Dellie’s Room
by
Nancy Ellen
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Contents
Chapter 1
The candlelight flickered across the paper, and Dellie forced her eyes to see the lines in order to write between them.
7 September 1895
To: Mr. Robert Bingham, Twin Lakes, Colorado
Dear Mr. Bingham,
I know I would be the perfect wife for you. Your ad said you wanted a fine-looking tall woman of good character who can cook and take hardship. I’m especially fine looking, have a very good character, and most certainly can take hardship. My name is Dehlia, but everyone calls me Dellie. I’m seventeen years old. Please send me that train ticket, and I’ll be the best wife you could ever hope for.
Hoping to be yours, very truly,
Dellie
I didn’t really lie, she thought, folding the paper into the envelope. I just didn’t tell him all the truth. It doesn’t matter; it’s time to leave home.
~~~
It pleased Robert that five letters had arrived with the stagecoach, and he had made a good fire to sit by while he read them. For a moment he stared at the letters he had placed side by side on the table. Gently, he picked them up, shuffling them like cards. He sat down, kicked off his muddy boots, and tore open the top envelope.
Reading Dellie’s letter first, he chuckled over its lack of information, then threw it toward the fire. The paper drifted to the floor at his feet, which made him chuckle more, knowing Sugarcake would say the spirits made that happen. After reading the other few, he poured himself a shot of whiskey and drank it down. He reached forward with a grunt, picking up Dellie’s letter. Educated handwriting, he thought. Good punctuation. He read it once more. “Too damn sweet.”
~~~
The train whistle startled her out of her doze. “Are we in Denver?” Dellie asked the old man sitting next to her.
“Just about. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Oh, you should have,” she said, reaching to retrieve her bonnet.
“You been so nervous the whole trip, honey, I thought you should get some shuteye to be fresh for your weddin’.”
Her hands trembled as she tied the blue ribbons into a large bow under her chin. She sat erect in her seat. “How do I look? Do you think my bonnet makes me look taller?”
The old man smiled and studied the bunch of cloth daisies sewn on the crown of her bonnet, a few strands of her strawberry-blond hair curled about her face. “What do you want to look taller for? You’re the prettiest little thing I ever did see.”
The station came into view and Dellie peered out the window looking for a tall man with a beard wearing a black flat-rimmed hat. Her gaze quickly fell upon him, making her gasp. She bid the old man adieu and headed for the door, trying to stretch out her five-foot-two-inch frame. Shoulders back, she thought. Head up.
~~~
Robert leaned his six-foot-two-inch body against the pole while examining the passengers descending the train steps. He felt nervous and didn’t like the sensation. What a stupid bonnet, he thought as he studied the small woman walking toward him.
The briskness of the October day swept through Dellie’s flannel cape and cotton-blue dress, making her shiver. He was handsomer than she had imagined, and he had a nice laugh, but his overall appearance intimidated her. Besides his hat being black, so were his clothes, knee-length coat jacket, hair, and beard.
“You’re Dellie,” he said with a nasty chuckle.
“You must be Robert,” she said, extending her hand courageously in greeting, and was taken by the beautiful blue of his eyes.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her close. “Are you playing games with me, little woman?” With his deep voice and all that black, she had the feeling of being surrounded by a bear. His fingers flicked at her bonnet. “Take this thing off.”
“No,” Dellie said indignantly, dropping her small satchel and placing her hand on top of her head. “I’m sorry I’m little, but my figure’s good. What difference does it make if I’m not tall?”
Robert wanted tall because he liked having sex with tall women while standing; he enjoyed it completely and wanted to experience the pleasure with a wife. But he didn’t think this probable virgin could handle the truth. “Can you cook?”
“Sort of,” she said too quickly. “I mean, yes, with a cookbook.”
Slowly he pulled her cape open and examined her petite yet hourglass figure and wondered if the hair between her legs would be the same color as the red gold flowing down to her shoulders.
She had been watching his eyes move over her, noticing where they came to rest. “Yes, it’s the same color.”
Her seeming mind-reading abilities startled him, as did the brazen words out of her innocent-looking mouth. Their eyes locked.
~~~
Dellie’s train had arrived at ten in the morning, and they were married at noon. They headed out by covered wagon into the Rocky Mountains by two o’clock. Compared to Chicago where she was from, Denver seemed a rough town. Still, it impressed her that the city had such sophisticated buildings, as she had imagined Denver would be on a mountain with Indians all about.
