Ada's Secret Page 15

  The stationmaster was busy supervising the men as they unloaded all of the animals into the livestock pens. He motioned toward the sheep as he spoke to Frank and me, “These pens aren’t built to hold a flock this size. You need to get them out as soon as possible.”

  “My husband will be in on the afternoon train,” I told the man.

  “Well, I guess it will be alright. These pens are old, but I think they will hold the sheep for a few hours. Just be sure you get them out of here today,” the stationmaster reiterated as he examined the walls of the stock pens.

  “What do you want to do, Ada?” asked Frank.

  “I think we have time to get Mother settled into the hotel. She will be staying there tonight. It will be more comfortable than the ranch. Once I get the ranch cleaned up she can stay with us,” I told Frank. “The banker, Tom Smithson, has houses for her to look at tomorrow. She plans to find a nice house here in town.”

  “Frank, can you stay for dinner?” Mother asked as we headed to the hotel.

  “Grace and I didn’t know which train you would be arriving on, so she isn’t expecting me home until later. I would love to accompany two fine ladies to supper.” Frank smiled, I knew he was thinking of Mary Sampson’s homemade apple pies. Mary made the best pies in town, and she made them exclusively for the hotel’s customers.

  The hotel was next to the station. After getting Mother settled into a room and storing my bags, we went downstairs for dinner. We were halfway through a delicious pot roast, with creamed corn and biscuits when the stationmaster rushed in winded and wild-eyed.

  “You gotta come quick. The stock pens broke, and the sheep are on the tracks. Your hired men are trying to get them rounded up, but there are too many of them. Mike McCall said we can use his pasture, but the afternoon train is due in half an hour, and I am afraid it won’t be able to stop before it hits them!”

  Mother and I looked at each other in horror.

  “Dungarees!” we both shouted as we raced for her hotel room. Quickly, we shed skirts and petticoats, and donned our dungarees and boots. Within minutes, we were guiding frightened animals into the safety of Mike’s pasture.

  At first the men stood and stared in awe as Mother and I worked the sheep.

  “The train!” yelled the stationmaster, pointing to smoke coming from the heavy locomotive as it came into view.

  “Get those animals off of the tracks!” shouted the stationmaster. From then on, it didn’t matter whether help came from men in dungarees or women in dungarees. Everyone joined the effort.

  The train’s engineer had started his usual routine to slow the heavy locomotive for its appointed stop. One of the railway men ran down the tracks, waving a red flag to signal the engineer to stop before it killed the animals.

  Suddenly, seeing the waving flag, the engineer screamed to his assistant, “Something’s wrong. Stop the train!” Sparks flew from the wheels as he applied the brakes, but the train’s momentum caused the locomotive to careen forward toward the sheep.

  “Mother!” I yelled over the shrieking of steel as the engineer continued to tighten the brakes. “Watch out!” My words were swallowed by the turbulent sounds of the monstrous machine. Mother looked up as she headed to rescue the last animal from the tracks. But knowing that she couldn’t get there in time, she left the animal to its fate. The animal, frozen from fear, let out a terrified bleat as the train ground to a halt inches from it. With the locomotive now stopped, the ewe headed to the safety of the pasture.

  ***

  Patrick woke with a jolt as the train suddenly decelerated and sent passengers and luggage scattering across the aisles. Inside the train, the noise was earsplitting as steel brakes resisted the massive force of the engines.

  What in God’s name is happening out there? Patrick wondered as he looked out of the window and watched men chasing sheep away from the railroad tracks.

  I’ve never seen so many sheep in Fort Collins, he thought. Glad those men got those sheep off the tracks before they got hit. Wait. Something is funny about two of those men. They have long hair like women.

  The train pulled to a safe stop, and Patrick, confused from what he thought he had seen, stepped onto the weathered platform. Are women herding sheep now? What will happen next? Women voting? He shook his head as he chuckled at the bizarre thought.

  Everyone who had been herding the sheep was nowhere to be seen, and the flock was now safely munching on early spring grass inside a nearby pasture.

