The Sutler Wagon Ch. 3

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Georgia girl's lost love returns to her forever.
4.7k words
4.79
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/18/2001
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Two women lived together in the house on Merriwether Street in Chattanooga, and most of their older neighbors thought this behavior was scandalous. The wagging tongues of old spinsters lashed them in the privacy of parlor tea parties reminiscent of days gone by, but the parties were only the pathetic struggles of a people unable to cope with the reality of the last days of the war. The Confederacy had been split in two by the burning wind of Sherman’s march, and without the vital connections across Georgia, the proud grey army was reduced to isolated pockets of underfed, poorly clothed, ineffective resistance against the blue mariah from the North. The great South was dying, and nothing could save it, not even afternoon tea parties.

Janet Dunbar and Marion McLandon had lived together since they had helped Janet’s husband and Marion’s sweetheart escape from a prisoner of war holding camp. The women’s portrayal of sutler/whores had convinced the camp guards to abandon their posts for a bit of dallying with the ladies; during this time, the two men had secreted themselves in the false bottom of the ladies’ sutler wagon, and Janet had taken them to her home. Over the next four months, John, Janet’s husband, and Samuel Hunter, the man Marion had grown to love deeply, had fully recovered from their confinement in the disease ridden camp, and had made a decision to return to the war. The decision crushed both women, and after their men left one dark night, they just stayed together, two women in the same circumstance needing to comfort each other.

Marion had an aunt in Chattanooga, and she visited her on occasion, but her home, at least until Samuel returned, was with Janet. Although the two women had known each other for a very short four months, the bond between them had been forged by terror, laughter, horror, and love of their men. They also loved each other deeply, somewhat as sisters love, but also with the underlying physical love shared one night in a deserted house as they made their way through Georgia to Chattanooga. Marion had been overcome by the charms of the older Janet, and Janet was carried away by the innocence of the young girl, her own desperate plight, and the desire long unsatisfied by her absent husband.

They never spoke of the incident, though each remembered it as if it were yesterday, and the memory often caused one to smile at the other for no apparent reason. As the other smiled back, both understood the unspoken “thank you for being there for me”. They had not lain together since that day.

At first, Janet and Marion had spent their days in sorrow for their loss and in worry for the two men they loved so completely. Since Sherman, there had been no mail to or from any unit, and not knowing where the men were or what might have befallen them drew Janet and Marion into a private world of grief. They could share this grief with no one, because the Union soldiers were still in occupation of Chattanooga, and arrested anyone suspected of aiding the Confederacy. By March, most of the army had left, for the final battles people said, and Janet and Marion could at last speak openly of their loss.

The Confederate women waiting for their husbands welcomed them with open arms, and they had wonderful times gossiping about what this woman had done with her husband before he left, and what that one would do when her’s returned. Marion was introduced to a world totally foreign to her. Her grandmother had been a straight-laced Scottish woman who once told her sex was a dirty thing men did to women, and that women just had to bear it the best they could. Here were all these women openly, at least to other women, talking about what they liked their husbands to do with them, and how they felt before, during, and after making love.

“When we were first married, my Robert used to just hop on every Friday night and pump away for two minutes, and-”

“Two whole minutes! Charlotte honey, how did you ever stand it?” Then, all would break out in giggles.

“Well, he doesn’t do that anymore. I just showed him what I like, and now he’s a perfect lover...for me that is. Alice, when he comes home, you leave him alone. I’ve told you too much about him, and you might turn his head with that big bust of yours.” More giggles.

Marion questioned, “How did you show him, I mean, did you hold his hand and touch yourself with it, or what?”

“Well, I held on to something, but it wasn’t his hand.” Giggles again.

“No, please, how did you show him?”

“The best way to show him is to show him how you touch yourself when he’s not around. You do touch yourself, don’t you?”

“No..., well sometimes. I thought that was bad.”

“Marion, honey, you’re so naive. If it makes you feel good, it’s good for you. Only old maids tell you it’s bad for you, and they do it too; they just don’t want anybody to know. Besides, it’s not fair to either you or him to make him guess. Men are not good guessers when it comes to women. You have to teach them, and that means you have to know what you like first. They can teach you what they like, too. Then after you both know what the other likes, you practice until you get it right.” More giggles.