She had asked to spend the night at the Brown Palace Hotel, but Robert had laughed and said he’d spent enough on her already. In addition to some warm clothes, material, and toiletries, he bought her a hooded fur coat and boots. Wrapped in a warmer cape than the one she had been wearing, she inhaled the clean air and the coldness singed her throat, as the weather had turned cool, although the sky was clear of clouds. A train traveled to Leadville, but Robert said he had supplies he felt more comfortable transporting. It amused Dellie to be riding on a covered wagon. She had never observed any on the streets of Chicago but had seen pictures of them. “How far is it to where you live?”
“About four days to Leadville if we don’t get snowed in, then another twenty-two miles south to Twin Lakes near Mt. Elbert, the largest mountain in the state.”
“Snowed in four days?” Dellie echoed in shock. “Where are we going to sleep?” Her eyes darted around as they headed out of civilization. “Where am I going to go to the water closet? Where will I bathe?”
“You’ll sleep in the wagon, shit and pee in the woods, bathe in a river. I’ve got supplies for anything. Anyway, you said you could take hardship and you will.”
“I meant hard work. I’ll freeze in a river.”
“No you won’t; you can heat some water over the fire and take a bucket bath. Or stink if you want to. We’ll wash when we reach the cabin.”
“Aren’t you going to have me before then?”
Her matter-of-fact question caught him off guard. His mouth dropped and he stared.
“Well, aren’t you?” Dellie pursued, ignoring his expression. “You didn’t even kiss me after our wedding.”
He steered the horses to the side of the road. “What kind of question is that for you to be asking? Are you a virgin?”
“No, are you?”
“How many men you been with?”
“Now don’t get upset, I’ll be a better wife to you. I know what pleases a man. You didn’t ask for a virgin.”
“I didn’t ask for a whore, either. Jesus!” He jumped from the wagon and started pacing.
“I was born in a brothel,” Dellie said, sliding over to his side of the wagon seat in order to be closer to him. “Mama wouldn’t let me get actually done until I was sixteen, which was just a year ago, but I’ve really had only a few men, because I got sore and Mama stopped letting men have me for a couple months. Then they couldn’t have big penises. Don’t worry, though, I can tell by your fingers that you’re big, but I’m not sore anymore. I didn’t like being with different men. And don’t worry about diseases – Mama always made the man wear a sheath. Anyway, I finally told her I didn’t want to follow in her footsteps, and she said then I’d have to make my own way in the world, and I should find me a man to marry me. Even with my being a whore, I was pretty enough to find a husband. You wanted a fine-looking woman; it was first on your list. How come you had to advertise for a wife?”
Stunned to his core, Robert stared at her and began to laugh at the wild strangeness of her tale and laughed until he doubled over.
Seemingly oblivious to his levity, Dellie asked, “Can’t we have our wedding night in a room?”
Slowly straightening, he contained himself. “Move over,” he said, climbing back onto the wagon and flicking the reins, causing the horses to lurch forward.
“Answer me,” Dellie said, gripping the side rail for balance. “Mama taught me how important good hygiene is for pleasure, and I’ve been without a proper bath for a couple days.”
He studied her face with its beautiful cheekbones and skin so soft and smooth looking. He doubted she had told the truth about her age. “How old are you?”
“I wrote you. Seventeen, August twentieth. Honest, I have a young face but a woman’s body. I really want to bathe before we do it, so please let’s get a room for the night.”
“I’ll bathe you in the river and clean out that used cunny of yours before I have a go at it.”
~~~
The tall mountains shadowed what was left of the sunny day. The wind had picked up, making the pine trees roar around her. Never had she seen so many trees, and Dellie found the unfamiliar scent of pine frightening. Her body ached from the continual jarring of the uneven road beneath them, and she was so tired that she knew if she didn’t lie down soon, she would die. She kept picturing Robert throwing her into the river that flowed past them from time to time as they meandered deeper into the foreboding territory. She prayed she could suddenly be snuggled in her bed with her mama in the next room. Tears began flowing down her cheeks.
The wagon turned off the road. “We’ll camp here for the night,” Robert said. “This is the best place for a ways.” The sound of the river grew louder as the horses pulled them near.
After the wagon stopped, Dellie’s gloom overwhelmed her and she began sobbing. She quickly slipped onto Robert’s lap and put her arms around his neck. “Please don’t put me in the river,” she cried. “I want to go home. I miss my mama.”
