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This is historical fiction - with the naughty parts included. It's entertainment. If you want to know more (which, quite honestly, I hope this tale encourages), search the facts out for yourself.
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April finally came - and with it - the wedding.
Elizabeth had commissioned a dress for her daughter that Sarah tried to refuse wearing - but her mother wouldn't stand for it. The ceremony was attended by a lot more people than I had expected - including the sheriff.
He had laughingly told us that he'd received a letter from the sheriff in Topeka, complaining about our "needless threats of violence". I, of course, had sat down with him almost as soon as we were back in town and apprised him of all that had taken place, letting him know that I would meet with any accusers and answer charges - as long as he served as justicer.
As we stood in front of the gathered guests, I held Sarah's hands in mine and told her that I had never seen a woman who was more beautiful in my entire life. Lydia, Annie, and Juniper had matching dresses and stood with her. Travis, from the stables, stood in as my best man.
We exchanged our vows as husband and wife - and then I went to each of our maids, dropped to one knee, and vowed to love and support them. Each of them looked to my bride and promised their love and support for her and for me.
I'm sure it was the weirdest wedding that anyone had ever seen but nobody said an unkind word to me about it. In fact, I had more than one person who pulled me aside and told me that they had watched us - over these last several months - and they had never seen a happier, more committed group of people.
Food, drink, and refreshment flowed aplenty, and the girls and I slipped away after a couple hours and left the revelers to their revelry.
The girls started to strip as soon as we got into our room, but Sarah ordered them to stop. She lay on the beds in her wedding gown and ordered the others to join her. She held up the front of her dress and ordered me to crawl underneath and satisfy her with my mouth.
I was blind to their antics but the four of them never stopped giggling, writhing, and moaning as I first brought Sarah to climax and then moved under the next skirt to do the same - until all four had been satisfied.
Next, Sarah ordered me to strip and lie on the bed. She lifted the bottom of her dress, settled on top of me, and ordered me to fuck her. I reached up, took hold of her breasts through the material of her gauzy gown, and slammed my cock up into her. Once she had climaxed, she swapped out and each of the maids took their turn on my rigid rod.
When that round had been finished, Sarah ordered them onto their hands and knees - with her at the last. She had me kneel behind them, throw their skirts up over their backs, and fuck them once again. By the time I was halfway done, my toes were curling with the effort required to keep from blowing my load inside of whichever pussy I was fucking.
Finally, I got behind my bride, threw the bottom of her dress up onto her back, and slid into her velvety folds.
"Fuck me, HUSBAND," she growled.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and thrusted into her - praying that she wouldn't last overlong. I was still praying - however many minutes later - when I felt her channel clamp down on me and her insides begin to shudder. I threw myself all of the way inside of her and roared out my release.
Once I had finished, I tumbled to the mattress, leaving the giggling girls to whatever they planned next.
~~~
We spent pretty much every night at Sarah's parents' home after that. Her mother was bemoaning our impending departure and wanted every chance she could get to spend with her little girl, her son-in-law, and the three maids.
We had the girls' dresses pressed, stored away in a waterproof bag, and readied for travel. We spent hours going back over everything we had packed and adding more to the small hoard.
We had sold the ten horses from the Topeka job as soon as we'd gotten back to Independence. In the end, we'd taken less than I'd hoped but we'd kind of changed the market for our part of the city and there were only so many folks looking for horses - especially when oxen were preferred for the Oregon Trail - and they were half the price.
~~~
Two weeks later, we had one last filling dinner with Sarah's mom and dad. That night, we gave extra-long hugs and kisses before we headed back to our room.
I made slow gentle love to each of my ladies, promising them that we'd order a soft comfortable mattress for us to share when we finally got back to Oregon again.
Early the next morning, we got up, went to the stables, got our mounts and pack-animals into their tack, and came back to the room to get them loaded with bags and bundles.
I had managed to find a second ring lever rifle. It cost twice what I thought it should, but I bought it without even haggling - along with every box of ammo that the man had. He wanted far too much for the cleaning and maintenance kit and I told him to keep it. He ended up throwing it in because it wouldn't have been any use to him without the matching weapon. I felt slightly better about the deal after that. Quite honestly, though, with Annie and I each having eight shots between us, it would take a small army to give us any real threat.