Marion grew to love these gossip sessions both for the companionship of other women, and for the knowledge of love she absorbed. Usually, she was the butt of gentle jokes about her unmarried status, her innocence, and her probable nighttime fantasies, but she had a sense of humor, and usually the joke was funny. She found out that women among women are different than women among men, and thoroughly enjoyed the difference.

One evening, Janet and Marion were sitting and sewing new dresses. John Dunbar owned a textile mill before the war which Janet and Marion had begun operating again. Dress material was a scarce commodity in Chattanooga, and this was the first off the mill’s loom. Janet had dyed the thread a brilliant green to contrast with their red and auburn hair, and they decided the dresses would advertise their mill products.

Marion asked, “Janet, yesterday afternoon, at Alice’s, Emily said her husband kisses her...down there... and she likes him to do that. Does John do that to you?”

“Yes, sometimes. It’s very special when a man kisses you there, kind of all slick and soft, and tingly. And sometimes I kiss him on his penis. I like that too, and he really does.”

“Oh, I know that. I saw....”

“You saw what, Marion?”

“I’m sorry, Janet. Last Christmas Eve, I was going to see if Samuel was all right, and I walked past your room, and the door was open a little, and I looked in, and I saw you, and...”

“And what?”

“And it was so beautiful, I couldn’t leave. I saw you kiss him there, and then watched you make love. I never dreamed two people could make each other feel like that.”

“We made each other feel like that, Marion, back in that little house.”

“I remember, but this was different. He looked so gentle, and understanding, and he knew everything you liked. It was wonderful, like both of you were joined into one person having pleasure. I hope someday, I can find a man like that.”

“I told you then that John was a wonderful lover, and he is. Marion, I knew you were watching, although John didn’t, and I rather enjoyed it. I don’t mind that you saw us, if it made you think about being with a man. Marion, what we did together in that little house wasn’t wrong; please understand that, but a young girl like you needs to be with a man who loves you to appreciate the feelings. It’s not just the pleasure of release; what I feel for John is in my soul, not in my body. I think you feel the same way about Samuel, and if he truly loves you, you’ll feel him in your soul when you make love with him. Janet chuckled, “You will have to teach him, though, just like Charlotte said; men are such dunces when it come to women. John used to be all fingers and fumbles until I taught him. I’m a good teacher, don’t you think?”

“If you taught him like you taught me, you’re an excellent teacher,” laughed Marion.

As winter waned, then gave way to greening grass and budding pecan and magnolia trees, Janet and Marion began to take walks in the evening to visit neighbors and just to get out into the clean spring air. They heard news of the war as published in Union newspapers, and the news was always disheartening, this many Rebels killed, that many wounded, so many captured; Janet and Marion worried now more than when their men first left. The Union army was on a rampage of destruction designed to break the back of the South, to punish it for secession, to beat it to its knees in submission, and according to the gossip that traveled through the countryside, no act was too harsh, no amount of destruction or killing was too severe if it accomplished the Union goal.

In May, news of Lee’s surrender shattered the crystal glitter of the Old South society forever. According to the newspaper, Lee’s final orders to his troops were to return home, become good citizens of the United States and begin life again. So ended the war to remove the South from northern control, and so began the northern control of the South.

Janet and Marion were just happy that John and Samuel would be coming home. The war had inundated all feelings except those for survival, and their survival meant having John and Samuel home again. The Union newspapers published lists of Confederate units as they were discharged, but since they had no idea what unit their men had joined, they had no idea when they might return. Janet and Marion could not, would not allow themselves to think of anything other then the day when John and Samuel would walk into the house, and life would be life again. They busied themselves with getting the mill ready to operate and with the coming of Janet’s baby in September.

