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McNeal Ranch Land, Near Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory, May 1886
All across the McNeal Ranch spring was in full bloom. The winter snows had melted away by late March and the rains in April had brought new life to the plains in the form of thick grasses which the herds of cattle eagerly feasted upon as they were guided around the ranch land.
Sturdy herds of cattle and new calves roamed across the McNeal property, guided by the expert ranch boss, John Baldwin, and his team of crack ranch hands, two of which rode their horses in formation behind John and Longbow as they inspected the ranch on their daily reviews.
“Looks like you and Maggie are gonna have a fine herd to send to market come late summer, John,” said Chase McAllister, the brown-haired show rider turned temporary ranch hand, surveying the herds with an impressed eye.
Guarding Wolf, riding alongside Chase on his own mount, nodded his head in agreement. “Burning Star speaks true, Soaring Arrow,” he concurred, grinning as he spied Chase chuckle appreciatively at the name that the Natives had bequeathed him. “Though they are not horses, these herds bring back fond memories of our youth in the shadow of the mountain and forest trees.”
John pulled his hat from his head and drew his forearm across his head, clearing away the sweat that had gathered there. “You fellas ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie,” he agreed proudly. “Though I’d be a liar and a fool if I didn’t point out that this herd wouldn’t be half as fine if it hadn’t been for you two.”
“You’re right, it wouldn’t,” Guarding Wolf said cheekily, causing the other two riders to laugh at the Native’s joking manner.
Still amazes me how this all came together, John thought idly as the laughter subsided. I’ve got my old family here with me, and more new family about to arrive.
In the wake of his wife’s fever breaking and the blizzard ending, the McNeal family had been surprised to find several tipis set up just outside their doorstep buried halfway in the snowdrifts. John had laughed when he saw them and the plumes of smoke rising from their open tops, indicating that all of the members of the tribe were safe and warm inside.
After Maggie had regained her strength, she immediately demanded that John introduce her to the Natives that he called family, a task that John was all too happy to see done. Before John had even finished the introductions, Maggie told all of them that in her eyes they were family and that they were welcome to stay on her ranch for as long as they pleased, a decree that was swiftly met with a grateful kiss from her husband.
The offer quickly proved a smart one as John immediately hired several of the experienced Native riders as ranch hands to replace the ones who had left before winter had arrived. A few grumbles of derision were heard floating from the remaining ranch hands, but all of them were quickly silenced with a single stern look from John Baldwin and his solemn vow that anyone who tried to make trouble for the Natives would have to deal with him.
Despite the initial prejudices, the Native riders and the ranch hands quickly found common ground in their respective riding skills and herding abilities. It wasn’t long before it seemed that any prejudices and misconceptions either had harbored about the other were forgotten and the two worked together as though they’d been doing so for years.
As for Maggie, she had been as good as her word since she awoke from her fever and had not been in the saddle since then, much to the relief of her mother, her sister, and especially her husband.
‘It’s not like I could ride anyway!’ she had grumbled irritably one morning to her husband as she pressed the far larger and rounder bulge of her stomach against him for emphasis. John couldn’t help but smile as he recalled that he had sagely refrained from laughing at her assessment while simultaneously calming her down with gentle kisses and firm massages to her lower back.
After the fever incident, the months had seemed to pass swiftly in the Wyoming Territory, especially for Maggie and John, until she had entered the ninth and final month of her pregnancy. With both of them knowing that the baby would be due before long, time slowed to a crawl, much to Maggie’s irritation and John’s growing anxiety.
John, however, wasn’t alone in his anxiety. Leyla had developed her own angst regarding the impending birth, specifically if it would happen before or after she and Chase left to rejoin Professor Monro’s traveling show. As she had confided to John one evening, she was worried that if she and Chase left before the baby was born, then she might not get to meet her niece or nephew for many months. On the other hand, she was equally worried that if the baby was born before she and Chase ventured out, then she might be too enamored with the little bundle to want to leave.
In spite of his anxiety regarding the whole thing and everyone else’s worries, John still felt like the luckiest man in the west. He had family, friends, land, and a fine mount.