  “I hope Frank remembered to come pick me up today,” Patrick said quietly as he looked for Frank’s wagon. “It will be a long walk if he didn’t.”

  Frank was the first to see Patrick standing on the platform. Rushing up, he grabbed Patrick’s hand and pumped it excitedly.

  “Ada didn’t meet me in Denver,” Patrick said disconsolately, turning to walk down the length of the platform.

  “I know. I know. Come on,” Frank laughed. Confused, Patrick looked at his friend’s face, wondering if Frank had heard him. As he walked on, Patrick hung his head dejected, fixing his gaze on the worn boards of the platform.

  ***

  Mother and I were at the end of the platform searching the crowds of passengers getting off the train. I was beginning to wonder if he had come, and my hopes were beginning to fade.

  Still chuckling, Frank steered Patrick to where I was standing. A pair of boots caught his downward look, and he followed them up to the dirty dungarees. His eyes moving upward traveled to the blouse where his misery changed to disbelief, and finally elation as he looked into my tear filled eyes.

  Reaching out and touching his face, I said, “Hi, honey. I’m home.”

  He embraced me in his arms and kissed me. I met his kiss with equal passion, and the men on the platform all turned their backs in embarrassment as they gave Patrick and me a moment of privacy.

  “Why am I not surprised by the dungarees?” he chuckled as he stepped back from our embrace. “Why are you wearing them in town?” His voice trailed off as he tried to understand the situation and figure out if his wife was herding sheep, or if he had just imagined it.

  “I have a few surprises,” I said as I stepped away to reveal his mother, who had been standing discreetly behind me. Patrick looked disoriented and extended his hand in greeting.

  “Patrick,” his mother said, “don’t you remember me?” Patrick was temporarily paralyzed by the surprise of recognizing his mother. His shock was amplified by seeing her in dungarees.

  He looked from me to his mother, then back again, and then viewed Frank’s grinning face. He stopped to catch his breath as he stared at the three of us. Then a loud whoop of joy escaped his throat.

  “We’re not done yet,” I said as I took his hand and turned him to face the three hundred head of sheep grazing in the barbed wire pasture.

  Puzzled, he shook his head. “They are all yours, dear,” his mother said. “Three hundred head of the best Vermont sheep, and most of the ewes are already pregnant. I understand you have a very large pasture, and I’m pretty sure you are going to need it.”

  Anxious to get things moving and unable to contain his excitement, Frank yelled out, “Daylight won’t last much longer, and we have to get home tonight! You will have plenty of time to gawk later, but we gotta get on the road!” Frank jumped from the platform to the ground and opened the pasture gate as Mother brought the feed can out and enticed Duke to lead the flock out onto the road.

  Frank drove the wagon slowly as I sat in the back and shook Duke’s feed can until the flock fell in line behind him. The hired hands kept the strays from wandering too far. Mother waved as she turned off at the hotel and headed for a hot bath and a good night’s sleep.

  As Patrick walked, he continued to glance back and forth from me to Frank to the sheep, all the while shaking his head in puzzlement. Finally, he climbed into the wagon beside me. “I still don’t know what is going on, but if this is a dream, please don’t wake me.” Gently he took Duke’s feed can f
rom me and began luring the big ram to follow the wagon. “What’s next?” he asked.

  “Patrick, your mom is here because your dad died, and she had nowhere to go. She asked me to help, so I went out to Vermont and arranged the sale of the farm. I’m sorry that this is all so sudden. I know that you and your dad did not get along, but he was very remorseful at the end that he had treated you so badly. He realized that he hurt those that he loved most because of something they had no reason to be punished for. I know this is hitting you all at once, but we’ll sort this out. For now, your Mother is staying in town tonight, and Tom will bring her out to the ranch tomorrow. She has enough money from the sale of her ranch that she’ll have her pick of some very nice houses in town. Tom said he would be happy to help her get settled.”

  “This is a lot to take in all at once. I’m glad that my mom decided to come. It sounds like living here will be good for her, but what about us? I don’t deserve you, and now you’ve taken care of all of my responsibilities. How can I ever make this up to you?” Patrick hung his head.

