Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (15 page)

“Corpse, it’s ah – the dead – some poor soul.”

“In here?!” She asked, immediately panicked of the idea.

“It’s gone, I dragged it out and away from here.”

“Don’ wanna sleep where no dead been!” She insisted.

“Asiza, as comfortable as you surely are high in the trees, they won’t protect you from the storm. We staying – to rest the horses, and give you a rest – now that’s that.” He firmly commanded.

“What if what kill him, kill us too?”

“It’ll be long gone. What was left of him – nothing more than dust and bones – no flesh left. I was gone s’long because I cleared all beddin’ and all that remain, out. We’ah be fine.”

He assured her, “…not such a bad place once lit up. Nice big open fire, caldron and spit - I cleaned out the chimney and over there, a nice wood stove too; don’t think this fella liked getting’ cold.”

She stood, reluctantly looking around the dim hovel.

Broc lit one lantern giving them a slight glow to see by. It was the middle of the day, yet, almost dark from the gathering clouds outside.

There was suddenly a bright flash of light, moments later, the crack and roll of thunder.

Her eyes rolled up towards the ceiling above them, staring she mumbled, “Sho’hope this roof hol’.”

“It’s bone dry in here, smell the air – nothin’ been wet in here for a long time. Aye, we’ll be snug as a bug. I cut and brought in all that fern and pine,” he pointed against the wall where it was stacked high – adding a nice scent to the cabin, “Spread it flat an’ even, cover it with our bedrolls. I’m going for more wood to maintain us a nice fire, we may be here for a while.” With that he was gone again through the hidden door, covering it back with the vines and weeds.

Asiza stood peering through the shadowy den, looking from the large fireplace to the woodstove in the corner. Noting other things present they would use in the cozy dark cavern. A table, a stool and two chairs - two other lanterns, oil for burning – a dirty gingham tablecloth, and gingham curtains over a window that was completely overgrown and dirty. Heading for the table, she gave it a closer inspection - happy to find a flint stone, pistol, gun powder and balls.

“Was a white man I’m thankin’.” She murmured to herself about the corpse removed – her thoughts based on her findings. Also on top was a hatchet, a hunting knife – which she picked up - admiring it with wide eyes, much sturdier than her dagger, she would keep it as well. Continuing to look the table over, she noted a tin plate, cup, silverware and a jug of whiskey. Lifting it she found that it was tightly corked. Shaking it, she decided the liquor was up to more than half.

Checking under the table, she spotted a box full with wood chips – and beside it, a stack of well dried logs.

Everything was dusty and dirty. She would see to that later, for now, she was happy to get a fire going in the stove. First however, she lit another lantern, placing it where she worked. The other illuminated the opposite side of the cabin - both now offered a wonderful glow.

Seeing the hovel with the extra light brought a contented smile to Asiza’s face. She decided it wasn’t going to be so bad after all. A bright side of things was shining through despite her feminine discomfort. Thanks to that Mrs. Hardy, she had enough cloth and padding to keep herself decent while she bled. Only thing, she needed water to wash and recycle her rags - there was one bucket and a washing tub. Blessings were aplenty this day in that a stream was not far - she would have to take the bucket and fill it once her husband returned. Her husband.

Just the thought made her pause to ponder it.

She couldn’t believe it – what an incredible notion to be true in her case. Thus far, she welcomed everything connected to no longer being free. Only because the connection was with him, and right away she found herself praying, “Lawd, if it be yo’will – can I maybe, live longer than I figga’d – an him be wit’me long as I do? If I cain’t, I’ah accept it, but – it sho’would be nice Lawd. Jus’ thought I’ah ask.”

Having offered up her prayer to the heavens, she began cleaning the dust from everything. Shaking out the gingham tablecloth she was surprised to see after clearing the table, underneath the cloth, cut into the table top, a square where the whiskey jug had been sitting. She pressed one corner of it and the small square piece moved. It slanted downward to disclose an opening. Looking inside she found a sack that was heavy to pull out. Unable to stop there, she untied the leather tie and to her delight – the bag was full of gold coins.

