between her spread thighs. He cupped her face in his hands, whispering, “I can’t wait any more, baby.”

She nodded once, moving her hands to his shoulders and preparing herself for his invasion of her body. How would it feel to have the silky soft man-thing inside her? She was about to find out.

He pressed hard against her passage, moving it inside her. He stopped as he felt her barrier, pressing his lips to hers, plunging his tongue into her mouth as he broke through the barrier and sank all the way inside her.

It hurt! She pushed against his shoulders wanting him to get off of her. He’d put it inside her. Surely he was finished and would want to go back to his own side of the bed now.
“I’m sorry it hurts. It’ll be over soon.”

He wasn’t finished? She didn’t like this and wanted him out of her. She couldn’t tell him that, though. He wouldn’t like it.

He pulled back, and she felt him leave her body. She sighed with relief. He was done after all. She must have misunderstood. When he plunged back inside her, she let out a gasp of surprise. It didn’t hurt as much that time. He began rhythmically leaving her body and moving back inside her. It felt odd, but good. She felt something happening inside her. She was building toward something and felt like she was going to pop. She moved her hips in time with his, and suddenly, he let out a loud groan and sank
inside
her, jerking spasmodically a few times, and then collapsed on top of her.

She knew something else was supposed to happen. He couldn’t be finished. Her body was tingling and waiting for something more, but he just lay still on top of her, his penis still deep inside her.
She wanted to punch him in frustration.

After a few moments, he rolled off her, gathering her into his arms. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you.”

She blinked a few times. She’d already forgotten the pain. She wanted to know what hadn’t happened. She sighed tucking her head against his shoulder. Whatever it was, it obviously wasn’t going to happen now. He was already asleep, his soft breathing echoing throughout the room.

Chapter
Seven

John woke before sunrise the following morning as he always did. He lay on his side for a minute, with his head propped on his fist, staring at his bride. He knew she hadn’t found the same pleasure in his arms he’d found in hers, and he wanted to find some way to make it up to her. He wished he hadn’t had to cause her pain as he’d
loved her, but there had been no way to avoid it.

He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek, watching her eyes flutter open in the darkness. She seemed startled for a moment, but then smiled at him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. How did you sleep?”

She thought of the time she’d spent staring into the darkness after he’d gone to sleep, wishing she’d found the same elusive pleasure he had. “Okay, I guess. I’ve never slept in the same bed with anyone, so it was strange.”

He moved closer to her, dropping a kiss on her lips. “You’ll get used to it.” His hand went to her braid softly stroking her hair wishing she’d left it down to sleep. “Are you sore?”

She shook her head. “A little, but not bad.”

“Good.” His lips pressed against hers, his tongue seeking entrance. It would take a while before he could wake up next to his beautiful wife and not want to make love with her. His hands stroked down her sides, one of them going to cup her breast.

She pulled back looking up at him with wide eyes. “But it’s morning!”

He laughed. “When we have children, that’ll be a valid excuse not to make love in the mornings. Now? I need you.”

She hadn’t thought about him wanting to do this often. She’d thought maybe once or twice per month to try to get her pregnant, not twice per day! His hands were all over her, sending her body humming. She could feel the tingling between her thighs again, and this time she knew what it meant.

Putting her arms around him, she held him close, her lips moving against his, kissing him back. If he wanted to do this again, who was she to argue? She may not have found the same kind of pleasure he had the night before, but feeling him move inside her had been pleasant.

This time when he rolled on top of her and slipped inside her, she felt only pleasure. Her hips moved to meet his thrusts and she held onto his shoulders, digging her fingers into them. “This feels so good,” she heard herself whisper, and felt the blush race to her face. How could she say that to him?

He groaned, moving faster within her not seeming to mind her words. Again she felt something building inside her. The pressure seemed to get stronger and stronger and finally she arched her back, letting out a moan of pure pleasure. She felt her body break into a million tiny pieces. He wasn’t finished, though, and kept moving faster and faster within her, finally collapsing on top of her.

They lay in the aftermath with her hands caressing his shoulders and his face buried in her neck. She couldn’t believe she’d acted that way with anyone, especially her new husband. Of course, she wouldn’t act that way with anyone else.

A few minutes passed before he rolled off her and stood to pull his pants on. “I need to get the cow
s
milked. It’s getting light out.” Once he was dressed, he leaned over the bed and kissed her softly. “Do you have any idea how incredible you are?”

She blushed. “I’ll get breakfast.”

