17. Cherished
Chapter seventeen
Cherished
It took seven, but Kizzy scurried back to the now banked fire with the packed basket in hand. “Ready,” she cried, breathless.
“Well done,” said Clem with warm approval in her deep voice, returning from the wagon with a knapsack on one shoulder. She took the basket from her and said, “What a wonderful wife you are,” hugging her to her side. “A beautiful, clever, efficient woman.”
The praise was intoxicating. Kizzy received very little approval growing up, and that in small doses dealt out by a mother afraid to be labeled ‘permissive’ by judgmental church women. A shiver of gratification ran through her, and she developed an instant craving for more.
She hugged Clem tight around her waist. “That may be, but after almost three weeks on the trail I’m a very dirty wife,” she batted her eyelashes up at laughing eyes, “with an even dirtier husband.” She grinned. “Let’s go find that private place.”
Clem chuckled, leading the way down to the lake, easing brush aside for Kizzy to pass, holding out a steadying arm as they crossed unexpected dips and rises in the landscape, guiding her as they moved around the water’s edge.
By then, the noisy, carefree men had surrendered the lake, returning to their wagons to dry out and eat their dinners.
A cloudless sunset colored the still water, surrounding it with sheltering shadows beckoning from its darkened shore. As a peaceful dusk settled, they heard nothing but the loon’s haunting calls and the occasional splash of a fish.
“This is beautiful country.” Kizzy gestured around them.
“More and more farm folks are settling out here, so the U.S. is building forts along the way,” said Clem. “We should reach Fort Laramie in a week.”
“A fort,” she marveled, imagining tall wooden towers guarding stout walls enclosing a sturdy cavalry presence.
“Watch your step here,” said Clem, finding a small creek half-hidden with overgrown ferns and grass.
“I can hop from stone to stone to get across, but they’re rather wide apart,” she said, looking down at Kizzy’s skirt.
“Is that going to hobble you? I can carry you across, then come back and get our things.” She seemed only half joking.
“I do not need carrying,” Kizzy said with an indignant sniff. “If you can do it, I can do it.”
“Okay,” said Clem with a grin. “Follow me.”
With the light, sure steps of a dancer, Kizzy clutched her skirt above her knees and followed from rock to rock across the moving water. She hopped where Clem did and landed on the bank right behind her. “There,” she said. “That wasn’t so hard.” She took a breath. “Should we go much farther?”
“We’re already out of sight of the beach the men used earlier, but I want to go to a little bay I spotted while we were fishing. It’s up and around the bend there, see?”
Kizzy nodded, heading that way. She stopped, listening. “Oh, no. I hear splashing. Someone beat us there.” She sighed, disappointed. “We’ll have to find another spot.”
“Unless I’m very much mistaken,” said Clem, reaching a hand down from a large rock to help Kizzy clamber up, “we are alone.” She nodded at a sheltered pool at the base of a short waterfall where two tributaries joined before dropping into the lake below.
“I saw this from over there,” she pointed across the lake, “where we were fishing. It’s not marked on Cushing’s map, so no one traveling with us knows it’s here.
” With careful steps, she crossed a wide bed of dried river rock leading to the water.
“The sun has almost set but lucky us, it looks to be a long dusk and the air’s still warm.
Let’s undress and wash, because you’re right, there’s plenty of trail dust that needs to be scrubbed off.
I’ll wash your hair, and then we can sit on the rocks to towel off and dry.
” She reached into a hip pocket and pulled out a flask.
“I brought a little rum to ward off the chill.”
Kizzy’s eyes grew round. Drink the devil’s brew? She shuddered. I can’t do that.
Wait, why couldn’t she? Because she’d been told not to? She was a grown woman, married, and a long way from home. Kizzy could drink it if she wanted to.
Distracted, her mind wandered, wondering what sin tastes like. Sweet like champagne, or bitter as sacramental wine?
Clem’s lips lowered until they hovered just above Kizzy’s, regaining her attention. “Would you like help undressing?” She stayed where she was.
Kizzy didn’t move either, her lips parted a breath’s distance from Clem’s. She undid the buttons of her denim vest, stood on tiptoe, then closed in for a kiss.
A long moment later, Clem pushed the vest down her shoulders. It landed in a heap on the rocks. She tugged Kizzy’s blouse free of her skirt’s waistband, running cool hands across her heated skin, bare belly tingling in the night air.
Clem pulled her shirt up, held her arms high over her head, and stared at her breasts.
