Cowboy Story
Colorado- nuit 2005/pirates_cove13
*Subject: It is a story concerning Joe Byrne, and an OC called Sarah (and no, her middle name is not Mary Sue ;-)) It is set in the American West around 1885
*Rating: It is NC17 by the end
*Disclaimer: Did some one mention money? Well we don't have any, though if anyone wants to pay us to write please form an orderly queue..heehhe. Seriously Joe Byrne was obviously a real man, this is a work of fiction inspired by Orlando Blooms portrayal of him in the film Ned Kelly, and takes place in a time after those events which in reality led to his death. We have enormous respect for history and no harm is intended to the real Joe Byrne nor any one connected with him
*Feedback: Any comments, criticism, professions of undying love are acceptable and welcome. It is not beta'd, so please look upon mistakes as local colour..
Hope you like it.
Mata icon beauty today, there are 2 more chapters after this.
Chapter 4
She was lying in a tree. Breakfast over and a few things simmering for tonight’s supper, time for a break and the white ash called to her. Down here in the valley Spring was two weeks further along than at her cabin and she was surrounded by a brilliant leafy green. The tree was enormous - had stood here long before there was a ranch, before there were white people, before her great grandmother was born, back when all the land you could see and then way beyond that was the living and hunting grounds of the Ute.
Since she was a child, she loved to sit in trees, that feeling of being of the earth, but not quite in it, her own little green world where she could think or eat or take a nap.
She let her eyes drift up to the canopy of curving dappled green and hummed with pleasure feeling herself cradled by the thick heavy branches. The sound of an approaching rider caught her ear and turned her head and she rolled over onto her stomach to peer down for a better look.
Well wouldn’t you know…Chuchip looked sprightly, clearly feeling better she told herself approvingly. Well alright she shouldn’t lie to herself at least, not the first thing she noticed well yes it was too but also that Joe looked awfully good sitting on top of her. She watched as he swung one long leg over to dismount, tying the horses’ reins to the rail and speaking with Charlie who then was off the in the direction of the barn. Mr. Evans returned - interesting - maybe looking for work? But really those were the most detached of thoughts. Mostly her eyes just followed him. How he moved. Confident - not cocky just at the moment though he could be she knew, but all loose limbed and like he’d be ready for whatever came along. Hee hee, she wondered how he’d do with a panther dropping on him out of a tree - that might fluster him a bit..oh…maybe best not to dwell on what that would feel like, her on top of him and a growling bite to his neck…damn but the man did disturb her peace.
They were too far and there was too much other noise for her to hear, but she saw Mr. Evans now gesturing with his hands - giving directions. Didn’t find what he came for here then. She watched him nod and shake hands and she was so tempted to go say hello…but too many of the men where around. Better not. Better see him again with less of an audience. Well that was her nap done for now.
Well he’s made a good start, a positive tip for the next ranch in the valley, and if they needed horsemen then they were in luck. Aye that was the way to approach the thing- ‘what can do for yer Mr. Morgan? I hear you are in need of hands, and as luck would have it, I was passing’ Fact was he hadn’t quite intended or thought about staying this particular place, these mountains must have had a hundred towns like this, but well he could do with a few dollars in his pocket. Right, yes that was it, and Joe squeezed Chuchip with his thighs for the wind to whip through his thoughts.
Mr. Evans had been right, that very next day some stock was to be moved from their winter grazing to new pastures uncovered by melting snow further up the mountain and the ranch owner was in need of some hired hands, well it was only going to be a short bit of work, but enough to get a roll to win on at the card tables.
“And how long will we be gone from Durango if yer don’t mind me askin’?”
“Two - Three days. Got a schedule to keep to, have yer lad?” Mr. Morgan looked up from his calculations.
Joe looked at the ranch owner and hoped to hell there wasn’t a flush on his cheeks as he pulled his jacket round him.
“Nah, just some thing to attend to, a couple of days will be just grand. Will I start now then since I am here?”
Mr. Morgan sighed and lifted his eyes again “Well some of the lads are putting fences back to rights after the winter storms, down that way a mile or two “ old fingers pointed to a ridge you had to squint to see “No doubt they could do with a hand if its to be done by next year. Call in the ranch with them after, they’ll be some food for the lot of you, and well if I know them they will be heading down town to spend money they didn’t earn yet.”
Joe nodded before a quick shake of the man’s hand which did for an agreement and he rode off in search of hard work and something to take up his mind. The rest of the day went quickly enough, though he wished on reflection he’s not bothered with that bath, swinging the mallet to embed posts even in the deep softness of the earth had left his muscles growling with complaint after several hours, and the mud of the mountains streaked on his skin.
