Hardman Hill
- 1 year ago
- 15
- 0
Hard To ChewChapter 4 free porn video
"My heavens. How did word get around so quickly? I can't walk the hall without one of the girls giving me congratulations." Mary pinned her best friend in place with a disapproving stare. "I thought I swore you to secrecy?"
"I swear, Mary. I only told Jenny. And anyways, that was before you made me swear."
Before Mary could vent her perturbed feelings any further, the door to the dormitory burst open and girl after girl filed in. Voices cluttered the air with excited chatter as they found places on and around the beds in Mary's immediate vicinity. Jostling each other for position, elbows poked into ribs and toes tapped against shoulders. Mary could hardly believe it. Nearly every girl in their dorm sat eyes fastened on her. She glared at Jolene, then turned back to the room full of fellow orphans.
Polly, a pretty girl of fourteen was the first to speak up. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement. "All of us, every one, want you to know how romantic we think this is. Golly, how we envy you! Imagine, you're marrying a man you know only from an advertisement in the paper." A chorus of sighs circled the room. Polly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her gray pinafore and a broad smile filled her face. "Its just so exciting! Going off to marry a stranger in a far away place."
"We think you're the bravest person in the world," Jenny chirped. "I'd never. I just couldn't."
At that, several voices started at once. Mary turned her head from one girl to another, unable to answer one before another spoke. "When are you gonna leave?" "Did he send you a tintype? What's he look like." "Where is Tehachapi?"
"Oh my heavens," Mary sighed. She put a hand to her forehead. All the attention and questions made her head swim.
Jolene suddenly felt very badly about having encouraged the others to seek out Mary after the noon meal. She had been so sure that Mary would love the attention. She would, if it was herself traipsing off like this. She placed a protective arm around Mary's shoulder and shushed the girls into quiet once more. Whispering into Mary's ear, Jolene tried to apologize. "I'm so sorry, Mary. Really."
"It's all right, Jolene." Mary took Jolene's hand in her own and gave it a reaffirming squeeze. She even managed to smile just a little. After all, it was as much excitement as the orphanage had seen in ages. Mary straightened the skirt of her pinafore and looked about the room. "I don't leave for a week. On next Thursday morning's stagecoach. And I have no idea what Mr. Burgstone looks like, but I'm sure he's a gentleman. He's a farmer. That's about all I know."
The room full of girls took that in. Jenny, sitting practically at Mary's knee, swept her long brown hair back over her shoulder where she felt it belonged. "We've all been trying to think of what we could give you. You know, for a wedding present." Pausing for a moment, Jenny looked around the room as if to get final permission from the assembled girls to go on. "What we decided was... we want to pitch in and make you a new dress or two. We'll let you help pick out the cloth at Poposki's Mercantile. He has some wonderful cottons. The prettiest little blue flowers."
"And, we found an old steamer trunk in the attic," Jolene put in. "Probably belonged to somebody gone long ago. At least no one is claiming it. Not even any of the boys."
"We can work on the dresses after the kitchen is cleaned and closed at night," Jenny pulled at her hair again. "We should be able to get them finished in time. Ruth is real quick with a needle and thread. And Elizabeth's willing to tat some lace for the collar."
"Oh my Heavens. I... I don't know what to say. I'll be proud to accept." Mary's eyes filled with moisture. For the girls to gather enough material for two dresses they would have to spend most of their combined savings. She knew how hard it was to keep even a penny. She hadn't known the others would feel this way about her leaving. Mary lifted the hem of her pinafore and dabbed at the corner of her eyes.
The girls seemed satisfied that their gift was properly appreciated and once again began excited conversations with their closest neighbors. Filtering out of the room, they went back to their chores.
Mary was concerned about how she was going to get the trunk filled with her meager possessions to the stage depot from the orphanage. Bright and early Thursday morning, however, every girl in the orphanage old enough to tag along trailed behind Mary and Jolene as they walked the two miles to the Butterfield Stage depot. Two of the older boys hauled her trunk. The air was filled with excited giggles as they marched through the predawn hour to see her off.
