All Roads Lead West Ch. 01 free porn video
He stares out across the quiet expanse of the farm. All this built with sweat and blood, not all of it his own. He took out the last letter and opened it reading it again.
Dear Hudson,
My train leaves in a week. By the time you receive this I shall be almost in Salem. How exciting it is to think we will finally meet face to face. I do hope my tintype enclosed in my previous letter was to your liking…
He folds it away and put it back in his pocket. That was a month ago and today is the day. He’d pick her up from the newspaper office and then they’d be married in the church before heading home. He almost couldn’t believe he was doing this again. Third time’s the charm. Taking off his stetson to rake his fingers back through his hair he waited outside the office. The sun was full and up with people bustling around the small town.
‘Mornin’ Hudson,’ the newspaper man says unlocking the office. ‘Waiting on a package?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Oh I see, the new Missus to arrive today is she?’ He nods wiping sweaty hands on his denims. ‘Ought to pop over to the livery to get her some flowers, some ribbon. Token of your affection you know.’ Hudson quirks an eyebrow. ‘Opens up around now and I dare say you’ve got the time,’ he says checking a pocket watch. ‘Stage won’t arrive for another hour at least.’
‘Suppose a gander will help pass the time,’ he says getting to his feet. The boards on the walk bounce and ring hollow under the heels on his boots.
A bell tings overhead as he opens the door. Instantly twenty different smells waft around him. Leather, brine, gunpowder, sugar, flowers, perfumes. Walking into Owen’s Livery and Supply was like walking into a candy store. Every shelf is crammed with tools, dishes, fabrics hanging off great rolls against one wall. Papers, pens, arts and schooling supplies. Leather belts, buckles, buttons and more clothing and denim down another aisle. From the ceiling beams hang blankets, bits of machinery, shovels and other oddities.
‘Hallo! Oh hello there Hudson, don’t expect to see you in town this time of year,’ says a short thin woman with a smile too large for her face.
‘Mrs. Owens,’ he replies tipping his hat. ‘Came to fetch a few things.’
‘Such as?’
‘My wife.’ The women puts her hand to her chest in shock. ‘Comin’ in on the stage this morning.’
‘Oh I thought for a second – nevermind. A new wife, that’s wonderful,’ she says smiling leaning across the counter. ‘The children must be pleased.’ They were actually anything but.
‘Yes ma’am.’
When he’d told them about a new mother coming they started shouting, retreated into stony silence or started crying from all the racket.
‘And where is this new wife from?’
‘Albany, New York State.’
‘My, quite far. Long way to travel.’
‘Yes ma’am.’
‘Anything in particular you were looking for Hudson?’
Dark eyes searched behind the counter. ‘Paperman said I’d be able to find flowers here.’
‘Yes, we do but they’re in the garden out back if you’ll just follow me,’ she says lifting the counter for him. ‘It was one of my ideas naturally, taking the flower seeds from back east and growing them a bit in pots here before selling them. Makes them withstand the trip better, then you can plant them in a garden at home. Any idea what kind of flower she likes?’
None. She looks back at him and laughs before opening the back door and ushering him into a small plot.
‘Over here’s the roses, just red and pink I’m afraid. And oh the morning glories over here. Have you ever seen morning glories Hudson?’
He shakes his head. ‘Oh they’re most beautiful blue and purple, a lovely vine plant for climbing up the side of a house. And these hollyhocks, such a lovely colour, like Spanish wine,’ she says holding the bloom up. ‘And just because it’s your first day meeting I’ll give you the third free for buying two.’
‘Oh Mrs. Owens-.’
‘Please I insist Hudson. ‘I’ll just dig these up for you, if you need to look around the store for anything else.’ She shoos him back into the store. He leans against the counter for a minute.
What am I doing? I never bought flowers for Mary or Elizabeth. He’s just about to tell her to never mind when she comes back. ‘Nothing else? Have you seen the new leather and fabric we got in? That new wife might want some fabric for curtain making and clothes for the children.’
