Kit nodded. “It’s been in the family forever. It’s old but nice. Though I do miss my parents being in it. You would have loved it. We were a really close and happy family.”
“You still are, it seems.”
“Not happy. That died with my parents,” she stated bluntly. Handing me the last dish, she wiped her hands on her apron, and shook her head. “That’s not true, well, not always,” she said. “I feel hope now, with you here… seeing my brothers working to build this land, to work at something not so… so dark. I believe we are all learning how to be happy again.”
I stood there, absently wiping the cloth across the dishes and wondered about what she’d said. Kit might look at the world differently than the average young woman, but I couldn’t help but think she was one of the most insightful people I’d ever met.
Was that what the brothers were doing? They’d said they were on the mountain in hiding. To protect Kit. But was it because they were searching for more? Happiness? And could a simple move truly provide that? Looking out the window, I saw a world they were working on bringing to fruition and yet for the first time, saw that despite the bounty it was capable of, it could also appear barren. The landscape would change as trees budded, the fields would be full of crops, the garden offering vegetables, the animals providing eggs and milk. But while all those things were certainly necessary to sustain life, providing a full belly and a sense of a job well done, none could compete with the feeling of happiness one felt knowing without a doubt there were people who loved them.
“Goldie?”
“Hmmm?”
The sound of laughter drew my attention to her. “I think that plate’s dry. Let’s put the clothes in the wash and then you said we can go work in the garden.”
I set the plate in the cabinet and smiled. Draping the towel over the lip of the sink, I turned to Kit. “Sounds like a plan.”
She clapped her hands and after grabbing the basket and taking a deep breath, telling myself it was just a basement, I followed her down the stairs. Kit chattered like a magpie as she turned on the faucet that would fill the washer’s tub and measured out detergent while I separated the clothes into two piles. The process required was far more labor intensive than shoving a machine full of clothes and flipping a switch, but it did work. It wasn’t until we’d pulled the second sheet through the wringer that I realized I was no longer thinking about anything but… happiness.
“See, nothing to be scared about,” she said cheerfully, wiping her hands on her apron again.
Smiling, I nodded and gave her a hug before picking up the basket of wet clothes to hang on the line. “You’re right. Nothing at all. Now, how about we get some fresh air?”
17
Goldie
I was lost in my thoughts as I kneaded the bread dough for this evening’s supper. Since being taken and forced to adapt to my new home, I had cooked, cleaned, chopped, planted, churned, milked, peeled, and washed. Everything an old-fashioned woman would be expected to do, much like their great-grandmother and all the women of past generations had done before me, had become a part of my daily routine. It had been a challenge, but with Kit’s help, the garden was finally in, the plants growing daily.
The men were just as busy. My sleeping patterns had definitely changed. With no television, no city noises or bright lights, exhausted by the work done each day, I was more than ready for bed not long after the sun had slipped behind the hills. I’d awaken with the break of dawn, slipping downstairs to start the coffee and breakfast once Kit brought in the eggs. By the time the men joined us to eat, they’d most likely chopped some wood, fed the livestock, or completed any of a dozen morning chores.
It didn’t take me long to realize that midday, they’d come inside and wolf down their ‘dinner’ as quickly as possible before leaving again. I started making sandwiches, wrapping them in a linen dishcloth, and leaving them as well as a bundle of cookies or slices of cake on a shelf in the refrigerator. Though the food wouldn’t be hot, they’d not have to come in from the fields to eat. They each thanked me that first evening, laying the folded, empty cloths on the counter. And while they did return for supper, I could see the fatigue weighing down their shoulders. Conversation would be focused around the land, and the progress of the cabin and other structures in need of repair.
Despite their thanks for the meals prepared or a refill of their plates at the table, it seemed like the brothers steered clear of me, and I’d found myself doing my best to do the same. But that didn’t mean I could avoid them inside my head. I was constantly journeying down memory lane, wondering what would have happened if Banks and I hadn’t been interrupted that morning. I pondered the looks I’d catch Banks casting my way, as if he were contemplating some great mystery. Memories of Jay and Rye, the feel of their cocks filling me, the demands made that my body seemed all too eager to obey, were constant companions.
Thinking of the brothers as I worked the dough, I wondered if the fire we’d once had, had simmered down. Was the chemistry I’d felt with each one nothing more than lust? Once they’d taken me, if only for a mere sample as with Banks, had that been enough to satisfy any curiosity they might have had? Was I so gullible as to believe I’d been more than just a fuck? I was actually grateful the chores never seemed to end; telling myself the brothers’ sexual needs were substituted with exhaustion.
I knew that I never had a moment to spare. I had never worked so hard in my life, so by the time sunset fell, I should have been able to keep my eyes open barely long enough to undress and collapse into bed. So why did I find myself lying there, my body cradled by the softness of the sheets, the sweet scent of roses filling the air while I wished I was in the arms of a Barrett brother, the aroma of pure maleness surrounding me as his cock, his mouth, his hands commanded my body?
I paused a moment, attempting to blow a stray ringlet off my forehead, but finally reached up and brushed it away with the back of my flour-coated hand, remembering how Banks had tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before his head had lowered and his lips had pressed against mine. A soft moan escaped me, my body responding, remembering how it had felt like I was being claimed with nothing more than a kiss. Shaking the memory away, knowing it was just that, a memory, I lifted my shoulders up and down a few times to ease the strain of making bread from scratch on top of all the other chores of the morning. I might not be able to ease the sexual ache in my body, but at least I could attempt to loosen my muscles, tight from life on the mountain.
“I warned you it was going to be hard work. We never tried to hide that fact from you.”
I jumped at the sound of Banks’ voice. My face flooded with heat as I turned to see he’d come into the kitchen. I wondered if he somehow knew my thoughts. His baseball cap rested on his head just enough to shield the depths of his eyes. Even without trying, he exuded sex appeal and my nipples tightened, pressed against the bodice of my dress.
“And I told you I wasn’t afraid of it.”
I had no idea why he was here at this time of day without his brothers and didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, I had no idea how to even act. I felt like some insecure girl, so aware of his intense masculinity, but terrified he found me not worthy of his time. It was easier to turn my back and return my attention to bread making.
I heard his boots crossing the floor and then felt his presence behind me. Banks placed one of his hands on each of my shoulders, and began to give a gentle massage. “I know how tired you are.” He continued to massage as he spoke, causing me to give a soft moan and revel in the delightful feeling. “I know I haven’t told you, but I couldn’t ask for more. You’ve been amazing these past few weeks. You truly are making this place a home. My brothers and I talk about it all the time. We couldn’t have done this without you.”
I turned to face him, my eyes searching his. They talked about me? Did that include discussions about what I’d done with two of his brothers? Did it truly matter? My question from before, the one asking if the fire between us had extinguished, had been answered. From the moment he’d arrived, spoken, touched me, all I wanted to do was to melt into his body.
Banks took a deep breath and a large step backward. “I want to take you somewhere. Clean up and meet me outside in five minutes.”
“What about supper, your brothers and Kit?”
“My brothers decided to take Kit into town like she’s been begging them to do. They will eat supper there, and I decided to surprise you with a picnic. It’s the least I can do for all your hard work. You and Kit both need a break and our show of thanks.”