B00BWX9H30 EBOK (17 page)

Read B00BWX9H30 EBOK Online

Authors: Cynthia Woolf

“Singing Bird,” said Ella, enveloping her mother-in-law in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I thought it should be close to your time and I wanted to be here for the birth of my grandchild.”

“Son, Mother. A grandson,” said Nathan

“You do not know this Nathan,” admonished Singing Bird. “You could be having a little princess.”

“As much as he fights with me, it must be a warrior,” he laughed.

“Oh!” said Ella.

“What?” asked Nathan.

“I think we may be finding out sooner rather than later.” She looked down at her feet. “My water just broke.”

Nathan was on his feet and swooped her up in his arms before she could say another word.

“Mother, get the supplies we need. We’re going to have a baby,” he said as he carried Ella to their bedroom. He set her gently on her feet.

She unbuttoned her dress and dropped it to the floor. Her bloomers followed. She left on her chemise, needing some modesty.

Singing Bird came in a few minutes later carrying a pitcher of hot water. Martha followed with towels and scissors.

“We’re ready. It’s just a matter of waiting now for the little one to make its appearance,” said Singing Bird.

“Ella’s going to be just like an Arapaho woman. She won’t make a sound as she gives birth,” announced Nathan.

“Where did you get the idea that Arapaho women don’t make noise when they give birth?”

“Well, that’s what I was told and whenever the women of the village had babies, we never heard them.”

“The men left the village or the women did. That’s why you never heard anything. You are an idiot, my son, if you think we don’t scream when we give birth. It is no different for us than for a white woman. If Ella wants to scream, she will scream.”

“Stop arguing both of you and send for the doctor. I want the doctor here.”

“I already sent one of the men to fetch him,” said Martha.

“He should be here in an hour or so, if he’s in the office.”

“If he is not,” said Singing Bird as she brushed Ella’s hair back from her face. “I have assisted in many births. You will not be alone in this, my daughter.”

Ella was calmed by Singing Bird’s words and settled back to wait for the birth of her child. The first pain hit hard. It took her breath away. She’d barely had time to catch it when the next pain came. And so it went, every five minutes for the first few hours.

The doctor wasn’t in the office and so their man left a message for him with his wife. He was out on another birth, but would come as soon as he could.

Nathan felt helpless. He hated seeing Ella go through so much pain. When the contractions started coming every two minutes or so, he almost had to be escorted from the room.

“If you can’t maintain control of yourself, you must leave,” said his mother. “Ella needs you to be strong.”

Nathan nodded and buried his worry. Singing Bird would take care of Ella. He placed his faith in his mother.

He sat by Ella’s side holding her hand.

“You should leave now Nathan. You can do nothing more here and should not see it when she gives birth.”

“I’m staying. Ella needs me.”

Ella looked up at Nathan and squeezed his hand. “I’m scared.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re young and strong. You got shot for heaven’s sake and came through that just fine. You will this too.”

“It is time. Ella you need to push now. Push very hard,” said Singing Bird.

Ella beared down, pushing as hard as she could. Then she had to stop and catch her breath. Her body was ready for this baby to come and she pushed again. Again and again she pushed until the little one slid out into his grandmother’s waiting hands.

“You have a son. A fine young warrior.” Singing Bird quickly tied off and cut the umbilical cord then handed the baby to Martha who took it and cleaned it up.

When she was done, she handed the baby to Ella.

Ella took her newborn son and opened the blanket to see him. He was beautiful. A carbon copy of his father with blue eyes and midnight black hair. He had all his toes and fingers. She counted just to make sure.

“You have said nothing, my son. Congratulate your wife on a job well done.”

Nathan looked from Ella to the baby and back again. Then he reached down and took one of the tiny hands with his fingers. The baby grabbed his father’s finger. Nathan looked at Ella and grinned. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for my son.” He kissed her so softly, she thought she would cry from the tenderness of it.

“I love you. You’ve given me everything I could ever want. A home. A baby and most especially, you my love,” she said through her tears of joy.

He rested his head on top of hers. Together they watched their baby until he started to fuss. Ella put him to her breast and helped him find her nipple. He latched on and began to suckle.

“What shall we name him?” asked Nathan.

“I was thinking that maybe we could name him after our fathers.”

“Robert Benjamin Ravenclaw it is.”

The three of them fell asleep. Nathan holding Ella and she the baby. A family for all time.

 

Excerpt from

Gnome On The Range

by Jennifer Zane

 

Chapter One

 

“I’m not sure which one I want. I didn’t realize there were so many choices!”

The woman wasn’t on the hunt for a new car or juice boxes at the grocery store. Nope. She wanted a dildo. I called her type a Waffler. Someone who contemplated all options before even attempting to make a choice. Because of Miss Waffler, I had ten different dildo models spread out across the counter. Glass, silicone, jelly and battery powered. She needed help.

That’s where I came in. My name is Jane West and I run Goldilocks, the adult store in Bozeman, Montana, my mother-in-law opened back in the seventies. Story goes she named it after the fairytale character when a mother bear and her two cubs walked down Willson right in front of the store the week before it opened. She called it fate. Or it could have been because her name is Goldie, so it made sense. I started working for her when my husband died, a temporary arrangement that helped her out. Three years later, things had turned long-term temporary.

The store was tasteful considering the offerings. The walls were a fresh white, shelves and displays just like you’d find at the typical department store. Then tasteful made way for tacky. Gold toned industrial carpet like you’d see in Vegas, a photo of a naked woman sprawled artfully across a bearskin rug over the counter. A sixties chandelier graced the meager entry. Goldie had to put her unique stamp on things somehow.

