Crescent City in The Rockies Pt. 01

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft spell check. You have been forewarned.

Blackrandl1958 had recently organized a 'Writers Go West' soiree. The bulk of those stories were posted in Literotica on November 23, 2017. I was not asked to participate; I felt no slight at not being contacted. Most of the writers that did participate are far more talented than I. But after reading their wonderful tales, I felt compelled to try my hand at the Western genre.

I hope you enjoy this series. It will be posted in two parts.

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The train chugged along slowly, rocking and swaying from side to side. The clackety clack of the iron wheels as they struck the joints in the rails was a comforting sound.

Merilee Burgess leaned her beautiful brunette head against Dr. Daniel Richard Jordinaire as she slumbered. He smiled down at the girl, knowing she'd be horrified to learn that she snored as she slept. It was a light, wheezing snore, but the eighteen year old girl did snore.

He had seen the beautiful Merilee Burgess on the station platform in New Orleans, Louisiana. The Crescent City, they called it, as it was nestled in a curve in the Mississippi River. A slice of Hell, he called it. In truth, he would miss it; he had called New Orleans home for thirty six years.

He had grown up along Canal Street, had played hoops with friends, cousins. He had met and married Annette Tulle and had fathered two boys and a girl. His three children had perished, victims of the Ague.

It was with elation, and some fear that Annette disclosed that she was again, with child. The birth was a long, difficult one, but with a final scream and sob, Annette pushed her baby out of her belly.

And the newborn child was black. Upon recovering from his bewilderment, Daniel vowed to horse whip the Negro that had fathered this black bastard. That night both Moses Edwards and Cleofus Jones fled the Jordinaire home. Whether they had fled because they believed that they might be the father, or they fled because they feared Dr. Jordinaire would horse whip them without bothering to determine their innocence or guilt made no matter to Daniel. Moses had been lazy, adept at avoiding work and Cleofus had been a dullard, good at physical labor, but in need of constant supervision.

What had become of mother and child, Daniel did not know. The moment she was fit for travel, Daniel had packed four satchels with Annette's clothing and brought her to her father's door stoop. Mr. Tulle took one look at his daughter and her bastard child and slammed the door. He refused his only child entry into his Christian home. Daniel turned a hard face to Annette's pleas as he climbed into his buggy and sped away.

"It didn't mean anything, my eye," Daniel thought bitterly. "And no, my dear harlot of a wife, we shall not be getting past this blatant act of betrayal."

Twelve years; twelve years of courtship, then marriage frittered away. He had held her letters to his heart as the bitter war toiled on, looked forward to the day he could return to his home and marry his beloved Annette Tulle.

Upon volunteering, Daniel had informed General Daigrepont that he was a dentist. General Daigrepont stated emphatically that Daniel was now a surgeon.

"I've no need for dentists, man, but we've always need of good surgeons," the man stated.

"No, I'd say some are in dire need of a skilled dentist," Daniel had said drily, looking at General Daigrepont's horrible chipped and stained teeth.

But Daniel had learned the skills of an Army surgeon, setting bones, removing bullets, amputating limbs that were too badly mangled by the horrible instruments of war. When General Lee finally surrendered, Daniel had wearily returned to his beloved New Orleans. His dental practice again flourish, he did enjoy the inclusion into New Orleans' upper society. But in truth, Daniel Jordinaire was a defeated, hollow man. The marriage to Annette Tulle had slowly begun to lift the clouds from his eyes. The births of his children had buoyed his spirits.

But this blatant infidelity of his beloved Annette stripped him of the shreds of any happiness the cursed war had not scoured away.

Daniel believed people were whispering about him from behind his back. He believed there were those that laughed about the poor cuckolded dentist whose wife deigned to consort with Negros.

The newspapers were filled with accounts of the glories that lay out west and Daniel decided that a new beginning was in order. After the ravages of his wife's betrayal, the west beckoned, offering fresh skies, fresh soil.

Selling all of his holdings, except for the tools of his trade, Dr. Jordinaire decided upon Colorado. The newspapers described the majestic sight of a sunrise as it peeked over the towering Rockies, the clear and sweet tasting springs that wound its way through those mountains, the plentiful game, and the newfound lodes of gold and silver.