“Eggs are in the henhouse.” He left the room and went down the stairs to his chores whistling as he went.

Maude sat up, realizing she was sore after all. She stripped off her nightgown and quickly pulled on a work dress. She’d only brought two work dresses with her, one nightgown, a Sunday dress and her wedding dress. She’d need to start sewing as soon as she was finished with the house. She closed her eyes for a moment thinking about the enormous task in front of her getting the house in order.

After using the outhouse, she gathered the eggs and took them inside to cook for breakfast. It felt strange to cook for a man, but she smiled to herself. This was their first full day of marriage, and she was going to make it perfect for both of them.

*****

By the end of the day she was ready to pull her hair out. She’d spent half the day washing his clothes and hanging them on the line. She’d washed all the linens in the house, made bread, fixed three meals, and scrubbed until her fingers were raw. She’d barely made a dent in the mess, and she knew she’d have to take the next day off because it was Sunday.

She’d never dreamed being a wife meant this much physical labor. Of course, her mother had always employed a maid to help around the house. She had worked in the orphanage for years, though, and should have realized all that was involved, but of course, there were so many there to share the work it had seemed like there was less to do. She honestly didn’t know how she’d handle it once children came along.

When John came in for supper, she was already yawning. She knew he’d worked hard all day, but she had worked just as hard in the house. He set the milk pail next to the basin on her worktable, and then wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access as she stirred the stew she’d made for supper. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” he said against her neck as he nibbled contentedly.

“Well, sit down and I’ll put everything on the table.” She served him a big bowl of stew and several slices of bread. She got herself a bowl and sat down beside him, waiting for his prayer before she ate.

“This is delicious. You’re a good cook.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to make anything for dessert.”

He laughed. “I’m just thrilled I’m not eating my own cooking. Burnt eggs are about all I can do.”

She smiled. “Well, I’m glad I saved you from
a life of burnt eggs
.” She toyed with her stew, not very hungry, even after all the hard work she’d done. “What did you do today?”

“I had to fix a couple of fences today, and I spent a bit of time weeding the wheat field.” He looked around the house noting the cleaning she’d accomplished. “You got a lot done today.”

She nodded. “It’s going to take me a week or two to have everything the way I want it, but I feel like I’ve at least gotten started.”

The floor was clean enough to eat off of, and all of the laundry was dry and put away. She hadn’t started on the second story yet, but was almost pleased with the first. She still wanted to get the windows washed, but that could wait until next week.

“You have a lifetime to get it done. Don’t wear yourself out.”

She served him a second bowl of stew and washed the dishes they’d dirtied.
She felt his eyes on her as she faced away from him, looking out the window as she washed the dishes. “I made up a list of food I’ll need to get from the store on Monday. I’d also like to buy some fabric for a couple of new dresses if that would be all right.”

“That’s fine. Don’t go crazy spending all our money, but we can afford two new dresses.”

She’d taken inventory of his clothes, and knew some needed mending, but he had plenty for now. “Will you go to town with me on Monday? Or should I drive myself?”

“I’ll go this first time. After that you can make your way on your own.” He took another bite of his stew savoring the taste. “I usually have lunch with Al and Anne on Sundays after church. Do you want to do that or come straight home?”

She thought about it for a minute. She needed to write her letters, but she had plenty of time for that. “We can go to lunch with them. I like Anne and would love to get to know her better.”

He was disappointed with her answer. He would have liked to have had an entire day off with her, but he did understand her need to make friends locally. “We’ll do that. Do you have anything else you need to do tomorrow?”

“I just need to write those two letters I told you about.” She had been mentally composing the letter to her parents all day. She wasn’t sure how to tell them what she’d done, but she didn’t want them to worry about her. “I won’t do any more of the heavy cleaning until Monday.”

He stood to take her his dirty dishes and dropped them in the basin for her. He once again sat down and chatted with her while she finished up the dishes. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She seemed so reserved, but she certainly wasn’t reserved once he got her upstairs. He smiled. She was exactly what he’d needed in his life.

Chapter Eight

Maude was the center of attention at church on Sunday. All the women were clamoring for an introduction, and she felt more than a little overwhelmed. She’d never had a lot of friends, because her parents had kept such a tight rein on her. Even female friends had been discouraged over the years. Sure, she’d had friends at the small private school her parents had sent her to, but she’d never been allowed to see them outside of school hours, so she’d felt very much alone.

The pastor made sure to shake her hand and make her feel welcome before the sermon. She felt like she’d met half the population of Iowa by the time they sat down for the service.