All that’s left is to meet my new son or daughter, and I’ll be the happiest man east or west of the Mississippi, he thought excitedly before gazing up at the sky to judge the time by the sun’s position. I believe I’m due in for a check-in on my wife.
He brought Longbow to a gentle halt. Behind him, Chase and Guarding Wolf did the same with their own horses as John reoriented his ebony steed around.
“Boys, I’m going to take a ride back to the homestead and check in on Maggie,” he declared. “Think you two can manage checking on the herd without me?”
The two riders nodded in unison before they set off, neither of them requiring John to give them the go ahead as he had every faith that they’d make good on their word. As the two of them rode off toward one of the pastures, John angled Longbow toward the center of the ranch before giving the horse a gentle squeeze of his legs and sending the creature trotting forward.
“Should be any day now, old friend,” he spoke to the horse. “Just shy of a full year out here and look at us now.”
Longbow bridled at John’s assertion of their new lives, appearing to be in full agreement with his rider.
“Ain’t that the truth,” John replied, giving the ebony mustang an appreciative scratch behind his ears as the buildings of the homestead came into clearer view.
I just hope Maggie is still as excited about this as I am, he thought in half mirth and half concern.
Before too long, he’d arrived back at the center of the McNeal Ranch. He swiftly saw Longbow secured in his stall next to Apollo’s. John took a moment to give the chestnut steed a reassuring pat or two on his muzzle, given the decline in regular riding the horse had seen over the previous months, before he sauntered toward the homestead.
Even before he opened the door to the kitchen, John could tell that Abigail was cooking something delicious, a hearty aroma wafting through the open windows. As he opened the door and stepped inside, his hopes were proven correct as he spied his mother-in-law standing at the stove, stirring a wooden spoon in a stew pot with one hand while the other kept a book open before her eyes.
“Good afternoon, John,” she greeted, her eyes remaining fixed on the book’s pages. “I thought you were off checking on the herds out in the pastures.”
John offered an easy grin. “Chase and Guarding Wolf have everything in hand, Abigail. I reckoned I might take a moment to check in on my wife.”
Abigail looked up from her book with a smile, taking a moment to set the piece of literature down on the table before reaching over and grabbing an empty bowl.
“I’m actually rather relieved that you have shown up, John,” the older redhead said as she began ladling the sumptuous stew into the bowl. “My wonderful daughter is probably still holed up in the bedroom trying to get that little bundle to come popping out. Would you be a dear and bring this up to her and see what you can do to get her to relax a moment?”
The Kentuckian chuckled at his mother-in-law’s assessment of his wife and her determined ways, but he dutifully took the bowl in hand along with a spoon and a crust of bread before leaving the kitchen to go and see just what he could do about his pregnant bride.
X-X-X-X-X
With a hand pressed firmly into her back and the other resting atop the globe of her belly, Maggie McNeal all but waddled around her bedroom. Her features continually shifted from irritation to panic to joy as she moved back and forth in an attempt to induce labor.
“C’mon you little varmint!” she growled, her eyes staring in aggravation at the dome beneath her night gown. “You’ve been in there for over nine months and I’ll be hanged if you think I’m letting you do another thing to my figure!”
“And just what’s wrong with your figure?” said a familiar voice from the doorway. “I happen to think you’ve never looked more beautiful.”
Maggie turned to glare at her husband and his attempt at charm, but her baneful look softened as she saw that he had brought her food. The sight alone more than made her own stomach growl, but the scent of it awakened her passenger and she felt a stiff kick bounce off of the interior of her body, causing her to huff in surprise.
“The fact that you have food is the only reason I don’t shoot you right now for doing this to me, John Baldwin,” she threatened as she gestured at her much fuller figure with her hands.
John crossed the room toward her, still smiling in that easy way of his. The aroma of the stew he had brought her was already making her mouth water, and she took a heavy step toward him so that she might have it much sooner rather than later.
As John handed the bowl and bread off to her and helped her ease into a seated position on the bed, he gave her a rakish smile. “I seem to recall that you were a more than willing participant in the actions that brought this about, Missus Baldwin,” he joked lightly. “But I’m certainly not complaining.”
