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Red Oak
By : DarkDavea
Category: Twilight Series > Het
Views: 1346 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.
Chapter List
- 1-Red Oak
- 2-Maggie
- 3-Parsons'
- 4-Away
- 5-Elliot
- 1
- 2
- 3
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. I do not own Twilight, and I do not make any money from these writings.

~~~ Here is the next one. But beware, my support group has not had a chance to look this over. but one chapter is just not enough.
~~~

Whitlock Homestead, Ellis County Texas, September 2nd, 1861.

John made an early morning. Packing his few belonging and rolling up his bed spreads I found him preparing his saddle for departure.

“My mother will be sore with you, John, should you leave with no grits and bacon.” I badgered.

“You’re too good to a Soldier, Jasper, especially one who brings news you sorely don’t want to hear.”

“Brother in arms goes deeper than the sword can pierce.” Besides, that ration food won’t go to waste if it sits another day in its tin.”

He stopped, looking the can in his hand over and weighting the barely edible taste against the time it would take to consume a breakfast and return to his duties. Not at all a hard choice considering his next meal required tools to open it. “A quick meal then.” He agreed.

My Mother wouldn’t let him leave without a full days supply of home cooked meals and a pie for ‘whoever he saw fit’. I myself took the liberty to place a special feed pouch on his saddle, one that was specifically designed to give his horse energy and hasten the healing. Once again the stallion showed his gratitude with a nudge.

“I think my Stead prefers your company far more than he does my own.” He teased, though the irony of the sentiment was not lost on me.

“I’d wager as much, though you’d have to ask him.”

He kicked off and I shared the pain of the beauty as the spurs dug in. A magnificent breed, running as though he was free. It filled me with joy to see how much happiness I could bring an animal simply with a brush and feed. If only people were so easy to please.

Anna would not let me linger too long on my marvels as she quickly made her own appetite known with a feed bag to the back of my head. I turned to see that she had again let herself out and was ready to start our daily routine.

Three-Hundred brush strokes each side, till the light from the loft was reflected, then a feed bag on her mussel. I pulled over my shoeing stool and began to pull the pins from her shoes. I suppose after weeks of wear I would feel as relaxed as she was now. I fine manicure and lacquer to prevent cracks. The smell of her hooves once clean made me think she might fancy herself a princess of horses.

Since she was 3 there was no need to tie her up. She would venture a bit but had always known I would do no harm and would lookout for me. Our bond being far beyond my capacity seemed her primary nature.

A reheat in the furnace I kept outside then the sear to set the shoe. I would not hold so still as she with a molten hot iron U on my nails. But she never gave an indication of discomfort. Then I hammered in a cool one.

“Nice pretty pair of heels for a magnificently beautiful Arabian Queen.”

Her Winnie made me laugh and my mother joined our happy moment when she brought out a napkin filled basket.

“You know the Smithy in town would do that for a half penny and a loaf of bread.”

“Anna is self conscious of her feet; she doesn’t like it when others see her without a nice pair of shoes on.”

“Talking to the horses my son? I should have you committed but the hens would have no one to collect the eggs.” She handed me the basket and after a kiss to both my ladies I made my way to the fenced pasture.

The gate swung open with the familiar ‘creak’ and Anna let loose a gallop. The shimmer from the sun always made me think she should grow wings and fly away like a mythic Pegasus.

The hens bothered my mother though she never did tell me why. When I was away leading my scouting party she would have the hands collect the eggs. As it were, I have to collect them. Not that I minded. Manual labor is a past time that I like; I can be fully productive and still have my mind to myself.

She used to say when I was growing up “The females of this world will be competing against all species for your affection, and the males will follow you like dogs.” This all seemed more and more relevant with my first commissioning, at least for the males’ potion. My men were loyal, but I think it had more to do with my effective tactics and concern for personal issues than my compassionate nature.

Though that being said, the coup still goes quiet for a brief second when I enter.

I take delicate care with the Ladies of the coup bringing with me a conversation of how my day has gone and what things I have seen, as though I were talking to inquisitive school girls.

A dozen eggs are returned to my mother and she adds it to the collection of fruit and pastries she will take to the farmers market on the back of the four wheel carriage.

“Are you certain that you won’t need me today?” I said while helping my mother into the carriage seat.

