The Widow Finds Love (Mail Order Bride Series) (8 page)

An hour later, Clint returned to the house after completing his chores involving the livestock.  Standing in the doorway to the living room, he smiled.  His new wife was sitting on the davenport, with Rebecca in her lap and Cassie tucked in tightly by her side.  She was telling them the fairy tale about Snow White.  Rebecca had heard it many times, but Cassie had not and listened carefully. 

When the story ended, Clint said, “That is a beautiful picture, you three sitting together.”

“Mama was telling us a story about a princess and seven dwarfs,” Cassie said.  “Tell us another one.”

Sarah began, “Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Alice who was sitting with her sister beside a crick, when a white rabbit ran past.  Alice chased the white rabbit and fell into a rabbit hole.  And then…”

Clint had not heard Alice In Wonderland before, so he listened as Sarah spun the story for the girls.  She stopped, and said, “It’s time to get ready for bed girls.  I’ll tell you more about Alice another night.  Get ready for bed and I’ll come tuck you in.”

“I love the way you are with the girls.  You talk to them on their level.  You certainly keep their interest.”

“Rebecca has heard all of these stories before, and if I try to change them or leave out part of one, she calls me on it.  It’s fascinating to me, the things they remember.

“They should be ready now.  Let’s tuck them in together, okay?”

The girls were in bed, Sarah went to each one, hugged and kissed them and told them both she loved them.  To Cassie, she said, “I’m glad you let me be a part of your family.  We’re going to have fun together.”

Cassie hugged her fiercely, “I’m glad you liked us and didn’t go back to South Carolina.”

“I’m glad too, honey.  Sleep tight.”

Clint hugged both girls, and kissed them on the forehead.  He turned the kerosene lamp down, dousing the light in the room.

“Do you want the door left open, girls?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” said, Rebecca.

“Come help me move my things into our bedroom, please,” she asked Clint.  They gathered her things together and carried them into the master bedroom.  This large room contained a bed, a rocking chair by the curtained window, a chest of drawers, and a dresser with a mirror.  In a corner of the room, discreetly hidden behind a screen was the chamber pot. 

Clint lit the kerosene lamp, closed the shutters and drew the curtains together.  “I’ll give you some privacy while you change for bed,” he said.

“Would it embarrass you to be in here while I change?” Sarah asked.

“Well, no, but I thought you might be more comfortable if I…”

“I’m your wife, and I have no secrets from you,” she said.

She turned and came into his arms.  “What I am and what I have is for you and you alone.  I am not a wanton person, but I’m not a prude either,” she whispered, and pressed herself to him. 

Wrapping his powerful arms around her, with one hand behind her head, he lowered his head, “I’m glad,” he said, then his mouth covered hers. 

Her lips parted as they came together.  She entwined her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.  His tongue traced the edges of her mouth before entering.  The touch of his tongue against her was tantalizing.  She quivered at the sweet tenderness of his touch.

The kiss deepened, sending shivers of delight through her.

As he moved his mouth, devouring the softness, his arousal was apparent.  Sarah could feel his manhood pressing against her thigh.  She turned in his arms. 

“Undo me,” she murmured. 

With trembling fingers, he began unhooking the loops of her dress.  He pushed the loosened sleeves down her arms and the dress fell to the floor.  She stepped out of it and raised her arms above her head as he peeled off layer after layer.

She unbuttoned his shirt, and he threw it aside as she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers.  She removed her chemise and stood before him in only her pantaloons, the ivory skin of her breasts reflecting the light from the lantern.

“You’re magnificent,” he said.  “And you’re mine!”

She pressed against him, the erect tips of her breasts singing his chest.  With one hand, he cupped a breast and massaged the pebbly surface of the nipple.  A small gasp of pleasure escaped her lips at the first touch of his hands on the sensitive skin of her breasts.  The gentle massage sent surges of desire throughout her body.  Bending his knees slightly, he pushed her pantaloons down and she stepped from them.  He removed the final piece of his clothing, leaving his member erect and quivering. 

They fell onto the bed, arms wrapped tightly about each other as he slowly moved his hand to the core of her being.  “Be gentle, darling, it’s been a long, long time, Sarah said.”

