The Major's Wife Read online

  He looked so pitiful that Lucretia felt her heart melt. She slid over to him and welcomed his arms with a long, deep kiss. She whispered, “I promise to do nothing like that again. I forgive you and beg you forgive me. I love you, too.” Deep in her heart, she wondered if it was true.

  The next hour was pleasant for all. The newlyweds held hands and whispered love words while the older couple finally arrived at the first-name basis of their relationship. The plains were desolate in the winter sun, in a cruel but wonderful way. Liz pointed out a fox ahead and moved slightly closer to her companion. They spotted some rabbits, a pair of wolves in the distance, and some deer who regarded them with disinterest. When their breath turned visible, Michael turned back to the fort, taking a shorter route.

  To the west, they spotted a group of carrion feeding. Without a word, Sergeant O’Brian urged the horses into a run, stopping several yards away. The buzzards made their displeasure known as the two men ran to the remains. They both removed their hats and knelt to examine what they found. Lulu climbed down from the wagon and followed them. Jeffrey turned to stop her from coming, but not before she saw what they did not want her to see.

  Chapter 31

  The remains were of a man badly damaged by the carrion. Jeffrey pulled Lucretia’s face to his chest to block her view, but she struggled away. She approached the body of the man, seeing that he had no hair on his head, only a bloodstained skull. “Is this what a scalped person looks like? The poor man! Dead is bad enough, but all the worms and bugs… God has strange ways of making us feel useless and small. Not much left of him to identify, but does he have anything in his pockets?”

  Her calm voice broke their shock. She sounded much as if she might be discussing a past tea party or a book she had read, but one look at her face told otherwise. She was white as the proverbial ghost. She shook, but stood firmly as Michael stooped to search the pockets. He dropped his finding on the frozen grass, finally rising.

  Liz took the reins and allowed the horses to move forward until even she could see the corpse. Always in command, she called out, “Here, take this blanket and wrap him up. He deserves a decent burial. We can put him under the backseat and hold our noses until he freezes solid again tonight.”

  Back at the fort, they placed the body in a coffin Frank Grogan had made when he first arrived. He mumbled something about never knowing when one might be needed. The dead man’s personal effects gave little information, other than some paper that said he had gold in an account in a St. Louis bank. It was money from the army for payment of buffalo meat. His name was James Adcock. That was all there was.

  The discovery of the body brought a pall over the fort. Work on the house stopped as the sun set. The roof was on the house and the windows in, so it was complete enough for the stove to be put in place temporarily. The men dragged the bed back inside for the night and planned to complete the house the next day.

  Once the fire was blazing, Jeffrey put buckets of water on it to warm while they ate supper. There was little conversation, as if no one felt like talking with the dead man so close. Actually, the men did not want to discuss it in front of the women, but the problem of the man’s death spoke volumes. Indians—not men who pretended to be Indians—had killed him. White men would have left no identification.

  Jeffrey carried the little bathtub with them as they returned to their warm cabin. He set it down, filled it with water just the right temperature, and took his wife in his arms. The kisses were sweet to start, but soon turned passionate. He unfastened each piece of her clothing until she stood naked in front of him. He nibbled on her nipples until they were tiny points.

  “Now, into the tub. I want you clean enough to eat, because tonight, that is what I am going to do to you.” He stripped off his clothes and dropped to his knees beside the tub. He dumped water over her head and soaped every inch of her body, head to toes. He rinsed her again. His teeth teased her breasts again as she stood to give him the bathwater.

  Now it was her turn. He quickly washed his head and face and waited for her to move the soap slowly across his chest and under his arms. She made suds to wash his neck, shoulders, and arms before returning to his body. Her hands were gentle and exciting as she moved them between his legs while bending over him.

  She soaped his hard cock until he stopped her hand. “One more minute and I will explode in your hand.” He stood and dried himself carefully, never taking his eyes off her face. “Lucretia Lucinda Sawyer, you are the most perfect wife in the world. What you did the other night…I cannot get it out of my mind.” He watched her smile slide away. “No, listen. It was wonderful. I was so amazed and shocked that my sweet virgin bride would to that. Now I am begging you to do it again.”

