Lulabelle in the West Bk. 01

"Did he come back? He must have."

"He was only in town once in a while, to sell cattle, and I was gone and didn't see him again. I'd moved on to a nicer house, in a bigger town."

"You musta got lotsa tips, everywhere you went."

Lula nodded. "I always thanked the good Lord for my red hair. There's a saying that red hair is golden when it comes to the cathouse trade. Big boom-booms don't hurt any."

Olive smiled, and Lula smiled, too.

Gussie and Hetty were out for a walk that day. Some of the flowers had faded, but new ones were in bloom, pink ones and some that were especially blue, the kind of blue that plays tricks with the eye and looks almost out of focus. Gussie picked one and held it to her nose, inhaling its subtle perfume.

"Does it smell like the West that you imagined?" Hetty asked.

Gussie smiled a smirking smile. "Do you mean the place that I expected to be evil and filthy and coated with a film of vaporish animal dung?"

"Why did you come, Gussie, if you truly thought that?"

"Hetty, you already know my mind better than I do. Do I have to admit that I craved the sight of a wild cowboy's horn? Truthfully, just the sight of his softened hammer would have sufficed and left me in good stead. You understand those cravings as well as anyone."

"I do. But I still wonder how this place and its ways compare to your imaginings."

"I imagined a few things correctly. The dustiness; the poker; the handsome good looks of your cowboys."

"The poker? I have trouble believing you imagined a game that stripped you of every stitch of your clothing."

Gussie blushed. "I'd...heard of such things."

"And?"

"And what! Do you wish me to tell you I'd contemplated it, many years ago?"

"An actual offer of it?"

"No!" Gussie said, still blushing. "Just...a daydream, I guess you'd say."

"Was there a particular man involved, who you wished to play this imaginary game with?"

"There was, and I shan't mention his name!"

"You were aware of Edwin's fascination with the game of poker."

"I was. And now we'll change the subject."

Hetty smiled. "As you wish, dear sister, but I don't know what your worry is. Your dear husband Boone has fucked me countless times, many of them after your wedding to him. If you had sexual thoughts about my dear departed husband it wouldn't bother me in the least."

"Hetty, you're incorrigible. And I love you. Does this flower smell like the West I imagined? No, not particularly. It's better. It's bluer and, more beautiful. The sky is bluer, and the grass is softer, and the water sparkles like a crystal chandelier. The men are handsomer, and their hammers are so much more than I imagined. Ever so much more. For some odd reason I'd never imagined the hot warmth of them. I knew they hardened, yes, but the hot warmth and the oddly soft feel of their hardness had never entered my daydreams. Had you thought of it?"

"No, I suppose I hadn't."

"And the mouths! I didn't have the slightest inkling of mouthfucking, or any of its variants."

"Yes, those were revelations to me as well. When Edwin put his mouth on my cunt it shocked me, but it was one of the nicest surprises of my life. I must admit I took to mouthfucking his big cock right away, and the over and under was the thing that stoked the fires of my whorishness. Did you find it astonishing, the first time?"

"I did. I'd seen you do it, remember? With Wesley, in the night? But my first time with it, I'm embarrassed to say, was with...dear Lula."

"Lula?" Hetty said, her eyes wide with surprise. "You and Lula?"

"It was when you and Boone and Elijah were away, at town for those three days. Two nights. Lula...worked her magic on me."

"She must have! What of Wesley? He must have been there."

"He was," Gussie said, blushing again. "The two of them...taught me things. The over and under was on Wesley's bed. He sat on Boone's bed and watched, just a few feet away."

"I've told you how men love to watch."

"Lula had me try it both ways," Gussie said, "the under, and then the over, and when I was the over she directed Wesley to...he took me from behind, while Lula's mouth was still on me."

"Yes! That's...oh, Gussie! I had no idea you were in the throws of it that wonderfully while we were away. I mean I knew something of it, but...my goodness Gussie! You took the bull by its horns, didn't you!"

"I don't feel as if it was I who took the bull, I feel it was the bull who took me."

Hetty smiled knowingly. "Lulabelle is really quite something, isn't she. Did you enjoy your ride with her yesterday? Did she teach you more of the secrets of womanly pleasures?"

"Hetty, it was just a nice ride. We rode all the way to the western end of the valley. We watched beaver swim with branches in their mouths, working on their dam, and we saw turtles, and a mink that wasn't yet a coat. She showed me where Wesley does his trapping. It's a dark woodland that feels like a fairytale. Have you ridden there?"

"Yes, last year."

"She talked a lot of her sister," Gussie said. "Do you think the letter she wrote that Boone took to town last week will reach her without a proper address?"

"I think it will, yes. It will have gone out on the train, and the postal office in San Fransisco will locate her. Lula addressed it with the general area so it shouldn't be difficult for them."

"Lula wants her to know that she's found a home and she's happy."

"Yes, Gussie," Hetty said, putting her arm around Gussie's shoulder. "We sisters all want happiness for each other."

—

Chapter 20

Obediah Sikes rode the southern flank, the dusty side of the cattle drive on that day. The herd — one-hundred young Texas Longhorns, a mix of cows, heifers, bulls and steers — was moving west, across an arid plain, heading for the mountains that bounded Perryville Valley.

