His Defiant Wife, the Adventures of Linnett Wainwright, Book 2 (8 page)

The days passed
in a whirl of activity, there were so many preparations to make
before the snows came. Both of them were so tired when they fell
into bed at night that all thoughts of making babies were
forgotten.

The day came
when they awoke to a white covering of powdery snow. Linnett was
thrilled with how pretty everywhere looked. The air had a scent to
it that only a fall of snow can produce, sharp, clean, brittle and
bright.

After the
animals had been seen to, they went for a walk together. “We won’t
be able to walk through the snow soon, not when it falls heavily,”
John told her. “It will be far too deep and very, very cold.”

Linnett skipped
ahead of him and gathered up a handful of the soft snow, throwing
it at his head but hitting his chest. John charged after her and
there followed a fierce snowball fight which left Linnett gasping
for breath from giggling so much. They trudged home, wet, tired,
and blissfully happy.

During the next
few weeks, the weather became freezing, and thick snow covered the
ground. As John had predicted, the snow was so deep it was
difficult to walk at all, even over to the barn to tend the
animals. John struggled daily to see to their needs and kept
clearing the never-ending falls of snow from the path he had dug to
the barn and outbuildings. Despite the struggles, Linnett was
enjoying the closeness brought about by the harsh weather, and the
covered landscape was stunning in its cloak of dazzling white.

Inside the
cabin it was always cosy, and the aromatic smell of Linnett’s daily
baking wafted through the warm indoor air. The fire was kept
constantly in, giving a cheerful glow to the small abode, and the
thick snow on the roof insulated the cabin from the worst of the
cold. The evenings were spent happily in front of the fire when
John would read aloud to Linnett or he would continue her lessons
in the game of chess. He had started to teach her on the ship, but
it had been some time since their last lesson and Linnett had
forgotten many of the moves. John had to begin again and teach her
from scratch once more.

He watched her
as she frowned in concentration, her teeth catching her bottom lip.
Her lovely thick hair swung loose as she moved forward to place her
bishop in jeopardy, and her hair caught the light from the fire,
turning the silken locks into liquid gold. John’s eyes travelled
downwards to the soft swell of his wife’s breasts, and all at once
he wanted the game over. He moved his queen out and took her
bishop.

Linnett flung
up her hands and sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll never understand
the moves that each piece can make!”

John moved the
board aside and stood behind her. “You will, given time. You
already know most of the pieces. I am very impressed with how
quickly you’ve mastered the game, my love.”

John bent
forward and kissed her neck, running his hands through the soft
honey gold of her hair. He slid his hands down, cupping her breasts
through the fabric of her dress. Linnett turned her head and met
him in a lingering kiss. John pulled her to her feet and sat on the
chair, trying to pull her onto his knee but instead Linnett slid to
the floor and knelt between his parted knees. She placed her hand
over the swelling in his groin. “Hmm..have you another sort of game
in mind perhaps?” Linnett giggled.

“Most
certainly, my love. I think you need much more tutoring in the art
of pleasing your husband.”

Linnett cocked
her head to one side. “Really?” Her hand slid boldly downwards,
massaging the hardened bulge inside his breeks. John pulled her
hand away and loosened his breeches, releasing his throbbing organ.
He guided Linnett’s head downwards towards his groin.

Linnett
understood what it was he desired from her and without hesitation
took his firm shaft into her mouth. John cradled her head in his
hands, groaning in pleasure and wondering how long he could
withstand the waves of exquisite pleasure that the suction of her
mouth was creating. Jerking suddenly, he was almost unable to
contain the rush of release. He yanked Linnett away before it was
too late and she gave a soft, deep chuckle, revelling in her power
to arouse him to such a fever pitch.

Swiftly he
turned Linnett away from him and pushed up her skirts, uncovering
her long slender legs and creamy bottom. John fondled and parted
her between her legs, his fingers readying her, reducing her to a
quivering wetness. With a sharp tug backwards he pulled her down
onto his lap, impaling her with a quick upward thrust. Linnett
gasped as she sat back and felt him sink deep within her soft
flesh.