So, with a final farewell to friends, acquaintances, Daniel stood on the platform and waited. And he saw Merilee Burgess, dressed in her Sunday's finest, waiting to board a train. Two female relatives, he supposed them to be mother and sister, or perhaps mother and aunt fussing about the beauty.

A conductor called out for them to board and immediately, a ruffian in threadbare suit politely offered to help the lady with her baggage. Daniel knew, the majority of these 'helpful' lads would grab the baggage and scurry away.

"See to it that you do assist her," Daniel said in an imposing voice.

The ruffian glanced over his shoulder and saw the broad shouldered, muscular man. The female and her two companions would find it difficult to give chase, but this man would give chase and would most likely apprehend him. With a grim nod, the youth did assist in helping the woman with her carpet bag.

"Thanks, sir," the ruffian then smiled when Daniel handed him a nickel for his labors.

"I would have done fine without your assistance," the young lady said petulantly.

"I am quite sure you could have," Daniel smiled and found a seat on the car.

Soon, the train lurched. With a squealing and grinding, with several hard jolts, they were finally underway. As New Orleans began to pass by in a blur, Daniel allowed himself one last thought of his beloved Annette. Then he turned his thoughts to what lay ahead of him in the west.

Before the train had even reached Baton Rouge, the young beauty was approached by three different men, each offering to keep her company during her travels.

"Train's got all kind of varmints might take advantage of pretty young thing like yourself," one grinning dandy said.

He had sat on the bench next to Merilee, even casually draping an arm over her shoulders. The woman was seated close to the window; the suitor's position had her trapped.

"Do you wish to be rid of this buffoon?" Daniel asked the young woman in French.

He knew she spoke French, she and her female companions had chattered in French and in English. He knew not, nor cared if the leering man spoke French.

"Please," the flustered young lady responded, all trace of composure gone.

"Sir, kindly leave my daughter be," Daniel said in English, making sure the dandy saw the Colt .45 pistol at his sides.

"Oh! I am terribly sorry, I uh, I didn't realize," the man stammered.

"I'm sure you didn't," Daniel said, leaving the man with his pride intact.

"Thank you," the young woman said.

Daniel took the seat opposite her, giving her the bench to herself.

"I am grateful to help," Daniel smiled kindly.

They chatted pleasantly. He discovered that she was eighteen years old, was a native of New Orleans as himself, and as himself, was on her way to Colorado.

"I am betrothed to William Jacob Benhurst the Third," she said proudly.

From a small purse, she produced a photograph of a youth, hair parted in the middle and plastered to his head with grease. Daniel thought the youth looked arrogant, smug, but said nothing of this. He himself had sat and posed for a photograph and having to sit still for such an extended period of time, waiting for the image to develop had caused his own photograph to make him appear quite uncomfortable, stilted.

"His father is the mayor of the town, which, by the by happens to be named Benhurst," Merilee said proudly.

"And how did you happen upon William Benhurst the Third?" Daniel inquired politely as he handed the photograph to the girl.

"He had placed an advertisement in the newspaper," Merilee said.

She explained that they had exchanged letters and she had even sent him her own photograph. Upon receiving her photograph, William had written to her that he needed no further correspondence with her; he wished for them to be married forthwith.

"I happen to have one here," she giggled happily and produced a second photograph.

"And what else do you have in that bottomless handbag of yours?" Daniel teased. "Perhaps a horse?"

The photograph showed a strikingly beautiful young woman. The photographer had managed to detail her thick lustrous hair, her pale eyes, her fair complexion, the sine chiseled nose and chin, and her full pouting lips.

The photographer had also managed to capture Merilee's substantial chest. As she was leaning forward slightly, arms upon a table, it appeared that she had two melons inside of her bodice. The collar of the dress afforded a tantalizing glimpse of fair colored cleavage.

With some reluctance, Daniel moved to hand the photograph to Merilee.

"No, you should keep it," Merilee encouraged.

She placed a light hand on his arm. To do so, she had to lean forward, a maneuver that gave him a glorious view of the girl's impressive bosom.

"After all," she said in French, should anyone be eavesdropping. "A father should have his daughter's photograph, should he not?"

"I shall keep my daughter's photograph next to my heart," Daniel vowed and placed the photograph into the pocket of his shirt.

