His Defiant Wife, the Adventures of Linnett Wainwright, Book 2 (5 page)

“So what are
you going to name her?” Sarah asked her as the two women walked
back to the house after stabling and settling Linnett’s new mare.
“Oh that’s easy: Amber! Because of her colour,” Linnett told her
happily.

“My, but you’re
a happier soul than left here this morning!” Sarah noted.

“I am, and it
isn’t just the horse you know, Sarah, although I just cannot get
over John buying her for me! It’s... well John and I talked. Really
talked
about...well everything!”

Sarah patted
her friend’s arm “I’m so glad Linnett! He is a lovely man, your
husband. We are lucky women to have found such men as your John and
my Hans.”

She linked her
arm through Linnett’s.

“Yes, you’re
right. We are lucky and John is a lovely man,” Linnett replied
happily. They smiled warmly at each other and walked in
companionable silence back to the house for supper.

Later that
evening Sarah and Linnett had the patterns and materials spread
across the table ready to make a start on the warm winter clothes
they would need in the coming months.

John and Hans
sat in front of the fire across the room talking of the snippets of
political news they had gleaned from Mr. Penman that day. It seemed
that various skirmishes had broken out with the British troops
based in Boston and ill feeling bred among the local people against
the British. As they worked together Linnett answered Sarah’s
questions about the trip into town.

Sarah shook her
head sadly over the tale of the hanging. “That poor girl and yes,
the poor lad, too. What a savage place the world is, Linnett.”

The two women
worked in silence for a while, each with her own sad thoughts,
until Linnett reached out a hand and placed it over Sarah’s, saying
impulsively, “I do wish John and I could spend the winter here with
you and Hans. I will miss you so much Sarah!”

Sarah smiled
warmly at her young friend.

“Aye, I’ll miss
you, too.” She reached out and gave Linnett a swift hug. “It
wouldn’t work though, Linnett. You have no idea of the strain a
long winter places on you. To be snowed in for days at a time. I
use that time to teach Peter his lessons. If you stayed Peter
wouldn’t concentrate and neither would I. Probably you and I would
be at each other’s throats by the end of the winter. It’s much
better for you to be up at the cabin.

“You and John
can have your privacy and get to know one another really well.
Actually it’s the one thing I like about the winter. Hans and I
seem to bond again in the enforced closeness of the winter
months.”

Linnett smiled
sadly at her friend and nodded. “I do understand,” she said but she
didn’t.

John shut the
door of their bedroom, walked to the bed and reached underneath to
pull out a package. “For you. Happy nineteenth birthday!” he said
smiling.

Linnett turned,
surprised “My birthday was a month ago!”

“I know, but
you were too ill to know about it then.”

“What is it?”
Linnett asked curiously.

“Why don’t you
open it and see?” John sat on the edge of the bed and watched as
Linnett tore it open revealing the soft, shimmering folds of green
velvet that she had so admired in Mr. Penman’s shop.

“But how did
you guess?” Linnett asked, amazed.

“Mr. Penman. I
asked him to take note of anything that you particularly liked.”
John smiled “Are you pleased?” he asked.

“
Pleased
? John of course! But I wish I had a gift for you.”
Linnett flung her arms around her husband’s neck.

“Oh I’m sure if
I put my mind to it, I could think of something I want,” John said
dryly, eyes narrowing as he reached out and drew her to him, his
hands sliding down to her tender bottom cheeks and squeezing them
gently as he pressed her body to his. Linnett sighed as the heat
from her smarting bottom seemed to curl exquisitely through her
loins and she melted sensuously against John. She was ready to
thank her husband prettily for his gifts, and John wasted no time
in scooping his wife up and throwing her squealing onto their
bed.

The day that
John and Linnett left for the cabin dawned chilly but bright, the
sky pink with the early blush of dawn. They had loaded the wagon
the evening before so their goodbyes were heartfelt but brief. Hans
handed Linnett a package just as they were pulling away. Intrigued,
she opened it to find a lovely carved wooden horse, the lines so
smooth and fine it matched the real thing for perfection. Linnett
swung Amber around and cantered back to where Hans and Sarah stood.
Leaning down from the horse, she kissed Hans’ cheek and thanked him
with tears in her eyes before riding after the wagon and John.

