AN: I really enjoyed you guys yelling at me to post. Here it is! What you've all been waiting for.
:)
And again, a big THANK YOU, to "GeezerWench" prereader/creative consultant extraordinaire!
I hope everyone has a wonderful, safe, delightful, holiday. If you aren't American, and aren't having Thanksgiving tomorrow, please feel free to buy a pie and eat it anyway. My favorites are sweet potato and pecan.
Happyghost love!
As Peter neared the stage station, it became abundantly clear why the old man had warned against him bringing his wife. There were raucous and rowdy groups of men gambling, drinking, and smoking fat cigars, lounging on blankets and sitting on old crates, turning the whole place into a makeshift saloon.
It was twilight, but the men had plenty of lanterns set amongst the card players, illuminating the games. It was obvious that they would continue to gamble well into the night.
"Well, if it isn't the Texan Reverend. What are you doing here, in the midst of all this debauchery?"
Peter pushed a heavy breath of air through his nose, as he turned to find that damn Yankee, Garrett, grinning toothily at him.
Peter was already in a foul mood, and feeling obliged to explain things to Garrett just made everything seem worse. "I'm lookin' to win back my fiddle. There was an old fella' down at the party playin' it, and he refused to sell it to me, so here I am."
Garrett scratched his scruffy cheek as the wheels turned in his head. "Must be Alistair you're looking for. He likes to keep to himself. I'll help you find him."
Reluctantly, Peter followed Garrett to the other side of the station, and there sat Alistair, apart from the main crowd, shuffling a deck of cards. He took a quick glance at the saddle, and nodded for Peter to join him.
"Mind if I join your game?" Garrett's eyebrows danced with mischief, as he removed a large gold nugget from his pocket and placed it gingerly on the blanket.
Peter didn't want to play against Garrett. He had him pegged as a cheater. Peter tried to convince Alistair against letting him in the game, but the old man wouldn't hear a word against it after he'd laid his eyes on the gold.
The cards had been dealt, and Alistair declared loudly that it was all or nothing. Peter picked up his hand, and kept a straight face, as he appraised his cards, and made his choices.
"I'll play fair with you Reverend. If I win, I'll give you another chance at the fiddle." Garrett's sly hands swept over his cards, and Peter began to sweat.
At the end of the game, everyone showed their cards, and Peter's heart sank. He had lost.
"It weren't my best fiddle, anyhow," Alistair said as he took a swig from the bottle of whiskey he had been nursing.
That fool Yankee had won it all, and he laughed heartily at his good fortune. The sound of his deep chuckles irked Peter into a simmering rage. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth, as Garrett patted his back with a heavy hand.
"Don't be such a sore loser," Garrett laughed. "I told you I'd give you another chance."
Peter huffed disgustedly.
Garrett shook his head. "You're a mean rascal, Peter, and to think, I had considered giving you the fiddle."
Peter's eyes widened in shock, he had never figured on the Yankee being so generous. "You're not serious, are ya'?"
"Well, since I can't play, I really have no use for this old thing." Garrett ran his eyes over the scratched wood of the fiddle and turned up his nose.
Just then, Jasper came barreling up the hill. There had been a break in the music down below, and all the women had gathered around the bride-to-be to drink lemonade and compliment each other. It was getting dark, and Jasper had taken the opportunity to check on his brother.
When he saw Garrett holding the fiddle and talking to Peter, his stomach dropped.
Peter however, surprisingly looked hopeful.
"I'm glad your brother showed up to hear my offer." Garrett beamed.
"Make it quick," Jasper panted. The music had started up again, and he didn't like leaving the women unattended.
Garrett pursed his lips. "I want one dance with each of your women in exchange for the fiddle."
The brothers looked at each other and busted out laughing.
"That's impossible! We'd never force our women to dance with you. Try again." Peter laughed.
"No, I'm serious. I'd want their permission. Of course, I'm not one to force a lady." Garrett's gold-flecked eyes stared down the brothers, awaiting their final answer.
"Bella doesn't dance," Jasper said.
"And Charlotte doesn't dance with Yankees." Peter crossed his arms over his broad chest and squinted in annoyance.
"Would you be opposed to letting the ladies decide for themselves?" Garrett asked.
"'Course not," Peter snorted, certain that Charlotte would rather kiss a rattler than dance with that sneaky Garrett.
"If they agree to one dance, I'll give you this fiddle," Garrett said.
The men made their way over the hilltop. The smell of burning wood permeated the air, and they noticed a huge bonfire had been built beside the hoedown, to keep the party going.
Jasper and Peter nervously looked for their women, but they were not standing beside the lemonade where Jasper had left them. The brothers started to get worried.