“I will,” he said and moved his hand beneath her hips, as she arched herself to him.  Slowly, he penetrated her folds as she began to slowly move against him.  Marveling at his tender touch, her excitement grew until she was overtaken by her passion, demanding release.  With her hand, she guided his staff.  Moaning at the feelings generated by the penetration, she began thrusting against him.  He responded by pushing deeper.   Waves of pleasure washed over her, she felt him achieve completion.

As they lay in each other’s arms, she looked into his eyes and saw the depths of emotion behind them.  “Oh my, that was wonderful.  You were so gentle, I couldn’t believe it.  It has been such a long time since I’ve felt this way.  Hugging him fiercely, her mouth sought his and firmly possessed it.  “We’re going to be good together, you and I.  I feel so blessed at having found someone so tender and caring.”

Her desire rose, as did his, and slowly they made tender love as they sought ways to pleasure the other.  Spent, they lay in each other’s arms and fell asleep.

Sarah’s eyes fluttered open.  Clint was on his side, facing her.  Stretching languidly, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“Watching you sleep.  You are beautiful, you know.”

“Thank you.  A girl likes to hear that.  What time is it?”

“It’s about five.  I usually get up at five and take care of the stock.  You don’t get up.  Stay in bed and enjoy it.”

“No,” she said.  “I want to get up, and I’ll have our breakfast ready when you come back in.  “Our first married breakfast.

“Oh, if I didn’t tell you, that was great last night.  It was everything I hoped for and more.  We make a good couple,” she said.

“I think we are a good match, myself,” he said.

“And we have the rest of our lives to improve on it,” she said.

“Amen to that,” he said, stood and began to get dressed.

Sarah wrote a letter to her mother and father, shortly after she arrived in Marshall.  It read, in part:

“Dear Mama and Papa. It was a long and tiring trip from Yorkville.  Rebecca and I were exhausted when we arrived.  Our fatigue was erased immediately by the warm welcome we received.

I am so blessed.  Clint is a loving and caring man.  He is a wonderful father to a most delightful little girl named Cassie, who is two years older than Rebecca.  Cassie immediately adopted Rebecca and is her protector.  Cassie was so worried we might not like them and would return to Carolina, she almost made herself sick.  Her worries went away after our wedding the Sunday after our arrival. 

We were married following the regular services, by the Reverend Wells, pastor of the Baptist Church where Clint and his family are members.  We were warmly welcomed by everyone.  After the ceremony, we had dinner with Clint’s sister and her family.  We were made to feel very welcome.

Cassie shares her bedroom with Rebecca.  I was in a guest bedroom until after our ceremonies. 

Mama, Papa, we are so happy here.  We are both well, and we feel a joy we haven’t felt in years.  We traveled through Atlanta and the damage inflicted on the people of Atlanta was unbelievable.  We saw it all the way here.  From Atlanta, we traveled to New Orleans and we took a river boat upstream to Shreveport and a stagecoach to Marshall. 

Clint was wounded at Vicksburg and was a prisoner of war.  His wife passed away from pneumonia shortly after he made his way home.  He doesn’t speak of his war experiences.  Rebecca sends her love, as do I.  Thank you and Papa for being such wonderful parents.  Our love for you knows no bounds.  (s) Your loving daughter, Sarah.

* * *

Cassie attended school in a one room school house located near Suzy and Arthur Thomas’s farm.  Rebecca, who had never attended school, would be attending the same school when the fall schedule began. 

Since Clint had no information, Sarah asked Suzy what was needed and got the enrollment done, and purchased the needed supplies.  It would be her lot to get the girls to and from school each day.

The Thomases were in Marshall to purchase supplies from the general store for Sarah to use in making dresses for the girls, and herself.  The store had a limited number of patterns Sarah would use for the dresses, along with the ones she had brought with her.  She involved Rebecca and Cassie in the selection of cloth from which their dresses would be made.  They also purchased shirt cloth for the shirts Sarah would fashion for Clint.  None of the family had many new things, since the war had made replacement almost impossible. 