Holding her
firmly, with both his hands either side of her waist, he lifted her
up and lowered her again onto his thrusting shaft. He pushed
himself deep up inside her slippery mound until Linnett was moaning
and writhing with her head flung back against his shoulder.

John took his
hands from her waist and lifted them to the fastenings at the neck
of her gown. He unlaced the front of her dress and her breasts
spilled into his waiting palms. John teased and tormented her
aching nipples, and Linnett began to gyrate on his lap, abandoning
herself to the delicious sensations that were flooding through her
body.

John lifted
Linnett up and off him and held her high in the air, turning her so
that she faced him, and then lowered her slowly back over him,
letting the erect length of him slide back into her wet and
welcoming womanhood. Linnett shivered as she felt him slide up
slowly inside her once more, deeply filling her, pleasuring her. He
lowered his face to her bosom, suckling first one breast and then
the other, biting and nipping each budded nipple in turn.

Linnett wound
her arms around his neck and he raised his head to kiss her,
stifling the little cry she made as he moved his hips more
demandingly. John’s tongue moved in and out of her mouth, matching
the steady rhythm of his internal onslaught. Linnett threw back her
head, arching her back as John increased his tempo.

Suddenly, they
were both thrown to the floor as the chair gave way beneath them.
They clutched one another, rolling away from the chair and giggling
helplessly. Linnett lay on top of John. He raised himself up and
gently smoothed the snarled mop of hair away from her face.

Linnett lowered
her head to John’s lips, and his hands held either side of her
face, stopping her hair from falling forward. His thumbs caressed
her cheeks as they kissed languorously. Their passion rekindled,
Linnett slid down the length of his hard body and sat astride him.
Then, raising herself above his staff, she lowered herself onto
him, enjoying the moment of entry and slipping down him slowly
until he filled her completely.

Linnett rode
him hard as John grasped her waist, grinding himself upwards into
her yielding softness. The exquisite sensations building within
Linnett flooded through her, finally exploding into a kaleidoscope
of fathomless delight. John gave one last deep thrust, convulsed
with a shout and relaxed into a shuddering release.

He pulled her
down to lay beside him, his arm circling her, his hand cradling the
back of her head. Gently, John stroked his wife’s hair, letting the
burnished curls slip through his open fingers. When he could speak
again, he whispered into her ear, “Your secret is out Mrs. Foster!
You are nothing more than a wicked hussy!”

Linnett gave a
low throaty chuckle and turned her head on his shoulder, giving him
a soft nip with her teeth. John wrapped his arms tightly around her
and she shivered, saying, “Ooh it’s turned so cold!”

John lifted her
up onto the bed. “Tuck your hands under my arms.” Linnett did as
she was bid and pushed her hands deep into his arm pits, which were
cosily warm. John held her tight and wrapped the covers close about
them, and gradually Linnett grew warmer, savouring the delicious
heat and security of her husband’s loving arms. They gazed into the
hypnotic flames of the fire before drifting off to sleep, still
entwined.

One morning a
few days later, Linnett woke very early while it was still dark.
The mornings were dark until much later now; after all, it was
mid-winter. Linnett lay listening to the familiar sound of John
breathing. As she snuggled back down drowsily into the warmth of
the bed, she heard a noise outside the cabin. Linnett froze, alert
now, and she listened hard – nothing. But then she heard it again,
an odd, scraping sound. Was it Indians?

Linnett put her
hand out and patted John’s back.

“Mmm...what is
it?” John mumbled, still half asleep.

“John! Wake
up!” hissed Linnett urgently. “Listen!”

The scraping
noise started up once again as they lay still, listening
intently.

“Stay here,”
John whispered as he rose from the bed.

“No, I am
coming with you!” Linnett said and hastily scrambled after him.

John went to
the fire, throwing more wood on and lighting a taper for the
lantern, which he handed to Linnett.

“Alright then,
you hold that for me, but if I tell you to bolt the door, you do it
immediately. I mean it, Linnett, immediately!”