The textile business hadn’t come back after the war for the simple reason that there was no cotton. Most of last year’s cotton had been either left in the field by plantation owners fleeing the Union army, or was taken by the Union troops. There were a few bales that managed to survive the onslaught, and Janet bought as much as she could find. Marion helped the cash situation with the two hundred dollars she had salvaged from the burned out ruin of her Dalton home. Janet employed two old men, Robert and Cecil, who had worked in the mill before the war; the two men were happy to do anything but sit at home, and worked for their dinner until the mill could turn a profit. The men set up, fixed and ran the machines; Janet did the bookkeeping and Marion called on stores to sell their finished goods. They had a ready market for yard goods in the stores in Chattanooga since none had been available for so long, and when they had merchandise to sell, did so at a tidy profit. Janet had kept the sutler wagon that played such a large part in her rescue of John and Samuel. Although not as elegant as a carriage, it was handy for delivering merchandise, and besides, Janet had a sentimental attachment to it. She had brought her husband home in the secret, false bottom that still remained a part of the wagon.

One Tuesday evening, Janet locked the mill, and she and Marion drove the wagon home. It had been a long day, and they said little to each other as they drove slowly through the quiet streets. The jasmine had started to bloom, and the syrupy sweet fragrance permeated the still, evening air. “You know, Marion, today is my wedding anniversary, and the jasmine smells as sweet tonight as it did on my wedding night. We stayed in a hotel in Atlanta, and the scent was everywhere. I wish I was back in Atlanta, with John.” They drove on in silence. Marion knew Janet was becoming very anxious. Most of the women they knew had their husbands safe at home, and were starting their lives over. They had heard nothing of John and Samuel, and Janet was beginning to fear the worst.

Janet drove up behind the house, and stopped. Marion was in the process of getting down from the high seat, when she heard a quiet knock, followed by another. She thought Janet had probably bumped into something; her rapidly expanding belly caused her to lose her balance now and then. Marion was walking around the wagon to help her down, when Janet said, “Marion, did you hear that?”

“Those two little knocks? I thought you did that.”

Janet tapped her foot on the floorboard twice, and they both heard the squeak of hinges of the door that opened to the false bottom. Footfalls came from under the wagon, and then John appeared. He was thinner, and his clothing was ragged, but he smiled at Janet and held out his arms to catch her rush to him. He smothered her in his embrace for a few seconds, then pushed her away and exclaimed, “you’ve put on a little weight, Jan.”

Through her laughter and tears, Janet said, “You put it there, silly, not me. Christmas Eve was good last year. You’re going to be a father, in September.”

John took her in his arms again, more gently this time, and held her to him, savoring the feel of her against his body once again. Janet pressed into him, and felt the breathing rise and fall of the strong chest she had missed for so long, and felt his heart beating in syncopation to hers.

Marion was quietly slipping away to leave them alone, when she saw feet dangling from under the wagon. The feet became legs, then a body, and Samuel crawled from under the wagon. “We hid in the wagon, just like when you rescued us, to surprise you. I’m really glad to see you, Marion.” Marion didn’t have time to see if he was thinner, or if his clothing was ragged, or indeed, if he was even wearing clothing. She was in his arms almost before he raised to his full height. “Samuel”, she cried, and pulled him to her breast. Samuel gently lifted her chin and gazed into her deep green, tear filled eyes for a moment, and then kissed her, softly at first, then with the passion that grows between two lovers separated by time and distance.

“I told you I’d come back, Marion. Every day I was gone, I thought of you; I thought of you when I woke and when I slept, and when we were in battle, I didn’t fight for the South, I fought to stay alive for you and your love. Marion, I won’t ever leave you again, if you’re still willing to share a life with me.”

Marion just whispered “yes”, and snuggled into his embrace. For the first time since the battle that cost her her home, her possessions, and her past life, she felt safe.

The wedding ceremony was small, by pre-war standards. The church was decorated with sweetpeas and honeysuckle vines, instead of the roses of a gentler time, but to Marion, the brilliant sun outside and the faint scent inside symbolized the start of a new life, a life gleaming with the promise of their future and sweet with her love for Samuel. Samuel wore one of John’s suits; the fit was a little loose, but he was a prince to Marion; Marion’s white dress was not covered in pearl beads, but did have lace and a net veil compliments of Charlotte. The ring on her finger was also small, but was gold, and had belonged to Samuel’s grandmother. Marion cherished the ring, both for the fact that Samuel had placed it there, and for his thought that she deserved such a priceless symbol of his love for her. The reception was held on the front lawn of John and Janet’s home, instead of on the verandah of a plantation mansion; the cake was small, but the punch was just as delicious, and the close friends who joined them made the occasion one of joy and tears, laughter, hugs for Samuel by her friends, and kisses on Marion’s cheek by her friends husbands.

