Journeys West Chapter 2 The Saga is Set in Motion
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Journeys West - Chapter 3 - Escape To Laramie free porn video
Chapter 3 - Escape to Laramie
Her fingers closed on the solid object at the bottom of the bag. She
would have preferred something pointed, but we must utilize what God
provides us in a time of crisis. Hope quickly waned when she realized it
was her perfume bottle. Perhaps she could use that as a weapon and smash
him over the head with it. Regrettably she realized it was too fragile
to do any real damage; so Mary resorted to the next best thing. Grasping
the perfume bottle and wishing that it was a can of pepper spray instead,
she allowed her purse to drop away. With a sense of bravado that came
from deep within her enraged soul she said, "Here Steve! This is your
payment!" She gave Steve two quick squirts in the face.
His yell sounded like a banshee as the liquid hit his eyes. Reflexively,
he released her and rubbed at his eyes. "Shit! I'll kill you, bitch!"
He no longer sounded a knight in white armor. His outrage at the
indignity of a girl fighting back when he was only taking what he was
entitled to made him sound like a street thug thwarted in his plans.
Mary Sue had heard that tone of voice several times at work...right
before a bouncer took hold of his shirt collar.
Mary Sue remembered back to when her brothers would wrestle with her.
Her ultimate weapon was always her strong legs. While he was distracted
trying to clear his eyes she planted the hardest kick her adrenaline-
filled body could manage...right between the legs. He went down with a
thud and a groan that told her now was the time to get the hell away.
Moving in a way that would make any Hollywood stuntman proud, she lithely
vaulted over the closed car door and she was behind the wheel like she
had been practicing it. She roared off, leaving her would-be attacked
rubbing at his face. A few miles down the road she looked down at the
speedometer, 80mph, and she lifted her foot off the gas. That was close,
she felt shaky all over. She didn't feel that she could stop yet but she
was starting to feel sick. Adrenaline is great in a crisis but it leaves
as fast as it comes. She watched the road signs and took the first exit
that offered public facilities and lots of people.
Getting out of her car was a test of strength both physically and
mentally. As she stood beside the car, she took a deep breath to steady
herself. Taking another breath gave her the ability to get into the
restroom where she proceeded to retch what little was in her stomach.
Feeling a little better, she went to the sink to splash water on her
face. She was devastated at what she saw. Her hair was a mess, she had
dirt and oil down the front of her sundress, and as she turned around
there where two hand prints on her backside. Splashing water was not
going to get her cleaned up. Composing herself, she walked back out to
her car where she got the few things she needed. A change of clothes was
in order. This time a pair of jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes were
definitely the way she was going. She was feeling a little more normal
when she got back on the road. She needed more miles between herself and
where she left cowboy Steve holding his family jewels. She didn't want
to run the risk of finding that Steve had friends hanging around here.
She drove until dark, checking her rearview mirror the entire time to
ensure that Steve wasn't following her. Satisfied she had made good her
escape, she pulled into a motel. She felt better after a good night's
sleep and used her map and smartphone to plan out the day's route. The
car seemed to be running okay again, but she made a mental note to have
it checked when she could.
The next three days were uneventful compared to her recent roadside
misadventure. Mary was humming merrily to a show tune and reflecting on
her exploits so far. The unending sameness of the terrain was almost
hypnotic. She was afraid to stress her car with the freeway high speeds;
so she stayed off the interstate and took secondary roads whenever
possible. She didn't want a repeat of her assault. She thought that she
would be safer between small towns as they were closer together. A
serendipitous decision as it turned out.
Mary Sue had traveled through several small towns and she thoroughly
enjoyed the openness she encountered in people. Almost everyone was
willing to talk to her and share stories that had been passed down to
them from their parents and grandparents. Even churches opened their
records for her inspection. She became acquainted with every town hall
along her route; public records provided a windfall of information. She
had already filled half a dozen notebooks with data. Each small
community had its unique history. Being contiguous to the Oregon Trail
most had a strong connection with the events of the trains and emigrants
that passed their way.
