Stormfeather Ch. 12

You may decide that you prefer a woman's touch always or you may decide to be as I am quickly finding myself to be, one who likes both - with the right persons."

She laughed softly to herself, "But then I am a slut, Sabrina. I could likely find enough to keep myself pleasured well, armed with only a wheelbarrow."

Sabrina found herself laughing too at the mental picture of it. "You're not serious," she said.

"I do not know," Ximena chuckled, "I chose it as a silly example at first, but they do have long handles.

Come on," she smiled, "let's got to bed and you can show me a little of what you know of all of this that we might share between us, as you said. Part of me still feels no desire for it, and part of me does at the same time, though I confess that it seems to have more to do with you as a person than anything else. No tearing of shirts, no hair-pulling, and no forcing of anything from either side. I hope that is enough."

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Sabrina awoke once in her bed a couple of hours later. She sighed and drifted off to sleep again, still in Ximena's arms, feeling that she was safe. More than anything else, that was what Ximena had been trying to instill.

The next time that she awoke, Sabrina found herself alone, though well tucked in as the weak first light of the dawn came to her past the edges of the window curtains. Ximena stood at the door and smiled back once before she left the room.

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"Well, where is Stormfeather, then?" the old woman asked as she sat herself down to her breakfast. She laid her books down beside her plate and cutlery. "I'm up and out of my bed for the first time in a long week and it's all because of him. If my Amy's taken a husband, well then I insist on meeting the man properly and not while I'm lying at death's door."

Ximena smiled as she held out a large cup of steaming coffee to her employer, "They left just before dawn, Maeve," she said, "All that they told me was that they were going hunting. They took Miss Winky with them. They just saddled up and left."

"Hunting?" Maeve snorted, "And you believed a pack of tales like that, Ximena? What the hell can you see if it's still dark? They're not hunting, you sweet fool girl, I know my own great niece and I've had me a look at her man. The only things they'll come back with will be their own sloppy grins, I'll wager. I'd lay odds that the only thing that they're hunting is a quiet place to fornicate, the two of them."

"Now Maeve," Ximena grinned in spite of herself, "that's not a very nice thing to say, is it? You know Amy, she's always loved to hunt. And now she's got a man who loves that just as much as she does, that's all."

Oh, trust me, Ximema," Maeve grumbled again, "They're out there someplace under a tree, copulating up a storm."

"How do you know that?" the housekeeper said with a barely concealed grin, "I know that you're a very wise woman, and I've always looked up to you because of it, so I'd really like to know now, Maeve. Why do you say that as though you're so certain?"

Maeve picked up her cup and brought it to her lips, "It's not AS THOUGH I'm certain," she huffed, "I AM certain of it. They're screwing, Ximena, and I'm damned sure of it, too."

"How then?" Ximena chuckled, happy that Maeve was back to being her old irascible early morning self.

"Because I've seen him," Maeve growled, "and that's what I'd be doing with a man like that, back in my day." She winked as she took a long careful sip, "As sure as sin, I wouldn't let a man like him get away if I had to tackle him, leastways not until he'd nailed my backside to the ground a few times, for damn sure."

The comment burst Ximena's composure, and she laughed until her sides hurt. The sound of it caused Maeve to grin, since it had been her plan all along to make Ximena laugh because she loved to hear it. The sound also made Sabrina laugh, and Maeve suddenly noticed her for the first time as she stood in the corner, sipping her own coffee and looking out of the window to see it when Amy come back.

"I thought you said that they took this Miss Winky with them," the old woman smiled.

"That's not Miss Winky," Ximena chuckled, "This is an old friend of Amy's from Portales, Maeve. I'd like you to meet Miss Sabrina de la Cruz. She met Amy in the town there, and Amy hired her to teach at the school. She rode back with Amy and Arn yesterday."

"Is that so?" Maeve smiled, "Well you come on over here if you please, Miss Sabrina de la Cruz. Sit down with me and have some breakfast. Ximena can whip you up most anything that you'd want, or you can show me that you've got a little good old common sense and have a hot bowl of porridge with me.

You have a bowl of this every morning, and you'll live to be a mean old bitch just like I grew up to be. And who wouldn't want that? It's good for you and it'll stick to your ribs."