She caught him off guard and he sat motionless. Her weariness increased her despondency, making her weep uncontrollably. A rare empathy with her situation touched him, and he let her weep. Soon the gasping sobs lessened, until he could tell that she had fallen asleep. Holding her with one arm, he turned sideways and opened the entrance to the inside of the wagon, then carefully swung himself around so as not to wake her. He lay her down on the bed he had prepared before they had set off on their journey. Gently, he removed her shoes, then moved to her bonnet and delicately untied the same bow she had tied with such anticipation that morning.
~~~
Dellie’s bladder woke her up, and when she opened her eyes, she saw nothing but black. Warmth covered her and she heard his breathing close by. Relief swept over her as she realized he hadn’t thrown her into the river. “Robert,” she whispered, “please wake up.”
“Mmmmm,” he groaned but didn’t stir further.
She shook his arm. “Robert, wake up.”
“What?” he finally asked.
“I must pee so badly and I can’t see.”
He lit the oil lamp he had near him and the wagon filled with soft light. It surprised her how roomy it was even with the boxes of supplies. “You can pee over there in the bucket.”
She hated to leave the warm blankets but thrilled to hear she didn’t have to venture out into the black, wind-roaring night.
With his arm over his eyes, he listened to her urine hit the pail and his penis hardened.
“I hope this isn’t the same bucket you’d have me bathe from?”
He smiled slightly, his mind focused on sex. Oddly, he didn’t feel comfortable initiating the act, and a picture of her being used by other men flew across his mind. He squeezed his eyes tighter, trying to blot it out. She was born into it, he thought, not her choice.
Dellie covered the bucket then returned next to him. He blew out the light. She turned toward him with a yearning of her own, part sexual, part needing to be held. She had not put her bloomers back on. His kindness had soothed her, and she wanted to thank him for it. Her lips caressed his neck, and she inhaled his masculine scent as he rolled over her, balancing himself on his elbows so as not to crush her. With a brush of his lips she opened hers, and their tongues sought out the other with anticipated pleasure. The pleasure melted into passion, and they enjoyed themselves through a mutually exquisite climax.
~~~
Two days into the trip, Robert found himself continually thinking about Dellie being a whore, and a very arousing one at that. He urged the horses forward as they made their way slowly up the steep terrain. He owned a whorehouse, which he hadn’t planned to share with his wife; he would let her think it was the brothel down the road. With Dellie being a lady of the night, it confused him as to what to do now. Should he tell her the truth? It disappointed him that his dream of a good woman to bear his children had gone up in smoke, but Dellie made intelligent conversation, she read newspapers, and she could discuss the events of the world. Maybe she wouldn’t have his children, but she could be a good companion. He looked at the hooded little figure next to him; her profile was as beautiful as the front view. She glanced up at him, smiling, then hugged his arm. I’ll probably keep her, he thought. If not she could make the house a lot of money. Beatrice will get a laugh over this; maybe I won’t tell her about Dellie’s past.
Chapter 2
Lying inside the wagon, Dellie admired the sunlight streaming through the canvas and the ethereal glow it created. “I found me a good man, Mama,” she said softly. She had already dressed but wanted to be where it was warmer. Robert reined in the horses, and when she heard him jump from the wagon seat, she crawled from beneath the blankets and put her head out the front.
It had snowed during the night, and the sun sparkling on all the white made her squint. She assumed they had come to the stagecoach stop at the foot of the giant mountain and beheld the scenery Robert had been describing throughout their trip – mountains of such grandeur she felt no bigger than a speck. The Twin Lakes that the town was named after lay right across the road, and it astounded her she would be living amid such natural beauty. The enormity of it all scared her yet stimulated her as well. The vistas on the ride up had mesmerized her, mountains and valleys as far as the eye could see. She had grown to love the pungent scent of pine and her nostrils tingled from the cold as she took a deep breath. She put on her cape and followed Robert into a wooden two-story building.
“Well look at this,” the big woman behind the counter said. “My God, boy, did you get yourself a baby doll?”
Introductions were made. “You’re seventeen, honey?” Beatrice asked. Craggy faced, Beatrice had her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a bun, which was the most feminine thing about her. She was wearing tan leather pants with a red flannel shirt.
