Kept

The 44-caliber slug killed it instantly. I loaded the carcass on the horse, took the reins and walked the horse back into camp. It served as an attraction to all the young boys following me and peppering me with questions as I dressed out the deer.

---"Are you a pistoleer, mister?"

---"Can I see your guns?"

---"Is that a real Bowie knife?"

They looked in fascination as I prepared the hide for tanning, sheering the hide with the razor-sharp knife crafted long ago by James Black of Washington, Arkansas.

I sent Willi to Herman Kohrs' wagon with a ham from the freshly killed deer to trade for some milk from their cow so I could marinade the venison. I sent Gretchen with an invitation to Megan and Kate to join us for supper.

They arrived as I was pulling the steaks off the fire, bearing the gift of a large can of peaches. I was pleased to hear both women praising my cooking as we speared out the peaches during dessert. Willi and Gretchen took turns slurping the syrup out of the can.

"Zeb Russell, if you pleasure a woman half as good as you cook, then I'm proposing right now!" Kate declared.

Then she turned to Megan, "Don't worry, honey, I'm not poaching your man; leastwise, not until you throw him away!"

Kate turned to me with kind tears in her eyes, "Thank you, Zeb for your invitation. You don't know what it means to a woman with a reputation of being kept...Well, I guess I better be heading back. Mike gets antsy when I'm not making money. God knows what he thinks he's going to spend it on out here," she griped.

As I strapped the deer hide to the ribs of the Conestoga wagon's cover to cure, I watched Megan produce a tortoise shell comb, sit Gretchen in her lap and began brushing her hair. Gretchen snuggled happily in her lap as Megan sang a soft Celtic song. The domesticity struck me as I looked from my vantage point.

Willi was smiling as he re-spliced a rope needed to lash the water barrel securely to the wagon. Gretchen got out of Megan's lap, took the comb from Megan and began combing and fussing over Megan's hair as she sat still at the fire with a beatific smile.

I realized I wanted this. I wanted this more than I wanted riches. I wanted the love of a good woman and family. I wanted to enjoy each day in their company. I wanted to hold and kiss this beautiful Irish lass. I wanted to feel and taste her as my hands caressed her. My cock, always hardened at Megan's appearance, strove to more painful stiffness and I knew my relief would be to sneak in the woods late at night and jerk off as I fantasized about Megan.

I climbed into my bedroll that night and saw that Gretchen was still awake. In the quiet dark, I heard her soft whisper, "Mutter." It didn't take much to realize what that translated to in English.

For the next two weeks, we were in a blissful pattern. Megan would appear for breakfast. She would cook while Willi and I attended to the wagons and Gretchen to the oxen. During the evening, she would come back, sometimes with Kate and spend the evening with us. She would leave with a goodnight kiss to Gretchen and Willi. She would drop her face when she saw me staring at her. She knew I wanted a kiss as well. They would watch her depart, as would I. We would all be a little sadder at her being gone.

The next evening, Gretchen sat in Megan's lap for their now accustomed grooming session. I walked over with the cured deer hide, placed the hide on the ground, and held Gretchen's feet on it. I then carefully traced her feet with my sharp knife cutting through the hide with ease.

Without permission, I unbuckled Megan's shoes and pulled them off her feet. The unanticipated treasure of seeing her dainty bare feet wanted me to seize the moment and undress her.

I barely heard her shocked protests and was intent on ignoring them as I fought the temptation to move my hand up her calf, to her thigh, to her... I shook myself to focus to the task at hand and traced her feet on the hide with my knife.

I went to a neutral corner as Megan grumbled while she re-buckled her shoes and went back to attending to Gretchen. As the evening wound to a close, Megan was saying her farewells to the kids. She glared at me as I approached, still unforgiven for my unpermitted touch.

I held out the two pairs of moccasins, one for Gretchen and the other for Megan. Megan's eyes lit in surprise. Gretchen squealed as she took them from me, put them on and began running around in delight.

Megan walked to my side, my trespass against her forgiven as she watched Gretchen prancing about.

"Zeb, look how happy she is!" Megan's arm came around my back as she held on to me. She looked up at me and gazed into my eyes. I pulled her into me and her lips parted preemptory.

"She's welcomed. She's very welcomed." I said as I kissed her. The touch and taste of her lips were exactly as I imagined. A taste of heaven.