"I think I've got enough on my ribs for the moment," Sabrina said, meaning that she was not thin like her friend Amy.

"Only up top," Maeve smiled as her eyes took in the cleavage on Sabrina for a moment. What was there wasn't terribly large, but it was plain that Sabrina wasn't exactly under endowed. "Fair enough. We'll skip the porridge today, Sabrina."

She laughed a little, "Come on over here and sit with me anyway. I don't feel much like reading all of a sudden."

Sabrina sat down and after a bit of a friendly argument, it was decided that Ximena would prepare some bacon and eggs. "Please forgive me for asking," Sabrina said, "but what you said, would you, ... would you really want to do that in Amy's place when you were younger?"

"What?" Maeve asked. "Oh probably. I learned a long time ago, when I was younger than you, my young friend, that a girl ought to take her pleasure whenever and wherever it comes to her -- as long as she's not obvious about her own business and she can pick her time of month. I was never one to stand and try to be a part of the wallpaper if I found a young buck who fancied me if I felt the same about him. Why do you ask?"

Well, it's just so different from the way that I grew up," Sabrina admitted, "that's all."

"Sabrina has lived her life under a very strict set of rules, governed as the lowest living thing in her family," Ximena remarked with a bit of how she felt showing clearly. "She has asked me to help her adjust to life here, and I'm happy to take her under my wing."

"Well that's certainly good to hear, Ximena," old Maeve said, as though she'd arrived at a decision herself. She looked at Sabrina and winked, smiling, "You just learn whatever Ximena offers to teach you, my girl. Something that I've always been a little proud of, when it comes to my housekeeper, Sabrina, is that she knows how to carry herself in almost any setting. She knows when to stand up and speak, and she also knows when to duck and run if she needs to. Ximena knows instinctively when to fade back, and when to stand out, at any given moment. That's just one of the abilities which make her so good at what she does."

Maeve leaned a little closer and spoke in a whisper that was plainly meant to be heard. It was said in that way so as to add to the effect of her words, "And Ximena also knows how and when to enjoy herself. She might run this house like a ship for me, but she is a valued servant and a very dear friend to us, Amy and I. When she takes a man for herself, we always admire her choice -- for as long as it lasts, and we cast no judgment. We know that one of these days, she'll find the right one. In the meantime, she has her fun and we enjoy our speculation, wondering if the latest one might just do the trick for her."

Sabrina had watched Ximena a little carefully, waiting to see if Maeve's words would cause her any discomfiture. She was a little surprised to see that the lovely housekeeper wasn't shy about what was said in the least. She remained the beautiful and slightly enigmatic Latina, whose pride and grace showed in her bearing and confident poise.

"Your posture could use a bit of work," Maeve observed with a nod to Sabrina, "A lot hangs on how a woman carries herself," she said, "the way that she stands and her attitude. Look at Ximena. She's perfectly relaxed and at ease, and yet, every stance that she assumes is as a pose which has been struck with absolutely no thought to it and every one is quite fit for an artist to paint."

"That is part of what I wish to learn from her," Sabrina said, earnestly.

"Sabrina has agreed to be my pupil," Ximena smiled, "so I'll have a servant of my own for a little while."

"That's good," the old woman said as she turned to Sabrina, "That's a quick way to learn. It has nothing to do with servitude -- it just teaches graceful movements and offers a lot of opportunity to practice what is taught. You do know that some of it will of necessity be somewhat uncomfortable, don't you? Has she explained that to you?"

"Yes," Sabrina blinked through her spectacles, "I wish to learn quickly and Ximena told me that it has to be that way then."

"It does, Sabrina," Maeve said, "but to learn it in that way produces lasting results."

"And also dull aches and pains in one's shoulders, neck and back for a time," Ximena nodded, "It's the price which must be paid."

Sabrina was about to say that she understood, but their attention was drawn by the clatter of nails on the wooden porch. Ximena stepped to the door and was almost pushed aside as the red wolf nosed it open wider and trotted in, sniffing for a moment at the smells of food before quickly finding the new human sitting at the table.

"Well what in the name of creation is this?" Maeve stared, not wanting to move for the moment.

Sabrina laughed as she tousled the animal's ruff and ears, "Not what," she chuckled, "This is Miss Winky."

