Grace & the Mystery Rider

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Nineteenth century woman is rescued by a stranger.
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Grace threw all one hundred ten pounds of herself into the plow, clumsily guiding it as she plowed another furrow in the rich Oregon soil. She spoke to Jesse, the Belgian gelding pulling the plow, more for her own encouragement than to urge on the horse. At the end of the furrow, she stopped to catch her breath and opened her blouse to cool herself. Even though Grace was only twenty five, she was soaked with sweat and winded by the time they reached the end of each furrow, and needed the short rest in order to continue.

She took off her blouse for a time, exposing her firm, round breasts to the air, feeling the warm air and sun on her bare skin as she wiped the sweat from between them with her handkerchief. No one lived closer than a days buggy drive, so she had stopped wearing anything under the blouse to make exposing herself easier. Grace lifted the long, coal black hair from her neck to allow the cooling breeze to caress her neck and closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. She would be able to finish plowing tomorrow, and then work the soil down and plant the five acres over the next week. This five acres of corn would feed her, Jesse and Molly, her milk cow, through the next year, and would leave enough to sell for a few bare essentials. At the end of the day, after a meager meal of the rest of yesterdays rabbit, corn meal mush, and coffee, Grace fell into bed aching and tired. As she waited for sleep to come, her mind wandered back to other times, when she had been more concerned about sewing dresses than planting corn.

Grace was the fruit of the love between her Irish father and her half English/half Iroquois mother; although few people knew of her mothers Native American heritage. From her mother, Grace had inherited her small delicate frame and raven black hair, and her knowledge of nature. Her father had given her an independent spirit and steel will. Grace had married Jacob two years ago, after waiting long past the weddings of her friends in the small town in Ohio where she lived. Grace had waited for a man she truly loved before giving herself, but her selection was limited. Jacob was a hard worker, and had inherited some money, and after insistent urgings from her mother, she had given in.

Her father provided five hundred dollars as a dowry, and Grace and Jacob set up house on his family farm, along with his two brothers. It wasn’t that Jacob was a bad man; she just had hoped for the full feeling of true love to tell her that this man was the right one for her. Their first year was filled with the exploration of their relationship and plans for the future. They learned each other’s bodies, though she did not become pregnant as she had hoped. She assumed that children would come in good time, and concentrated on making a good home for her husband. In early spring, Jacob had decided to seek their fortune in Oregon. After selling his interest in the farm to his brothers, they made the trek to Oregon with two belgian horses named Jesse and Jake, a milk cow she named Molly, six oxen and one thousand dollars cash.

The first six months in Oregon had been good for her. They sold the oxen, and bought fifteen acres of rich valley farmland. She and Jacob built a small cabin and barn, plowed and planted ten acres, and made love often. She loved the feel of Jacob’s hands on her, and even though she always felt that she was missing something after he finished, the thought of bringing a child into their world left her feeling warm and fulfilled after their love making. Somedays, when Jacob was working and couldn’t see, she would touch her body as he did, and remember. She never allowed herself more than a few touches; she thought only bad girls did that, but every month, there were days that her inner feelings told her that her body was ripe for giving life to a baby, and the touches felt so wonderful that it was hard to stop.

In the fall of that year, Jacob started making trips to town on Saturday, often not returning until the next day. When he did come home, he smelled of whisky, and sometimes lavender. He told her he was buying supplies for the winter, but he never brought home much more than a sack of flour or sugar, or some rifle shells. Then one day, Jacob did not come home. The next afternoon, the sheriff rode out to tell her that Jacob had been shot by a drifter while in the company of Sarah, the town saloon keeper. Grace had thought it fitting to have him buried in the “drifter” section of the cemetery, as penance for his sins. She had to spend most of their last two hundred dollars for winter supplies, but she didn’t sell the farm, and she didn’t take Sarah’s offer of a job in the saloon. After a few good cries, she spent the winter planning how to make it on her own. She needed to succeed, if only to show herself she could.

This spring, she had sold Jake to buy seed and more supplies. She could only plant half of the land with one horse, but she figured that would be enough. Today, she looked with satisfaction at what she had done, put on her blouse, and started the next furrow. As she neared the end of the patch the late morning quiet was shattered by a rifle shot. Jesse lunged against the plow, and the right trace broke, causing the plow to jerk to the left. As Grace fell, the plow handle struck her on the right temple, and after a few stars, everything went black.

