Storm in Her Heart (Warning - A bit Risque)

[KHickam]

It had been one turning of the moon by her reckoning. Stands Alone Woman was pleasantly surprised when the trapper had appeared at her village on the Missouri and spoke to her adopted father for her hand. The trapper had given a bale of prime beaver and his short gun as a gift to win her hand. He would be her second husband. She had been alone for 7 winters and both her daughters were grown women with friends and families of their own.

As she waved goodbye to her family of over 30 winters she had mixed feelings about the prospect of being the companion of the white trapper. He had been kind to her and he was a strong and good man she felt in her heart, when he visited the village a few times.

She believed that the Creator had blessed her once again, for she developed strong feelings for the trapper on the nearly week long journey through the snows to the sheltered valley. As the days and weeks passed she grew to love the trapper and worried greatly, when he was away tending the trap line or hunting.

As the days passed she slowly re-learned the language she had thought she had forgotten since she was a girl in the country east of the Big River, what the trapper called the Mississippi.
He was a man well acquainted with the woods and prairies, experienced, and one not to take chances. But, she still felt uneasy. As the storm clouds gathered, so did the Storm in Her Heart.

The storm had moved in fast as they often do on the prairie, a slight overcast sky had turned quickly into a tumultous storm, the howling wind and the blowing snow made it impossible to see but scant few feet in front of you, and the temperature dropped dangerously very quickly.

She paced nervously, jumping at every crack the snapping branches and trees made as the wind blew harder and it grew colder. She had been through many such prairie storms - she was a was a woman born and bred to the hard life on the prairie after all. Why her heart raced so, wasn't because she was frightened it was because her lover from the East was out in it.

He had come to the prairies as he always had embraced adventure in his past. With his traps and gear eagerly anticipating the riches of the rivers and streams that were his for the taking.

He was a natural man, born and bred to the wilderness and prairies, strong of chest and leg and with an unyielding spirit - a spirit that called him further and deeper into the wilderness, it was his first love. She knew that but she had seen in his eyes that same kind of feeling was now starting to burn for her in his heart. She knew the prairies and the hunt were part of his essence but she felt she was becoming an essential part of his life also. She knew in her mind that he had faced similiar dangers and more, but in her heart she just wanted him safe in her arms.

As the storm intensified the trapper found himself wishing he had listened to Stands Alone Woman, and not gone out.

He had thought, that the storm would go to the north, and time was getting short before all the water would be locked in ice and the beaver safe in their houses. The storm intensified and the howling wind drove the cold, wet snow through is leather leggings and wool coat, His wide brim hat was frozen stiff from the snow and ice. It was bone chilling, the cold and wet snow as it often is in early Winter.

The sky had darkened with the storm and setting sun, and he was drawn to the glow of the firelight in the rock house across the valley. His faithful mountain horse, kept trugding along faithfully carrying his old master back to the safety of camp and the paddock.

She watched fitfully as the storm intensified and caused the fire outside at the entrance of the rock house to flicker and then go out. He had shown her where the candles, and the oil lantern were kept just for such an occasion. With efficiency born of a the nomadic people of the prairies. She quickly had candles and lantern lighting the interior of the rock house with a soft warm glow, and a warm fire awaited the trapper - if he returned.

She stood looking out the rock house for some sign of her handsome trapper. The tension was as electrifying as the lights dancing across the sky.

He trudged on towards camp - but the glow of the fire light, no longer guided him. He had to rely on his instincts and the instincts of his faithful old mountain horse to guide him home. On and on they went, it seemed like hours as the cold snow soaked through all his clothing and he shivered as the warmth was leaving his body.

He had almost given up and hung his head in despair and defeat, when he spied the soft glow of a lantern. As he drew closer he was able to see the outline of the bluffs and paddock. And a vision met his eyes like a angel sent from Heaven.

His beautiful companion was softly illuminated in the glow of the light her soft and light features beckoning him on. He lead his horse into the stable he had made in the fall, and started to unsaddle him. She had heard the ruckus the wolf-dog was making and knew in her heart that it meant her handsome trapper was back,

She grabbed the rifle, checked the prime as the trapper had shown her, and ran towards the stable. The wet snow soaking her soft buckskin dress as she went. As she approached the stable, she could make out in the dark, the strong features and outlines of her handsome lover. She threw her arms around him and kissed his lips and hugged him close for a few seconds.

Sensing the cold and shivering trapper needed help. She quickly helped the trapper unsaddle his old horse and hang the saddle in its place and turned the horse out into the pasture. She lead him by the hand into the rock house. His dripping clothes made a small puddle on the sandstone floor of the cave, as she helped him out of his wet clothes. His hands were trembling from the cold and he was having trouble with the buckles, and laces on his leggings and wool coat.

With practiced hands she unbuckled his belt and unlaced the wet leather, clinging to his well turned and muscular legs and thighs - she loved the strength in his legs and quickly the leggings and leather and wool coats were in a wet heap on the floor. She stood up and hugged and kissed her handsome trapper. She felt the trembling of his body, and quickly stepped back to unbotton his shirt to get him out of his soaking wet clothes before he caught his death of pneumonia.

As he watched her practiced hands undo and unbuckle his clothes he was grateful. When she hugged and kissed him, he felt electricity. He stared at her body, the snow had soaked her buckskin dress, and it clung to her lithe and supple body enticingly.

She seemed oblivious to his rising desire, concerned only with getting him out of his wet and cold clothes.. She finished helping him out of his clothes and guided him to bed platform, and covered him with wool blankets and a buffalo robe.

She pulled her own wet dress over her head and joined him. His cold body felt like an icy dagger, on her hot skin, as she snuggled next to him - lending her warmth to his. Soon, his trembling body was warm and he dozed off in a peaceful sleep.

Stands Alone Woman, looked into his face and felt safe and content once more, and hoped that the trapper shared the love for her that was growing in her heart for him.

[Tim Burns]

Great story line: Is Your profession that of a writer? 

[old salt]

Another good one Dan'l

[KHickam]

Great story line: Is Your profession that of a writer? 

Thank you sir, but no - my profession is that of a wandering dog trainer/handler.   

[NAULTRICK1]

 

[Red Badger]

Another Great one Dan'l 

[Bulldog lady]

    Thanks again for another great story  been missin them  figured ya run outa fresh quills and paper

[KHickam]

You are welcome