A surprising number of people she met had tales to tell concerning
passing wagons. Not surprisingly, families on the wagon trains
frequently gave up when hardships broke their will. They would peel off
from the trains and settle in and around the closest settlements. Their
ordeals were passed down from generation to generation. She happily
recorded the oral history of the locals. She had a suitcase full of
tapes from her interviews. Obviously, not all were involved with her
train, but there were quite a few. The summer of 1897 is still talked
about among the residents of Nebraska for its frequent and violent
storms. For example, on the morning of March 30, 1897, a ferocious
tornado had swept through the area ... using the modern Fujita scale, it
would have been rated an F5 as it spawned winds near 320 miles per hour.
According to local meteorological records, it was the most powerful ever
recorded.
Thunderstorms were almost a daily occurrence that summer. They often
turned the prairie into a sea of mud. This frequently meant that
settlers stopped for the night within sight of their previous day's
campsite. Even with fair weather if the ground were rocky, or when there
were rivers to be crossed, or hills to be climbed the emigrants might
toil all day long to progress less than five miles. If a train managed
ten miles in a day, it was considered a good day. As a result, it was
not uncommon for a wagon train to find that they were unlikely to get
through the mountain passes before the snows came. The hardships of the
1847 Donor Party still came to mind.
As the miles rolled by for her, Mary felt a warm glow at what she had
accomplished so far. From town archives and family oral traditions, she
had positively identified 30 deaths and 18 families that had dropped out
and settled along the trail. Most went on to happy and successful lives.
Several general themes kept recurring. The incredible hardships
experienced by that last train sapped everyone's strength. A hundred
different myths evolved about what those poor souls went through. The
hunting exploits of Buffalo Bill were the most common topic. In addition
to the privations and suffering, Mary heard tales of great heroism. A
young man, a hired teamster who couldn't swim, dove into a swollen
stream, sacrificing his life to rescue a drowning woman, who went on to
be the matriarch of a huge family.
She tried to focus her inquires around Wild Bill Cody and the wagon
master. But at each stop, the conversations seemed to be drawn to
stories of a young, exotic gypsy girl who had a mystical, almost
medicine-man knowledge of herbs and plants. Whenever anyone was sick or
injured she would disappear into the bush and return later with a handful
of flowers and plants. She made poultices and teas that saved the lives
of many desperate patients. Her reputation would precede the train as
out-riders would pass through the towns ahead. Several times, the wagons
would be met by folks who did not have access to a doctor.
Leaving the metropolis of Cheyenne in her rearview mirror, Mary Sue only
had another 40 miles to go before her next major rest stop at Fort
Laramie. Her journals and records were very specific, that is where the
train was forced to winter over. She planned on spending several days
there collecting data. Maybe she could discover
Information that would be important to her thesis.
She pulled off the road into a scenic overlook rest area just outside of
town. Happy to be able to stop driving for a while. She walked to the
railing and marveled at the beauty of the valley below her. It reminded
her of eastern Pennsylvania where she grew up. Using her smart phone,
she searched for a suitable motel to serve as her command post for her
stay. According to the last census, there were approximately 30 thousand
people in the area, but it was hard to believe from the appearance of the
part of town she found herself in. The barrenness of the area meant that
her choices of accommodations would probably be limited. There were a
couple of really nice places, but way-out of her price range. She was
forced to settle for her customary - Motel 6. It was either that or go
back to Cheyenne.
After getting settled into the motel, Mary Sue took stock of her supplies
and made a shopping list. She was going to need some things, pepper
spray being one of them. She didn't want to run into one of cowboy
Steve's knuckle-dragging cousins and have no way to escape them. Mary
Sue had never been a shopaholic but an hour or two of retail therapy
always helped. Because she had thrown the sundress away, she thought she
should find a replacement.
She found a store, quaintly called The Mercantile, where she could get
clothes, toiletries, maybe some fruit. She headed for the health and
beauty area first, sun screen and after sun lotion because she could feel
the stinging that comes from being in the sun too long. She was paying
the price for driving with the top down for the past few days. She
needed some shampoo and conditioner, the little bottles in hotels and
motels were never enough.