Grace woke with a severe headache. Raising a slender hand to her temple, she was surprised to find a cool cloth placed there. She tried to rise, but fell back, overwhelmed by the dizzying pain. When she opened her eyes, she saw she was in the cabin, on the bed, and it was after sundown. A deep voice in the distance said “Well, you’ve finally come back. I was starting to worry.”

As fear overtook her, she again tried to rise, but firm hands pressed her back on the bed, and the voice said, “Don’t think you’re ready to get up yet. Better stay there for a while. Want some water or coffee, or something else?”

“Water”, she croaked, surprising herself by both the tone of her voice, and by the apparent volume.

Finding that she could move her hands and arms without pain, she felt around herself, and felt the quilt that covered her. Reaching under the quilt, she found she was still clothed.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t take advantage or anything. I just brought you inside and laid you down. Here’s some water. Slow now.”

A hand raised her head, and she felt the cup touch her lips. She drank a little, and her dry throat felt better. Her headache seemed better, and she tried to sit up. Strong hands helped her to rise.

She found she could see now, and saw a man sitting on the edge of her bed, holding her upright. Focusing on his face, she saw dark hair under a beatup hat, and a pleasant face with tiny crowsfeet at the corners of the eyes. The face smiled and said “Feeling better?”

“Who are you”, she demanded, her head instantly making her regret how loud she had spoken. Then, in a quieter voice, “How did I get here?’

“I had just topped the rise north of here when I saw you fall. When I got to you, you were out cold, so I carried you in here. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for the last six hours.”

“Jesse. Got to put him up.”

“So that’s his name. Don’t worry about your horse. Right now, he’s grazing and taking it easy. I unharnessed him, and cooled him out first. He’s fine.”

“You didn’t tell me who you are.”

“My name is Justin. I had shot a deer, and it ran toward your place. I was following it when I saw you.”

Grace knew she was feeling better, because she was suddenly hungry. At that moment, she smelled the rich aroma of meat and vegetables on the fire.

“I did find the deer, by the way. I have a stew cooking, if you’re hungry. I found a few potatoes and carrots in your root cellar, and picked some wild onions. I cook pretty well, if I say so myself. I also made some coffee, if you’re ready for that.”

She ate like a starving woman, and when full, was suddenly very tired.

Justin saw her fatigue, and said, “Go ahead to bed. Bolt the door behind me. I’ll be in the barn if you need me tonight.” He set the stewpot close enough to the fire to stay warm, put the coffee pot on the table, and walked out the door.

Grace woke the next morning still in her clothes from yesterday; at least she thought she was awake. The events she remembered made it difficult to tell. She remembered falling, and then waking up with a man who cared for her, brought her water, fed her, and then walked out. That couldn’t have really happened. She smelled hot coffee on the fire. She placed her hand to her temple, and yelped with pain when she found the bump. Yes, it must have really happened. Where was he now? What was she going to do? What was he going to do? She saw the rifle in it’s usual place, picked it up, and checked for shells. Putting the rifle under her arm, and feeling a little more secure, she walked to the cabin door and opened it. There was the man, leading Jesse in harness, toward her corn patch. When he saw her, he smiled and said, “If you shoot me now, you’ll have to finish this plowing by yourself. I’d wait ‘til it’s done if I were you.” He clucked to Jesse, and drove him to where the plow still lay imbedded in the soil. After hooking up the traces, he began plowing.

As Grace looked on in disbelief, Justin plowed furrow after furrow through the patch. It looked so easy when he did it. She saw that he was taller than she, but not what most people would consider tall. His build was trim, but one of a man who is accustomed to physical labor; not over developed, but with muscles hardened by constant use. As she watched Justin guiding the plow, a tingle ran through her body, a feeling from the distant past that she had forgotten ever existed. “You don’t know anything about him, not even his last name,” she told herself. “Just let him finish, and let him get out of here.”