Just then, Charlotte danced right by them, her skirts swirling. She was in the arms of a tall and handsome fellow, who had black, slicked back hair.
Garrett laughed. "Is that your wife, Reverend? I know that man she's dancing with, he's from New York."
Before Peter could make any sort of retort, he was shocked into silence again at the sight of Bella twirling by on the arm of a well-muscled, stocky young man.
"So, Bella doesn't dance, huh?" Garrett rocked back on his heels, as he reveled in the Whitlocks' confusion.
Both Bella and Charlotte looked happy. Their eyes were bright, and they were laughing and carrying on. It was obvious that they were having a good time.
At the end of the song, the brothers descended upon the ladies and pulled them away from their dance partners. Jasper was hurt and confused that Bella had willingly danced with a stranger when she had refused his offer. He became sullen and quiet.
The women, however, were having a fit of the giggles, and when they caught sight of Garrett, it only made them laugh harder.
"What are you doin' here?" Charlotte asked as she wrapped her arms about her ribs. She could hardly breathe, she was laughing so hard.
"He says he'll give me the fiddle if you and Bella dance with him." Peter said, frowning.
"Oh, Honey, you lost the game, didn't you? I'll dance with him." Charlotte decided.
"Me, too," Bella agreed, nodding vigorously.
Jasper became angry and put his foot down. "Not before I do!" He wrapped his strong arm around her shoulder and pulled her into the dance.
Bella had no choice but to follow behind.
Garrett extended his hand to Charlotte, and she gave him a quick curtsy.
"If your sneaky Yankee hands cross over my wife's Mason-Dixon Line, I swear I'll shoot off all yer fingers, one by one." Peter warned.
Garrett handed Peter the fiddle, and tipped his hat. "I'll take good care of her, Reverend."
Even though he held his long lost fiddle, Peter couldn't bring himself to play. He was so keyed up and aggravated watching his wife dancing with that no good sly fox, he kept his eyes glued to the pair, making sure that Garrett behaved as a gentleman the whole time.
Jasper had pulled Bella close to him, and never wanted to let her go. It didn't take him long to figure out why she was acting so strangely. She had been drinking—he could smell the alcohol on her breath.
It made Jasper feel like a cad, but he found himself wanting to taste the flavor from her lips.
She was still wearing his jacket, and she was staring at him with those dark, brown, innocent eyes. Her face was flushed from dancing, or maybe from the liquor, or the heat of the bonfire. It didn't matter—she was beautiful.
"I love dancing with you," Bella sighed. "I should have said yes the first time you asked."
The pain of her previous rejection and his anger slipped away from Jasper's face at her admission. "I don't want you to dance with anyone else." He spoke softly into her ear. Her body reacted favorably to the caress of his soft breath, and she inadvertently pressed her chest against him as they moved to the music.
The song ended much too soon for Jasper's liking, and he decided to keep Bella for another dance. "Dance with me again. It's gonna kill me to have to let you go."
She was running her soft hand over his callused fingers and it felt divine. "Then don't let go," she whispered.
Every once in a while, Jasper and Bella would dance near the area where Peter, Charlotte, and Garrett stood waiting.
Jasper could tell that his brother expected him to hand Bella over to Garrett eventually, but it went against his better judgment. He regretted agreeing to it, but he was a man of his word, if nothing else.
At the end of the song, he led Bella over to Garrett, and stared him down with a cold look. "We'll be watchin' to make sure you act appropriately."
Garrett held up his hands in mock surrender. "I promise. Just a dance. Nothing more."
As he led her away, Jasper began to question Charlotte about Garrett's behavior.
She didn't understand what all the fuss was about. When she had danced with Garrett, he had been a proper gentleman. Charlotte tried to calm Jasper's nerves by reassuring him, but he seemed to be vibrating in place while watching Bella and Garrett's every move.
A few times, Peter had to hold Jasper back from attacking Bella's dance partner, and he hadn't done anything scandalous; he had just made her laugh.
It was such an innocent thing, but it pained Jasper so. He didn't want her to enjoy any man's company but his own.
Garrett was having a fine time dancing with Bella. She was probably the worst dancer he'd ever been paired with, but he wasn't concerned about her two left feet. The real reason he had wanted to dance with her was to have a chance to talk with her in private, away from the prying ears of the Whitlocks.
He joked with her to set her at ease, before he decided to ask her his questions. "So Bella, are you romantically attached to any man?"
Garrett spun Bella in a circle, adding to her already slight dizziness, and when she turned to face him, she answered. "No."
"Good," Garrett replied. "Follow my lead."
Bella focused intently on following Garrett's long stride, as he led her to the edge of the dancing couples on the other side of the bonfire.