  “Don’t worry about that right now,” I teased. “I’ll think of something.” Patrick remained serious, and didn’t respond to my attempt to relieve the tension.

  It was dark when we got to the ranch and turned the sheep into the pasture. Frank shook Patrick’s hand again, telling him how happy he was to have his friend back. Waving goodbye, he turned Champ onto the road and headed home. The hired men found the barn much to their liking, and within minutes they were bedded down in the warm, sweet hay.

  Frank had brought Sheba and Buttercup back to the barn before he came to town, and the animals were very happy to see Patrick and me as we filled their water troughs and gave them fresh hay.

  Patrick had retrieved my valise from the wagon before Frank left and set it beside our bed. Everyone was gone and we were finally alone. I stepped into his strong arms and looked up into his face begging for the kisses I had been longing for.

  Hastily, he pulled my arms away from his neck and turned, saying, “You can sleep here tonight. I will toss a bed roll in the parlor.”

  I couldn’t believe what I had heard. “You’re not going to sleep with me in our bed tonight? What’s wrong? Are you OK?” I enquired. He stopped and started to say something, but the words were lost. Shaking his head, he started to walk back to the parlor.

  Patrick was calm and almost serene. I could see that he was a bit stunned by everything, and I couldn’t blame him. This morning he didn’t know if he would have his wife back, and now he had a wife, a mother, and a whole pasture full of sheep at his cattle ranch.

  “I’m just a bit overwhelmed. Please, don’t get me wrong,” he said as he faced me. “I’ve had to change my whole conception about women. I’ve been wrong about you, and I never want to take you for granted again.

  “I have a lot to make up for and will do anything to keep you,” he said as he held my shoulders intensely. Desire surged through me, but he released me as he felt his own passions awakening. He looked pained and quickly walked away.

  I stepped in front of him, cutting off his escape. I tried to enfold myself in his arms, but instead of taking me, he dropped them helplessly to his sides and stepped back. His eyes were so full of confusion. I stepped closer to him, but he edged away with his head bowed.

  “Patrick,” I said softly, “what is wrong? It’s not like this is our first time together.”

  He fell to one knee at my feet as he took my hand. “When you went back to Denver with your family, I realized how important you are in my life. I begged God for a second chance, and I promise I will never do anything to hurt you again.”

  “Why do you think you would hurt me if you make love to me?” I asked as I knelt down and looked into his smoky, pain-filled eyes.

  He turned his head in embarrassment as he said, “I have heard men talk. They say that it’s a wife’s duty to give her husband pleasure. A husband must make sure a woman knows her place and that she is obligated to fulfill his needs. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to force anything, myself included, on you.”

  I knew he was deadly serious, and was not trying to be funny, but I heard myself start to laugh and I couldn’t stop it.

  “Men talking!” I said as I managed to control my laughter and finally understood the problem. “If you listen to most men talking you’ll get the wrong idea about a lot of things,” I said as I sat down beside him. “I think we need to talk about sex and lovemaking.

  “You and I were raised very differently, and I can understand why you think women don’t like making love. Your mother told me that Scottish men were raised to keep their feelings of affection private. Your father believed that showing affection was admitting weakness. Mother confided that your father wouldn’t even hold her hand except in the bedroom.

  “As you know, my family has a much different idea about sex. Sex is stock and trade for them, and Ma was always honest with me about what was happening between the men and women upstairs. She said that sex was not a bad thing, but that a loving marriage is what turns sex into lovemaking. I think the men you talked to haven’t learned the most essential thing in a happy marriage; it includes a good sex life. They don’t understand; women want to make love to their husbands. The men you talked to only consider themselves. They ignore the fact that if a man isn’t intent in pleasing his wife, she won’t be attentive in doing her duty. I know you love me and are ready to please me in every way. Please make love to me knowing this is not my duty, but my privilege.”

  Patrick looked into my eyes, and the pain disappeared as he gently kissed my waiting lips. “I think it will take a lifetime to understand you, and I look forward to an existence of pleasing you in every way.”