It wasn’t a big store, just one room with a storage area and bathroom in back. Whatever she didn’t have in stock—although you’d be amazed at the selection Goldie offered in such a small space—we ordered in. Montanans were patient shoppers. With few options store-wise in Bozeman, most people ordered everything but the basics from the Internet. There’s one Walmart, one Target, one Old Navy. Only one of everything. In a big city, if you drove two miles you came across a repeat store. Urban sprawl at its finest. Not here, although there were two sets of Golden Arches. One in town and one off the highway for the tourists who needed a Big Mac on the way to Yellowstone. The anchor store of the town’s only mall was a chain bookstore. No Nordstrom or Bass Pro Shop out here. You shopped local or you went home.

In the case of the woman in front of me, I wished she’d just go home.

Don’t get me wrong, I liked helping people and I’m comfortable talking sex toys with anyone. But this time was definitely different. Big time.

Behind Miss Waffler stood a fireman. A really attractive, tall, well muscled one wearing a Bozeman Fire T-shirt and navy pants. Can you say hot? A hot man in uniform? Yup, it was a cliché, but this one was dead-on accurate. He’d come in while I was comparing the various dildo models before I went into the perks of having rotation for best female stimulation. The first time.

“Can you explain the features of each one again?” Miss Waffler had her fingers on the edge of the glass counter as if she were afraid to touch them. Petite, she was slim to the point of anorexic. Her rough voice said smoker, at least a pack a day. Her skin was weathered, either from cigarettes or the Montana weather, and wrinkles had taken over her face. She’d be pretty if she ate something and kicked the habit.

I gave her my best fake smile. “Sure.”

I darted a glance at the fireman over the woman’s shoulder. Sandy hair trimmed military short, blue eyes, strong features. Thirties. A great smile. He seemed perfectly content to wait his turn. If the humorous glint in his eye and the way he bit his lip, most likely to keep from smiling, was any indication, he was clearly enjoying himself. A radio squawked on his belt and he turned it down. Obviously my lesson on sexual aids was more important than a five-alarm fire.

Miss Waffler was completely oblivious of, and unaffected by, the fireman. I now knew why she wanted a dildo.

I picked up a bright blue model. “This one is battery powered and vibrates. Three settings. Good for clitoral stimulation.” I put it down and picked up another. “This one is glass. No batteries, so it’s meant for penetration. The best thing about it is you can put it in the freezer or warm it and it provides a varied experience.”

The woman made some ah sounds as I gave the details. I went through all the possibilities with her one at a time. I got to the tenth and final model. “This one is obviously realistic. It’s actually molded from the erect penis of a porn star. It’s made of silicone and has suction cups on the base.”

Fireman peered over the woman’s shoulder as I suction cupped the dildo to the glass counter. Thwap.

“You can attach it to a piece of furniture if you want to keep your hands free.”

Both fireman and Miss Waffler nodded their heads as if they could picture what I was talking about.

“I’ll take that one,” she said as she pointed to number ten. The eight inch Whopper Dong.

“Good choice.”

I rang up Miss Waffler’s purchase and she happily went off to take care of business.

And there he was. Mr. Fireman. And me. And dildo display made three.

“Um…thanks for waiting.” I tucked my curly hair behind an ear.

“Sure. You learn something new every day.” He smiled. Not just with his mouth, but with his eyes. Very blue eyes.

Right there, in the middle of my mother-in-law’s sex store, dildos and all, there was a spring thaw in my libido. It had long since gone as cold as Montana in January. Who could have blamed it with all of my dead husband’s shenanigans? But right then I felt my heart rate go up, my palms sweat from nerves. The fireman didn’t seem the least bit phased by my little sex toy talk. I, on the other hand, was having a hot flash like a menopausal woman just looking at him.

“I’m Jane. What can I help you with today?” Hi, I’m Jane. I’m thirty-three. I like hiking in the mountains, cross-country skiing, I’m a Scorpio, and I want to rip that uniform off your hot body. I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts.

He laughed and held out his hand. His grip was firm, his skin warm and a little rough. “Ty. Thanks, but no toys for me.” A pager beeped. He looked at it briefly and ignored it.

“Don’t you need to answer that? A fire or something?” I asked.

“Cat up a tree,” he joked.

I laughed, and heard my nerves in it. I took a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart. It didn’t work. All it did was make me discover how good he smelled. It wasn’t heavy cologne. Soap maybe. I didn’t really care if it was deodorant. He smelled fabulous.

“Actually, it was for station two. I’m here for your fire safety inspection.” He placed papers on the counter. Had he been holding them all this time? I hadn’t noticed. For the next fifteen minutes we went over fire inspection paperwork with an elephant in the room the shape of a dildo.

 

Excerpt from
 

Killing Secrets

by Karen Docter

 

Copyright 2013 by Karen Docter

 

Four weeks….

Two days….

Sixteen hours….

…’Til death.

 

The first time he laid eyes on her, he stood on the threshold of a doorway he dare not cross. He fell into her fathomless dark gaze, unable,
unwilling
to shake his soul free and, in that one moment, he knew.

She was meant for him to love.

Untouched by the sordid life that flourished around her, she was sunlight in a gray existence. A smile in a dingy room. A joy such as he’d never known. She was a gift from a cold, unforgiving God. Forever innocent.

Why God would give him such a precious angel, he didn’t know. But he suddenly knew what he was willing to die for. What he’d kill for.

In that instant of clarity the monster that lurked in the dark recesses of his mind was freed. A creature designed to kill. To live and die. Over and over again. Until his angel ascended once more to her place in Heaven at God’s feet where he couldn’t reach her.

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