By the time he escaped Hudson had been armed into buying fabric, tea for a fancy eastern wife because they surely don’t drink coffee in New York…’
Ten o’clock comes and goes and so does eleven. Hudson’s stomach starts to rumble something awful when the yapping of dogs alerted an arrival. Finally, and the first order of business will be lunch. He’d brought enough for a meal at the Salem Inn. The dust begins to kick up and he pulls his bandana up over his mouth and nose. Wagon after wagon rolls on by, likely headed for Portland or further north into Washington Territory. A few pull off onto a grassy undeveloped patch beside the postal office. Was his future bride inside one of them? More wagons pass and only a few more pull over. Taking his hat off and raking fingers back through his hair he rises and meanders over.
Most wagons contained families, children spilling hell nell out the backs and front. A few men he recognizes as bachelors or widowers hang around all of them waiting on the same thing. A woman steps out of one, then another and another. Their bonnets block their faces from view. Craning his neck Hudson tries to get a look. Nope, none of them look like her. He takes out the tintype and gives it another look over. He knows how she looks, dark hair done up, dark eyes, hint of a smile at her lips. Fairly plain but she had the qualifications he needed.
Hudson didn’t need a lover or even a companion. This was about finding someone to help on the farm and raise his children. Lord knew he’d been trying to do it with only three hired hands and his older kids long enough. He needed a cook, a stout worker and a woman that would stand by him and his family. More wagons pull up and he leans against a post watching the people unload out of them. Perhaps he should call her name? Or ask one of the other women if they’d travelled with her? Hudson takes off his hat and combs back his hair. Should have gotten it cut before meeting her.
‘Excuse me ma’am, you happen to travel here with a Lavinia?’
‘No, I can’t say I’ve heard the name,’ a blue bonneted woman says.
‘Thank you,’ he says tipping his hat.
Retreating back to his post Hudson holds the tintype in his hand keeping it ready to compare to the host of faces before him.
Maybe she hasn’t come. The thought creeps in like a drifting fog. Maybe she took the money and cashed the ticket for somewhere else. Swindled right out of his money and lord knows he wouldn’t get it back. He’d been wrong to let the ad convince him, it couldn’t be this easy, just sign up with your local newspaper for a new wife. What a load of crock. He’d wait here until dinner time and not a minute longer.
Grabbing a hunk of bread from the wagon and a lump of smoked ham he sits on the steps for a wait. He’s so lulled by the hot sun and busy activity in front of him he falls into a trance like state chin in hand. He’s startled by a gloved hand tapping him on the shoulder.
‘Excuse me but are you Mr. MacTavish?’ He takes off his hat quickly rising to his feet at the woman before him. Small and petite with hair not quite blond and not quite red.
‘I am.’ She held out a delicate white gloved hand.
‘Pleased to meet you I’m Florence Farling.’ He takes the hand and shakes it noticing it feels as a small as a child’s in his. He stands dumbstruck for a moment.
‘Did you travel here with a Lavinia Farling?’ She pulls back.
‘No, I didn’t. Didn’t you receive my letter?’
He sha
kes his head.
‘Oh dear. Lavinia died of scarlet fever before she could leave. I found her letters to you, the money and ticket so I came in her stead.’
‘You. Came,’ he repeats slowly. Oh no. Oh no, no. This was not going to work at all. This slip of a girl? She wouldn’t last a year out here. He could probably span her waist with his hands. Hudson takes off his hat and rakes his fingers through his hair. My God what have I gotten myself into?
‘Miss Farling, I think there’s been a mistake. I need a stout, strong woman to help on a farm with work, cleaning, cooking and minding children.’
‘Not to worry, my mother taught me all the duties and responsibilities of a wife Mr. MacTavish,’ she says clasping her hands in front of her.
‘Miss Farling I need a hearty woman to help me run my farm not a delicate lady used to debutantes and garden parties,’ Hudson says sweeping his hat to the side. She was pretty, he had to admit. She made something tighten in him that neither Mary nor Elizabeth had done so easily. But he couldn’t have her, no she just wouldn’t suit his purpose.
‘Excuse me Mr. Tavish but I am not some flighty delicate doll. I know how to do work,’ she says.
‘I’ll see if a carriage can be arranged to take you back to the rail line with the trail guides.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve travelled all the way out here to meet you and now you say you don’t want me!’ He can hear the anger in her voice but also the edge of tears creeping in. ‘Mr. Tavish-
‘Mac Tavish, Hudson, it’s just Hudson.’
‘Mr. MacTavish you cannot pass judgement on me without even knowing me for the span of five minutes.’