Next came clothing, she didn't have a lot of dress clothes on hand and
she had a hard time finding "girly" clothes she liked amid the selection
that was available. That sundress was one of three that she had liked.
It really pissed her off that the creep had ruined it. Now if he had
been a handsome prince on a white horse instead of a jack ass in a pickup
truck and it had been an act of passion instead of a mauling she might
not be so mad. Shaking herself out of the day-dream, she found a dress,
a pair of shorts and a couple of tops. Now to the food, she was tired of
junk food and thought apples and bananas would be good for a change.
She was scanning the shelves as she moved down the aisle and was more
focused on what she wanted to buy than where she was going. As a result,
she was startled when her cart came to a sharp halt with a crash that
only comes from two grocery carts colliding. The other person must not
have been paying attention either because he looked as surprised as Mary
Sue was. She heard a few giggles from spectators as she looked at the
other shopper and found herself looking into a pair of bright blue eyes
that practically glowed.
The owner of the blue eyes had a nice deep voice as well that seemed to
make her vibrate when he spoke. "I'm so sorry are you okay?"
Mary took in the good-looking guy surrounding those blue eyes. He was
only an inch or two taller than she was, putting him just short of six
feet. With a solid build and a light complexion, she thought that he
could pass for a modern-day Viking. He was in pretty good shape, but he
wasn't a body builder. Interestingly, he didn't have the light, blonde
hair that one would expect to see with blue eyes. Instead, the neatly
combed dark brown hair seemed to make his eyes and skin stand out even
more. What made the picture complete was the mouthful of white teeth
that appeared as he smiled at her.
"Yes, I'm fine. A little startled but okay." She replied feeling the
color rise to her face. There was a flutter in the pit of her stomach
when he smiled at her. He could have been snarky about the whole thing,
but was completely gracious instead.
"I'm glad; I would hate to have someone as pretty as you hurt in this
high speed crash." He chuckled.
"No, I think this is one that can be written down as survivable." Mary
Sue was not sure how to take this friendly encounter. He was a nice
looking guy, but after the last encounter with a stranger her guard still
was up and she wanted to be careful.
"I'm glad there is no permanent damage. Have a good evening." Before
Mary could walk away, he turned back to her and said, "Maybe we should
exchange phone numbers in case there was an injury. You know, for
insurance purposed." His eyes seemed to twinkle at his humorous
suggestion.
All Mary Sue could do was nod and scribble her name and phone number down
on a scrap of paper. She giggled a bit as she traded her piece of paper
for the one the handsome stranger was holding out. He smiled at her
again and thanked her before he moved off to the next aisle. She looked
after him, strangely tempted to call out to him.
Once her legs stopped wobbling, Mary Sue finished her shopping and headed
to the check-out. She glanced over the rag mag headlines. Looking
around, she saw the man she had bumped into. He smiled at her and gave
her a little nod as he took his bags and headed to the door. She had to
stop for a few seconds. Why did a smile from a total stranger like him
make her blush like that? Then...What had he meant by that smile? Was he
going to be waiting to attack her in the parking lot? No, there were
cameras out there so she should be safe. She would just be very careful
going to her car. She didn't know why she had just handed over her phone
number that way. She was just glad that it was a long-distance phone
call because that would keep him from bothering her.
As Mary unloaded her cart at the register, the matronly cashier grinned
at her. "I see you've met the town's most eligible bachelor. He's a
real hunk isn't he?"
Mary was unsure how to respond so she replied rather noncommittally,
"Yes, he did seem nice." She really did not want to admit that she
wanted to spend more time with him.
As the clerk scanned the various items, she continued to make small talk.
"I haven't seen you here before. Moving into town or just passing
through?"
"I'm just here for a few days; I am on my way to Oregon and I'm having
car trouble." Mary answered.
After giving her the total, the cashier smiled at her and said, "My
name's Billy Jean. Welcome to town, will that be cash or credit card, we
only take local checks."