As orange and purple clouds scudded across the deep blue sunsplit sky and the evening birds started their sunset songs, the guests slowly said their farewells and best wishes, and soon only John, Janet, Marion and Samuel were left. Marion and Samuel had decided not to take a honeymoon trip; they had little money, and would spend their first night together in Janet’s house. They retired to the parlor for some quiet conversation about the weather and other subjects adults use to fill in awkward spaces in life. Finally, Janet rose from her seat, took Marion to her bedroom and closed the door.

“Marion, sometimes you’re like a little sister to me, and sometimes like my daughter, even though we’re not that different in age. I want to give you some things for tonight, the things I will give my daughter one day, and you yours.”

She went to a closet and came back with a white silk nightdress trimmed with lace. “Remember, I first saw you in a silk nightdress. You were a scared little girl and yet, you tried to help me. This is the nightdress I wore on my first night with John, and I want you to have it for your first night with Samuel. Don’t be scared tonight, my darling little girl. It’s my turn to help you.”

“Samuel is a good man, and he loves you deeply. Always remember his love for you, even when times are bad and when you’re angry with him. Return his love, and your life will be happy and full of passion. Samuel won’t always know how to show you, but his love is as deep and consuming as yours, and his need for you is as great as your need for him. Forgive him for his little flaws and mistakes, and savor the times he tries to make you happy. Always remember, you can give him no greater gift than caring and understanding.” A tear slowly trickled down Janet’s cheek as she said, “Now, go take him by the hand, and lead him to your room. It’s time for my little girl to become a woman.”

Samuel was sitting on the bed when Marion came from behind the dressing screen. His vision was filled by an angel in white silk with auburn curls cascading over her lace clad shoulders. The silk caressed her figure as she walked, and the sway of her hips and soft jiggle of her lush breasts stole his breath. Samuel rose as she neared and took her in his arms; his hands touched her soft hair and then slipped down to her small waist. She smelled of lavender, and he pressed her body into his in a gentle embrace. Marion looked up at the gentle face, and smiled before kissing his lips with long anticipated passion. She parted their kiss, and whispered, “Sam, I love you. Make love to me.”

Marion began unbuttoning Samuel’s shirt, kissing his chest as each fastening was opened. She slipped the shirt from his arms, and embraced the muscular chest. Her hands felt the taut muscles of his back and shoulders, and she was lost in the feel of his body and the scent of his cologne. Samuel returned her embrace, gently, and reveled in the feel of soft, silk clad breasts punctuated by firm nipples pressing into his chest. After a few moments, he gently pushed her free, and blew out the lamp on the bedtable.

The full moon painted a satiny glow on Marion’s body when Samuel lifted the nightdress over her head. The play of soft light on her soft body highlighted curves here and cast others in seductive shadow. Samuel marveled at the soft swell of her hips, the firm, upthrust breasts tipped with small hard nipples, and the softly rounded belly with its small triangle of auburn curls. He worshipped every curve and hollow with fingertips and lips and his caresses found voice in Marion’s low, sultry, whispered moans. Marion’s fingers were busy loosening Samuel’s belt, then dropping his trousers to the floor. Her hands sought and found his manhood, and her fingertips told her of soft hardness, throbbing quiet strength, and the sensitive thrusts to come. As Samuel explored her body for the first time, Marion learned the center of his sensuality from the tip, glistening with moisture for her comfort, to the deliciously soft orbs in their satiny soft sack.

Samuel sat back on the bed, carrying Marion with him, and then laid down. Marion’s body pressed to his, her lush curves molding themselves into his hard angular body. They kissed, then kissed again, and Marion parted her lips as lightening coursed through her body with his touch. Her tongue slipped between her soft, red lips, and teased Samuel into parting his. His probing tongue found hers, and she gasped as the soft texture caressed her lips, tongue, and teeth. She began slowly rubbing her silky mound against his erect manhood, feeling it slip between her soft, swollen lips to be coated with her natural moisture. They both moaned an “mmmm” at the new, but exquisitely warm and soft feeling.

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