The letter Obediah received from Hetty was in his saddle bag, packed in amongst his belongings, wrapped in a spare shirt along with a small drawing of his mother, a portrait done by a friend of the family. It was his only precious thing, and it felt right and proper when he tucked the letter in next to it. He'd been mostly happy at his job at the Abrams Ranch, but the time he'd spent helping to build the Perry homestead was the highlight of his life, by a wide margin, and a lot of it had to do with Hetty. The memories of her riding bare chested with her big breasts bouncing were still fresh in his mind.

He thought of Hetty as a one-of-a-kind woman, a freely sexual wife with the spirit of a joyous whore, and he and Cornelius and Padraig were all deeply saddened when their friend and employer Edwin died unexpectedly, ending the experimental way of life that was blossoming in Perryville Valley. When Hetty's letter arrived at the Abrams Ranch and he realized who it was from, he opened it with such haste he nearly tore it in half. And so, riding toward the valley again, knowing Hetty was there, was a time of deeply curious expectation. Could she possibly be the same free-spirited woman she had been, now that her step-sons lived there? Did the death of Edwin take it all out of her? Her letter was upbeat, as far as letters go, but it held precious few details. Mostly, it was an offer of a job, a chance to continue building Perryville, a chance for a long-term future that he might not have at the Abrams' place. Of course that made good sense to Obediah, but it was the lure of Hetty Perry herself that caught him and hooked him — the memory of her well preserved older-woman body, naked in the sunlight, and the haunting recollection of the beautiful sounds she made when the raptures swept through her. They were sights and sounds he hadn't been able to shake off, even nine months later.

The cattle drive reached the lead-up to a mountain pass just before sundown, so the boys and Obediah made camp for the night. They sat around a fire, drank whiskey, ate dried beef and hard tack, dreaming of a good woman's good cooking as they gnawed on it. It was the first chance at casual conversation between the boys and their new hire.

"Hetty speaks very highly of you," Boone said to Obediah. "She told us you carried our father to the house after his fall."

"We thought sure he was fine," Obediah said, his voice low and resonant, the way you'd expect a big man's to be. "He was up after just a short spell, back to work the next day. None of us was expectin' him to die."

"Did he treat you well?" Elijah asked.

"We was all like brothers, and your daddy was one of us. And your step-momma, she was..."

Obediah's words hung there, his thoughts unspoken.

"Hetty's sister accompanied her back here, and she's staying on," Boone said. "She and I were married up in Stonefeld on our last ride there. There's two other women, and our young hand Jacob here, all of us living in the bunkhouse you helped build. If you don't mind the lack of privacy you'll be living there with us, unless you'd like to bunk in a barn loft."

"Four women? All...out in the open?" Obediah's rustic face showed his deep curiosity.

Boone nodded and a slight smile brightened his eyes. "Hetty worked some kind of magic on them. She tells us you fell under her spell as well. Is that right?"

Obediah's eyes brightened the way Boone's were, but he wasn't sure of what to say.

Boone decided to leave it there, and let the rest be a nice surprise. "Father had big ideas. He wanted Perryville to be a real town. We've found all his drawings and plans. We'd like to get started on some of it someday."

"I heard tell that your daddy's carpenter's still around these parts," Obediah said. "Padraig McDermott's his name. If'n he knew Hetty's back he'd come work for you folks again. I'm sure of it."

"If he would we'd love to have him join us," Boone said. "Have you a woman, Obediah? If you do she's welcome, but she'd have to be of the right frame of mind."

"There's a widow over in Rock Ridge. She'll be wonderin' about me, wonderin' where I went."

"How do you think she'd see things, knowing Hetty as you do."

Obediah smiled, starting to get the picture. "Don't know. Guessin' she might be okay with it."

"How old a widow is she," Wesley asked.

"Guessin' fifty-some years."

"Does she wear all the layers?" Elijah asked.

"Not that I've seen," Obediah said. "She lives out beyond the edge of town. Sorta keeps to herself. One day when I rode up, she knew I was comin', she showed herself outside her door in just breeches and a lace-up. She was smilin' real pretty."

"Come winter we'll be needin' another hand or two," Boone said. "Any of the boys at the Abrams' place seem brotherly? They'd need to be of the right frame of mind as well. We don't need any drunks or braggarts; no men who are coarse with women. Young ones like Jacob here might work out well."

"There's one or two," Obediah said. "One of 'em's sweet on a chamber maid at the hotel up'n Stonefeld. She's got them kinda magic eyes that are all big and blue. A big bottom girl, but right pretty if you got the right eyes for her."

"We found all of our father's drawings and plans. Let's try and get Padraig to join us and maybe we can get another bunkhouse up before winter. We'll build things out the way father envisioned, along a main street."

"After we get a house done let's build the saloon," Wesley said.

"You don't like father's poker table?" Elijah asked.

"We'll need a bigger one," Boone said. "More room for more players."