“I’m not old yet my son, and besides, Mr. Baker has promised to help me load and unload for a piece of my rhubarb pie.” She untied the reins off the post and sat back still a scowl on her face.

“If I had known that’s what you were cooking yesterday I would not have stayed away so long.”

“Last time I let you know, you ate the whole batch before the crust was even ready.”

My stomach churned a bit with the memory of the ach that followed shortly behind that venture.

Her stead lurched forward with the carriage in tow and the smell of the infamous pie seeping into my head. Some things will never change I reminded myself. Others would be changed forever, I thought while looking down at the saber scar on the back of my wrist.

Life back on the ranch took little to get used to, I had only been gone two years, but the blood in my veins yearned for more than battle and I found almost all that needed comfort in the manual labor of a rancher’s life. Today I would have no choice but to ride Anna, I had more than a day’s work to do and the fence line was the first order of business.

I brought out a spool of thick rope, nails and a hammer, our working saddle and a knife to the fence, setting it up for Anna to see, and then moving into the house to get my Cavalry Stetson. The only time I wore it anymore was to keep the sun out of my eyes and off the back of my neck during a bright day like this.

The yellow acorns had been tied off by my former Battalion Commander, little comfort after spending 3 weeks on the trail of a Union guerrilla team for my men, but none the less, it’s value to me was my mission completed. To bring my men home, and keep others from the shocking effects of a surprise attack from bushwhackers.

Anna had already taken in her bit showing me that she was ready to go, and egger for me to ride once more. Something I hadn’t done since I came home. Her saddle fit snuggly, not too tight to cause discomfort and not so loose as to chafe and pull her hair out. Her saddle bags held firm and she nuzzled under my hand for my own encouragement, through which, she took the comfort in the strokes from nasal to mane. A quick upward thrust while holding the horn of the saddle and I was seated once more, not needing to look down to place my boot in the loops. It was all coming back to me.

I could feel the near intimate connection through my thighs and hands as we reconnected the very same way we had mere weeks ago. Though this time speed was not a necessity, it was still more of an impulse than either one of us could contain. We shot off and quickly hit top speed as we went to the furthest reaches of the grazing fence the distance being far greater than we had available to us in our little land outside Harris County. The same wind that tossed my honey blond hair about under the brim of my cover, forced my eyes into a determined squint to avoided the mid morning sand flies.

For a moment that would not last nearly as long as I wanted it to we were again as we had been. soothing but filled with adrenaline.

As we came up to the fence Anna slowed and came-about again sprinting at top speed to our start point at the gate, with only slowing to a speed that allowed me to spy the connections and faults in the fence. We continued along stopping at each point of disrepair. Dismounting with my tools I set to work on a half fallen beam.

With my shoulder I laid into it and lifted it back up to its seat and unbound the torn tethers. Tying it down with a new bound I made a commitment to myself to come back and set up a fence that would not need so many repairs. The labor being primarily due to the fact that when my mother had received the plot from her father earlier this summer it had fallen into disrepair. My grandfather had not been as nice to the human soul as my mother’s kinder one had been to all.

Every 30 feet or so there would be something worth stopping to repair. My time busied and I barely noticed as the sun ascended, peaked and descended leaving me in the near dusk hours. Time was not evident to me until I was making the last turn to the fence line that bordered the pastures and the vegetable garden.

“Jasper Dear, you have a visitor.” I hadn’t even noticed my mother had returned and it startled me into the reality of the hour. Her voice was coming from the family room window. With the tone in her voice I was positive I would find and old friend, a girl perhaps that I hadn’t seen in some time.

“Be right in Mother, Anna needs some feed and to be put away.” Hoping to bide my time. it’s not that I didn’t want to see any of my old friends, but the military had been a convenient way to avoid the story book drama. Anna gave a grunt of disapproval.

“Don’t keep us waiting very long dear. It’s rude you know. But we both know Anna is your favorite girl.” My mother jousted.

“Ah but Mom, you’ll always be my favorite Woman.” I emphasized. I heard her voice inflected in an effort to reach me, sure that she had said something meant for me to wonder about. Then the two giggled. A female indeed, though I could not place that laughter.

Anna was not at all hesitant to be put away for the night. She had had what she wanted; a good ride and a long day of hearty work. Then there was the fact that she had some nice new shoes to show off to the stallions.