“I am,” Dellie said, smiling at Robert. She then realized she didn’t know his age. “How old are you, Robert?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Ten years ain’t too bad,” Beatrice said in a loud, raspy voice. Her eyes never left Dellie as she elbowed Robert in the ribs. “But I hope a big bear like you ain’t hurt this little beauty.”
“I thought of him as a bear, too,” Dellie said, liking this woman. “No, he didn’t have to worry about that; I’d already been broken in. We fit together very nicely.”
Robert grimaced and chuckled. “Dellie, go back to the wagon. I’ve got a few deliveries for Beatrice.”
“Oh Lordy, boy.” Beatrice chortled. “I told ya she was the one. He let me read his letters, and I told him you was the one.”
“You picked me?” Dellie asked in disbelief.
“I picked you,” Robert said while leading Dellie outside. “Beatrice agreed with my choice.”
“What made you choose me?” she asked as Robert lifted her into the wagon.
He didn’t answer as he climbed up and sat close. “Don’t ever speak about your past to anyone again,” he said firmly.
“You ashamed of me?”
“Never again,” he said, his deep voice dropping lower.
“What will you do to me if I do?”
“I’ll give you to Beatrice and let her put you back to work.”
“That’s a brothel?” she asked excitedly, her eyes roaming around Robert in order to study the weather-worn building. “For heaven’s sake.” She looked back at him. “Do you live nearby so I can visit?”
“Visit?” he boomed. “You forget your past or you can live there.”
“I was born, raised, and educated in a brothel. If I can’t talk about it then I won’t have much to talk about, so if you’re ashamed of me, you can just give me to Beatrice. I’ll pay you for the clothes, too.”
“Okay,” he said nastily, “next time I’ll specify a virgin. I guess good character doesn’t mean the same to you as it does to me. I’ll see if she’s got a bed for you.”
“I’ve as good a character as you,” Dellie said, watching him disappear inside the wagon to retrieve the supplies he had bought for Beatrice. Maybe he’s teasing me, she wondered. He’s trying to scare me, he loves me, but he never told me he loved me. He’s going to get rid of me and get a virgin. She jumped from the wagon and ran in to stop him.
He was placing a box on the counter when the door opened. “I told you to wait in the wagon. Get back there.”
“I want to be with you.”
“Get out,” he roared.
His fierce order sent her out the door where she stopped on the porch, stunned, unable to bear the frustration of not knowing her fate. His harsh cruelty alarmed her as well. Anger, fear, and sadness fought to take over her being; he had been so friendly on the ride up, since the first time they made love.
The door opened, startling her as he grabbed her and swept her up onto the wagon. He flicked the reins, beckoning the horses forward.
She studied his profile, hoping he would speak. She had been given a rhinestone ring once and thought how his eyes were the same elusive dark blue. Her mama would have said he had eyes that could make a dead woman excited. His nose was straight, almost long but not quite, and sensual lips could have a cruel edge, although when he smiled, she had read true happiness on them. Dellie had been so pleased and thankful for his fine masculine looks and for what she had thought had been a kind nature.
At last she had to ask, “What did Beatrice say?”
“She said I ought to have you with me during the week and bring you over on weekends. As long as other men have already used you, what difference would it make? She could earn good money on a sweet lookin’ thing like you.”
Dellie’s eyes brimmed with tears, and she turned her face away. It saddened him to hurt her, so he pushed the feeling down. He’d been on his own since he was fifteen. He liked people but didn’t want their troubles. People had too many of them and he found living away from civilization made life simple. Except now, since he’d given in to his yearning for his own woman. A chuckle rose in his throat and he squashed that, too. He could have all the whores he wanted and Beatrice kept a good house for him, but he had wanted a wife. Laughter rose too fast and he laughed out loud. They glanced at each other and he quieted quickly. “See that cabin in those trees?” he asked, pointing. “That’s mine.”
Dellie viewed it in the distance and sighed with disappointment, unable to get excited about finally arriving. This is my destiny, she thought. Born to a whore, be a whore, die a whore.
Robert stopped the wagon, jumped down, and held his arms out for her.
Dellie slid toward him then hesitated. “Robert, you have to carry me across the threshold and treat me like your wife or you just let the horses rest awhile and take me back to Beatrice’s now. I’ll be a whore there on weekends if you really want me to, but during the week you have to treat me like your wife. If you’re going to laugh at me and yell and scare me, then I’m better off with strangers where at least Beatrice will protect me.”
