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The Rancher's Wife
Wyoming, Early Winter 1853
Diana Garrett sat in her large bedroom windowseat looking out at the snow covered fields of her Wyoming ranch. Just a few feet away from her laid her husband of twenty-five years. It was there anniversary today, but she would not be able to celebrate it with him. For the past fourteen and half years, Robert had laid in a coma. The doctor had said that his brain worked enough to swallow the liquids she gave him to keep him alive, but nothing more. And if he did ever wake, he would never be able to walk again. She remembered that fateful day when he was breaking in one of the mustangs. It had thrown him; his back hitting the fence post, snapping his head over the top of it, breaking his neck. His limp body shifted as he slumped to the ground, hitting the back of his head on the railing itself, knocking him unconscience. He had came to once when the cow hands were bringing him in the house. He told them to "kill the mustang" and then he fell into the deep sleep of the coma. She looked at him now. He had been thirty-five then. Now, he look more like a man approaching one hundred and not that of fifty. Somewhere inside of her she still loved him, but had long given up the hope of him ever returning to her. She often found herself wondering if he were to wake up, would they still have anything in common. He has once handled the finances and the overseeing of the ranch and all she had to do was entertain the guests and look good, but now it was all up to her. She was quite proud of herself too. She had taken a ranch that was on the verge of bankruptcy and turned it into one of the largest cattle and horse ranches in Wyoming. Several times she had thought of taking a lover to satisfy the wanting needs she still had, but each time she looked at her silver wedding band she was reminded of the "for better for worse, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live" she had vowed. For fifteen years she had lived the worse; lived the sickness; and still they both lived. She sighed as she looked back out the window. Night was now falling, and she could see the men coming in from the ranges. Gathering her skirt, she headed for the kitchen to help Sissy feed the nearly twenty hungery men. Before she would never have thought of helping her servants, but after Robert's accident, it kept her mind busy. That was until the tall and handsome Draven Thomas had shown up on the ranch five years ago. It was he who now haunted her dreams. It was also he that had reminded her what is was like to have a man stare at her with such desire in his eyes that it burned her so hot that she had to leave his sight in order to calm her raging needs. Just a simple brush of his hand or the sound of his deep voice could throw her into a trance that left her feeling like a giddy school girl. At nights, as she laid her lonely bed, she often wondered what it would be like to know his touches in the most intement way. She would dream of their making love, waking in the morning drench in sweat that one would have thought she was feverish. She guessed in a way she was feverish; feverish for the touch of the cow hand that haunted her dreams. Draven Thomas unsaddled his horse and tended to it just as he had done every night for the last five years. He looked out the wide door of the barn toward the ranch house. He longed to make the women of the house his. The other cow hands would say that he was after her money, but the truth was he could care less about it. He already held her in his heart, but he wanted her. Wanted her in his arms and in his bed. To feel her soft delicate skin. To taste her pouty lips. To suckle her breasts. And to feel the warmth of her long ignored womanhood. He knew that she was twenty years his senior, but didn't care. He wanted to show her the passion that she had not felt for fifteen years. To give her the satisfaction that she so desperately needed. He sighed as he fell into step with the other hands as they made their way to the main house to eat. He smiled at the knowledge that she would be there, right along side her cook, Sissy, helping to serve the men. This was the first ranch he had ever seen that the lady of the house actually did hands on work. But of course, he had heard the story of her husband and knew that she only did it to keep her mind occupied and to keep herself sain. But he had also seen the look of desire in her eyes when he stared at her. And had heard the sharp inhale of air she took each time he "accidentlly" brushed her hand. He knew that one day, he would have her. But above all, he knew that once he did, he would never be able to let her go. He smiled at her when he entered the dining room of the main house. He noted her wide smile that turned into a blushing glow as she looked at him and then quickly looked away. He felt the tingling in his loins that always occured when she smiled. He made his way around the long table that seated all of the cow hands and the two women and to the chair that had been designated as his. Each man had their own and he was thankful that his was just a few chairs away from hers. Like every other man there, he waited to be seated until the two women took a seat themselves. They have been hired cow hands, but they were still gentlemen when it came to ladies. But tonight, she asked that they be seated before her. He