I moved harder and deeper to her as the flames of my passion ignited. We kissed again and again as she firmly clenched me. When we broke for air, we were surprised by Willi and Gretchen grinning ear to ear. We reluctantly separated and said goodnight to each other.

As Megan left she went to Gretchen and asked for Gretchen's moccasins. Gretchen complied, even though under protest, and Megan left with them.

I looked at the beaming couple of kids and said good naturedly at them, "Shut up," as I handed Willi his pair of moccasins. That night in the still darkness, I heard Gretchen whisper, "Vater und Mutter." That didn't need translation, either.

Breakfast came and we all waited for Megan. She walked in wearing her moccasins. She held Gretchen's out to her and the child gasped. Colorful beadwork adorned them in a pattern reminiscent to how Comanche women dressed theirs. Megan's were done in the same pattern. Megan had spent the entire night preparing Gretchen's gift.

Gretchen gave a yell that likely woke the entire camp. She scrambled to put them on and then put her foot side by side to Megan's. She said, "Thank you, Mutter!" and then impulsively kissed her. Megan choked up at hearing Gretchen calling her mother.

Gretchen ran to her oxen and stuck her foot out and pointed at her moccasin. "Look, bastard ochsen!" she demanded. The oxen obediently moved around her and lowered their great heads to admire Gretchen's footwear.

Megan and I stood watching Gretchen interact with the oxen. They soon walked off following Gretchen, marching them to the creek calling them goddamn fool-beasts.

"She thinks they are her pets!" Megan said in wonder.

"They think they are her pets!" I replied as I watched Megan. "I'm glad you like the moccasins."

"Yes, they are so comfortable!"

"Maybe you'll be wearing them when we get to California and I sell my goods and start my store. After that, I intend to see you wearing a band of gold I'll give you."

Well there it was. I wasn't suited for high-falutin honey talk. I fumbled out my proposal out as quick as I could. Then I waited. Each heartbeat was an eternity.

Megan blanched and looked away worried,

"I...I...I have to leave!" she weakly stammered and quickly walked, then broke into a run away from me. That night, Megan didn't show at my wagon.

I was in a foul mood the next morning. Megan failed to show at breakfast and the kids were tentatively around me. They quickly went to their daily tasks as I put away the camping gear I used to cook a breakfast that tasted like ashes to me.

Herman Kohrs walked up to me. During the past few weeks, I had warmed up to him and others as Megan worked a miracle on me. Now, I sourly waited to see what he had in store for me.

"I have to talk to you, Herr Russell. It is about the wagon of kept women on this wagon train. You know that all are headed west to be married." He spoke it like a question.

"Yes," I bitterly answered, "I just had my teeth kicked in last night proposing to one."

Kohrs winced, "Ja, the beautiful one. Everyone watched the two of you for weeks wondering what would happen once you found out."

"Find out what, Kohrs!" I sniped at the scared man.

You mean you don't know? The girl... she is already married!"

The shock stunned me. I staggered back to lean on my wagon for support. My eyes teared up in pain and sorrow.

"She married before setting off on the wagon train. She married a Mormon businessman and is going to Utah to be with her husband. He has two other wives to do all the housework. The girl is supposed to be just his bed partner."

Kohrs continued to rattle on about the prosperous lecherous sixty-year-old man marrying Megan by proxy while she still lived with her mother in Chicago. The husband deemed that he couldn't waste the time to go to Illinois, so a ceremony in absentia was performed. Then Megan was ordered to Missouri to join the wagon train to take her to her husband.

To this day, I don't recall anything about that day's journey. The fog of shock shut down my system. I remember crawling directly into my bedroll without even preparing supper. Willi and Gretchen looked worried about me. Late that night, I heard a whisper that woke me.

"Zeb?" Megan whispered again standing outside my tent. She had to know I was awake from the break in my breathing pattern. I remained still and silent. A few minutes I heard her sob and walk away. Then I heard Gretchen crying from her bedroll. I stayed awake the rest of the night.

At morning, I resolved to put it behind me, but the listless attitude pervaded in all three of us as we muddled through the day. That evening we had a guest.

"I need to talk to you, Zeb," said a concerned Kate. We walked to the outskirts of the camp.

"Meagan is heartbroken, she is crying all the time, and she isn't eating."

"Not my problem, Kate. You need to talk to her husband." I lashed out.