“I can’t finish undressing while you’re holding my wrists.
” Kizzy sent her a look that made Clem grin and toss the blouse aside.
Shimmying as her arms dropped, she grinned as Clem’s eyes once more focused on her breasts.
“Now, you better get started, because I’m almost in the water and you’re still dressed. ”
“Is this a race?”
“It is now.” Kizzy grinned. She loved a challenge and had no problem taking advantage of her head start. With deft fingers, she undid the skirt button at her waist.
“Wade in up to your knees,” instructed Clem, her vest and shirt off, long johns unbuttoned and dangling from her waist, “but wait for me before going farther.” Unwinding her wrappings while kicking the boots from her feet she said, “I can swim.”
“Wonderful!” cried Kizzy, dropping her skirt on the pile along with shoes and socks, bending to untie her holstered pistol.
“We can race across.” She put the gun down with care, then tugged on the drawstring of her bloomers, but they tangled.
Struggling with the stubborn knot, she watched as Clem dropped her pants, then shoved the rest of her long underwear down. “Hey wait. I’m stuck, that’s not fair.”
Clem reached over with a chuckle and gave the drawstring a sharp tug. It came undone, and Kizzy’s bloomers dropped around her ankles. “There you go.” Her hungry eyes swept over her.
Naked, Kizzy took three light steps and jumped, landing with a splash. “Oh!” she cried, shivering. “It’s cold. Get in here and warm me up.”
Clem made a comical face as she waded into the water up to mid-thigh. “Brrr… I never like getting in.”
“You get used to it pretty quick.” Kizzy laughed, watching her hop closer, using her muscular arms to push the water behind her, propelling herself forward.
“Did you bring the soft soap?” Clem asked, reaching water deep enough to swim, using an easy breaststroke to stalk Kizzy.
She swam away, still floating on her back with both bare breasts glistening in the pearl gray light of dusk, keeping out of arm’s reach.
“I did, but it’s all the way over there in the basket,” she said, pointing.
Then she gulped some air, used a stone underfoot to launch herself as high as she could, and arched forward into a dive, darting past her surprised lover.
A few swift butterfly strokes, making sure her bare bottom flashed up and down in the water, brought her to standing depth.
“Now that’s swimming,” conceded Clem, moving closer. “And showing off.”
“No, I didn’t,” laughed Kizzy, climbing out of the natural pool.
“I could have held my breath and stayed down for almost a minute, but…” she looked down in the pool at Clem staring up at her with admiration, “I didn’t want you to worry, and then drown trying to ‘save’ me when I was just showing off. ”
“Saving me from myself, huh?” Clem shook her head.
“You already know me better than I know myself.” She laughed, watching naked Kizzy empty their basket.
“Come on, clever woman. We’ve got a lot of trail to wash off.
” She ducked her handsome head backward, wetting her hair and shaking it, grinning through the droplets running down her face.
Does she know how good-looking she is? Kizzy stared at that magical smile. Sometimes she couldn’t believe Clem was her lover, let alone her husband.
With some squealing, a little tickling, and a lot of kissing, they managed to clean themselves and each other.
After lathering, they spent an enchanting few minutes under the waterfall rinsing, kissing, and repeating.
Once clean, they swam a few races to warm up, both impressed with the other’s skill.
They floated in each other’s arms as a waning crescent moon ascended into the dark sky.
“Let’s go, my beauty,” said Clem, swimming toward the shore. “We need to get dry before it gets too cold. I’ll brush your hair.”
“That sounds nice,” said Kizzy. She followed, toweled off, and then pulled fresh clothes from the basket. As she started to dress, though, Clem stopped her.
“Not those,” she said, taking her fresh bloomers from her. “These,” she held out the scandalous French wedding pantaloons.
Kizzy blushed and looked up.
Even in the muted moonlight, Clem’s eyes glittered. “Please wear these for me.”
“You want me to look like a slut?” She shook her head.
“I want you,” Clem ran warm hands up and down her arms, making Kizzy tremble, “to tease me. Only you and I will know what you’re wearing under your skirt.” She pulled her close and whispered, “I love how you look in them.” Clem nipped her earlobe while patting her bottom, making her moan.
Kizzy stepped into the legs of the frou-frou undies, tied the front strings, and reached for the two in back.
Clem’s firm hands brushed hers away and tied them. “I don’t want any tangles later.” The same hands circled around to cup her breasts and hard nipples, squeezing them with a familiar light touch.
Kizzy shivered, heat shooting to her center.