Taking my boots off under the porch, I placed them against the wall upside down, and walked barefoot into the house.

“Margaret,” the astonishment could not be hidden in my voice nor the expression on my face.

“It’s been a long time Jessie.” The child hood name she used to call me because she could not frame her mouth correctly, sounded like it had been my name for my entire life coming from her lips. It was still the sound of a young woman. Timid and girlish. Like she was intentionally trying to sound as young as she looked.

“Much too long. How is your father?” I had no romantic feelings toward Margret, but unfortunately she had them for me. We had tried to date once in school, to appease her, and keep her from pushing me in the mud on the way home. It never went very far and her attempts to make me jealous there after only served to infuriate her more, I was not at all interested with any of thei girls around town. Margaret was my closest friend and to me she represented the sister I should have had. It would appear though that she was not over it.

“Away,” she sighed.” Away and off on another campaign. That damned Union Army cannot leave well enough alone once we decide to secede but before that they refuse to defend our boarder lands. Where is the freedom they preach when we want nothing but our own? I’ve half a mind to tell Mr. Lincoln myself to take his troops and turn trick. But mother has received a correspondence from father and she says there is something for us to discuss tonight.”

“When did you become political?” I asked as I made my way through to the open arm chair in the family room, adjacent to both of them. The leather and wood creaked under my weight but it instantly conformed to a position of comfort. My father was a gifted craftsmen when he was not also a gifted Soldier.

“When you boys went off to fight the war, women tend to get smarter.” What boys? i wanted to say, I was the only one in the whole county of my age to get a commission. And only because my father had been a ‘Hero’ and I may have fibbed about my age. Twice.

“Troubling times when a woman is forced to use the gifts God gave her.” I sneered, with a smile on my face.

“The other half of my mind has not set to do about anything, Jessie.” She warned. Trying to keep her face as stern as possible. It lasted only a short moment and we all laughed.

“What brings you here Magaret? I have not seen you since…”

“Since you said good bye.” She was not about to let that go. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to see you again? Yes I remember the day. Since then your mother and I have met at least once a month so she can teach me to crochet while I visit my aunt.” She lifted the canvas she held in indication. “Us woman have to keep busy somehow while the men are off playing your silly games.”

“It’s very good to see you, I’m sorry I have not come to visit yet.”

“It’s ok, I understand that your mother and Horse come first” her emphasis on Anna was meant to be scolding. She never liked Anna, part of the feminine rivalry I suppose.

“That was uncalled for.” I retorted with sarcasm heavy in my voice. “You know Anna can’t feed herself, and my mother, well, it’s hard to get away once she starts to cook.”

“Indeed.” she agreed while reaching for an oatmeal cookie off the side table.

My mother all the while knew I had no romantic feelings for Margaret, though I could always tell she wished I would have, that I might settle down and build a family, staying close to her.

“Jasper, our tea is running low, be a good boy and fetch us some from the stove.” Her attempts to show off how obedient I could be to my, would be, suitor.

I lifted myself to my feet, having each of my movements inspected by two sets of eyes. my mother’s pasture green eyes and the green/brown hazel of Margaret’s. The very same ones my mother said were mine’s twins. I took the moment to inspect the rest of her outfit and found it more subtle than the Sunday dresses I remembered her in at school. Which reminded me that had they not been my friends and not known my lack of affection towards her, the other boys in town might have sought to take her from me by force, a fight they would have surely lost.

The riding gloves next to the cookies and the grey cover on the peg by the door went a miss in my first pass but now I wondered where she kept her horse noting that the stable had no new occupants.

“How did you get here?’”I inquired from the kitchen as I made an attempt to see into the stable. Only to find Anna let herself out again. The smell of the spice tea filled my nose and pouring it out only made the weakness in my knees that much worse. My mother knew I was bound to pour a glass, which is why she left one out on the counter for me. The kettle held steady in my hand would have sure been shaky in her own. And the aroma demanded to be taken in after each tip to the porcelain cups.

“Your mother said she would take me here and promised me time with you on a return trip.” The indicative being I would give her a ride back.

“My mother, the match maker.” I half smiled. I wish she wouldn’t do that.

“Oh come now Jasper, it’s time for you to settle down, I want to hold my Grandchildren before these arms are too weak.” Lifting them up to grasp the cup I brought out to her and Margaret. Her hands were not weak, just the early onset of arthritis.