John drove the
wagon with a cow tied onto the tail gate at the back and walking
reluctantly behind with Linnett astride Amber. Sarah turned her
head into her husband’s broad chest and wept as they disappeared
from sight. Linnett stopped and turned to wave at the distant
couple before they disappeared inside the farm house. The sense of
sadness dropped away as her natural exuberance and sense of
adventure bubbled to the surface.

She set Amber
to a gallop and raced the horse up the grassy slope ahead, feeling
a wonderful sense of freedom. John watched with admiration as woman
and horse gracefully merged as one. He wished that he could have
ridden beside her on horseback himself and not be tied to a
cumbersome wagon. He was pleased to see Linnett’s enjoyment with
the pretty mare and grinned to himself as he watched her racing
ahead.

The journey was
uneventful and they reached the cabin before dusk. Linnett went
straight to the cabin and unlocked the heavy door. She was rather
shocked at the total lack of rooms. One large space was not what
she had expected, but it was sturdily made and looked draft
proof.

Hans had
visited the place on a couple of occasions to prepare the cabin for
the young couple and it was swept and relatively clean. He had
refurbished it where necessary and placed rag rugs, homemade by
Sarah, on the floor. A lantern hung from the ceiling and a large
lamp sat on the table by the side of the large, sturdy wooden bed.
The door banged open behind her as John struggled in with armloads
of household items.

“Where do you
want these? I think they are mainly bed covers and such.”

Linnett took a
pile from him, “Put them all on the bed!” She dropped the pile of
quilts down, and John followed suit. It took them a couple of hours
to get reasonably straight and then to feed and bed down the
animals.

The cabin was
as organised as it could be, at least for that night. John lit the
stove to heat the stew that Sarah had made for their first night
together in the cabin. At last, they fell exhausted into bed and
slept dreamlessly until the first light of dawn. Linnett woke as
John was feeding the stove again. Although the sun shone, the cabin
held a bitter chill.

“A sharp
frost,“ John called over his shoulder. “We must keep the stove in
at all times. From now on, if you leave the cabin even for a short
while, check the stove first!”

Linnett
shivered and snuggled back down into the quilts. John straightened
up and walked over to the bed, yanking the covers back, leaving
Linnett curled, shivering, in the centre of the bed.

“Oh no you
don’t!” he said, grabbing her ankle and hauling her over to the
side of the bed. “Up you get, lazy bones, I want some
breakfast!”

Linnett
squealed and tried to grab the covers back from him, but he held
them out of her reach with one hand and slapped her rump with the
other, “Up!” he ordered again. She smacked his offending hand away
and got up, hurriedly wrapping her robe around her. “Bully!” she
muttered as she banged a pan onto the stove.

Linnett spent a
busy morning rearranging the furniture to suit herself and storing
the spare bedding into chests. She put supplies of jars and dried
goods onto the shelves, made dough and set it to rise, hung
curtains at the windows, placed cushions and hung some brightly
coloured woollen shawls, which Sarah had knitted, over the back of
the two wooden rocking chairs. When John returned for lunch, he
looked around in astonishment, for Linnett had transformed the
cabin into a welcoming and cosy nest.

They ate a
lunch of pickled eggs from a jar packed by Sarah, meant to last
them until their own three chickens had settled into their new home
and started laying; the eggs were accompanied by freshly baked
bread and some of Sarah’s delicious cheese.

“I really
wonder how we will manage when Sarah’s generous supply of food
stock has gone,” Linnett confided ruefully.

“Hmm,” John
looked thoughtful. “We should have our own eggs. The chickens won’t
lay regularly through the winter months, but we do have enough
vinegar for you to pickle some. Did Sarah show you how to make
butter and cheese?” he queried.

Linnett looked
uncomfortable. “Well, yes,” she said doubtfully. “I am not sure I
will be able to get it right, though.”

John smiled at
her and said, “We can have a practice together and see what we can
produce.”