She inquired about the scar under his eye. She even lightly touched the blemish with a gloved finger.

"Oh! You were in the war?" she gasped when he relayed that it had been a Union Colonel's sabre that had sliced his skin.

"Yes, a surgeon in the Blind General's army," Daniel admitted.

"General Daigrepont?" Merilee gasped. "My father served with him!"

Daniel shrugged when she inquired if he had known an Anatole Burgess. The truth was, he had known Corporal Anatole Burgess, known the man to be a sniveling coward that deserted their post at the first crack of gunfire. The General had ordered Anatole and two other deserters to be hung for this crime.

But Daniel could see no reason to divulge this information to this young lady. He did remember one of the men whining and sniveling about his wife and girl at home in New Orleans. But there had been burlap sacks over the three prisoners' heads as the ropes were attached.

"A wife? And a daughter? All the more reason you should have held fast," General Daigrepont had screamed, even punching the bound man. "To protect those fine women! Their honor, their virtue. That, men, is why we stand together against the cursed Union."

"There were many in General Daigrepont's army, dear Merilee," Daniel said quietly. "Some died before I could know them."

General Clayton David Daigrepont had been a general in the Confederate Army, given the post more out of favors owed than because of his skills. His men came to be known as the 'Day Late' troops; they were always late arriving to the battle fields, long after the Union soldiers had moved on to newer battle sites.

Outside of Paulton, Louisiana, in route to Vicksburg, Mississippi, General Daigrepont's men happened upon a large army of Union troops, also in route to Vicksburg. The battle was quite fierce and in the heat of the battle, General Daigrepont was blinded by shrapnel. Not wishing his men to lose hope, thus losing the battle, the man led charge after charge until the smaller Confederate army emerged victorious.

As the train chugged steadily along, Daniel and Merilee lapsed into comfortable silence. One more dandy, a man that had boarded when the train stopped in Lafayette, Louisiana, did attempt to chat Merilee up. This cretin even went so far as to place his hand directly onto Merilee's fine upper thigh.

"Sir, remove your hand from my daughter's leg, or relinquish that hand," Daniel said, brow furrowed in rage.

The dandy turned to retort, then froze at the sight of Daniel's large Bowie knife.

"Conductor? This gentleman wishes to deport," Daniel said loudly.

"Right, off with you," the conductor said.

The man loudly protested but the conductor, a rather stout man marched the lout to a rear compartment of the train until the train would reach its next scheduled stop.

"Perhaps it would be best if I were to sit next to you," Daniel suggested.

He hastened to reassure Merilee that he meant no disrespect, he had no ulterior motives. He only wished that she should spend the rest of her travels unmolested.

"Agreed," Merilee said.

Then with a smile, she added, "Pere."

"But, how is it that you are travelling unchaperoned?" Daniel did inquire as he sat next to the comely young lady.

"Oh, William did send the money for a train fare, but I am afraid neither Mother nor Aunt Annie had adequate funds to accompany me," Merilee confessed.

"Then you should have requested that William send the fare for them as well," Daniel said forcefully.

Now, hours later, the dear child leaned heavily against him. Her breast pressed into his arm, her well-shaped thigh pressed firmly against his leg.

In Dallas, Texas, they were made to switch trains. Daniel assisted Merilee in securing her bag. Then he located his own trunk and satchel.

"May I buy you the evening meal?" Daniel asked, guiding her toward the small dining area attached to the station.

"Oh! I did not think to, oh Daniel, I've no money for food!" Merilee confessed.

"Again, something William should have foreseen," Daniel thought to himself.

"Well, dear daughter, Pere is here," he smiled and she flushed and smiled.

After their meal, after both had tidied up in the station's washrooms, the conductor called out their train would be deporting soon.

"Right on schedule," Daniel complimented the conductor as they boarded the train.

Both Merilee and Daniel were well and truly exhausted when their train finally chugged and squealed and ground to a halt in Denver, Colorado. The stationmaster informed Daniel that Benhurst, Colorado was one day's journey by stage coach.

"And when does the next stagecoach depart for Benhurst?" he asked.

"Tomorrow at twelve noon, precisely," the man said.

"Well, I need two for that coach, and these pieces to be on that coach," Daniel said and paid the man.