“I heard John came to visit” Margaret interjected to avoid the uncomfortable conversation. “Your mother tells me that my cousin was your executive.”

“Your cousin?” I was astonished. And quite nearly dropped her cup into her lap

“He never mentioned me?” her voice strained with the pain. “Where did you think the letters came from?”

“He said his cousin Maggie sent them.” Though now the connection was obtusely obvious. And I internally smacked my head for not noticing the last names, of all things, matched. Maggie Wilks was Margaret Wilks.

Her hand did a poor job to cover up the blush on her face. “I hate that name.”

“It’s a sweet name.” I quickly assured her in my most comforting tone, perhaps a bit too comforting.

“You think so?” she looked up hopeful of her charm once more.

“I do.”

“John said he had to ask you something that he knew you were going to fight with him about.”

“Jasper,” My mother admonished, “you didn’t rough that boy up did you? You know I don’t like it when you fight.” Though the sentiment came across as ironic.

“No, I heard what he had to say, and I agreed to go see him and Colonel Parsons this next Monday. I owe him a bit of leeway here.”

“Honey,” My Mother began, “you’re not off to war again are you? I just got you back.” I could hear the desperation in her voice as her eyes begged me to stay though I had not even heard a word.

“Please Jessie, don’t do this to us again.” Now they were both playing the guilt card against me. and though my Mother was quite able herself to get what she wanted, it would be near impossible to defy them both, at least at the same time. Alone.

“I’m just going to hear what they have to say. An officer of our nation has asked for my ear, and as I am no longer giving him my arm while he continues to put his life on the line for the two of you. An ear is the very least I can offer.”

“Just don’t you do anything rash, like running off again.” The swells of Abigail Whitlock’s tears began to surface as she tried to mask it with her tea. How was my father ever able to leave her side with a look like that? Margaret’s were not so hidden. Hers poured out with the pout of her lips.

“How about I won’t do anything until I know what it is he wants me to do.”

“And at least not until you have talked to your mother and I.” The added notion begging on the still quite evident attraction.

From there the conversation turned more suitably to my long days at work and the time I spend out by the stream.

“He can be gone from sun up to dusk and not a single thing done one day, and he will wake the next morning and spend hours with Annabelle. Then he will do a week’s work in the afternoon, the boy doesn’t sweat I tell you.”My mother praises quickly turned into the advertisement of my services.

“Well, if I might steal him, having so much energy, I have a peach tree that could use some trimming and the weeds have over taken my vegetable garden at my Aunt Linda’s. She has been so kind as to let us stay for the next few days. “

“I’m being sourced out as labor now?” The look of shock had trouble holding my face with the encroaching smile.

“And if you know what’s good for you you’ll shut your lips and let the ladies run your life like a good man.” Abigail was never one to back down to a man, this moment counting no less.

“Quite right.” Margaret agreed nodding her head and making the brunette curls bounce.

Before the night was over, my entire week was planned out for me and my Arabian Princess would see very little of me if these women had their way, though I managed to sort out time in the morning and evening to stow away with her.

The days came and went. I did as I was told and much was accomplished ahead of schedule. The Army had given me more energy than I was used to and more than they could contain.

Margaret would bring me lunch on a tray with pink lemonade, and sweet tea in the evening if I worked through dinner. Abigail saw no fault in my quality of work but always remarked on how I would not linger long after my day’s duties.

My chores completed I recessed to the stables and began a routine of brushing and cleaning. The help always left out the tools I would need, in a bucket by Anna’s door.

Though it was common place, Abigail would not suffer to keep slaves, her views of equality in God’s creation was absolute, and thus passed on to me. The help that Grandfather left were all freed and encouraged to work around town as well as at the ranch. They brought back a rent and took care of the place but there was never a forceful hand. They loved my mother for her kindness. Everyone in town did.

Anna saw to it after three days to get as much bedding and muck in her coat as possible, though she had previously managed to keep it impeccably clean. She did this to maintain me with her just that much longer. Her jealousy of the time I spent away I suppose.

“The horse will not marry you, nor will she bare my Grandchildren Jasper.” Abigail reminded me.
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Red Oak	By : DarkDavea Category: Twilight Series > Het Views: 1346 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

Red Oak