Still it was good to have some company, and Joe could feel himself slipping back into his skin as they rode slow and lazy back to the ranch, a huge wooden table on the porch had been laid with mismatched bowls and spoons that looked like they had had been forged by a blacksmith who had smoked too many of them pipes. The first spoonful though sent him flying back there, to her table and her cat and her soup. The thin water he had in his mouth now his body seemed undecided about taking in, and it was a while before he swallowed, this was no curiously scented rich mix of beef marrow and cold ripened carrots, and he pushed the bowl away after a few mouthfuls. No appetite all of a sudden.
“No wonder you are all bones.” Mrs. Morgan’s tone pulled him back to her table.
“Ah sure now it was a fine soup, truly a marvel, a little heavy on the seasoning fer me delicate constitution” the smiling wink he gave her leaving the woman assured of her own culinary skills and the other men chuckling. They liked him already. Though it wasn’t obvious how a man that wiry could work that hard, he had, and well a stranger with a few stories to tell on a night they intended sitting many hours in a bar was something in these parts.
Jed, a fresh faced bull of a boy, the no doubt nobly named Cain, a man whose name apparently meant ‘Wolf’ in the language of the Ute, and Joe took their leave, a solemn promise to be back at dawn if not before to see those cattle moved on and they sank into the sort of warm anticipation of beer and company and a night that, if it went as planned, they would struggle to remember in the first light.
The bar was loud, well there was rarely a quiet night frankly, the town being one where the limits of existence and the possibilities of your life were all too painfully exposed to not have another whiskey. Well that was if you never lifted your eyes up to the mountains.
Joe started drinking heavily with them, one round after another of rough alcohol and cards - funny how the 2 went together. A warm buzz in his belly that was all about staying right there, when hands went around his chest,
“You looking for some company?”
Of course he was, he wanted to feel himself slip into a warm wet body, press down on top of her , open her legs, feel her tongue with his. His head went back to feel the softness of breasts behind it, a cushion to sink into, his dark eyes looked up into a face that smiled. Painted blue eyes and soft blonde curls. Jesus she was pretty.
One hand was already playing with his buttons, the lads around the table egging him on, and he could feel a flood of desire
“I’ve to be up early..fer work..” Christ, did he really say that? That woman really was going to be the death of him.
A soft painted mouth was next to his ear “well you don’t have to marry me first….”
Joe closed his eyes, this was just crazy, he had money, he had a hard cock and he it seemed had a woman who would do what he wanted to do, she just wasn’t her. A deep breath and Joe unpeeled her fingers from his waistcoat
“Lovely as you are me beauty, I need me sleep” a finger down her cheek, that almost took him, she had soft skin “see yer in the morning lads..” and a table full of wide eyes followed the long steps up the stairs.
He was almost glad to be alone. His head back on the pillow he shut his eyes. He needed to tell her, that he would be gone, that he hadn’t stolen her book, that he was still thinking about her. Jesus, had he stopped? It would be morning soon.
Too worried about missing the dawn. Fuck the cattle, he wanted to see her. His horse was woken by his gentle chucks, saddled with the ease of someone who could do it in the dark, and he was on her back. Off into the quiet that was predawn
Sarah was frowning a little at the something poking her, burrowing under the covers to escape attempts to rouse her from sleep. A new assault as the something walked up the backs of her legs and along her spine and a tell tale batting at her hair. A threat of ‘you will never eat fish again’ bitten off as she heard a tapping at the door that grew into a knocking.
She was out of bed as fast as a mostly asleep person can be, blanket in one hand and gun in the other before she heard his voice, “Sarah…Sarah are you not up yet lass? I thought you were up before the chickens….”
Relaxing a little she wondered if she had overslept - she never did that, “It’s Joe,” he added unnecessarily, and she shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around her as she walked to the door, Cheetie purring happily now that he’d succeeded in getting her up.
She didn’t think really, just pulled the door open as if it were somehow not at all strange for this man she barely knew to arrive at her door in the wee hours. “Joe?” her reply and then a long silence as she felt him drink her in, just the slightest flush through her as she realized the blanket didn’t cover that much at all and the look on his face…the cold metal of the gun lock dangled on her fingers now and Joe reached to take it from her, “sure, you weren’t going to shoot me - it’s only been two days,” he took the gun from her now and leaned it in the corner, “and I did bring it back.” She was bewildered at first -what time was it anyway - but Mark Twain finally came into focus. And she reached to take it, the blanket slipping just a little as she did so.
