Summary: Ben’s wife reflects on the past and contemplates a vision of what is soon to come. What happened later for Marie, My Love.
Rating: M (Mature adult theme) (920 words)
The Vision Series:
The second floor room glowed in the soft light provided by the two, low-wicked lamps that sat on either side of her dressing table. The drapes floated from the rods as they trapped the gentle breeze that blew through the partially opened window. The covers to the large bed placed along the opposite wall were turned down in anticipation of welcoming a body succumbing to the draw of sleep. She sat on the needlepoint-cushioned bench in front of her dressing table and mirror. Bottles of perfume and jars of various potpourris were properly positioned within her reach, as well as the powders that brought color to her cheeks and the paints that lightly accentuated her lips and eyes.
Her husband was bidding a final goodnight to his sons in the room they shared on the main floor before retiring to their bedroom on the second floor. The house was still under construction, expanding upon the smaller home that Ben had built when they were just three. She smiled at the memory of Adam sitting next to his father, offering comments on the drawings and correcting mistakes his father had made between the layouts of the two floors.
She had spent such a long time feeling nothing but… hollow. Her life now was far removed from entertaining the men at her cousin’s gambling establishment. Distaste had churned deep within as the men occupying those rooms ogled at her; their eyes and hands indicating they wanted more than just to look. She couldn’t help it; the cut of her fashionable attire was meant to distract their attention from their games. She did what she had to in order to earn a living, but she stopped short of becoming the kind of woman that Jean had proclaimed.
Looking into her mirror, her eyes softened as the reflection was her, but yet not. Her golden hair haloed a slightly rounder face before it cascaded down her shoulders. Her breasts seemed fuller, heavier, and more alive as they sat above… Once before she had been with child, she remembered the experience of the life growing within her womb, only to suffer the heartache of being told later that the infant had died after only several days of life.
Grief had lain heavy on her heart before that announcement. She had spent nine months mourning the loss of her husband. How could he have thought her to be so deceitful as to lie with another man when just days before the two of them had given themselves into a deeper passion as they danced between the sheets of the bed they shared? She screamed as she awoke to a stranger in her bed; the door to their bedroom thrown open to admit the man she loved… and the shocked look upon his face.
The collapse of her marriage and the loss of her child drew her into despair; and in time she became thankful for her cousin and his offer of employment. But that too had been a lie.
With the news of the death of her long-absent husband and the vindication of her honor, life began anew for Marie deMarigny as she transformed herself into Marie Cartwright.
The door opened and closed as he stepped into the warm light. He removed his vest and laid it upon the back of the overstuffed chair within their bedroom, he reached up to untie the kerchief around his neck. Toe to heel, he slipped off his boots and gently kicked them under the chair.
As she sat there watching her husband’s reflection, the satin dressing gown she wore shimmered as the lantern flames danced, illuminating her curves. Exposed above the low-cut neckline were copious amounts of two pale, soft mounds, as the supple fabric pressed against her breasts… She dreamed of him, nestling himself in the valley between, lying with her, flesh upon flesh, his warm hands kneading, encouraging them to firm peaks before taking one to his mouth, nipping and suckling in long draughts. Her back arched, her thighs quivered, her breath came heavy and deep.
Sitting there, she continued to brush her hair in long… gentle… strokes. Dreaming of his hands… moving… stroking… loving… cupping her buttocks and lifting her… his tongue teasing her to maddening heights; she sat there, quietly enjoying her arousal while it coursed through her veins. Her soul resonated as her eyelids closed in ardent desire; her body responding to her thoughts of him.
Opening her eyes, her future reflection faded as she caught his eyes in the mirror; he slipped his shirt from his shoulders, revealing a strong, muscled chest. As he removed his belt and began to unfasten his trousers, she smiled beguiling towards him, eager and knowing. She welcomed the image of what was soon to come; the bed called, but not for slumber. Passion and excitement lived again. The ache within her was acute; she knew that during this night, the seed of life bearing the heart of the Ponderosa would be planted.
Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigue, I have had my vision.
Next in The Vision Series:
Note 1: For the 2014 Pinecone Challenges, the final sentence is provided and the author needs to write a story that preceded the closing sentence, keeping the word count below 500 words.
The May 1st prompt was: “Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigue, I have had my vision.”
This began as a Pinecone Challenge submission that morphed into another story, another time, and a different couple. My original story was of Laura Dayton thinking of Adam Cartwright and his cousin Will. Bahj commented that she thought, based on the beginning of my story, that it would be of Marie… which then inspired this story.
Read the original… Laura’s Decision.
This story was inspired by Marie, My Love: written by: David Dortort, Anthony Lawrence, Anne Howard Bailey
Tags: Ben Cartwright, Marie Cartwright
Other Stories by this Author
- Laura’s Decision (by BluewindFarm)
- The Vision #2 – the epilogue (by BluewindFarm)
- Fist City (by BluewindFarm)
- I’m Already There… (by BluewindFarm)
- Rescuing the Stillness (by BluewindFarm)