  She moved closer to him and placed his hands on her dangling tits. He watched her mouth and lips close in on him. Her tongue darted forward and licked the tip. He groaned and moved his hips closer to her face. This time she took his shaft by the head and ran her tongue around it, teasing him even more. He could stand it no longer and gently pressed her so that his ramrod went inside and she sucked it deeply. “Now, oh God, darling. Do not stop. Yes, more.” He jutted his hips toward her and away until the last drop of his cum shot into her waiting mouth and dripped down her chin into the water. He held her head for balance, feeling so weak that he might fall.

  She washed her face and rinsed her mouth before standing to kiss him again. He held her close, murmuring into her ear that he was going to return the favor. Lulu knew what he meant. She had seen several men do that to Ruby, who claimed it was better than an actual fuck. Even better done by a woman, Ruby said, because a female knew exactly what and where to lick and bite.

  They lay together on the bed, facing each other, kissing endlessly. She caressed his chest, pinching his nipples lightly. He liked it, he said, but moved her hand down to cup his balls. Jeffrey felt a stirring and knew it was time. He turned her over onto her back and spread her legs. He knelt between them, rubbing gently inside. When he found her clit, he bent down to take it between his lips, touching it with his tongue. He knew it was right when she lifted her hips, moaning his name and pushing his head into her. His cock hardened and throbbed.

  Lucretia had never before felt anything as wonderful as this. She writhed on the bed, crying out her explosion and then begging for more. Her clit grew larger and seemed to slide out of the tissue holding it in place. The more he sucked, the larger it got, until she reached a mountaintop where she had never before been.

  When she dropped her hips back to the bed, he slid up on her body and planted his rock-hard prick as deeply into her as he could and then began to move slowly. She wrapped her sweaty legs around his waist and met his every stroke. He cried out his climax as he jabbed into her slippery cunt. He collapsed on top of her and then rolled to the side.

  “Let me touch you again, Lulu. I want to feel my juices running out of you.” She opened her legs slightly, but it was enough for him to finger fuck her vagina and feel himself in her. When his finger brushed her button, she jumped again. He laughed as he gently rubbed her again, bringing her to another cum.

  Satisfied for the time being, they washed and climbed back into bed. She was asleep in seconds. He rose quietly and dressed. He had a meeting with his officers when the women were asleep. He smiled as he looked at her. He knew she would sleep until morning. Dear God, he thought. Thank you for such a wife.

  Chapter 32

  I know that the death of the buffalo hunter weighed more heavily on Eagle Grant than any of the others, because it placed him in a dubious situation. He did not know the circumstances that led to the murder of the man, but even without the facts, he considered it from the Indian point of view. The loss of buffalo could lead to starvation and destroy their lives. On the other hand, the army did need the meat to feed their personnel. Once the white man came into the lands of the Indian, it was only a matter of time before there would be conflicts. This was most devastating for the natives.

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nbsp; Eagle sat at his desk, as did the other officers. Sergeant O’Brian found a straight-back chair, which he leaned back against the wall. Major Sawyer asked if anyone had any ideas and at first, no one answered.

  Eagle finally broke the silence. “My best guess is that the scalping was done by members of the tribe that has a camp about five miles south. On one of my reconnaissance missions, I visited several villages within a thirty-mile radius. Those farther away from the railroad were much more prosperous than closer tribes, like the one near here, because the buffalo hunters had farther to go with their meat and pelts for transportation east. The village near us is a poor one, obviously lacking essentials like new robes and hides to repair their teepees and, most importantly, food.”

  Deke looked around the room into each face. “Major, do you want me to take a party to check out this village? I would consider it an honor, sir, if you would trust me with this mission. I have done nothing since I got here but sit behind this desk or watch the troops on parade. My wife thinks that is all there is to being a lieutenant.”