  I stood, pulling Patrick into my arms. I drew my lower body into his groin and circled my hips so that I knew I’d hit the target. “How ya doing, honey? I know this isn’t your first time,” I whispered into his ear.

  I placed his hand on my breast and drew a sharp breath as his hand reflexively cupped its fullness through my blouse. His eyes glittered with excitement as he responded to my movements. “Yes, ma’am! And it wont be the last either!” Patrick escorted me to the bedroom.

  Taking off my blouse, I unfastened and removed my dungarees. Patrick assisted in the removal of my other garments as I sat on the side of the bed. Quickly, he stripped his shirt off as I looked at his handsome body. The soft dark hair over his chest drew my attention to his well-developed shoulders, and down his rippling abs.

  “Now take off the best part and let me see your whole magnificence,” I requested.

  At first, he was a bit self-conscious, but as we made eye contact, he was reassured that I wanted him as much as he wanted me.

  I pulled him to me so he faced me while I sat on the side of the bed, my hands exploring the chest and abdomen of my adoring husband. His manhood throbbed against my breasts as I savored his musky, masculine scent.

  I kissed his taut abdominal muscles, moving down, until his dark curly hair brushed my lips. His breathing increased as I kissed the most sensitive areas. He gasped with pleasure as my fingers enclosed his sensitive member and stroked it gently yet firmly.

  “I’ve been so long without you,” he whispered. “I can’t hold myself back if you keep doing that ... ” He groaned as I continued stroking and kissing his sensitive organ.

  He slowly pulled away from me, then tenderly pressed me back on the soft pillows. His tongue started lightly at my lips, then delved deeply into my mouth as we passionately devoured each other, inflaming our lust. His fingers entwined in my hair as he pulled me close and whispered, “I love you.” His kisses moved down my neck and towards my breasts, where he flicked his tongue against my nipples.

  I moaned as he continued his kisses across my stomach, moving lower to the fire between my legs. As he gently explored the sensitive folds of my womanhood with his tongue, my hips involuntarily rose to his gentle probing mouth.

  He smiled as I whimpere
d for more. Gently he introduced one finger, and brought the dew from inside me to the silky lining of my nerve bundle. Then he drew two fingers inside, and opened me until I pulled him and his stunning manhood, deep inside me.

  The sensation overwhelmed me, and I felt pure pleasure as his movements fueled my desire. He started gently, slowly, pulling back and gliding forward. His member swelled and hardened. His movements became thrusts, driving deeper as I welcomed him. Our rhythms merged, his thrusts in harmony with my own fervent lunges.

  A throbbing tingle arose and increased in intensity, swelling through my excited passageway. Ecstasy traveled up through my abdomen and my breasts, making each nipple stand erect. The fevered sensation consumed me, the elation finally finding release as an audible moan of satisfaction from my lips. I continued matching his thrusts, until I felt his body ripple in orgasm and his hot seed fill me.

  We lay united, as only a man and his wife can, our longing for each other quenched. I felt his member withdraw from my delicate passage, and the pulse of our hearts wed as our breathlessness returned to calm breathing. Lying next to Patrick, I knew that I would never be happier. I was filled with contentment and absolute adoration as I looked at my husband.

  Quietly, he turned to me. “Well, Mrs. Burgess how do you feel about that?”

  “Not bad, Mr. Burgess. I think I’ll make it until morning, but I warn you—I am an early riser and we have lots to catch up on.”

  Patrick slept as I listened to a new sound on our ranch, the gentle bleating of sheep. My husband now understood my secret, a secret that only had power over me for as long as I’d kept it. Now that I’d finally shared it and Patrick had opened up his mind and heart, my secret had become my strength.

  Epilogue

  “OK, honey. One more push and it will be over.” I listened to the husky voice of the midwife as I took another deep breath and forced it through my laboring body. A strangled scream trailed from my throat, ending in a heavy grunt. The baby slipped from the protective womb that had been its home for the last nine months and into the cold bright world and the waiting hands of the midwife.