Annie had a rifle and a shotgun sheathed on Larry's flanks and pistol on each hip. Juniper was on Dusty. She had a musket that she was getting better with - as well as a pair of pistols. Lydia was on Skittles. Sarah was on Side-eye. They each had the same kit as Juniper. I was, of course, on Slowpoke and had the same kit as Annie.
I had commissioned better bedrolls for the five of us - with three times the padding that they usually held - as well as a tent that would hold us all plus some gear. It was a monster of a thing and Packer whuffed at me when I loaded it onto his back. I gave him an apple and told him to hush. I'd carried the army tent many times before - and I was certain that this thing was far lighter. The tent had also come with a ground cover that would go a long way towards keeping our bedrolls from getting so nasty.
Once the saddle bags were all loaded, everybody was in their places, and we'd checked and double checked that we had everything, we set off. Joseph and Elizabeth hurried over just as we'd begun. Sarah's father shook my hand while her mother went to her daughter and each of the girls and hugged them and kissed them and told them that she already missed them.
We waved goodbye and got onto the trail shortly before most folks would be eating breakfast. Juniper complained about the journey - and then giggled when Lydia and Annie started in on her about how little she was truly prepared for the trip. Once they realized she was just egging them on, they stopped. By the time we stopped that night - at the point where the Santa Fe trail heads west - the sly grin on Juniper's face had long since eroded.
The longest that we'd ever ridden was three days at a time. We arrived at Fort Kearney five days after we left Independence, and we'd already moved beyond Juniper's taunting - and past Lydia and Annie's teasing - and the girls' faces had turned to road-weary masks of grim resolve and blank stares at the western horizon.
When the fort and the cluster of shops and houses around it came into view, Sarah and Juniper's eyes finally returned to a semblance of normality. I cautioned them that they weren't getting "the full experience" but they begged for a meal that wasn't trail food and I gave in.
I left the stable master with instructions to spoil the hell out of our mounts and then took the girls to find something warm and filling that hadn't been tossed into a pot over an open fire. There were no pastries for dessert. I bought some pressed fig cakes, and the girls gobbled them up like they were candy. We reclaimed our horses - who didn't look happy about getting back onto the trail - and paid the hostler a little more than I'd promised - mostly because I saw him brushing their coats as we were returning.
Sarah and Juniper had been hoping for a real bed, but I wasn't ready to pamper them quite that much. We rode until dark, put up the tent, crawled inside, made love, and curled up together to stay warm.
Four days later, we came to Windlass Hill. We stopped the horses at the spot where Bill had died. As Lydia grieved, once again, Annie and I (in hushed tones) pointed to the places where we had anchored the heavy wagons to get them down the steep slope.
Lydia remounted and we finished our descent, coming to the grave. She righted the marker that had fallen over, and I helped her anchor it a little better. She picked some wildflowers and laid them on the still-churned dirt. It was hard to believe that it wasn't quite a year since we'd first been here. The girls dismounted and huddled around Lydia to hug her.
Finally, Lydia brushed away the last of her tears and said that she was ready. We remounted and rode on. There was a nice, sheltered area there but it was too close to the grave. We rode until dark and found a better place to spend the night.
Sarah and Juniper were quiet for a while after they saw the first two graves. As we rode, we passed a few scattered markers along the trail. They began to better appreciate what we had endured.
Two days later, we pointed out Chimney Rock - and then Scott's Bluff the following day. A day and a half later - in the afternoon - Fort Laramie came into view.
By my reckoning, we were 10 days out from South Pass. I had planned to give the girls a respite here anyway - but a quick word with the stablemaster suggested that an extra day or two might be advised - to give the snows more time to melt before we arrived.
We spent the night in a rented house. I paid for a woman to come in and fix meals for us. I had the money, and the girls were due a bit of luxury - and a distraction from counting the graves that we had passed.
We made love on straw-filled mattresses instead of the damp ground and slept in late the following day. Slowpoke whuffed at me when I came to retrieve him. I bribed him with an apple that had spent the winter in the cook's cellar. The other horses were rewarded for their patience and fortitude as well. We swung into our saddles and got back onto the trail.
Six days later, we passed Independence Rock. Devil's Gate came and went the next day. Three days more brought us to South Pass. The path was covered in slushy snow but there were tracks through it, so we pushed on. We got to the other side before nightfall, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