Lowering his arms, he stared at her for a moment, then nodded slightly and reached out his arms again, and she moved into them. He carried her into the house and even gave her a kiss before putting her down and going back outside.
Dellie loved her new home the moment she laid eyes on it. He had described it on the trip, but seeing it in person gave her even more respect for him. There were three rooms, each of which held a fireplace. The main room had a potbellied stove and oven for cooking, and the bedroom contained a large bed, two bureaus, and a back room for bathing. Robert had said he made most of the furniture, but the detailed tables and chairs were much finer than she had imagined. Many bookcases overflowed with books. Yes, she thought, one would need entertainment so far from the city. Looking out the window, she saw that the privy stood conveniently nearby. She strolled through the cabin over and over, admiring the warmth all the furs gave it. There was even a bearskin rug laid in front of the hearth.
Robert entered after tending to the horses and unloading the wagon. She had made fires in every place there could be one and filled the giant water kettle with water, one pitcher at a time, for a bath.
He put away the food supplies while Dellie watched where things went. “Now, I knew you never cooked over a campfire so I was willing to do all the cooking, but have you ever cooked?”
“I told you at the house we had Mattie, the cook, but I helped a lot and can follow recipes, honest. I’ll help you cook what you like, then I’ll learn.”
“Can you skin and clean animals?”
A look of horror crossed her face. “Oh Robert, please, you have to prepare them for cooking.”
“What if I had been a less forgiving man over your lying letter?”
With a coy smile she said, “You’re still a man.”
“You really are a little whore, aren’t you?” He said it without malice and she didn’t take offense.
“I’ll be a good wife. You won’t be sorry, you’ll see.”
~~~
Robert made supper while Dellie bathed, then he bathed while she washed the dishes. He sat in the backroom’s big tub staring into the fire, wondering if he could keep Dellie’s past from Beatrice. He had concocted the weekend story to tease Dellie, but it wasn’t a bad idea as he’d had a couple of the whores come to stay with him from time to time. It had never bothered him to take them back to the brothel when he wanted to, knowing other men would use them. With Dellie, though, the thought irritated him. For his own sanity, he’d have to think of her as another whore staying with him for a while. She had promised him that after they were both bathed, they would experience many more pleasures.
“Dellie,” he called, “come in here.”
Chapter 3
Dellie stirred the breakfast porridge, pleased that she remembered the recipe and that Robert had the ingredients. Robert came into the room gratified to see the table set and a meal being cooked.
“So, what are we going to do today?” she asked, bringing over their bowls of food.
“I’m going hunting so we can get stocked for winter. I told you it can snow a lot up here. What about you?”
At that moment, Dellie realized she didn’t know what she would do; she’d always had someone to tell her. “The place is pretty small, and it won’t take too long to clean up. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“This is good,” he said, swallowing. “What have you got in here? Sugar, cinnamon, apples . . .”
“Nutmeg and butter. I was surprised you had it.”
“Good cooking is an important pleasure when you’re snowed in for a month or longer. Why don’t you make some dresses out of that wool. You’re going to need them. Make some bread and pies – you’ll find recipes in the cookbook over the stove.”
“Who will I talk to?”
“Yourself.”
“I’ve never been alone in a house before. You have a lot of books, but I can’t read all day. Maybe you could drop me off at Beatrice’s while you hunt, then pick me up on your way home – just to chat, of course. Do you think Beatrice would mind if I visit? I’ll sew and bake on days you’re around. I wouldn’t work at the brothel, of course, except on weekends if you really want me to.”
The thought of slapping her face crossed his mind, but he tightened his fist to keep from giving in to his gut reaction. “Are you the kind of whore who likes being knocked around? I can’t see your mama letting that happen, but your mama isn’t here to protect her little girl, and I’m not sharing your mouth or cunny with anyone until I’m ready, so stop talking about it.”
So much for being treated and talked to like a wife, she thought. Dellie wanted to reprimand him, but he was right. Her mama could no longer protect her, so she swallowed her anger along with her porridge. “Please tell me why you advertised for a bride. Why didn’t you just keep using Beatrice’s whores? Or why didn’t you find yourself a virgin in Leadville or Denver? You seem refined for a mountain man. You have things. Why won’t you tell me about your childhood?”
“I advertised for a wife because it seemed like the thing to do at the time. Winding up with a little whore like you has to be the strangest thing that ever happened to me, and I’ve had strange things happen.”