Linnett nodded,
relieved, “I am sure it will be fun!” she said brightly.

John looked
anxiously at her. Did she not realise how much hard work was ahead
of them if they were to stock the larder before the snows came?

“Ye-es....but
there will be a lot of hard work if we are to stay fed all winter.
I want to hunt for a couple of days and stock up on meat. We will
have to smoke it so that it will stay fresh, although once it
freezes, meat will stay fresh if it is hung.

‘Before I leave
here, I need to mend the corral fences. Hans thinks that I should
take down that tree, the one near to the barn. It has grown quite
tall, and if a gale should blow it down, it could land on top of
the barn.”

Linnett looked
up. “Can you manage a tree that size all by yourself?” she
asked.

“Yes, I think
so. It’s not a thick trunk, but it is tall enough and heavy enough
to smash the roof of the barn should it fall. We can’t afford to
risk leaving it where it is so I will probably tackle it tomorrow
or the day after.”

With so much to
do, it took a couple of days before John finally found enough time
to cut down the tree. Linnett came out to watch as John, with ropes
tied around various places along the tree trunk, pulled and pulled
until the sweat stood out on his bare back. The tree stood
unmoving.

“What’s wrong?”
Linnett called as John walked over to her, wiping the sweat from
his brow with his discarded shirt.

“I think I need
to chop the notch in the trunk wider. The thing is, I don’t want
the damn tree to drop onto the barn if I should cut too deep and it
falls that way. I want to pull it so that it goes over in the other
direction.”

“Well then, I
can help you to pull, come on!” Linnett strode off towards the tree
without waiting for his reply.

John gave her
two of the ropes to hold. “Now no pulling until I say Linnett. If I
tell you to stop, then stop! Understood?” Linnett braced herself
with the ropes wrapped around from her back as John had shown her,
“I’m ready!” she called.

John stood in
position and took up his ropes. “Alright, now pull!” They strained
on the ropes, each leaning with all their strength. There was an
easing in the ropes and a groaning crack as the tree began to
break.

John shouted to
Linnett, “Run now to the left. Go!” They both threw themselves out
of the line of the falling tree, which fell with a satisfying crash
of cracking branches and falling leaves. Linnett squealed and
clapped her hands, running over to where the tree now lay, the
leaves still quivering.

John picked up
his shirt and, grinning hugely, walked the length of the tree.
Running his hands over the knotted bark of the now prone trunk, he
said, ‘There’s enough wood here to keep us warm all winter. It’s
very green right now but it should still burn.”

“What do you
mean by green wood?” Linnett asked him, seating herself up on the
fallen tree. “Green wood is unseasoned wood, it still has the sap
inside and so it burns with a lot of smoke. Wood should be left to
season for a year or so ideally before you use it for fire
wood.”

John stood with
his back to Linnett, naked to the waist, he surveyed the tree while
he talked. Linnett cast her eyes over her husband’s naked torso.
Beads of sweat stood out on the taut muscles of his shoulders and
she watched as a line of moisture trickled down to the base of his
spine and into the waist of his trousers.

John turned to
face her and caught the sultry look on her face. Flinging aside the
shirt in his hand he padded towards her, his body loose limbed with
a predatory lust. “Turn around and lift your skirts up,” he
growled, turning her shoulders so that she lay stomach down over
the felled tree.

Linnett
shuddered, excited but confused. Her mind raced over the past day
or so and could find no fault with herself that would require
punishment. However, she trembled with anticipation; what did John
have in mind?

John swept up
Linnett’s skirt and petticoats, exposing her shapely legs and
baring her curved and shapely bottom. He gazed lustily on the
provocative sight she presented. He ran his work rough hands up the
smooth skin, his palms outstretched so that his thumbs met the
delicious mound of her creamy buttocks; Linnett shivered with
desire.

John held the
two orbs of her buttocks in his hand and kneaded them, letting his
thumbs drop down between her legs where he felt a rush of liquid
heat. He spread her legs wide and dropped to his knees, pressing
his face into her glistening folds. Parting her with his tongue, he
worked his magic, making her hot and fierce with need.