The field was soon plowed, and Justin hitched Jesse to the harrow. Shortly after noon, the field was ready to plant. After walking Jesse to cool him out, Justin came to the cabin. “If you left any of the stew, I could use some dinner. If we work fast, we can get your planting done by tomorrow,” he said.

When the planting was finished, Justin got on his horse and rode away. Grace was still didn’t know him, where he came from, where he went, or even his last name. He was just a friendly helper from somewhere, who came at the right time. Soon he was just a memory altered by her need, appearing late at night, while she was waiting for sleep.

The corn sprouted, and soon Grace was busy hoeing weeds. She planted her kitchen garden, and then weeded that. The summer before, she had taken Molly to a rancher to be bred, and Molly now presented her with a fine heifer calf. The first time Grace saw the calf, her repressed desire for children was reborn, and she spent hours watching the tiny animal. Often, when alone with the calf, she would think again of Justin, wondering where he was. As the calf suckled her finger, she would touch her breasts and hips and imagine Justin were there.

Grace’s life had returned to normal, for her at least, when Jesse somehow broke the gate on the corral, and ran away. When she discovered Jesse was gone, she was beside herself with worry, both for Jesse and for herself. Without Jesse, she could not plow, could not get to town in the fall to sell her corn; she was now as isolated as if she were on an island, and had no money to buy another horse. She also missed Jesse. He called to her every morning, and nuzzled her cheek when she brought him wild crabapples, or a handful of grass. Grace called and called, then searched and searched, but Jesse was gone. That night, she tried to think of some solution, but finding none, broke down in tears for the first time since Jacob was killed.

Early the next morning, she arose, and went to check on Molly and Maggie, as she had named the heifer. On her way to the barn, she heard the neigh Jesse always used to greet her. Looking toward the sound, she saw a horse and rider with Jesse in tow approaching her. She ran all the way to Jesse, hugged his neck, and with tears in her eyes, told him how bad he had been, how much she had missed him, and how glad she was to have him back. Then she noticed the rider, now standing beside her. The same beatup hat, same face; it was Justin.

“I was riding about two hours from here when I saw this old fella grazing away. I thought it might be Jesse, and when I got close, it proved to be him. I knew how much you need him, so I brought him back. He looks glad to see you, and you sure are glad to see him.”

“This is twice you have saved me, Justin. I feel that I owe you for that, but I have nothing to give.”

“Well, a cup of coffee and supper would be payment enough.” He lifted six rabbits from his saddle horn. “Maybe these would be a start.”

After a supper of roast rabbit, fresh wild greens, and some new potatoes from her garden, they sat over a cup of coffee and talked about their first meeting, how the corn was doing, and anything else Grace could get him to talk about. She didn’t want him to leave. Finally, Justin said, “well, its getting late. Could I use your barn again? I’ll leave early in the morning, so don’t get up.” When Grace said yes, he stood up and walked toward the door, saying, “Don’t forget to use the bolt. I don’t want you to be worried.” The next morning, he was gone.

Soon it was fall, and the corn was ready to harvest. Grace picked all the corn, shucked it, and then divided it as corn for her and the animals, and corn she would sell. The next day, she set out for town. The harvest had been good, and she would have enough money to make it through the winter, with maybe a little left over. She was in good spirits for the first hour of the four hour trip. Then, the wagon hit a rock, and the wheel broke. Grace fell out of the wagon, but except for a few scrapes, was not hurt. What did hurt was the fact that she had no way to fix the wheel, and without the wagon, no way to get to town. Grace was in the process of crying again when a familiar voice said, “Need some help?”

“Justin, how... why...?”

“Just riding by and saw a wagon in trouble. Didn’t know it was you until I got closer and saw you crying.”

Justin fixed the wheel, and drove her the rest of the way into town. Grace sold her corn, bought supplies for the winter, and they headed back. It was after dark when they drove up to the cabin, and the air was turning cold. She asked Justin to come in and have a cup of coffee, and he accepted.

“Justin, how is it that whenever I’m in real trouble, you always show up to help?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess, or maybe it’s me that’s lucky. Saving ladies in trouble is a favorite job of mine,” he laughed. “It looks like you have done well for yourself, Grace. You have enough to get you through the winter, and next year you’ll have your heifer to sell. I’m proud of you.”