“Did you advertise in any other paper besides Chicago?”
“Chicago sounded like it would have fine women.”
“Why did you take the risk of a stranger?”
“I took the risk on your letter. If I hadn’t liked you when I saw you I was ready to send you back on the next train.”
“What did you like about my letter?”
With a nasty smile, he said, “Its innocence. And what about you? I could’ve been a killer and tortured you to death in the mountains.”
“Perhaps. I trusted my intuition and, thankfully, I was correct. I could see kindness in your eyes.” Their eyes met. “Did you really talk to Beatrice about me working weekends?”
“No,” he said, glancing down.
“We did get along so well on the way up here. If I weren’t a whore, would you be happy with me?”
Annoyed by the reminder, he replied harshly, “We got along because you didn’t talk so much.”
“There was so much to look at. What strange things have happened to you?”
He rose from his chair and took his dishes to the basin. He stuffed a sack with jerky and nuts, then filled a canteen from the water barrel. “I’ll be back late tonight. If I’m not back by tomorrow afternoon, ride a horse to Beatrice’s and tell her to look for me north. I’ve left plenty of feed for the horses and I’m only taking one. Don’t go over unless I don’t come back.”
The door shut and Dellie sat like a statue; he hadn’t kissed her goodbye. I’m only a whore to him, she thought and put her head in her arms and sobbed for her mother, speaking out loud to the empty room, “I’m afraid, Mama. Why did you have to die? I shouldn’t have come here; he doesn’t love me.” Her gasping breaths quieted and she began to calm down. She wanted to write to Mattie but knew she couldn’t take the risk. Mattie had tried to talk her out of leaving Chicago, but Dellie believed she would become just another whore without her mother there to guard over her and choose her customers. What would I write? she wondered. I don’t want to admit I made a mistake and besides, she’d worry about me. I can never write; they’d find me from the postmark. She remembered Beatrice’s kindness toward her yesterday and a warm feeling crept over her.
Dellie didn’t know how to ride a horse, and Robert hadn’t given her a chance to tell him. After washing the breakfast dishes, she wrapped herself in the warm cape and pulled on her boots and walked toward Beatrice’s. The weather was fair and the road easy to follow, but the hilly terrain tired her. She tried not to look into the dense woods on either side of the narrow road for fear she would see unwelcome eyes staring, and she prayed no wild animal would pounce and drag her away. She trudged for almost an hour before the building came into view. Exhausted, she hoped she would be able to convince Beatrice to drive her home in a buggy; otherwise she would only be able to stay long enough to rest up in case Robert came home early. Her stomach growled, and she also hoped Beatrice would give her some food. Most of all she hoped Beatrice wouldn’t tell Robert about her journey.
As she approached the brothel, she recognized the horse tied in front with its distinctive brown and white markings as one of Robert’s. She turned to go back to his cabin before he saw her, but her fatigue was so great that she feared she’d collapse before she made it. He said he was going hunting, she thought. What is he doing here? Probably laughing about me. He thinks me no better than a whore. What do I care what he thinks? I’ve earned my clothes with all the sex I’ve given him, anyway.
She opened the door then shut it quickly but quietly. Bending over to stay hidden, she circled to the back of the house and knocked on the door.
A woman answered. “What do you want?” she asked.
“I’d like to see Beatrice, but please don’t let Robert know I’m here. That is Robert’s horse out there, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Robert’s here.” A big, toothy smile appeared on the woman’s face. “You must be the little angel Beatrice described. You come on in and sit down. I’ll get her.”
Dellie grabbed the woman’s hands. “Please don’t let Robert know I’m here. He didn’t want me visiting.”
The woman laughed and said knowingly, “I understand, honey, I’ll take care of it.” She nudged Dellie into a chair and gave her a cup of coffee and two big oatmeal cookies.
A sigh of relief escaped from Dellie’s lips and she said a silent prayer of thanks for coming across kind people. The woman wore a heavy material blue dress with a white full-body apron and a flowered scarf tied around her head that was similar to Mattie’s. Although tall and heavy, Mattie’s skin was very black, and this woman had lighter skin, her body tall and wiry.
“The girls call me Ethel Sugarcake, but my name is just Ethel.” With that said, she turned and left the room.
A few moments later Beatrice and Ethel came into the kitchen and upon seeing Dellie, Beatrice laughed loudly. Ethel put her hand over her mouth.