watched as she stood by her chair, hands held before her on the back of it, and a look of seriousness on her face. "Men," she began, "all of you know about Robert. And you all know that every Monday the doctor comes to check on him. And still, there is no change." She took in a deep breath before continueing. "I have had some terrible news come to me." She held her hand up to calm the questioning and whispering of the men. "Please, gentlemen, let me finish." She made her way around the table, walking behind the men opposite of him as she talked. "I have spent the last fifteen years turning it into something to be proud in." Several of the men nodded in agreement. "But I have also heard from Robert's lawyer. It seems that a young man is trying to claim that he is Robert's illegitimate son. That his mother had been a whore that Robert favored and that he wants his inheritance and that being the entire two hundred acres and everything on it. He demands that I leave the property and will, as he states it, give me six months to vacate the premisses, taking nothing but my clothing with me." It was then that he spoke up, asking, "Is it possible that what this man says is true?" He watched as Diana shock her head and laughed an almost hysterical laugh. "I don't think so," she said, "but as my foreman, Henry Long, knows, Robert and I did have our share of problems when we first were married twenty-five years ago today." His hopes were dashed as she shrugged her shoulders and said, "How do I know if this man is lying or not? He claims to be twenty-three years old. It would put him at the right age to be his bastard. I have given him four sons of our own." She then bowed her head. He knew very well that those four sons lay in the small family cemertary down the road; none of them living past the age of five. Diana felt her tall frame begining to shake. She hadn't thought that telling the men this would be so hard. They were her family. The older ones were father figures that she looked to for advice. The ones her age were brothers that she could talk with and depend on for help. And the younger ones were like the sons that she had lost so long ago. Even Sissy was like an older sister that mothered her. What would she do if this man took all of this away from her? Where would she go? What would she do? And above all, what would happen to Robert? Would this man hire someone to contiue his care? Did he even care what happened to his "supposed" father? She contiued around the table, stopping behind Draven's chair. She rested her hands on the back of it, allowing the tips of her fingers to gentle brush his back. She softly rubbed as she spoke. "Robert's lawyer is traveling to the small town just north of the southern border of Wyoming. Having known Robert since they were children, and knowing what he looked like as a child and as a young man, he is certain that he tell if the man is really Robert's or not. He has already contacted the sheriff and judge there. They are will to help anyway they can." With that, she finished her walk to her seat. The meal was ate in an erie silence that held everyone quite and hardly anyone eating. She sat in front of her mirrored dress and brushed her long brown hair until it was silky smooth. At fourty-five, she, along with many others, were surprised that very few gray hairs shown. And even the few that did seemed to accent her hair. She adjusted her breasts in the top of her red silk nightgown before pulling the matching silk robe over her shoulders. She didn't know why, but she dabbed just a touch of perfume on her neck before rising and looking herself over before heading to bed. She then put out the lamp, leaving only the glow of the fireplace to light her way. "Good night, Robert," she said as she turned away from where his single bed stood on the opposite side of the room. She had barely made it half away across the large room when there came a knock at the french doors leading out to her flower garden. Pulling the robe tighter around her, she went to the doors, expecting to find Henry there. She gasped as she stepped back a few steps and allowed the tall muscular figure of Draven Thomas to enter her bedroom. She began to stammer as she asked, "Is..is.. Is there something I can help you with?" She only stared as he closed the doors behind him. He removed his hat and duster before saying, "I want you Diana. And I know from the looks you have given me, you want me too." She again gasped as he pulled her into his embrace. "Please," she whimpered as his mouth softly moved over hers. "Please what," he husked. He didn't allow her answer. His mouth mashed hard to hers as he kissed her. Her soft whimper and then melting into his arms told him all he needed to know. His tongue lapped at her lips and then slipped between them, passionately igniting the fire in her that had laid dorment for so long. She let her tongue play with his. "I need you," she moaned as they took in a much needed breath. "I need you!" She felt her silk robe fall from her shoulders; then thin straps of her gown. With her clothes on the floor around her feet, she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her and carried her to her bed. She couldn't help but thinking that she wouldn't be lonely tonight. Draven gently laid Diana on her bed and then just as easily lowered himself next to her; his mouth never leaving hers. His hands roamed her body; first kneeding each