  Eagle felt he should be leading that party, but said nothing. It was right to grant the young man’s request. In his heart and head, he knew it was not the best thing for an inexperienced man who might run into hostiles, who by now did not care if the enemy was a buffalo hunter or an army officer. Still, he remained silent.

  “If you want the duty, Deke, then it is yours. Nevertheless, as you admitted yourself, you have no experience, so Sergeant O’Brian will accompany you. Before you say anything, this is no longer a request, it is now an order. Be prepared to leave at first light. Oh, yes, one other thing. You are not to engage the Indians under any circumstances.”

  Eagle finally broke his silence. “Major, may I speak?” Jeffrey nodded. “I do not think it is a good thing to forbid engagements if the company is attacked, and that seems like a real possibility. The death of the man out there and the stealing of his supplies, including his gun and ammunition, will not be the last. It is the beginning.”

  “Captain, I understand your thinking, but I will not rescind that part of my orders. Fighting will only encourage more bloodshed and that is what we must stop before it advances. Now, good night, gentlemen.” He rose and the meeting was over.

  Eagle caught up with the major as he crossed the compound to his new cabin, where his soft, loving wife warmed his bed. “Major, I know you have the command. But this time, sir, I think you are wrong. I know these people. I am one of them. I know how they think and what they will do. Unless your God feels especially protective of the men you are sending out, you might be sending them to their deaths.”

  Jeffrey felt mild irritation at his captain. “Yes, you made your thoughts clear, but I stand behind my orders.”

  With no further discussion, he opened the door to his cabin, leaving a frustrated Eagle outside, clenching his hands. His frustration was twofold: one was because he knew the major was wrong and the second was because the major was going to the bed of the woman Eagle wanted as much as he wanted air to breathe.

  Black Eagle was fourteen when he claimed his first scalp. His tribe was a peaceful group most of the time, but if forced into battle, they were as ferocious and relentless as the worst killing tribes. A wandering group of renegade Apache from the south was plundering their way across the plains. They stole, raped, killed, and burned their way from village to village.

  Scouts looking for buffalo saw them at a neighboring village in what was once a peaceful group, now a place of slaughter. The scouts raced home to report what they saw.

  What happened before would not happen again. Once the hunters left the village unguarded and a rogue band attacked it, killing everyone but small children and young women. The women were used, as women always are by ruthless men. Those who survived, if any did, along with the children, would be sold into slavery. The hunters returned to find a burnt village; they hunted down the marauders, and life went on, but the memories never faded.

  Instead of waiting for the Apache to find them, his people armed themselves and set out to surprise their enemy. It was a great success. It was Black Eagle’s first coup. He had used his knife as if he had taken scalps for years to take the hair of the man he killed. He waved it in the air, as did the others, shouting their chants and thanks to their gods. No Apache survived the surprise attack and only one of Black Eagle’s tribe died.

  Now, standing in the center of the fort, he remembered the horror and excitement of that first battle. He had experienced bloodlust for the first time then. The sounds of the killing and cries of the wounded rang in his ears as if it were yesterday. Only this time, it was his first people who would kill his present people.

  Chapter 33

  Three mornings after the party left led by Lieutenant Carter, Liz did not come out of her tiny cabin as usual. Her voice was weak when Lucretia knocked. “What is wrong, Auntie? You are so pale.”

  “Oh, honey, I hurt fiercely. Here.” She indicated her right side. Lucretia felt the spot and Liz cried out in pain.

  “That is where I hurt when I was little. Remember? It was my appendix and you took me to the hospital where they cut me open and took it out. Oh, dear God, if it is your appendix, what shall we do?”

  Lucretia ran outside, calling Jeffrey’s name. He came running, as did several other men. “I think Auntie Liz has a bad appendix. Come, see for yourself.” He did as bade. He suspected she was right. There was no doctor for hundreds of miles. He sent for Greta, who agreed.

  Lulu could not conceive of life without Liz, who took in the orphan child after her parents drowned in a boating accident on the Mississippi River when Lulu was only six years old. Liz loved the child and had raised her as her own. Lulu had helped to fill a void in the life of the newly widowed woman. Their relationship was as mother and daughter. It was a bond that only death would break. Now she might lose the woman who had been her mother.