"Why, you stupid sonuvabitch!" Kate roared. "That girl loves you! I suspect she fell in love you the first time she saw you. All day long she kept talking about that good-looking man with the two kids.

She never told you why she had to marry. Her father had a partner. When he died, her mother married the partner. Well, stepfather ran the business into the ground and was facing bankruptcy.

Stepfather was friends with a Mormon businessman named Lee Young. He had sent a bunch of letters over the year extolling Megan's beauty to Mr. Young. When the stepfather got in trouble, Young told him he'd payoff the business debts as a dowry in exchange for Megan. She was pressured to go through that ceremony. She doesn't love that man! Hell, she never met him!"

"Dammit, Kate! Why didn't Megan say something at the beginning! Why did she wait so long for me to find out?" I grasped Kate by the arm.

"I don't know, Zeb. I just know that it isn't too late. All you should do is go talk to her! She loves you!" Kate said with an effort to calm both of us down. "You can fix this, Zeb!" Kate turned to go back to her wagon.

"Kate," I called to her back and she turned to face me. "Megan isn't the only one heartbroken." Kate nodded her understanding of my hurt as she left.

The next evening I sought Megan out. When I approached her at her wagon, she tensed up. I said, "Can we talk?" She briefly nodded and walked with me out of earshot of everyone but still in Kate's view. We stood looking at each other and then glancing away. Both of us were too afraid to start the conversation.

I finally gave in. "Do I call you Megan or Mrs. Young?" Kate reacted as though I had hit her with a hammer. She gulped air as she contemplated her response.

"Zeb, I never meant to hurt you," she started, "Being around you and the children have been the happiest days of my life. You don't know how I dreamed for your proposal and then woke up to the nightmare of my reality when you actually proposed."

She hesitated and saw I wasn't ready to speak.

"I grew up in a well to do family, Zeb. My father spoiled all his children and he told us that we would never want for money. But, then he died and my mother married his partner and all the money slipped away under his stewardship. We weren't told anything until he said that he would be forced into bankruptcy unless I agreed to marry a man I never met.

The family pressured me to accept the proposal, so I signed some documents, there was a ceremony and I was told I was Lee Young's wife. I would catch a steamship to St. Louis and then to a wagon train departing from Independence, Missouri."

I interrupted, "But why didn't you tell me from the start, Megan? Why did you let me go on thinking that you were single and available?"

"I was scared and alone, Zeb. Everyone was looking at me, and whispering under their breath that I was a kept woman. Kate was the only friend I could talk to. And then Gretchen extended her invitation and I was suddenly around people that liked me and I didn't want that to stop, so I kept up my pretense. It was better for me to have the fantasy that I could have a life with you!"

Kate closed her eyes and her lips grimaced as she relived her anguish of the past few days. I wanted so bad to hold and comfort her.

"So, what now Kate? Will you divorce him and marry me? You know I love you and that I'd be good to you."

Kate began crying and still refused to look at me.

In desperation, I said, "Kate, you don't belong with a man that has two other wives, a man too old to give you the children or a family of your own." I insisted. "Why, Kate, why in God's name would you willingly go to him?"

She finally looked at me with tears flowing down her face and said, "Because, if I don't Zeb, my little sister will be forced to take my place."

I stumbled away from Megan, tormented with the hellish bargain she was forced to keep to protect her sister. I looked for a resolution and couldn't find one. The closest I came up with was abandoning my wagons, riding to Salt Lake City and killing the bastard in cold blood.

Then, I would be lynched, Willi and Gretchen would be all alone in the middle of the wilderness. My wagons would be looted, and Megan would simply become another Mormon's trophy when she was delivered to Salt Lake City. I would have to look for another solution.

As I headed out the next morning, I became concerned with some particularly rugged terrain. I told Willi to stop his wagon, I saddled my horse and scouted around for an easier path.

As I scouted, the wagon train caught up with my wagons. Cutler insisted on the train going forward despite Willi warning him of my concerns. By the time I got back, the first twenty wagons through the trail had broken every wheel off. I told the people of my discovery and they detoured around.

Despite facing an irate crowd, Cutler was insistent on moving forward and abandoning the wagons and their families. Now the entire camp was in open revolt and the upshot was the camp voted to stay in place for one week to allow repairs to all the busted wheels, and Cutler was kicked out and my old friend, Herman Kohrs took his place. Cutler was furious at his demotion.