Maeve regarded the happy canine face for a moment, "Well she's a beauty, "she said, more as a pronouncement than an observation as she reached for the plate of bacon on the table.

"You might want to be a little careful if you're thinking about offering her anything," Ximena warned with a smile, "Amy says that she's wild, that's all, and she's very quick."

"I can see that," Maeve nodded as Winky's eyes snapped their focus onto the single piece that the old women held out for her.

"I can also see that she's not stupid," the old woman said, "She's a very smart girl who knows what hangs in the balance."

Winky eased herself closer and stretched her neck out, taking the small piece of bacon very carefully in her teeth and easing herself back before she began to chew it in a very pleased and yet thoughtful way.

"Don't give her very much," Amy said from the doorway, "I don't want to spoil her. It's best to leave her wanting -- for her, and everyone else."

"Fiddlesticks and malarkey," Maeve pronounced, slipping the wolf a second piece. She slapped her hand on Winky's shoulder and they all heard the dull thump of the solid bones and muscle underneath the furry skin. "Look at her," she said, "why I don't even know how she managed to crawl up the porch steps in her weakness. She's all skin and bone, the poor thing. She just needs a little love, that's all."

Amy frowned a little as Winky sat down beside Maeve's chair and looked up at her new friend and benefactor. The look in her eyes spoke volumes of her opinion and joy at finding such a fine and noble acquaintance.

The three of them stared at Amy as she stood in the doorway. "What sort of clothing, ...?"

Amy smirked, "Oh please, I made Arn dress up in clothes that would keep the people in the streets here from losing their minds, since it's a bit out of the usual these days for a man to dress in the way that Arn normally does. That doesn't mean that he has to give up what he's always known, does it? I did marry a man whose background and culture is different from my own, you know."

"Fair enough," Ximena said with a smile, "but does that mean that you have to give up what you've always known?"

"Maybe," Amy replied, "You might not understand it, but he made these things for me and they feel wonderful to wear. They're not all about keeping me bound up and hidden away like what you and I have to wear around here. I love wearing these things. If I had to make a choice, Ximena - one or the other - I'd choose clothing like this any day"

"They make you appear a little wild," Ximena chuckled, "it's as though you were captured as a child and reared by a tribe somewhere."

Amy smoothed out a wrinkle in one of her leggings before she looked up, "So?"

"What Ximena means is that you're dressed as more as a savage than as a -"

Amy looked at her great aunt, "A woman of the fashion around here? A woman who has to dress in some slavish fashions from Europe which seek to keep her half tied up so that she can't run if she feels like it or finds that she needs to? I've always hated the styles that make us look as though we don't have any feet. They're kept hidden away as though women are creatures who can only glide along in some mysterious way because God forbid what might happen if a man actually sees that we have legs.

Why, he might get it into his head that he'd like us to spread them for him once in a while. I'd like you to tell me what they're all thinking anyway, Aunt Maeve.

You can call it savage all you want to. I know there are fine women among the people who wear clothing such as this - even their simple dresses are more practical than what you have to wear. What a woman wears shouldn't cause another of us to look down our noses at her.

I'll wear what I want to," she said as she walked into the room, "I always have, haven't I? I know what to wear and when, depending on how I wish to be seen. There was nobody out there this morning but my husband and I, and away from here, I sure won't ask him to wear clothing that makes him uncomfortable. Don't ask me to be any different."

"Well I like the way that you look," Sabrina grinned a little as she reached for the long rear flap of Amy's breechcloth. She lowered her head a little as she lifted the deerskin section, "What are you wearing underneath that, anyway?"

Amy lifted the section to show that she wore another, shorter one underneath. "Out there," she pointed to where they'd come from, "comfort and practicality speak pretty loudly to me. You ought to try it sometime."

"I actually think that I'd like to, sometime," Sabrina grinned a little shyly.

Amy's gaze fell on the three books lying one atop the other next to the old woman's place setting.

"What are you reading?" Amy asked.

Maeve moved two of the books aside, "I'm only reading this one," she said, holding it up, "I've just received it and it cost me a pretty penny, too."

"Maeve searches the world through various book-dealing firms for strange books and texts to add to her vast collection," Ximena smiled to Sabrina, "some of the titles alone would curl your hair. I can say that -- and I only dust them on the shelves."