“Oh Lawd! Oh my Lawd! Is it gol’ Lawd, is it gol’?” She couldn’t believe her eyes. Taking it to their bed mat, she placed it with their other things to show Broc when he returned.

Excited, smiling and anxious – she found a new surge of energy and started cleaning more vigorously. She wasn’t sure how much time passed but she suddenly heard him whistling, loud as could be as if letting her know he was back.

Her heart surged into her chest and made her laugh out loud to hear him singing the song he’d made up about her.

He too was laughing and happy, “I see smoke rising from that stove pipe. M’darlin’ that is mighty invitin’ to see!” Following his joyous return, she heard thunder rumbling. The door came open and there he was, as beautiful as a man ought to be. She couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face.

“Miss me while I’m gone?” he teased, tossing logs in from where he dropped them, and glancing up at her, he stopped to gaze a moment, “My word, you a pretty woman Mrs. Asiza Wolf, makes a man not mind comin’ back to find you waitin’.”

She blushed, and then realized he needed help and rushed to lend a hand, “No no now, you supposed to be lying down, leave them be. I got it – you just move away – do like I say.”

She moved back, “Found wood, flint an’ otha’ stuff I cain’t wait to show you.”

“I can see you been busy. You just wait an’ see what I got us to eat on – Lord’o’mercy, we been blessed.”

“Oh Masta’ Broc, we sho’ have, tha’s fo’sho.”

He made a face, “M’darlin’ – I’m yer’husband firs’ – not really cut out to be no master, no thank you, not made o’that kind.”

She smiled, sitting in a seat – watching him work to bring in all the wood he’d gathered and it was a lot. “I don’ min’ callin’ you masta’ – ‘spose I should until we out the south.”

He only grunted as he continued tossing in wood.

“Goodness me, how much you fin’?”

“Don’ know how long this storm gone last. Sides, we gone be cookin’ for a bit I figure with all the good stuff I brought back for you to cook…” He paused, looking up from his chore, “You
can
cook?” He asked.

“Prob’ly better than mos’ folks you know.”

He bobbed his head, “Good enough then.”

“Can I help do somethin’?” She asked, un-used to watching someone else work while she sat.

“You gone be cookin’ soon as I get all this wood in.”

“Want me t’go out, get the food you fin’?” She asked, fretting because she felt idle.

“Nope, gone bring that in too, wanna surprise you,” He stood stretching his back and smiling the whole time, “When you see what I got, it’s gone be like Christmas.”

“You see what I fin’ you gone be thankin’ the same.” She returned, with big eyes. Broc winked at her and carried on.

Her eyes caught and admired every knot, bunch and flex of his muscles. She couldn’t remember ever being so drawn to a man. Asiza couldn’t help but remark from her seat “You sho’got me feelin’ funny thangs Masta’ Broc.”

“What funny thangs?” he asked, arranging the stack on the far wall where he could grab the wood to shave it or chop it to burn.

“Cain’t explain’ it.”

“Try.” He urged.

She thought about it, and then after a moment glanced up to see him kneeling and watching her, she gave a slight smile and shrugged her shoulders, “Cain’t find no words fo’it.” She imparted gently.

He smiled, “Maybe you find some words later? You think?”

She nodded, ‘Spose I may.” All the wood was in and stacked, he stood rubbing his hands together for the next load in, “Now… wait until you see what I’m ‘bout to bring in next,”

He winked and grinned, making her stomach feel warm and tingly right down to her toes.

He shot out and returned, backing in asking over his shoulder, “You ready?”

“Ready,” She nodded.

He spun holding up for her to see, a monstrous goose.

Asiza shot to her feet, “Lawd’a’mercy look at the size of that thang! Oooh, got my stomach growlin’ just lookin’ at it!” She exclaimed with wide eyes.