“You’re proud of me? Why? “

“You are fighting a big fight for such a small lady, and you are winning. You are winning all by yourself, and... “

“Except for when you rescue me from disaster,” said Grace.

“I enjoy that part,” said Justin. “I like you, Grace,” he said softly.

Grace rose from her chair, took his hand, and looked into his face. “Tonight, you can’t stay in my barn. Tonight, I need you to stay with me. Please?”

Justin stood, and encircled her with strong, but gentle arms. He looked into her eyes, and then kissed her, softly at first, and then firmly as she responded to his lips. Grace felt soft brushings on her lips by his tongue, something Jacob had never done. To her surprise, her lips opened by themselves and her tongue met his, touching and tasting and then tingling. A great warmth started low in her belly, and filled her entire body, sensations she had only come close to with Jacob, or at her own tentative touching with her hands. Justin pressed her firmly against him as they kissed, and the feeling of his hardened body touching her made her weak.

Justin withdrew his mouth and easily picked her up. He carried her to the bed, sat her on the edge, and turned down the quilts. As he kissed her again, that same firm, gentle kiss, and as his tongue explored hers, Justin unfastened the buttons of her dress. She released her embrace and allow him to slip the dress off her shoulders. Still kissing her, Justin separated their bodies slightly, allowing the top of the dress to fall to Grace’s waist. He gradually worked the dress over her full rounded hips, and it sank to the floor.

Grace now stood in chemise and bloomers. She felt Justin’s hands on her back again, hugging her before they started to trace her flanks and hips. As he lifted and separated her hips, a shiver ran through her body, and she tightened her embrace, forcing her breasts into his chest, and loving the feel of his coarse shirt on her silk covered nipples.

Justin’s hands moved back to her flanks, then found the outsides of her breasts. He began to gently stroke toward, but not touching her nipples, sometimes moving to stroke the undersides, sometimes gently squeezing. As she attempted to hold him closer, he eased his hand between them, and touched one nipple through the silk. Grace sighed at the touch, and eased her embrace to allow him to touch her more easily. His fingers began to trace small circles around each nipple, now and then brushing gently over the tip. Grace felt the touch, and also began to feel a tightening deep in her belly, a tightening that forced her to slightly open her legs. Pushing Justin away, and breathing deeply, she began to remove his shirt. Opening all the buttons, she pushed the material away, and pressed her cheek against his chest. Bringing her hands to his sides, she stroked the muscles from his back to his sides. She raised her mouth to meet his, and stroked his chest, feeling the muscles flex as she did.

Justin lifted the chemise, and as the silk brushed her nipples, Grace gasped with pleasure. She slipped her arms from the garret, and allowed Justin to lift it over her head. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of the bloomers, she worked them over her hips, and dropped them to the floor. She reached to unbuckle Justin’s belt, and after unbuttoning his jeans, pulled them to his ankles, her eyes just seeing the dim outline of his manhood in the dim light from the cabin window. Grace laid back on the bed as Justin slipped out of his boots. As he slid under the quilts with her, she threw her leg over his body and pressed her body to his.

Justin kissed her again, and stroked her now naked breast. As he came to the nipple, he slightly rolled it between his fingers, forcing a muffled moan from Grace. His other hand caressed from the small of her back to her hips and back. His finger found the separation between her cheeks, and traced the line down to the undercurve of her hips, outlining each one before returning to her back. Grace began to push against his fingers as he traced the separation, wanting a firmer touch.

Justin gently rolled Grace to her back, and brought his mouth to one erect nipple, suckling it gently. His tongue rasped the tip, then traced over the small erect bumps on the dark circle around the nipple. The sensation in Grace’s belly became more intense than she had ever felt before, and she felt moisture between the lips of her womanhood. Justin took the other nipple in his mouth, and as she moaned from the pleasure of his mouth, his hand found her softly rounded belly. His hand slid down to the soft, black hair covering her mound, and as he found the lips at her entrance, she separated her thighs to give him access. His fingers traced the outer lips, feeling them swell at the sensation. As he stroked up and down, the lips swelled, revealing her inner petals to his touch. When he stroked deeper, the inner petals enlarged and strained to open.

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