On the way home, Clint said, “Work on the railroad to Marshall has started back up.  The government is backing it.  This is going to open more markets for the cotton, and gives us more competition between buyers, driving prices up.  It’ll make the northern markets a lot more accessible,  Instead of our cotton being sent by boat, rail would get cotton to the mills up north a lot faster.  Sine ours is ready to pick earlier than a lot of the other growing areas, we can take advantage of the early market.  I expect we’ll get at least forty bales this year.  That would be a good year.”

Sarah had learned to sew from her mother, who made most of the family clothes.  Before John went to war, she had made his clothes as well as her own.  She had always made all of Rebecca’s clothes.  She had learned to modify patterns to suit their needs, as well as the ability to create shirts from a finished piece.  Her skills proved beneficial to her new family.

* * *

“I want to help more,” she told Clint one morning at breakfast.  “I want to take some of the burden from you.  You take on a big load here, and I can help with the milking and do some of the hoeing of the cotton.

“If you will turn the soil, I will put in some vegetables before any more of the growing season passes.”

“I don’t want you working in the fields,” he said.  “It’s not work for a woman.”

“Clint Thomas, during the war, this woman planted, hoed and picked cotton.  I am accustomed to hard work and I will help.”

“I appreciate the offer, but you aren’t accustomed to the type of heat we have here.  You simply can’t do it.  I won’t let you.  Besides, we’re in good shape now.  If we can just get a little rain, I believe we’ll have a big crop this year, maybe even forty bales.”

It had been a wet August.  Like all vegetation, cotton needs a certain amount of rain to thrive.  The same rain that benefits cotton, also benefits its natural enemies.  Every three or four years, Texas cotton farmers are plagued
by cotton worms, also known as army worms.  They are more likely to appear following a wet spell.  If they appear in mid to late September, their damage is minimal.

Clint was in the fields from sunup to sundown.  The hot, muggy weather had made him irritable.  It was nearly dark every evening, when he came in from the fields.  It was so late, Sarah had done the milking, after hearing the bawling of the cows as their udders were painfully heavy with milk. 

When he came in, his face, arms and hands were dirty.  Sarah was alarmed at his appearance.  “What’s going on?” she asked.  “You’ve been in the fields until dark every day, and you come in looking as if you’ve been rolling in the dirt.”

“It’s hot and muggy out there, and it’s hard work,” he said irritably.

“Clint, I was raised on a farm.  I know about hot and I know about hard work.  Don’t treat me as if I’m a child.  Something is bothering you and I want to know what it is.”

“Did you have Texas cotton worms in South Carolina?” he asked.

“ I never heard of a Texas cotton worm, but we had army worms.  They could ruin a cotton crop in no time,” she answered.

“It’s probably the same thing we have here.  Last year, my crop was hurt by the worm.  One of my neighbors had his fields completely stripped and lost the whole crop. 

“With all of the rain we had, I’ve been afraid they might be back.  At church last week, one of my neighbors told me he had seen some on his cotton.  I found them in the far field.  The plants are stripped.  I’ve already lost that field, now I’m trying to keep them away from the rest of the crop.”

“What can you do about stopping them?” she asked.

“You can sweep the plants and get a lot of them off.”

“Papa dusted his cotton with poison mixed with flour, and that killed most of them.”

“I can’t afford to spend much on something like that.  Besides, I don’t know where I could get one,” he said.

“Can we afford not to?  I don’t know how much the poison cost, but it must have been worth it since it saved the cotton.  Papa made his duster.  It was a simple enough thing to do.  He took a board and nailed a bag on each end of the board.  He poured the poison into the bags and went up and down the rows.  The bouncing of the bags at the ends of the board shook the dust out.  He rode our mule up and down the rows with the bags shaking the poison out.”

“I never heard of such a thing, but it sounds kind of simple.  Do you and the girls want to go into Marshall with me and see if we can find anything out about a worm poison?”

“Whither thou goest, there I go also, husband of mine,” she said.
 

“What kind of bag di
d he use?  Seed bags?”               

“I don’t think seed bags would be good, because they would let too much poison through.  I think Papa must have used flour sacks.  You know how the flour kind of comes out if you hit the bag with your hand?  That’s what you are trying for here.”