  After a few minutes, Captain Eagle Grant stepped into the cabin. Without a word, he stepped to Liz’s side and felt the swelling himself. This time he looked directly at Lucretia and said, “Yes, her appendix has exploded inside her and she will die if we do not take it out.”

  Lucretia’s voice was so low, it was hard to hear. “How? We have no doctor. Is there a doctor in Cottonwood Creek? Do we have time to get her there?”

  “No—to both questions. Her only hope is to have it out of there immediately.”

  Jeffrey asked, “Eagle, can you do it?”

  “Major, I never have done it, but I have watched it done. Perhaps someone else…”

  Liz spoke for the first time. Her pain caused her state of mind to haze in and out, but she understood some of what was said. “Captain. Please, you do it. I trust you. Please hurry, because I do not know how long I can stand this. Otherwise, someone put a gun to my head.”

  Eagle took her hand. “If that is what you want, I will try, Mrs. Harold. I cannot promise I can do it right, and you might die under my knife.” Liz squeezed his hand and nodded her understanding. “I will need water—lots of hot water—and some whiskey. Give her as much of the whiskey as you can get down her. It will help deaden the pain. Get clean rags and a couple of bowls.

  “You”—he pointed to Greta—“will have to help me.”

  “Not me, Captain. I faint from the sight of blood unless it is some hog, steer, or chicken heading for my frying pan.”

  “Then you.” He nodded to Lucretia. “And you will not faint, do you understand? None of those wimpy lady things. You will do what I tell you, when I tell you.”

  “Now, wait a minute, Captain, you will not talk to my wife like…”

  Lucretia touched his hand. “It is fine, Jeffrey. What is important is that we try to save Liz. All right, Captain, let us do it.”

  The whiskey worked its miracles on Liz, sending her into a stupor only a lifelong teetotaler would succumb to. Eagle spoke. “Now, everybody out but Mrs. Sawyer and Corporal Dryer. Jed, you will hold the lantern as close as you can withou
t getting in my way.” Jeffrey opened his mouth to object, but said nothing. He knew it was best for him to leave with the others.

  “Here we go. Mrs. Sawyer, help me remove her garment. I want her lower body completely exposed. We will then wash her with soap and water, several times. I learned this at the Academy, as I am sure your husband did as well. We learned to do some field surgery when no medics were there.

  “Call her name. If she does not respond to you, she is probably unconscious.” Lucretia did as instructed and Liz remained silent. “Good, are you both ready? Mrs. Sawyer, there will be a lot of blood when I cut, so be ready to catch as much as you can with the cloth and squeeze it out in this bowl, and then do it again and again.”

  Blood welled up from the incision he made on Liz’s torso. “Damn it, Mrs. Sawyer, faster. I cannot see with all the blood.” Jed held the lantern with one hand and used the other to soak up the blood until Eagle had packed the opening with as many rags as he could. “There it is. Now, when I cut it out, Mrs. Sawyer, do you think you can put a bowl under it so it does not drip back into the cut? Can you do that?”

  “Damn it, yourself, Captain. There is no need for your sarcasm and snide remarks. Unless you had a doctor or nurse here, I doubt that anyone could do better.” Her voice was soft, but emphatic enough that he lifted his eyes to hers for a moment, surprised again by her iron will. Jed chuckled under his breath, but it was enough to draw a dirty look from Eagle.

  They continued with no further conversation. The infected gland removed, Eagle carefully removed the bloody rags and rinsed the wound with clean water before he stitched it closed. He sighed with relief when the last stitch seemed tight enough to satisfy him before looking up, first at Jed and then at Lucretia. “You both did well and can be proud of yourselves. I have seen full-grown men faint away and vomit at less. Now, let us wash our patient and ourselves. Mrs. Sawyer, can you find something clean to dress her in? Jed, a clean blanket or two. I will lift her and you replace the bloody ones.”