Mary dug into her purse and fished out the last of her money. "Is there
an ATM near here, this about does it for my hard cash."
"Sure honey. Right down Main Street there's a bank with an ATM out
front. You can't miss it, sitting there across the street from that
garage you wanted."
"Is the garage reliable?"
Billy Jean wrinkled her nose in a brief look of distaste. "The owner is
the town's leading citizen, Tom Kaylock. He's that old fart in the
poster in the window. He's running for congress. His family goes way
back and he owns nearly everything that's worth owning in these parts.
The mechanic that works there is capable and will treat you honestly.
Just don't let him get you alone in his office."
Then with a wink she added, "He fancies himself a real ladies man, if you
know what I mean?"
Mary thanked the helpful clerk and headed to her car, determined to find
Main Street. It turned out to be a rather easy accomplishment as this
part of town was mainly houses and the commercial section was only about
two blocks long. She pulled up next to the garage and knocked on the
door. A man in his thirties wearing grease-stained overalls and old John
Deere cap pushed back on his head that failed to hide his developing
widow's peak and oily hair, opened the door. With a charming smile, he
wiped his brow with a grease stained rag, and said, "Is it hot in here or
is it just me? Howdy Miss, how may I be of service to you?"
"I'd like you to take a look at my car." She could already see what
Billy Jean had warned her about.
He looked over her shoulder and glared at her little car with contempt.
"What exactly seems to be the problem?"
"It started to make a terrible noise and I was afraid things would fall
off."
"Know a lot about cars Miss?"
"No, I don't." She hoped that didn't mean that he would try taking
advantage of her.
He smiled at her in genuine friendship. "Well imagine that, a woman who
admits knowing nothing about cars. Let's pull that thing into the bay
and get her hoisted up and I'll see if I can find your noisy gremlin."
Mary Sue drove the car through the narrow doors so that it was positioned
properly on the auto lift. She stepped out of the car, firmly gripping
her purse. She slid into the narrow space between the car and the side
wall of the shop with its assortment of tools and old spare parts. She
immediately encountered a problem: the mechanic was blocking her only
escape route and he was closing the space between them rapidly. He held
out his hand, Mary was afraid he would try and grab her. He stopped a
half a pace away, but close enough she could smell onions on his breath.
"I'll need your keys, if you want my expert opinion." He smiled and
continued "I'm Hiram Wilson, what is your name pretty lady?"
Handing him the keys, she introduced herself. "I'm Mary Sue McLaughlin."
Hiram tossed the keys into the air as if playing catch and said, "This
might take a few days. I don't carry many spare parts for fancy foreign
vehicles from New York City. My family's been here since the turn of the
century, the 19th century that is. I know all there is to know about
this here countryside. Where are you staying? Maybe I can stop by after
work, show you a little western hospitality and take you out for a
drink."
"I don't think so. I have some work to do while I'm here." His
closeness made her jittery and her memories of Steve were contributing to
her nervousness.
"Well, if you decide you want some real down home western fun, I'm your
man. I never had a lady friend ask for her money back after a night with
me." He backed out of the space to let her by.
She rolled her eyes and headed toward the front door, checking frequently
to make sure that she wasn't being followed by the creepy grease monkey.
Then it dawned on Mary Sue, that last name had a familiar ring to it so
she asked, "Did your family arrive here by any chance on a wagon train?"
"Sure did, led by none other than Buffalo Bill himself. My great
grandmother died of TB that first winter. So the family decided not to
go on." He paused and then said, "The Wilson family has been here ever
since. I'll give your car a quick diagnostic and I'll have a better idea
of how long you'll be staying in our little town." He started the car
up, opened the bonnet, scratched his head and stared dubiously at the
engine."
"Can you fix it?" She inquired.
"To be honest with you, most of my profits come from selling spare parts,
most people here about work on their own vehicles. But I'm a first rate
mechanic, school trained in the Army. Trust me; if it's fixable I'm your
man."
"Thanks, I'll be in the caf? getting something to eat. Let me know what
you find." Mary nodded her appreciation as she turned away.
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