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“You’re a real charmer,” she teased, but she took his hand to lead him towards the bedroom.
With a graceful gentleness he took hold of her hand and hip, spun her around and pressed her to the wall. He was so careful since she’d advanced in her pregnancy, but still he could be so smooth.
A big toothy grin on his face, he pushed up alongside her. “I don’t think I can make it that far, hun,” he taunted, kissing her then tugging her bottom lip with his teeth. One of his hands even dared to dip low, lifted her dress and pushed those rough fingers up between her milky thighs to her sex, to feel those bare labia beneath.
She whimpered, her blue eyes flashing with deviousness, “My, my, Legault. What’s gotten into you out there in the field?” Her voice, even though it was filled with teasing, held such lust and appreciation. She loved how affectionate he was for her, and she felt such sincere desire for him in return. Her legs parted to let him feel out her swollen sex, dipping into that reservoir and begging out the moisture.
Dressed in his work pants and shirt, with the sleeves rolled far up above those bulging biceps, the hard labour of farming had only added to his physique. He was stronger than when she met him even.
Deftly his fingers worked her to a frenzy beneath her dress, his kisses so expert as they made out there in the hall right beside the door. He ground up against her side, the bulge of his manhood so apparent, so needy for her. “Mmm, Amy,” he groaned lustily.
Her red hair was tied back in a braid over her left shoulder, her smile so bright against her pale skin. Even in pregnancy she looked like a youthful beauty, a farmer’s daughter, made for this type of life. Made for him.
“You’re so bad,” she murmured, but her lips pressed to the exposed bit of his chest, licking over the peppering of hair.
With a husky groan he dipped his fingers into her slick depths then brought them up to his lips, tasted her upon the tips as his emerald eyes locked with her blue. “Mmm, Up Above, that’s good,” he declared, and abruptly his attention shifted.
Legault looked to the door with a start, then with an abruptness that shattered the moment he grabbed the gun her father once owned. He looked out the window but by then she heard it too. There were horses outside.
The only ones allowed to keep horses were the state. They confiscated all others almost without exception.
There they were, with a cart pulled by two steeds, four black uniformed soldiers stood outside. It wasn’t the rough trench wear that Legault had found her in. It was the pressed black, with high jackboots and stiff collars. They were from the capital itself.
“Legault, what do I do?” she asked, frantic, trying to smooth her hair and her simple blue dress at the same time. Her face was red with anxiety and that burning need he’d awoken in her, and she tried to remember. He was her... He was pretending to be her Pa. She swallowed down the sorrow at the unbidden memory as she moved back into the house a step, just to try to escape the anxiety.
With a calm, steady voice he spoke to her, “Just be calm. We went over it all before, ya remember? You know what ta do.” He put down the gun, but for the first time ever she could see his hands shook, showing some sign of nervousness on the otherwise implacable Legault.
There was no delay, for these men would know no sympathy, and would expect immediate response.
Pulling Amy to him he kissed her forehead before opening the door. The officer amongst them came to the front porch with two others in tow. They were all but one tall fellows, though only the slender, striking officer reached Legault’s height.
That man, in his shining uniform pushed past him into their home for he needed no invite. The two others moved in with caution, guns at the ready as they began to search. “If any military age men are on the premises, turn them over now or face summary judgement,” he rattled off with practiced precision. “All individuals of the household must report for census. Any goods beyond your allotment will be seized as taxation for the war effort,” and with a hard look the brown eyed officer stared at both in turn. “State your names and affiliations.”
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sp; Legault had moved to her side, put his arm around her with slow caution as they were scrutinized by the harsh officer. He was nervous, she could tell that, but she doubted anyone who did not know him so intimately could. “Tom Ailshire,” he said in a deep but submissive tone. “Owner of this here farm. Father o’ one.”
“Amy,” she dipped her head, even as her heart raced. She willed the flush of her cheeks to dim, but surrounded as they were, she couldn’t help it. She felt so small, and wished herself even smaller in her simple blue dress, her pregnant belly making it billow against her thighs.
They could hear the other two soldiers rooting through their home, toppling things and prying at the wood without concern for the damage they caused. Though it was hard to worry about that under the harsh gaze of the officer’s eyes. He didn’t carry a rifle like the other two, but the handgun in his holster was more of a threat at this close range. The baton he carried openly in one hand, tapped repeatedly against his thigh, a graver threat still.
“Just the two of you then,” he said and Legault nodded immediately. The officer inhaled through his nose then, and Amy realized the scent of arousal was still thick on the air from their earlier playfulness. “This is your daughter then,” he stated plainly, to which Legault nodded. A sickened look crossed the man’s harsh face at that.
Amy glanced up, her arms cradling her swollen womb as if to protect her unborn child from the glare, from the stress of the officer. “My brothers died fightin’ for the great cause, an’ my husband’s out there now, doin’ his duty, Sir. We only wish to help’em out there on the front.” Her voice felt so tight, sounded so strained, and she shifted her weight. Her body felt so heavy, so tired suddenly.
The moment dragged on so long, it was agonizing to be so scrutinized, so ripped apart and examined by a mere gaze from such a cold man. Yet Legault’s arm about her grounded her some little bit.
Just as it seemed he might never cease staring them down with his doubtful, angry gaze, the other two men returned from having ransacked their home. Without a word they went out behind the officer, the routine old hat to them, nothing needed to be said. “We’ll be back in time for harvest. Don’t try to withhold your duty-bound share. We’ve tallied what you should produce and we will expect it precisely. Anything less is tantamount to treason,” he stated then pivoted on his heel. “Think of your husband out there should you doubt your duty to provide.”
He didn’t close the door behind him, didn’t pay any more heed to them. Though as they watched they could see the fourth individual--more waifish than the slender officer even--return to the wagon, undoubtedly having inspected their fields to do just as he had said.
The two of them didn’t dare move as the wagon was pulling away, only two of them sat upon it as the other pair marched at its side, rifles at the ready.
With such a mighty sigh, Legault slammed the door shut then wrapped both arms around Amy, clutching her tight in a hug. It was relief, pure relief. Then joy. For he laughed and kissed her, “Oh Up Above, Amy... we did it.” He repeated himself softly, kissing her over and over again.
She was crying, but she barely even realized the tears were streaming down her cheeks in giant rivulets. The release of stress, the pain of deception, the cruelty of her father’s memory, it was all too much. She clutched onto him for dear life, and she ignored the mess of the house around her, the work they’d have to do to get it cleaned and fixed, and how hard it’d be in her state. “Don’t get carried away,” she sobbed. “They may be testin’ us.”
Tender and so lovingly he caressed and kissed her, muttering, “They’re not. It’s all okay. We’re gonna be fine, Amy. Just fine.” He held her until the tears stopped, and though their home was a mess, their preparations for supper a shambles, he was right. They never returned that night. Nor any time soon thereafter.