He wanted to make sure she would hear him clearly over the music. "I was wondering if you might be persuaded to come with me. I need a wife, and I think you'd make a fine one. I know it's not very romantic, but it's practical. I have the means to take good care of you, and you'd never want for anything. Bella, would you be my wife?"
Bella almost tripped over the rough ground as the question flowed from Garrett's lips. She couldn't believe her ears. She lifted her head, and stared up at him, wide-eyed in surprise.
After a moment, she realized that he was serious and was waiting for her to answer.
"No, Garrett. I don't want to get married." Her eyebrows pressed together, and she dropped her gaze.
"If it's marriage you're against, that could wait. Come with me, Bella. I'll wait for you."
"No. I … I've made other commitments." She brought her hand to her forehead, trying to halt the whirling in her head.
Sadly, Garrett accepted his defeat. The music soon ended and he released her.
Although, the dancing had stopped, Bella felt as though she was still spinning. She closed her eyes, willing the movement to stop.
Suddenly, Bella felt herself being lifted from the ground and thrown over a man's strong shoulder.
She began to pound her fists across the man's back in protest, and she yelled for Jasper, or Peter, or anyone to save her.
Finally, the man set her down. It was very dark, and she wasn't sure where she was.
The man grabbed at her flailing arms and spoke her name. "Bella! Calm down."
Hearing his voice, she realized it was only Jasper.
"Oh! I didn't know it was you." Bella exhaled in relief as she covered her pounding heart with her fist.
"I didn't mean to scare you, honey, you just made me so crazy," Jasper said as he cradled her face with his hands and covered her lips with his own.
Bella had never been kissed, but she yielded to him, and her eyes fluttered closed as she felt his mouth, soft, and reverent, and wanting.
Her lips parted slightly as she kissed him back, and moved against him. Her body was suddenly aflame with feelings that she'd never experienced before, and she knocked off his hat as she spread her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer.
Jasper's lips tugged at hers, opening her mouth to his, as his tongue pushed gently inside. She tasted like sweet honey and sin, and it made Jasper wild with need.
Bella felt his warm hand run down her side and around her hip as he cupped her backside, pulling her body firmly against his growing want.
The sudden forceful movement of his thigh between her legs caused her to moan wantonly, spurring him on.
"God, Bella, do you know what you do to me?" he asked as he ran his tongue down her neck and swirled it over the fabric that covered her collar bone.
He pushed his jacket from her shoulders and it fell in a heap by her feet.
"Here I am attackin' you, and I can't help myself. I saw you laughing with that Yankee, and I couldn't stand it. He didn't touch you inappropriately, did he?"
"No," she answered shyly, tipping her head down. "I didn't like dancin' with him. I got awful dizzy."
"You're just drunk darlin'. Do you need to sit down?"
"Drunk? I thought the lemonade tasted strange, but when I asked, they said it was just that it had been made from vinegar instead of lemons."
"You're so gosh darn innocent. I can taste the liquor on your lips." Jasper moaned as his mouth captured hers in another dizzying kiss, and his body pressed tightly against hers. He felt her tongue tentatively run against his lips, and he smiled, realizing that she wanted more.
He was aching to give her more, but being a gentleman, he wouldn't take advantage of her in her state of intoxication. Somehow he managed to pull back.
Bella threw her arms around his neck, and her eyes searched his in the dark. "Charlotte said I would know. She was right," she whispered. "Kiss me again."
Jasper didn't understand what Bella meant, but she wanted him to kiss her, and he would deny her nothing.
He picked her up, supporting her weight on his arms and encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist, as his tongue plundered her sweet mouth.
Bella mimicked his movements, and their kisses became so heated she could barely remember to breath. She felt Jasper's strong fingers pressing and kneading against the tender flesh of her bottom. His frenzied caresses sent shocks of electrical pleasure straight to her very center, and she found herself rocking against him to the rhythm of his touch.
They were all but lost in their passion, until the sound of jaunty fiddling brought them crashing back to earth. The music was nearing; coming closer and closer to the wagon.
Jasper grumbled something about his fool brother, as he backed rapidly away from Bella, straightened her full skirts, and adjusted himself.
"Jasper! Are you down here?" Peter called.
"He's over here!" Bella sang out in her sudden giddiness.
Peter was in a joyous mood. He felt like playing his beloved fiddle, and he wanted an audience. "What are ya'll doin' behind the wagon? It's dark over there. Come on out and listen to me play."
AN: "Historical fact time!" On the Oregon trail, or in the times of the old west ...
People made lemonade from apple cider vinegar, sugar, and water.
Lemons were scarce.
I made some out of curiosity last night. It wasn't good, but it wasn't horrible either.
:)