Then Daniel scratched his scalp. It had begun to itch, to feel quite dirty.

"And, might you know where my daughter and I can obtain lodging for the night?" he asked.

Merilee smiled and placed her hand on Daniel's arm.

The man pointed out a lodging. He also promised to secure their bags and make sure they were on the next coach.

"And is there a telegraph office near?" Daniel said.

"Right this way, sir," the man said, unlocking the small office.

"Merilee, you should send William a telegraph, let him know you shall be in Benhurst on the following day," Daniel ordered.

She composed a simple message and the stationmaster tapped the code for Benhurst, then sent the message.

"Now, my dear, wouldn't you like to have your hair done up? Look your best when you meet your betrothed?" Daniel suggested. "I shall be making use of this barber here."

"Oh, Daniel, do keep the mustache!" Merilee encouraged.

She gently traced his bristles with her gloved finger. She smiled up at him.

"It looks so handsome, sophisticated," she cooed.

Daniel didn't share her opinion; he knew there to be a few dots of gray in the brown hair. But with a smile, he nodded his head.

"As you wish, dear Merilee," he said.

He thought a full dollar for a shave and a haircut to be quite pricey, but the barber pointed out it also included a soaping of his scalp so Daniel agreed.

"And my daughter says I am to keep the mustache," he told the barber as the man lathered up his hair.

"Got it," the man nodded.

"You have missed your calling," Daniel said when he was finally able to see the man's handiwork.

"How's that, sir?" the barber said, smiling.

"You should have become a butcher instead," Daniel groused.

Outside of the shop, Merilee again traced his bristles with a finger and smiled at him. He smiled in return; her touch was welcome to him.

He did feel a twinge of jealousy, a momentary regret that William Benhurst the Third would be enjoying this delightful creature's touches in the future. He shook that thought off and offered the girl his arm as they strolled from barber to hotel.

The hotel had rooms available, and also sent up two wash bins of scalding hot water. Daniel languished in the hot water, then used the harsh lye soap and scrubbed until his skin was reddened. He thought of Merilee, just across the hall, also making use of a wash bin. He thought of her luscious breasts, wet, lather coursing from them.

His Annette had possessed two well-formed breasts. Those hillocks of flesh had been capped with dark nipples, dark areolae that had dribbled her milk as she nursed their children.

Annette's cleft had been covered by a thick profusion of brown hair; Daniel wondered if Merilee should possess a dense thicket of hair. Or, perhaps, as a young country lass from Mississippi, just a fine mesh of brown hair. That girl, after all, had been only eighteen, just as Merilee.

His cock swelled to full hardness as he thought of Merilee scrubbing, covering that triangle of brown with a sudsy lather. He had happened upon Annette once as she stood in the wash, soaping her profusion of brown curls and even buttocks and anus.

Then he thought of Annette hefting the hem of her dress and allowing a Negro to fornicate with her, impregnate her. His erection wilted straightway.

Daniel stood, dried himself and stepped out the now cool water. He hollered into the wall horn that he was done with his wash.

"Very good, sir," came the faint reply through the wall horn.

In the morning, Daniel walked across the hall and lightly rapped on Merilee's door. A moment later, she opened the door and smiled up at Daniel.

Merilee had her hair done, and had put a fresh gown on. After breaking their fast, they walked to the station to await the stagecoach.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" the stationmaster said when Daniel pressed a one dollar coin into his hand, a gratuity for the man's excellent service.

Then Daniel assisted Merilee into the dark interior of the small carriage. She placed a dainty foot onto the iron rung riveted to the bottom of the high carriage. Her left hand gripped the hand of Daniel, her right hand gripped the handle affixed next to the carriage door. Daniel put his right hand onto the small of her back, then gently urged her upward.

His hand did travel down momentarily as she stepped up. His hand did momentarily come into contact with a well-formed buttock. Again, Daniel felt that momentary twinge of jealousy for this William Benhurst III. He then stepped up and took the bench opposite of Merilee.

"Only them two?" the stagecoach driver complained when the stationmaster closed the door of the carriage.

"Yes, only the two of them, and the mail," the man snapped.

The stagecoach sped off. As it traversed the well beaten trails of Denver, it was a fairly smooth ride. Only the occasional lurch or bump could be felt within the carriage.