After church, she was pleased when Anne took her hand and pulled her away. They walked to Anne’s home with Anne chattering away animatedly. “
You can just watch while I cook lunch, because I really don’t need any help, and my kitchen isn’t as big as yours so there’s not much room for two women to be working in it.” She spoke rapidly and seemed to never pause for breath. Just listening to her wore Maude out, but she was glad to not have to say much.

Maude wondered at the difference between the Anne she’d met a couple of days ago and the Anne she was with now. Maybe the first time she met someone, she had questions about them, but after that, she just preferred the sound of her own voice. Whatever it was, Maude was happy not to have to talk for a while after answering everyone’s questions at the church.

“So what do you think of married life? Is John just doting on you and treating you like a queen? Please tell me he cleaned up the house before you arrived. I was going to help him, but Al said absolutely not with as far along as I am in my pregnancy. He’s afraid I’m going to go into labor and give birth before he can fetch the midwife. He’s really worried about the baby coming early, but I keep telling him it will all be fine.” Anne never waited for an answer to anything; she seemed to just enjoy hearing her own voice asking questions whether they were answered or not.

Maude listened happily while Anne fixed lunch. She’d tried to offer to help, but Anne had cut her off mid-sentence. “Of course, you can’t help. It’s my house and you’re my guest. Someday we’ll have Sunday lunch at your house. Do you like to cook? John’s favorite dessert is strawberry shortcake, and since the strawberries are ripe now, you should pick some and make it for him.
There are always some growing wild on the farm .
I’ll give you my recipe before you go.” She worked the same way sh
e talked, rapidly without ever
pausing for anything.

Once lunch was on the table, the men joined them from the front porch where they’d been talking. Anne dominated the conversation throughout the meal. As they started their dessert, Maude realized she’d never heard Al speak a single word. She wondered if that was by choice or necessity. Maybe he’d spent so long with Anne not being able to speak that he didn’t remember how to carry on a conversation.

After lunch, Maude did the dishes while Anne sat and chattered away at her. “You’ll have to come in sometime during the week once you’re caught up on your household chores. Maybe you could come in and help me sew for the baby. We could sit and sew and just talk and talk. I love having a sister who I can talk to and share stories with, don’t you?”

Maude waited a second to make sure she was really expected to answer before saying, “I do enjoy having a sister. I’m an only child, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

“An only child? Oh, that’s terrible! I mean, my brothers may have been rowdy and crazy and teasing all the time, but at least I wasn’t alone. I couldn’t imagine being an only child. I hope to have at least four children, so my baby won’t feel all alone in the world.”

When it was time to leave, Maude felt like she knew everything there was to know about Anne. She climbed onto the wagon seat next to John and waved. “You hurry back. Don’t wait until Sunday. I can’t wait until we can sit down and get to know one another better without men underfoot!”

Maude just smiled, knowing by this point she wasn’t expected to reply. The men had stayed on the porch the entire time except the meal anyway, but she wasn’t about to point that out.

Once they were out of sight of Anne’s house, Maude let out a sigh of relief. “Does she always talk that much?”

John laughed. “Always! I haven’t heard Al say a word in her presence since they started courting.”

Maude grinned. “They do seem like an odd couple, but that’s probably why they fit together so well.” She stared down at her hands for a moment. “Your brother is able to talk, isn’t he?”

“Yup. Just not around her, but no one is able to talk around Anne.”

They laughed together. “I need to get those letters written once we get home. Would you be okay with just having stew for dinner again tonight?”
She felt guilty for even asking to make a simple meal two nights in a row, but there was so much to do. He was her husband and she wanted to spoil him with good food, but it would have to wait.

“As long as I’m not burning my own dinner, I’ll eat anything!”

Once they were home, she change
d
out of her Sunday clothes and sat down at the table to write her letters. John sat down with a book and read while she worked on them. She wrote the letter to Harriett first, explaining she had arrived safely and that John was a kind man. She also told her the situation was better than she’d hoped for other than the state of his house.

Once she was done with Harriett’s letter, she pulled another sheet of paper to her. She needed to let her parents know she was okay, but she didn’t want to have to admit what she
’d done
. What was the best way to write it?

Finally she simply wrote, “I couldn’t marry Horace. He was a bad man who frightened me. I felt if I stayed there I would have no choices in life especially once I was married to him. Instead, I replied to a letter from a man looking for a mail order bride. He’s a farmer named John, and he’s very kind to me. I married him on Friday. Please forgive me for the way I left. I didn’t feel as if I had any other options.” She signed it with love and
wrote
her name at the bottom.