Joe leaned back against the door frame and watched Venice fly through her head, fuck she looked good, her hair all a tangle of black strands and Jesus he could see the tan skin of her thighs tantalizing from behind wool. She had been in bed, and he was breathing in the scent of her from bare skin, folds of warm scent pulling him in.
“Why did you bring it back now Joe? Library is shut. At least till morning” a small smile and she could feel her body and her mind waking up, little stretches into a day that was still foggy with dreams.
“Well its like this Sarah, I’ve some work at Morgan’s ranch, starts at dawn..soon.. and I’ll be away and I didn’t want you to think I’d have run off with yer book” Sarah reached to close the door behind him a frown on her face, but the closing nearness of her body made him swallow, he might have caught her arm then, she was so close, and he could almost feel that skin brushing against wool, Christ her breasts were inches from his chest, from his hands.
“You are going away?”
“Well just a couple of days and all, yer know. Some cattle ranching. I will be back, you know that I will…” his breath was harsher now. Almost everything else was gone from his head.
Sarah scraped a stray wisp of hair from face and shook it down her back “but you thought I might wonder where you were?”
Joe looked back at her, no sleep and her half naked in front of him and it was just unstoppable
“Well. I hoped yer might. Christ Lass, I can’t stop thinking about yer. To tell the truth I’ve not slept a wink waiting to come here ..” his blunt fingers reached to touch the side of her face, a thumb brushing her lip, rough skin caught on the red brown curve and her tongue instinctively reached to soothe. She thought she might be able to hear a moth flap it’s wings, he was looking right at her, his eyes drawn down her throat to where the blanket was grasped in her hand at her breast.
He was holding his breath to see what she would do, holding himself back for her answer to his fingers.
“You were waiting to bring my book back?” her mouth moved to brush against him. He had her reply.
Joe still had a grin on his lips when they touched hers,
“No Sarah, to do this...”
It was sweet and surprisingly soft his mouth, gentle and testing but she could feel all that he was holding in check behind it and she pressed back, her tongue seeking his. She felt him startle and then step into her, all of him seeming to move more around her with a soft groan that she felt through her whole body.
Joe could almost feel his muscles straining, it would be so easy, Christ she was kissing him back, kissing- only this wasn’t, this was letting him taste her, letting his tongue do what his cock was ready to do, showing him, just the edge of what they would be, and he wanted her right then. It would be so easy to lift her up, let that blanket slip down, let his eyes and his hands and his mouth have those breasts. Fuck he wanted to feel her ass, he wanted all of her. His head went back against the door frame, his hands on her bare shoulders and his breath heavy, if she moved her hips one inch, those cattle could go graze the moon
“Sarah. Lass, I have no idea how to let go of you….”
She didn’t answer right away; just stood stock still and swallowed, the two of them straining to get enough air in this dizzying freefall to think clearly.
“Maybe I’d better help then,” she finally managed and took a step backward, just enough that his hands left her shoulders and trailed down her arms, perilously close to her breasts and she stepped back a little more, his arms falling down to his sides. She thought she heard a thunk as his head hit the door frame again and she had to smile a little.
“Ride Fast, Joe. I’ll be here - I’ll be here when you get back.”
That didn’t exactly seem to help so much, the air escaping from his mouth telling its own story about how he had no desire to go anywhere that wasn’t inside her. Joe’s eyes were a little unfocused
“Aye well you’ve work an all” he was trying to convince himself evidently that the best course of action was to leave despite the scream of every other bit of him. “I will be off then. It’s nearly dawn. Be two or three days I shouldn’t wonder. Sarah..Ah Jesus, well I don’t need to tell yer. I’ll be gone”.
It might not have been wise, but he couldn’t stop himself- a tortuous brush of his lip over her bare shoulder, oh she had silk skin and he moaned just a little “Alright, alright the damn cows are waiting, and ol’ Morgan, I know” a little half smile and he turned to lift the latch.
A curse that Sarah was surprised didn’t wake the birds echoed round the small bit of sky that circled the little cabin, sky that was just about to lighten, and she listened to the hooves disappear all over again. Only this time they were moving fast, the blood quick around every vein in his body.
Sarah stared at Cheetie who stared at the door, seeming to hope it might open again. A long sigh as she turned to look at the sleeping furs and blankets and pillows, a thousand thoughts racing like a fast horse through her mind and no, if she got back in it she might never get up.