“Go eat a tumbleweed,” Maggie replied in a slightly less annoyed tone, just before dipping the bread into the stew and taking a sizable bite out of it.
The ranch boss took the insult in his stride, shrugging off his coat and taking a seat right beside her. His hand immediately moved to her back in order to rub and massage it, trying to soothe the aches all of the extra weight that her front was carrying.
I hate that he knows just how to calm me down, Maggie thought as she began making short work of the stew. But if I keep letting him and Mama distract me from this, I’m never gonna get this baby out of me! Still, that massage does feel mighty nice.
The more that her husband massaged her back, the more relaxed Maggie became, her shoulders losing their tension and her mind clearing of all the aggravation she’d been feeling up to that point. Before long she’d finished the meal and sighed contentedly, rubbing her stomach and the life inside of her.
Glancing sidelong, she saw that John was still watching her with his damned charming and loving smile. Given how she’d just eaten and how she knew she looked, Maggie suddenly felt self-conscious and turned to look away from her husband in embarrassment.
Her head, however, was quickly turned back to face him through the direction of a calloused but loving hand gently cupping her chin.
“I think I know what you’re thinking, Maggie,” he soothed, pulling his hat from his head to reveal the sweat-drenched locks of blond hair clinging to his head. “And I just want to say that you’re wrong, and that I still think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ll ever lay eyes on. And on top of that, I’ll keep loving you ‘til Judgement Day comes.”
Sappy man, Maggie thought in mild annoyance. But there was something about his earnest declaration for her continued appeal to him and his unkempt but strong appearance that was stirring something inside her, something she hadn’t felt in several months—lust.
Indeed, as her eyes drank in the sight of him, from the top of his sweat-matted head down to his firm chest and strong arms, and even lower, Maggie could feel the familiar heat of passion racing through her body. Of all the cravings that she had experienced up to that point in her pregnancy, this one was new, but she quickly decided that she had no intention of denying it.
Besides, she thought coquettishly, it probably will be the last time we can before the little one arrives.
With a bit of effort and momentum, she raised her heavier body up from the bed, just managing to catch her balance. John quickly made to stand up and help her, but she pressed her hand firmly down on his shoulder to stop him.
“You stay right there, John,” she giggled, her eyes lighting up with hungry flames of lust as she slowly waddled to the bedroom door and pushed it closed.
“Maggie?” John asked, his face betraying his utter confusion at her sudden change in demeanor.
Maggie turned to face him, a sultry grin spread across her full lips as she practically strutted back toward him and the bed. As she stood before his handsomely puzzled face, she reached her hand out and placed it softly on his chest, running it back and forth in a soothing manner. The motion had much the same effect on him as it did when he did it to her, his eyes becoming half-lidded as a pleased groan escaped his throat.
With her husband lulled into a peaceful state, Maggie giggled as she pushed on his chest and put him flat on his back atop the bed. Before John could react, Maggie hiked up the hem of her nightgown and crawled on top of him, using the weight of her fuller figure to keep him pinned.
“Maggie, are you cra—?” John stuttered only to be cut off as his wife leaned forward and pressed her finger delicately against his lips. Her positioning and angle also gave the Kentuckian a clear view of her ample cleavage through the top of her nightgown, causing him to gulp while his cheeks flushed.
“Hush, my love,” she cooed, taking his hands in hers and guiding them toward her backside, his strong palms and fingers gripping the area by reflex and causing her heart to flutter. “I want you right now, and I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Is that clear, Mister Baldwin?” She stressed the way she addressed him professionally, making it sound hauntingly erotic.
John gulped once more, but his eyes were quickly alight with the same flames of lust that hers were. “As you...” he gasped as she pressed her luscious gravid body against his. “As you wish...Miss McNeal...Oh Lord...”
Maggie smiled devilishly as she pulled her nightgown up and over her head, tossing it into a far off corner of the room. “That’s Missus Baldwin to you, ranch boss,” she insisted before bending forward and capturing his lips for a hungry kiss.