‘I can tell you’re not suited to life out here.’
‘Well you can’t send me back, I won’t go because there isn’t anything for me to go back too!’ she says resolutely folding her arms across her chest as if that solved the matter.
He cocks his head lips pressed into a tight line waiting for her to continue. She doesn’t but stands there facing him chin cocked high. Hudson sighs and puts his hat back on his head.
‘Just how old are you Miss Farling?’
‘Nineteen,’ she says haughtily.
‘Now why would a smart girl such as yourself want to drag herself all the way out here, marry someone near a decade older than you -‘
‘In your letters you said you were only twenty-seven.’
‘Be a farm wife in the backwoods raisin’ four kids?’
‘Do you need a wife or not Mr. Tavish?’
‘I need a wife alright but she won’t be the likes of you, now come on,’ he says hooking her arm and pulling her along into the newspaper office.
‘Now see here there’s been a big mistake,’ he says laying into the newspaper man.
‘Mr. Tavish you can’t send me back there, I told you I’ve got nothing to go back too!’
‘Alright, now, alright. What seems to be the problem here,’ the typist says getting to his feet the down turned mouth looking odd below the uncurled moustache.
‘I’ve been sent the wrong woman,’ Hudson says pulling her forward.
‘Really is this anyway to treat a lady! Now you see here Mr. Mr.-‘
‘Lyles,’ he supplies.
‘Mr. Lyles, My sister was taken ill and passed away a scant week before she was to leave. So I came in her stead. It was always her plan to bring me along and find me a husband out here-‘
‘She what?’ Hudson cuts in.
‘We’d scrimped and saved but didn’t have quite enough for the passage out here for two.’
‘I don’t believe this.’
‘So I would have ended up under his care anyhow, but now that Lavinia’s gone I knew it wouldn’t be proper to be under his care without being wed. I didn’t think he’d be so disappointed with me.’
‘Mr. Lyles what I advertised for was a stout, strong woman who could handle the hard work on my farm not some city socialite.’
‘Alright now alright,’ he calls above them holding up his hand.
‘Miss-‘
‘Farling.’
‘Miss Farling do you have the knowledge of housekeeping and minding children?’
‘Of course.’
‘And Mr. Tavish you’re in sore need of a wife.’
In more ways than one. His height over her gives him a view of the darkness down her bodice.’Yes sir.’
‘Well the way I see it you’re the answer to each other’s problems, but I understand the reservations. Normally in these situations we recommend a courting period where the lady remains in town and the gentleman visits her on the weekend-‘
‘I can’t be spared from the farm that often-‘
‘And I don’t have the funds for that!’
‘But since that doesn’t suit I think y’all ought to get married today,’ he says raising his voice over their protests but then give it until next spring and if it don’t work out you can always get an annulment.’
‘An annulment but that means-‘ Hudson trails off. He glances over to she Miss Farling’s cheeks a blazing pink.
‘It’s the only the two of you that can say for sure isn’t it?’ he says with a wink. ‘Besides the next waggons going back east don’t leave until next spring. So it looks like you’re stuck one way or another.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ Hudson says rooted to the spot.
‘We you better. You asked for a wife and this is the one God’s sent you, now get on over to the church,’ Mr Lyles says seating himself again.
The walk over to the church is taken in stunned silence. Florence refuses Hudson’s arm when he offers it and tries to march ahead of him. Seems God decided to give a cruel blessing. She was pretty and he desired her. Oh did he desire her. Hudson admired the way her chest expanded when she yelled at him. The red her lips turned after she bit them and pressed them together. He’d have her tonight, up against the wall then collapse on the bed to do it all over again. He could picture that long hair tumbling down her bare back as she rode him. He’d tell her all married couples did things completely nude, she wouldn’t know any different. This one he wanted to see, this one he wanted to admire.
All too soon his thoughts turn sour. She’d get sick with the fever, or get lost in the woods, be killed by a wildcat, die in childbirth. Any number of the things that could happen to a woman out here. Then it’d be all the worse when she was taken from him. Ripped right off him.
Alright, he promises himself, I’ll have her and enjoy her and ride her and cherish her for all she’s worth for now. But I won’t fall in love with her. I’ll care for her and protect and provide but I will not fall in love with Miss Florence Farling.
Arisha
- 05.09.2020
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