She read over each of her letters to make certain they were saying exactly what she needed to say.
Glancing at the clock, she saw it was time to start dinner if they were going to eat at a decent hour. She’d agonized over the letter to her parents for more than an hour.

John was watching her when she stood. “Are you hungry?” She wasn’t sure why she was even asking. John was always hungry as far as she could tell.

He nodded. “Why don’t you make something simple, though? We can just have eggs or pancakes. You don’t need to go through the trouble of making a stew.” He could see how upset she was and couldn’t help but wonder what was in those letters. He’d thought she was simply letting her parents know she’d arrived safely.

She considered that for a moment and nodded. She was exhausted. Writing the letter to her parents had taken a lot out of her. “I’ll make some pancakes.” She pulled out the ingredients she’d need and a large mixing bowl.

“Do you mind if I read the letters you wrote?” He watched her face carefully for her reaction.

She started for a moment, staring at him, and then nodded slowly. She’d been looking for a way to tell him about Horace and why she’d left Beckham. She just wasn’t certain how to broach the subject. This would certainly get them started talking about her decision to become his wife.

He picked up her letter to Harriett first, and she remembered too late what she’d written about the state of his house. She turned her back to him adding the ingredients and mixing the batter for the pancakes. “I’m sorry about the messy house,” he said from behind her. “I should have cleaned it, but by the time I knew you were coming
,
it was planting season, and I was so tired at the end of every day, all I could think about was sleep. I should have paid someone to come out and do it or waited on the wedding.”

She shook her head. “I understand. It was just a bit overwhelming, and Harriett needs to know that type of situation is a possibility so she can warn other women. I’m sorry I complained about you.”

“You shouldn’t be. This house should have been complained about.”
He picked up the other letter and began reading it. When he was finished, he folded it silently and sat staring at it for a minute digesting what he’d just read. “Tell me about Horace.” His voice was soft, but she knew he was upset.

She poured the first of the pancakes into the frying pan. She kept her voice steady as she explained. “Horace is in his forties, and he’s my father’s boss. I’ve known him since I was a little girl. When I was about fourteen, he started looking at me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. Over the years, he’s spent more and more time at my parents’ house, having dinner with us. A couple of months ago, he came to dinner, and my parents made excuses to leave us alone. He asked me to marry him, and when I told him ‘no’, he told me I didn’t have a choice.” She took a deep shaky breath, putting the first of the pancakes on a plate and handing them to him before she continued. “He kissed me and touched me, and it made me feel like there were spiders crawling all over me. It was horrible.”

John stared down at the food in front of him, reaching for the molasses she’d set on the table. “Why didn’t you tell your parents that?”

She poured more pancakes. “I did. They told me he’d provide well for me.” She looked out the window for a moment. “He had enough money to provide well. That was the truth. But he would have been cruel to me. I was so afraid of him.” Putting the pancakes on a plate, she carried them to the table, forking two of the four onto his plate, before settling down with her own. “I overheard Harriett talking at the post office about not having enough brides for all the letters she was receiving less than a week later. I jumped at the chance. I sneaked out in the middle of the night to take my bags to Harriett, so I could just leave for the train without it being obvious. My parents thought I went to the orphanage to work that morning, and they haven’t seen me since.”

“I’m sure they’re worried sick.”
He couldn’t imagine how he would feel if his daughter went off to work one morning and simply never returned. He was certain they were in a state of terror.

“I know. I feel terrible about it. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

He reached across the table and took her hand in his.
“You did the right thing. I wish you’d told me, but you shouldn’t have stayed in that situation.”

She met his eyes for the first time since he’d read the letters. “I didn’t want you to think I was a bad person for running away and marrying you when I was engaged to someone else.”

He shook his head. “You never agreed to marry the man, so engaged or not, you weren’t committed to him. I’m glad you’re my wife.”

“I am too.” And she was. When she’d left Beckham, she had been frightened and worried every time she’d seen someone move behind her. Here, she felt free. She’d married a good man, and she knew they’d have a good life together.

After making love that night, he held her close for a long time staring up at the dark ceiling. He was sorry circumstances had forced her to marry, but so glad she’d married him. She slept with her head pillowed on his shoulder, and h
e dropped a kiss on top of it. He was going to make sure she never had any regrets about deciding to be his wife.