The stage left the station exactly on time. Mary was relieved that all the tears and hugs were finally behind her. She never realized how important the girls were to her before this last week. Imagine, leaving familiar surroundings and the many friends she had made over the past two years for a total unknown. Mary lifted her chin, just a little. She willed the fluttery feeling in her stomach to cease. Taking a deep, ragged breath, Mary pulled her thoughts back to the happenings around her.
The coach leaving Los Angeles carried a full complement of passengers. A matronly lady of buxom build sat next to the window and directly across from Mary. She closely watched a fidgety boy of about five. Both were well dressed. The lady, probably twice Mary's age, wore a finely tailored dress and traveling cloak. The detail work and rich brown fabric showed the worth of the woman's wardrobe. With her dark blonde hair piled on top of her head crowned by a fashionable hat and veil, Mary admired her ability to so easily wear an outfit costing a weeks worth of the average man's wages. The lady was not a bit stiff or stand offish riding so closely to traveling companions with obviously lower stations in life than her own. The boy squirming and wiggling at her side wore knickers that looked to be brand new. From his size, Mary guessed it would be many years before he wore his first trousers. His light blonde hair, shining with red highlights, was clipped and combed and slicked down, and a profusion of freckles marched across his nose. With the sights and sounds of the city falling away behind them, the youngster kept clambering onto the woman's lap to poke his head out the window. In turn, the woman kept pulling him back inside the coach. Mary wondered at her patience with the child.
The remaining three seats were occupied by clean shaven men of varying ages dressed in store bought suits. With their starched white collars and black derbies, Mary figured them all for drummers, on the road to sell their wares. How different their lives must be, she thought, blushing modestly and quickly looking away when her eyes accidentally met those of the youngest of the three.
The city was left behind very quickly. The dust of its streets was traded for the dust of sand, the stage now bouncing along a well traveled route through sage and scrub brush. Having already tired of hanging out the window, the young boy kept attempting to sit on the floor tangled in the several feet of the passengers.
"Jonathon Hewett Masters, get yourself up off the floor."
"He's not bothering me, Mam," Mary assured her.
"He may not be bothering you, but he is bothering me." The woman pulled a lace hanky from inside the cuff of her dress and dabbed daintily at her forehead. As Jonathon slid from his seat once again, she grabbed his shoulder and hauled him back up. "Traveling with young ones is not particularly easy," she addressed herself to Mary. With a smile, she sighed. "He seems to know just how much he can get away with before I loose my temper."
Mary was pleased to have some conversation to break up the monotony of the trip. "He appears to be quite well behaved on the whole, Mrs. Masters."
"Oh my. I'm not the Missus. The name is Sarah. I'm just his companion, taking him to his Mum and Da. They left him behind with Mrs. Masters' sister when they moved out to San Fernando. Wanted to get the house all set up and ready, rather than have an active six year old underfoot. No, no. My children are all having their own." A light laugh escaped her. Then, once again, she was pulling the child back onto his seat.
The trip seemed to go much faster now that Mary had someone to talk to. In a little over an hour after leaving the city the stage made the first of many stops. The horses were exchanged for a fresh team and the passengers were given a moment to stretch, then the stage moved on.
The stops continued throughout the day as the stagecoach traveled to the west of and passed the mountains in a long arc. The coach was crossing a valley, now heading toward another, taller, more impressive range. Mary appreciated the frequent opportunities to walk off some of the ache she found growing in her back.
At the stop closest to the San Fernando Mission, Sarah and Jonathon got off the stage. Unless another passenger got on somewhere ahead the seating would be more comfortable, but without the woman and boy Mary found herself traveling alone with three strange men. Unlike Jonathon, she had no chaperone, no traveling companion. When the passengers climbed back aboard the stage, the drummer who had been sitting beside Mary took a seat across from her, giving her more room. If she had no one to talk to now, at least she could travel for awhile without being self-conscious of her elbows inadvertently touching a stranger at each bounce of the coach. Despite a high probability to the contrary, the driver seemed determined to hit every bump along the roadway. Not only her back ached, but her hips and shoulders were taking their share of knocks.