"This is an old one, hardly printed at all," Maeve said proudly as she set her glasses on her nose and read out the title, "'The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies, A Study in Folk-Lore and Pshychical Research' by Robert Kirk, M.A. Minister of Aberfoyle, A.D. 1691"

"Do you believe in such things?" Sabrina asked.

"Why not?" Maeve asked, "There are many things on the Earth which refuse to be either defined or ignored by so-called learned men. She set the ancient book down carefully and picked up another. This one was old in appearance as well, but it looked to have been well cared for and at present, it had a red ribbon tied around it with a bow. She held it out to her great niece.

"I had no warning that you were on the verge of making such a serious committal with a man, my dear, and I have been confined to my bed as well, so I had no time to devote to finding a gift for you. I hope that this will provide at least some amused enlightenment."

Amy thanked Maeve and held up the gift. "Al-rawd al-'atir fi nuzhati'l khatir", she read, "Holy cow, Maeve that's a mouthful. How am I supposed to -- "

"The first part is in Arabic," Maeve smiled, "the translation is the second half."

Amy's fingers flew to find that part, and she read out the title slowly in a little amazement and awe, "The Perfumed Garden of Sensual Delight by Shaykh Muhammad ibn Muhammad al-Nafzawi". She began to read a little as her great aunt smiled, and Amy's eyebrows rose higher after a few moments.

"Holy smoke, Maeve, this is a -- "

"A manual by which men and women might learn to please each other. It was written in the early 1500s in the city of Tunis by a learned man. It was first translated into French and then into English," the elderly woman grinned, "And you're welcome."

"Thank you," Amy whispered as she bent to kiss Maeve's cheek.

"I'm sure that you've already figured out at least a few of the things in there," Maeve smiled again, "but the rest should prove amusing and interesting."

"By the way," Maeve asked "How many?"

It took Amy a full second to deduce what her great aunt had meant. "Oh," she said, "just one, but he's a nice size," she said, standing aside from the doorway to point to the javelina carcass which her husband carried on his shoulders as he headed toward the shed to hang it before it would be butchered.

"I've no doubt of it," Maeve smiled, a little pointedly, "but that's not what I meant when I asked. What I meant was, how many times?"

Amy clicked after another second and she smirked as she walked to pour herself a cup of coffee. "That's none of your business, Aunt Maeve."

"You're quite correct," Maeve chuckled, "it's none of my business at all, though your happiness is a concern of mine, just as it's always been, Amy."

"Well thank you," Amy smiled over the rim of her cup.

"I was just going to use your answer to illustrate a point," the elderly woman smiled back, "that's all. Purely as an --"

"You're a nasty old biddy," Amy laughed, "If I was in Portales, "they'd talk about me in a rotten way and make something up. Are you going to hold my doings up as a point of pride? What are you going to illustrate -- the number of notches on my bedpost?"

"Something like that," Maeve grinned with a nod through the doorway at Amy's husband, "He's a red-hot wonder to just about any woman breathing, Amy. And I've heard you described as a cool drink of water on a hot day by some men around here. I was just wondering, that's all. When you get to be my age, ..."

"Oh for Pete's sake," Amy chuckled, "Once, alright?"

"You see, Ximena?" Maeve cackled, "I was right. They were fornicating -- just as I said."

The other women laughed until Maeve looked at her great niece a little narrowly, "Just the once?"

She smiled as she looked off toward where Arn stood washing his back and shoulders, "You must have done it out in the open, in some tall grass, probably."

The others laughed a little more as they watched Amy's jaw almost fall open. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Oh," Maeve said airily, "It's just something that comes with a bit of age -- common sense and a little wisdom," she smiled, "when you're young, you don't care much what you're lying on. Once you get a little older," she nodded, "you learn to do it under a tree early in the day if you're outside. There's no wet morning dew on the grass under a tree. Your hair is wet at the back."

"Well where the hell do you think the javelina was then?" Amy grinned. "He was under the only tree for a long way around when we saw him. We only saw his head and shoulders over the grass because he'd mounted a sow."

Ximena stared at her friend a little. "You mean to say that you shot a wild boar while he was, ... isn't that being just a little cruel?"

"I don't think so," Amy said, but none of them said anything for a moment.