Linnett
trembled. “Yes, but why?” she asked.

“Linnett, even
if I am outside and I shout to you to bolt the door, just do as I
tell you with no arguments!” John reached out and traced his finger
lightly down the side of her worried face, and his voice softened
slightly. “I am sure it will be alright, my love; I am just being
cautious. Probably a hungry wolf out there, scratching its back on
our cabin wall that’s all!” John pulled on his boots and reached
for his coat and muffler.

He took down
the musket and primed it. Linnett stood and watched him, shaking
with cold and fright. “Be careful, John. Perhaps we should just
wait until it is light?”

John shook his
head. “No, I would rather take a quick look outside now.”

He went to the
door and put his ear to it, listening, but the sound outside had
stopped. Cautiously, he opened the cabin door and stepped out.
Linnett stood in the doorway and held the lantern high, its
flickering light turning the white snow to yellow. John walked out
a little way from the cabin, stood still and looked both ways along
the side walls. “I can’t see anything out here - but wait a
minute!”

He bent down on
one knee, studying something in the snow.

“What have you
found?” called out Linnett anxiously.

John
straightened up with a look of terror on his face and immediately
started to run towards the cabin. “A bear, Linnett! The
door....shut the door!” he shouted.

There was a
terrible snarling roar and a huge black bear lunged from around the
corner of the cabin. John was already halfway inside the doorway
when the bear slashed at him, knocking his legs out from under him.
He fell to the floor with a yell. Linnett, dragging at his arm,
tried to pull him into the safety of the cabin. She was sobbing
with fright, and the bear was so near, she could smell its foetid
breath. The creature raised a paw and slashed at John’s leg once
again, and John screamed out in agony.

Linnett,
galvanised by the terrible sound, rolled and dragged John inside
the cabin; she was fighting the bear for her husband’s life. The
bear lunged forward and Linnett reacted instinctively, punching the
animal hard on the end of the nose, a direct hit above the
creature’s snarling jaw. There was a split second of stunned
surprise on the animal’s face, whereupon Linnett managed to slam
the door shut and throw across the heavy bar.

For a
terrifying minute or two, the bear battered at the door, raging
with growls and snorts. Finding that this achieved nothing, it
finally seemed to grow bored and gave up, lumbering off into the
darkness. John lay writhing on the floor in agony. His leg was a
bloody mess, his breeches in tatters.

Linnett,
shaking and sobbing, ripped a blanket off the bed and wrapped it
around him. “Can you move, John?” she asked. John shook his head
slightly, his eyes tight shut and his face white. “Water...” he
whispered. Linnett spun away quickly returning with a ladle of
water which she held to his lips.

“John, I will
make you as comfortable as I can but then I must tend to your
wounds.” Linnett remembered Nat telling her that bear scratches
were poisonous and the best cure for them was to wash them in
alcohol. Linnett then placed a pillow under John’s head and left
him where he lay.

She heated some
water, gathered up some clean cloths and picked up the bottle of
whisky that John had brought with him from Mr. Penman’s shop.
Linnett poured an equal measure of whisky to hot water and hoped
that was enough; she had never seen a wound like this before.
Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, she cut away what was
left of John’s breeches.

John was
floating in and out of consciousness, his mind a fog of pain.
Linnett tore up a sheet ready to use as bandages, finally she was
ready and began to swab out the dreadful wound. John gave an
agonized yell and thankfully passed out. Linnett worked quickly
before he should regain consciousness; she saw that whole lengths
of flesh were hanging loose from his leg. She cut the smaller
shreds of flesh away while placing the larger pieces back into
place as best she could.

Finally
satisfied that the wound was clean, she bound his leg up firmly
with the strips of clean sheet. She cleaned the blood from the
floor and from her hands. Stripping off her nightgown, which was
covered in blood, she replaced it with a day dress. She wrapped
John warmly with quilts and stood the pail full of its gory
contents in the corner of the room. She felt sick but she knew she
couldn’t venture outside with a bear in the vicinity and so she
fought the sickness off and lay down on the bed, shivering
violently with shock.