“Little angel face don’t want Robert knowing she’s here.”
“Is Robert fucking one of your girls?”
The women’s expressions turned to surprise as they stared into each other’s eyes then burst out laughing. It annoyed Dellie how often people laughed at her.
~~~
Robert poured himself another shot of whiskey and drank it down. When he heard the laughter again, he glanced toward the kitchen and stood up. He’d been here long enough and knew he’d better go bag some game and accomplish something worthwhile during his day before returning home to Dellie. He didn’t want to leave her alone too long, but she needed to get used to his absences. The kitchen door opened.
“What are you doing here?” Dellie asked, stopping a few feet from him.
“What are you doing here?” he shot back. “I told you to stay home.”
“You said you were going hunting. What kind of game were you hunting for?”
“How did you get here?”
“I walked.”
“You could’ve been lunch for an old wolf I let live around here.”
Beatrice and Ethel had accompanied Dellie, and a few of the other women had entered the room. Robert noticed the audience forming. “Come on, Dellie.” He extended his hand. “I’ll take you home.”
“I’d like to visit with Beatrice for a while.” Dellie turned to Beatrice. “You don’t mind, do you? If you’re busy I’ll come back another day. It’ll be so lonely at Robert’s cabin. Perhaps you could have someone drive me back in a buggy.” Her eyes went to Robert. “I don’t know how to ride a horse or hook up a buggy. We had someone who drove us, and we didn’t go out very often.”
“You go hunting,” Beatrice said to Robert as she put her arm around Dellie’s shoulder. “We’ll see your angel-faced, foul-mouthed wife gets home safe and sound.”
“She’s a whore,” he said harshly. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. Can you believe the irony of it? My little wife has not only been broken in, she’s been selling it for a year.”
“Not a full year,” Dellie interjected. “I’m glad you told them, Robert; now we’ll have more to visit about. Robert didn’t want me to tell you about my past.”
“Shut up, Dellie,” Robert boomed. His anger grew at her twisted innocence and the laughter surrounding him. “You want to live here? You want to sell it here?”
“I told you I don’t like being with different men.” She reached for Robert’s hands but he pulled them away at her touch. Insulted by his gesture, Dellie turned to Beatrice. “Would you let me stay here?”
“Oh Lordly,” Beatrice said, trying to stifle her laughter. “You girls believe these two? Now, boy, you go hunting, and I’ll get Dellie home in an hour or two.”
“Shut up,” he bellowed, and all the women quieted as he picked Dellie up and headed out the door.
“Don’t you hurt that angel face,” Ethel called out. “You’ll answer to me.”
Dellie wondered if Robert had hurt other girls as he put her on his saddle and climbed up behind her. They rode toward his cabin in silence, and it surprised her he didn’t yell. Riding on a horse became quite enjoyable and the horn of the saddle pressed into her pelvic bone, the motion stimulating her to the point that she either had to have an orgasm against the saddle horn or make Robert give her one.
“Robert,” she said, “could you stop a minute?” He did, and Dellie turned to view his expression. A firm but a warm glint sparkled in his eyes. “How about if I remove my drawers, you take out your big prick, and we really ride home together?” She put her arms about his neck and her mouth near his. “How does that sound?” She kissed him sensually and he received her, their tongues playing in each other’s mouth.
He lost himself to passion and his penis pressed uncomfortably against his buttons. He lifted her up so that she could remove her bloomers; then he released his bulging organ from its tight prison. She slid down him and the two rocked and kissed until they both reached a groaning, body-shaking orgasm.
She’s using her sex to control me, he thought, smelling the lavender fragrance of her hair. I don’t want a whore for a wife; I’m not going to give in. I want a virgin, and I was wrong not to specify. He lowered her to the ground so she could put her drawers back on and he buttoned up his spent organ.
As he lifted her, the image of her being used by other men once again sailed over his mind’s eye. He turned the horse toward Beatrice’s.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a feeling of dread.
Robert didn’t reply. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t lose his focus or his future as he had planned it.
“Answer me Robert.” She tried to pull on the reins.
“I care about you, Dellie,” his deep voice sounded above her head. “I just don’t want a whore for a wife or a whore to be the mother of my children. It was a mistake to have sent for a stranger. I’m sorry. I’ll give you money to go home to your mother. I’ll take you back to Denver on the train.”
“No,” she cried, “I want to stay with you. My mama’s dead.”