“This gonna make for some good eatin’. Missus, you got my promise, I’m gone eat this goose, clean t’the bone.” He swore.

Asiza slapped her cheeks holding her face, “Oh my, tha’s gone be a lot o’work getting’ ready for eatin’!”

“We do it together, won’t be so bad.” Laying the goose on the floor in front of the fire place, he went back out and returned with carrots, wild onions, mushrooms, a head of cabbage and five dirty potatoes, asking upon his return, “Rain be here soon, what we need now?” He asked, placing those items on the table,

“Water, lot o’water!” she replied, lifting the goose to test the weight of it, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll get us water.”

“An I get’to dress this bird…”

“You should be lying down.”

“No sa’, ain’ gone have you doin’ all the work, gots’t’do my bit - I’m fine. What you do is, take that big pot, that bucket an’ that washtub out t’the stream an’ clean’em an’ fill’em up wit’ water.” She directed. Right away, Broc grabbed all three, “Yes ma’am, you say, I do.” Asiza stopped and shook her head. Twice he’d said yes ma’am to her - that was mighty peculiar coming from a white man with a Negro woman giving directions.

He paused in the doorway, noticing the way she stopped and stared, “We best get started then, it’s gone be pouring soon, it’s been warnin’ for a while now.”

Asiza gave a soft smile, grabbed the goose by the neck and followed Broc out to the stream. Both made quick work of getting done what they needed to.

Chapter Ten

They almost made it before the heavens opened wide and poured forth its torrent. Soaking wet, they finally had all they needed to stay in and wait out the rest of the storm. Laughing and drenched, a feeling of contentment passed between them. Broc built the logs for a good fire and set up the spit, in no time at all. Moments later, they had the goose over the popping logs and glowing flames – high enough to cook and turn as they saw the need.

From the stream, he brought in two nice size cat fish to eat. Knowing the length of time that goose would take to cook - they had the fish for now.  

While he saw to them, due to the close confines, Asiza had no choice but to get out of her wet clothes in front of him. Making an effort not to watch her, Broc knelt before the fire, getting ready to cook the fish. Striving to stay distracted, he placed the pan over the flames, waiting for it to get hot. Not far from him, Asiza stripped down to the skin with her back to him.    

Being a man, he had to look – there was no way not to. The golden glow within their little sanctuary enriched the luster of her color. This would be the first time he’d see her nude. Mrs. Hardy and her daughter had seen to her at the farm, letting him take over only after her husband married them. Now, he could see what he’d missed back then. The tapering of her back curved into such a small waist it had him swallowing the moisture in his mouth. Watching her made it hard to pay attention to what he was doing. From her waist, her hips spread wide, rounding to frame her firm, perfect, full cheeked bottom.

The G-string-like-hip-garter, holding her rags in place, served as a reminder that all he could do was gaze in need.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Kneeling, he felt restrained like a prisoner – salivating as she pulled the chemise over her head. He forced a hard swallow, catching glimpses of the outer roundness of her breasts from behind. With her chemise on, she stepped into the skirt. Last and finally, she unrolled her top, shook it out and slid her arms in. Broc was relieved as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

However, what lie beneath her clothing, would not leave his mind. 

He knew to survive and remain a gentleman, he needed to try and focus on something else. That had proven impossible with her nude before him - visions of touching her bare skin were running through his mind. Everything about her, made his mouth water. He imagined what she would taste like. For certain, he would find out, just before piercing deep between her thighs to ride and stroke and ride. With that on his mind, he barely heard what she was saying to him. He had to blink and almost shake his head.

“You wet, get out them clothes. I’ah watch it.” She offered moving close to him, kneeling to take over cooking their dinner.

Broc stood, moving to his bundle and removed his loin cloth, but unlike her, he didn’t turn his back. He wanted her to see him, and to know what she was doing to him. Standing beside the table, he peeled his soggy top from his skin and then removed his boots – followed by his breeches and leggings.