downwards so the fabric hung around her waist like petals. He performed the same motion for her silk chemise. He kissed the line of her neck down to her small breasts and then down to her navel. He reached under her petticoats and touched her inner thigh. Then he peeled off the dress and the petticoats, layer after layer. He thought his cock would rip right through the fabric of his trousers.
“Under the covers,” he said breathlessly.
He propped the pillows up against the headboard, leaned against it, and placed her on him while he sat upright. He pulled the blankets around her shoulders, then he slid his hands under her buttocks. He liked to feel her tight little ass. As Geneva kissed him, she ran her fingers through the thin line of hair between his pectoral muscles. When Nash came, he had visions of a volcano erupting. It couldn’t be this good for other men, he thought. Nothing could be this good.
Cuddling under the covers, he kissed her nose and her eyebrows and her earlobe. He’d avoided telling her as long as he could. “Honey, we’re mustering in the day after tomorrow.”
She stared at him, speechless.
“The infantry fellows are going to catch a train on April seventeenth, and we’re supposed to leave, too.”
“Where are you going?”
“No one knows or maybe no one is telling because there might be Northern spies about.”
“Does this mean Sumner, too?”
“Yes. I’ll take Bumba, of course. He’s happy to go. We’re taking two mounts each, plus a pack animal and a horse for Bumba and Sumner’s man.”
“Why don’t you take Big Muler? He’s near to seven feet tall. He’d be worth his weight in gold.”
“I wouldn’t take Big Muler to the corner store. He’s surly. Besides, Bumba wants to go. He’s been my sable playmate since childhood. I can rely on Bumba.”
“Do you think I’ll have trouble with Muler?”
“If you do, talk to Sin-Sin. She’ll walk on down here and put the fear of the Lord in him.” True enough, no one messed with Sin-Sin. “Actually, I think Di-Peachy has a bit more to worry about concerning him than you do.”
“What do you mean?”
“The boys up at your father’s stable were laughing about him. He’s laid claim to her. Says if another man touches her, he’ll kill him.”
“She doesn’t want any man, Nash. She told me she’d die before she’d be the slave of a slave.”
Nash frowned. “Di-Peachy better come down off her high horse. A woman’s got to have a man.”
“And a man’s got to have a woman.” Geneva nibbled his upper lip.
“Yes, thank Jesus!” He kissed her hard.
Geneva lay on top of him, her head between his breasts. “I think I’ll die without you.”
For a terrible moment he thought he would cry. He couldn’t give way. She needed him to bolster her. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, if I have to walk every step of the way. I love you, Geneva.”
She held him and sobbed.
He never felt more rotten or more loved in his life.
APRIL 16, 1861
Golden bubbles popped in the cast-iron pot. Boyd, Ernie June’s fourteen-year-old daughter, called to her mother.
“Corn’s boiling.”
Ernie leaned over her daughter’s ear and whispered low so Tincia, her other helper, would not hear. “Keep stirring, slow down the boil, no big bubbles. And I want you to stir in a handful of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon.” She grabbed the expensive, refined sugar and threw it in. Boyd plucked some cinnamon between her fingers and added it to the delicious smelling concoction. Being a political creature, Ernie June then spoke louder for Tincia’s understanding. “Girl, don’t never want to hear you talkin’ ’bout cups and measurements. That don’t make a good cook. That make a chemist.”
Corn pudding, favored by Sumner, would grace the table tonight. She’d heard the news, the men were leaving tomorrow. Well, Ernie would play her part. Boyd carefully stirred the pudding, and Ernie returned to her two other ovens. One was a
“Under the covers,” he said breathlessly.
He propped the pillows up against the headboard, leaned against it, and placed her on him while he sat upright. He pulled the blankets around her shoulders, then he slid his hands under her buttocks. He liked to feel her tight little ass. As Geneva kissed him, she ran her fingers through the thin line of hair between his pectoral muscles. When Nash came, he had visions of a volcano erupting. It couldn’t be this good for other men, he thought. Nothing could be this good.
Cuddling under the covers, he kissed her nose and her eyebrows and her earlobe. He’d avoided telling her as long as he could. “Honey, we’re mustering in the day after tomorrow.”
She stared at him, speechless.
“The infantry fellows are going to catch a train on April seventeenth, and we’re supposed to leave, too.”
“Where are you going?”
“No one knows or maybe no one is telling because there might be Northern spies about.”
“Does this mean Sumner, too?”
“Yes. I’ll take Bumba, of course. He’s happy to go. We’re taking two mounts each, plus a pack animal and a horse for Bumba and Sumner’s man.”
“Why don’t you take Big Muler? He’s near to seven feet tall. He’d be worth his weight in gold.”
“I wouldn’t take Big Muler to the corner store. He’s surly. Besides, Bumba wants to go. He’s been my sable playmate since childhood. I can rely on Bumba.”
“Do you think I’ll have trouble with Muler?”
“If you do, talk to Sin-Sin. She’ll walk on down here and put the fear of the Lord in him.” True enough, no one messed with Sin-Sin. “Actually, I think Di-Peachy has a bit more to worry about concerning him than you do.”
“What do you mean?”
“The boys up at your father’s stable were laughing about him. He’s laid claim to her. Says if another man touches her, he’ll kill him.”
“She doesn’t want any man, Nash. She told me she’d die before she’d be the slave of a slave.”
Nash frowned. “Di-Peachy better come down off her high horse. A woman’s got to have a man.”
“And a man’s got to have a woman.” Geneva nibbled his upper lip.
“Yes, thank Jesus!” He kissed her hard.
Geneva lay on top of him, her head between his breasts. “I think I’ll die without you.”
For a terrible moment he thought he would cry. He couldn’t give way. She needed him to bolster her. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, if I have to walk every step of the way. I love you, Geneva.”
She held him and sobbed.
He never felt more rotten or more loved in his life.
APRIL 16, 1861
Golden bubbles popped in the cast-iron pot. Boyd, Ernie June’s fourteen-year-old daughter, called to her mother.
“Corn’s boiling.”
Ernie leaned over her daughter’s ear and whispered low so Tincia, her other helper, would not hear. “Keep stirring, slow down the boil, no big bubbles. And I want you to stir in a handful of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon.” She grabbed the expensive, refined sugar and threw it in. Boyd plucked some cinnamon between her fingers and added it to the delicious smelling concoction. Being a political creature, Ernie June then spoke louder for Tincia’s understanding. “Girl, don’t never want to hear you talkin’ ’bout cups and measurements. That don’t make a good cook. That make a chemist.”
Corn pudding, favored by Sumner, would grace the table tonight. She’d heard the news, the men were leaving tomorrow. Well, Ernie would play her part. Boyd carefully stirred the pudding, and Ernie returned to her two other ovens. One was a
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