That afternoon, faced with the down time, I took Willi down to the river and stripped some tree branches to make fishing poles. We sat there, silently glad to decompress from the stress of the past week. Slowly our catch was becoming sufficient for a scrumptious meal of trout.

Willi asked, "Do you want to invite Megan?" as a bridge for a topic we had been avoiding.

"If you and Gretchen like, then by all means. You know I'd never stop you from seeing her." I replied. "In fact, I know how close you and Gretchen feel about her.

Megan loves you both and would do anything in the world for the two of you. In fact, there may come a time when y'all would prefer to be with her. If that happens, I just want to let you know that all I ever wanted was what was best for you and Gretchen."

Willi nodded, "Frau Megan has told us the same thing. Gretchen and I talked about this. We wish there was some way that we could stay with both of you. But if Frau Megan decides to leave the wagon train for Utah, I must come up with a decision for what to do for me and Gretchen....

I cannot risk Gretchen's future to the whims of an old stranger if we appear with Frau Megan in Utah without notice. He might decide to kick us out to live on the streets again. We decided to stay with you. Gretchen is telling her of our decision as we speak."

I patted Willi's shoulders to acknowledge that I knew how tough it was to weigh such a heavy decision on kids his and Gretchen's age. We got up and walked back to the camp.

A stranger was peering in the back of my wagon. I handed Willi the string of trout and approached the back of the man. I gripped the butt of my pistol.

"Want to tell me what the hell you're doing mister?" I warned.

The man swung around and gave me an oily smile that didn't help the mercenary look in his eyes. I thought for a second he intended to draw his gun but he saw I had the advantage of clearing my holster before he could. He carefully kept his hand away from his holster.

"Just curious to see what you got there, friend," he said in a cheesy voice.

"You ain't my friend. Get away from my wagon, now." I commanded.

He chuckled as he retreated, never turning his back to me. I had a bad feeling about him.

A poker game started that evening. The stranger had drifted into camp while we were fishing and had explored the surroundings. He announced that he was Michael O' Rourke and he would be dealing the game right after supper. He kept pulling out bottles of whiskey and plying and encouraging the players to drink.

One by one, he busted players and another took a seat in the game. O'Rourke kept running a patter of jokes and taunts that served to agitate the poor pioneers pitted against him.

Wild bets by flushed drunk novices filled the stakes as O'Rourke continued to fleece his sheep. He would laugh when a man got up after losing his life's earnings and stumbled stunned back to his crying family.

The final participants as midnight approached wound up being a drunk ranting Mike the Pimp, and William Cutler. Mike the Pimp's stakes dwindled away as he cursed his luck.

O'Rourke kept teasing him about what was he going to bet when he ran out of money. Mike told him that he had a whore that he could wager. O'Rourke cast his eyes on a frowning Kate and shook his head.

"Don't rightly care for that one," O'Rourke said, "Now, you want to throw in that redhead then we might be able to work something out."

Mike swore, but a light came into the desperate man's eyes and I knew he was falling prey to O'Rourke's suggestion. Kate and Megan both started yelling sharp objections.

Mike stood, fists clenched, "Shut the fuck up! I know what I'm doing!" He screamed at Megan and Kate as O'Rourke chortled while he swept in another victorious jackpot.

I knew it was time I sat down at the table.

"Ohh! New blood at the table!" O'Rourke taunted as he shuffled the cards. "Sorry, you waited so late. This is going to be the last hand of the night." He announced as he dealt the cards in a hand of five cards draw.

I looked at the three kings I was dealt as Mike happily opened the bid for $50 dollars. William Cutler called and raised the bet for another $50. I called, and O'Rourke made a big production of studying his cards. Finally, he said, "I call and raise a thousand." He pushed the money into the waiting pot.

"A thousand!" screamed Mike, "I ain't got that kind of money!"

"Well, friend you better find something to sweeten the pot!" O'Rourke continued to stare at Megan.

"Okay, you got a deal. One night with the girl!" Mike said.

Kate and Megan huddled together screaming their protests. The rest of the camp was dead silent as the drama continued to unfold.

"One night!" O'Rourke sneered, "You think that pussy is gold plated? Nope, if you're betting her, you're betting her for keeps! That means I keep her. When I leave, she leaves with me!"