* * *

“Clint, you old stick!  How’ve you been?  I haven’t seen you for a while,” said Jud Hendricks, the proprietor of the general store.

“I’ve been all right, Jud.  You didn’t meet my wife, Sarah yet, did you?” asked Clint.

“No, I can’t say that I have.  I heard you got married though.”

“Sarah, this here’s Jud Hendricks.  My family has done business with him for years.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Hendricks,” she said.

“Ma’am, the pleasure is all mine.  You have a mighty fine husband here.  I’ve known him since he was just a little shaver.”

“Jud, I’m looking for some kind of poison powder to use on cotton worms.  Do you have anything along that line?” Clint asked.

“I’ve got some arsenate of lead left over from last year.  I don’t think it goes bad, but I’ll make you a good price on it.  You going to use this on your cotton?  I never heard of anybody doing that before,” Jud said.

“Sarah’s papa is a cotton farmer in South Carolina.  She said he used a mixture of poison and flour and just dusted the plants.”

“It’d be a boon if something like that worked,” Jud said.  “I heard tell Seth Williams lost one whole field to them worms.  Come on back and let’s see what I have back here.”

“Honey, you and the girls look around and I’ll be right back.

“Jud, I’ll need to get a couple of sacks of flour too,” Clint said.

In the back of the store, they found more than enough of the arsenate of lead to allow for a couple of dustings of the cotton.  “I’ll take it,” Clint said.

“That’s a mighty smart woman you got there, Clint,” Jud said.

“Her first husband was killed during the war in Virginia, and she planted and picked her crop until after the war, when they raised taxes way up and she lost the farm.  She’s got a lot of spirit.  I reckon as how I might have lost my entire crop before she told me about this dusting thing.  I hope it works.  If it doesn’t, then at least I’ve tried something instead of just letting the worms have it.”  He said this last, with a fierce determination.  He did not give up easily and not without a fight then.

“You have any gloves?” asked the storekeeper.

“I have a pair I use when working the fences,” said Clint.

“We better get going.  I have to make the duster and start getting it out,  I haven’t seen any worms except in the field they already chewed up. but I want to be ready if they move.”

“Come on girls.  Honey, I’m going to treat you to a meal at the café.  Seeing as you might have saved the day, it’s the least I can do.”

“That’s twice today you’ve called me honey.  I like it.  Are you sure you don’t want to get back and get started on this?”

“Since worms don’t come every year, my thinking is you wouldn’t dust until you had sign of the worms.  You’d save money on the years they don’t show,  I want to have a meal and show off my smart wife.  That’s what Jud called you,” he finished with a grin.

She blushed prettily.  “He’s a nice man,” she said.

They walked down to Delmonico’s Café and enjoyed a meal together.  Once again, with obvious pride, he introduced Sarah to the people he had known his entire life.  “Papa, you sure know a lot of people,” said Rebecca.

“Well, I’ve lived here all my life and most of these people have too, so it’s just natural.  Let’s get back to the wagon and head home,” he said.

Back at the farm…

“I’ve been thinking about the duster,” Clint said.  “It would cut down on the amount of time to dust, if you made it over three rows instead of two.  I would need another bag that way.  If we limit the weight of the bag, and used the mule, I could probably dust most of a field in a day, easy.  It might take me a week to do the whole crop, but that wouldn’t be a problem, if I concentrate on the areas where the worms are active.”

“I think you have a good plan”, said Sarah. 

Two days later…

“We’ve got worm signs in the next field over,” Clint told Sarah.  He donned his gloves, and poured the mixture into the bags.  He hitched up the mule and headed off to the infested area.  Four hours later, he was back at the house. Sarah made his lunch and poured a glass of lemonade for him.  “Well, she said, “How did it go,” she asked 

“The dust comes out all right and settled on the plants pretty good.  Unless we have a heavy rain,  and I don’t see any clouds right now, we should be good to go.”

“We’re going to have to get the word around to the other farms.  You might have saved the entire cotton crop in Harrison County.  I’m proud of you.  If I wasn’t covered with poison dust, I’d give you a big hug and kiss.”

“I’ll heat some water and you can take a bath and then you can give me a big hug and kiss,” she said.