breasts, teasing the nipples to harden numbs before moving down to the soft black curls between her legs. He groaned as her legs spread enough for his hand to cup her curled mound; feeling the heat radiating from the core of her womanhood. He kissed down her neck as his finger teased the swollen numb. He heard her moan as he slipped a finger into her. He groaned with excitement when he felt just how tight she was. But then why wouldn't she; it had been fifteen years she had felt a man between her legs. He raised himself to his knees and removed his shirt. In the glow of the firelight, he looked at her naked body. Her breasts were firm and the nipples hard nubs. "I want you Draven," she whispered as she sat up to kiss his chest. Her hand rubbed the front of his breeches, finding the hard shaft that she was looking for. "I want to feel you deep within me." He groaned as she began to tug at the front of them. He stood to remove them and his boots. Once again, he laid himself on her; her legs spread wide to accomodate him. He leaned forward and drew a breast into his mouth. He heard her gasp and then moan as he sucked and teased the nipple. The tip of his manhood now touched her tight, wet opening. "Fill me," she whimpered. "Fill me with your youth. Remind me what it feels like to have a man in me." It was all he needed. He thrusted himself in, making his way about half way in before hearing her gasp. It was then he felt how truly tight she was. It was almost as if entering a virgin. Pulling back just enough he pushed the rest of the way in. Again she gasped. His eyes met hers; he saw the look of satisifaction on her face. "That's not all," he husked as he slowly began to move in her. Diana felt herself cum quickly as this much younger man moved in her. She fought off the need to scream at the top of her lungs. Instead, she let out a very long and low moan as he brought her again to that glorious point. "Draven," she moaned as he increased his rythem. Soon she felt her muscle clamping down tightly on his hard shaft; the explosion she felt deep inside her left her weak and grasping hold of his well muscled arms. She hadn't realized that she had been hold her breath until she gasped for much needed air as he slowed his pace. Before she knew it, she was straddled of him. Her body taking from him what she desperately needed. She began to ride him hard; almost bucking as she felt explosion after explosion vibrating threw her. "Ride me, Diana," he husked. "Ride me. Take from me what you need." To her surprise, she rode him harder. She could feel the ripples of the veins in his thick, hard shaft. Each on could be felt with each pass she made on him. Finally, it was too much for her. She collapsed on him, panting and gasping for air. Again he moved them. Now he was behind her. She felt her hips being pulled up to meet his need; fulfilling her own as he pushed in her. His pace was just as hard as hers had been. She felt him going deeper into her with each thrust. She screamed over and over into the mattress under her. His hands tighten on her hips. And then then together they released. He slowed his movement in her, milking himself of every drop before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down on their sides with him. For the first time in fifteen years she felt completely sated. She wiggled closer into his arms. She felt his mouth softly touching her ear as he said, "Happy twenty-fifth Anniversary, Mrs. Garrett. I hope that I've made it memorable for you." Her eyes opened and across the room she saw her husband laying there. She knew that she should feel guilty for what had just happened, but she didn't. She moaned as she said, "You certainly have. Now if all my nights could be like that." "They can," he said. Two days later Diana swelled with glee when Robert's lawyer returned with the news that the young man was not Robert's son. The young man had finally admitted that his mother had fallen in love with Robert, but had never been able to seduce him into her bed. He had only hoped that Diana wouldn't have fought his claim and that he could have revenge for his mother. All winter long, Diana and Draven contiued their love affair. Rumors had spread through the hands at just where he was spending his nights. But no one was willing to say anything to Diana herself. It had been on one of his nightly visit to see Robert that Henry found him dead. Diana was still in the kitchen helping Sissy clean up after the men. Henry had just sat there with his old friend. For he too had known the man as long as his lawyer had. He sat there calmly as Diana entered the room. "He has passed," he said somberly. "I found him already gone when I got here." He started towards the door, stopping as he reached her, gruffly saying, "You can now move your lover in here with you. Thou I doubt you took that into account as you made love to him in your marriage bed." "Don't judge me," she countered. "I was true to him for twenty-five years, Henry. Everyone has their breaking point." The older man nodded at her. "I guess your right, Diana. I'm sorry. You did stand by him when he needed you most." He then smiled at her. "Have a good life." They buried Robert the following day. Henry gathered his things and left after the funeral. Diana married Draven a month later. The ranch emproved even more with the two of them working together. |
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