The idea of it percolated in Elijah's mind the way clear river water turns into a nice cup of hot coffee. More hired hands. A carpenter. A widow with a corset to unlace, and a pretty young girl with a curvy bum and big blue eyes. He pictured Hetty organizing a poker game, and discarded clothes slowly building into a pile on the dusty floor. He asked his older brother, "Do you think...they'll all be game?"

"Ha!" Boone said. "With Hetty around? I'll bet my last chip on it."

—

The next morning dawned clear and blue, with a fresh breeze blowing in from the West, seemingly all the way from the far-away ocean. The cattle were gathered and pushed up and through the rugged pass, cresting the height of land about mid-day. The drive pressed on and the valley came into view, its miles of prairie meadow split by the sparkling waters of Three Brothers River. Obediah stopped his horse and took a moment to let the scene soak into his dry, dusty eyes. The bunkhouse and the barns were off in the distance, with the faintest darkness of smoke rising from the cookstove chimney, and there, closer but still far away, looking like dollhouse toys with the magic of life in them, were the women, all four of them out for a ride, bare-breasted in the mid-day sun, their horses running briskly through the meadow grass and flowers.

—

Epilogue

July 23, 2018

Perryville Valley, Colorado

A warm breeze from the west carried the scent of dry grass and wild flowers, blowing away the dust that rose from the makeshift parking lot on the old main street of the quiet ghost town of Perryville. Jeeps, Range Rovers, and expensive 4-door pickup trucks gleaming with chrome gathered there, and men and women wandered the empty streets, looking at the empty buildings, rapping knuckles on rough-sawn wood, assessing the condition of the well-preserved buildings. Others were gathered under a tent top, in front of an auctioneer's podium, ready for the land broker's auction. Just one item was on the block: The entire remnants of the old ghost town, and the thousands of acres that surround it.

Most of the gathered bidders were land barons and ranchers. In their hands they held bidding paddles with numbers on them, and glossy full color brochures with photographs of the old buildings, Three Brothers River, and the grassy valley and surrounding foothills and woodlots.

"Do you know the history of this place?" a man asked another.

"I heard some things," the man said.

"The whole darn town was nudists. A free-love commune ninety years before the hippies tried it. Close to a hundred people lived here before it started to dwindle."

The man nodded. "Did you see the movie? My wife didn't want to let me watch it, but I told her it was research, to get ready for the auction, you know?"

The first man smiled and nodded. "Supposedly that's the only movie ever shot here, but there's folks from Hollywood here today, thinking of buying up the whole place. There aren't too many ghost towns preserved this well."

"So you watched it? The movie?"

"Yeah, I watched it. Did some reading about it, too."

"Are you talking about the movie they made here?" another man asked. "What's the story behind it?"

"It's a true story about this place, about the two sisters who moved out here and turned it into a free-love commune. The whole town was, what do they call it now, clothing optional."

"No kidding?"

"Yup. The movie about it was pretty amazing," the man said, shaking his head, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I never thought I'd see so much nudity in a movie that's not porn. I guess there was a big uproar about it. It got that NC17 rating, but church groups and parents groups were all up in arms and wanted it to be X-rated, like hard-core porn. I googled some articles about it last night. I couldn't help thinking this place was more advanced a hundred and thirty years ago than we are today."

"So who was in the movie? When was it made?"

"It was about twenty years ago, back in the nineties. Meryl Streep played the older sister. The article said she missed out on her annual Oscar nomination that year because of all the controversy. The character she played, Hetty, she's the one who sort of made everything happen. This town wouldn't have become what it did without her getting the ball rolling in that direction. In the article I read, Streep said it was fun to play someone who was that single-mindedly horny. She said this place got in all the actors heads in a funny way. I'm pretty sure she meant they were horny, too. Linda Hamilton played her sister Gussie. She's the one who married the oldest brother."

"She married her brother?"

"No, man, the brothers were her sister's stepsons. It's a true story, man. You can't make this kinda shit up. Gussie, who Hamilton played, she started out this real proper church lady and she ended up with an open marriage, having sex with every guy that lived here. Orgies and stuff."

"Holy shit! Linda Hamilton did orgy scenes? I remember her. She was hot!"

"Yeah, man, it's fuckin' wild. She's got a rockin' body. Shoot, I can't remember the name of the girl who played the whore. Oh, yeah, Christina Hendricks. She's the redhead from that Mad Men show, but back then she was in her twenties. Damn, she's got a body on her! Nicest tits I ever seen in a Hollywood movie."

"Yeah, I watched Mad Men. I remember her. She did nude scenes?"

"Oh, yeah! They all did! Tons of 'em! Liev Schreiber played the oldest brother, named Boone. He had the biggest part of the men, and, he's pretty big in other ways, too, if you know what I mean. It's a real sausage fest. They must have cast the guys for their dick size."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. And I swear to God the sex scenes looked like the actors didn't have to act, if you know what I mean. Meryl Streep gave Liev Schreiber a beautiful slow handjob that was sure as hell real. They even showed the jizz flying, and her head went down on him and..."

"Damn! Meryl Streep? I gotta watch that!"

"They shot it all right here, my friend. Perryville. A ghost town with a story to tell."

THE END