At the very next stop the driver stepped down from his seat atop the stage and pulled open the coach door. "We'll be layin' over here, folks. Dinner fixin's should be a waitin' us inside. And McCurty's wife is a mighty fine cook, but she don't take to havin' her eats go cold, so get yourselves inside," he rasped. As Mary stepped down out of the coach, she rubbed at her back. The stagecoach driver continued his directions. "There's a bed in the back room fer the young lady," the driver stopped and spat a wad of chew into the dust, "and you gents can sleep on the benches in the dining room. Breakfast will be on the table at four in the morning. We get to movin' soon as there's light to see the roadway."
Mary wasn't the only one suffering from a battered body. The drummers were all bending and stretching as well. The four passengers fairly stumbled across the yard between the stables and a small wooden building, little more than a crude shack, that served as a relay station.
The door was open and Mary stepped directly into the lantern lit interior. A small, thin woman in clothes themselves worn thin was busy setting a long wooden slab that served as a table. There were two wooden trestle benches, one on either side. A large tureen of stew from which bowls were filled set at one end of the table. It was mostly potatoes, a piece or two of carrot, and chunks of onion floating in a thick brown gravy. Fresh bread lay sliced and still steaming hot in two cloth lined baskets. Mary had been too excited about the start of her adventure to even think of eating that morning. Now she was more exhausted than anything else and although the stew looked poor, it smelled tasty. Hungry as she was, her stomach welcomed the warmth and flavor of food. It did indeed fill the hole in a person's middle, just like the drummer sitting to Mary's left said.
Having finished her meal, Mary began gathering the plates from the table. Mrs. McCurty shooed her away and Mary quietly laughed at herself. How many times over the last two years had she heard Miss Hamish say, "No one waits on orphans." She pushed back a lock of hair fallen from her temple and thanked Mrs. McCurty for the meal, then wearily found her bed. Sleep arrived almost immediately.
The night passed much too quickly. Mary slept lightly in the strange bed and was up and dressing even before Mrs. McCurty rapped on the door. A white ceramic wash basin was furnished with strong lye soap and a clean hand towel. She shamed herself for having been so travel weary that she climbed under her blankets without washing up the night before. Sleep still clinging to the corners of her mind, the cold water splashed over her face did help to wake her this morning.
Breakfast was a tough beef steak and a plate brimming over with hot biscuits. Mary, a more experienced traveler now, knew there would be nothing to eat until evening, so she put away the tough meat just as the drummers did. All the passengers, as well as the driver and shotgun guard, helped themselves to a second steaming mug of Mrs. McCurty's thick brewed coffee. After that, Mary finally felt fully awake.
The second day of Mary's trip seemed to drag by. Being a proper lady, and unchaperoned, Mary discouraged any conversation the drummers directed her way. Of course, that didn't keep her from listening. Unfortunately, when she tired of their attempts to outdo each other with their traveling salesmen's tales, the constant jostling of the coach did not allow her to nap and help make up for her light sleep the night before.
They were passing through the San Gabriel Mountains and the roadway was still muddy from the last rain. That kept the dust to a minimum, but it also meant the way was well rutted. First the team strained against steep up-grades. Then on the down-slopes, the driver's foot tramped down on the brake the entire way to keep the coach from running over his six horses. The coach bounced and jolted, swayed and groaned. To travel the same number of miles between relay stations as yesterday, it took nearly four hours instead of an hour or so. Despite the long, tiring ride they covered only thirty miles. That night they stayed in Gorman where each traveler had a bed.
The next day the route wound down the sides of a steep canyon. From the drummers' discussion of the arts of wine, Mary learned of the delicious wild grapes growing in profusion in the canyon for which The Grapevine was named. Once brought to her attention, she noticed the tangled growth of bare, wintering vines here and there along their way. She also noted there was more water on this side of the mountains. On the way to the bottom of the switch backed grade the stagecoach passed two springs surrounded by sprigs of young grass. Once again the grade of the roadway was so severe the driver was forced to use his foot brake all the way down. The dangers of the wagon trace, steep and twisting as it was, were brought no more sharply to Mary's attention than when she spotted the broken remains of a stagecoach laying a hundred feet or more below on a small table of land along the side of the slope. For a while she found she breathed better keeping her eyes inside the coach and off the treacherous road.
Maddie
- 20.02.2020
- 7
- 0
Harding HouseChapter 8
- 4 years ago
- 17
- 0
Harding HouseChapter 6 Meeting the Family
- 2 years ago
- 20
- 0
