The Black Rose Legacy Ch 01

The Black Rose Legacy -- Chapter 01

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I read a wonderful NonHuman fantasy story,

'Wings Of Desire'

by taiyakisoba, about a harpy (half-woman/half eagle) who abducts a human male in order to mate, and it was so damned delightful I was inspired to write my own NonHuman story. I hope

The Black Rose Legacy

series does justice to the story and author that inspired it.

This story is pure fantasy of course, with some interspecies romance thrown in. If you're a regular follower of my Romance stories, this one may not be your bowl of rabbit stew.

++++++++++

1895 - Pacific Northwest Wilderness/Washington State

It was my own damned fault, and I should have known better.

My partner Fred Dobbs and I had panned enough gold from the Skykomish River for both of us to be set for life. However, the night before we were to go to Seattle and cash it all out, while I slept, he'd taken all of it -- the gold, the panning supplies, even the damned cooking pots and pans - and vanished into thin air, leaving me with only a few gold nuggets accidentally left in my pockets. I swore that if I ever saw that low-down backstabbing thief again, I'd strangle him with that damned yellow bandanna he always wore.

Frustrated, I decided to get out of panning for gold completely and become a trapper. Using what little money I had left, I purchased a pistol, food supplies, skinning knives, winter clothing and metal traps, then set out into the Cascade mountain wilderness.

Working alone, I started to get the hang of things and stayed alive by eating the meat of the beavers I trapped and skinned. I was still hoping to catch a bear, though. I could easily trade a bearskin pelt to the local Snohomish Indians, or go through the effort of taking it downriver and selling it for big money to the settlers who were moving in to Seattle every day. The city had become home to 40,000 people by this point.

I'd purchased several smaller traps for beavers, wolves, and deer, and two big bear traps -- they were vicious things, with steel toothed jaws with serious teeth and powerful springs. They needed to be. Black bears could weigh up to 500 or more pounds, and their cousins the grizzly bears could weigh 800 pounds or more. I'd just set one of these traps in a shallow hole in the forest and covered it with leaves; when I stepped up to get away from it, my right foot slipped on some wet leaves, sliding down and landing squarely on the trap's trigger pan. The trap worked like a charm, easily piercing my leather boot and calf muscle.

While I was setting the trap, it had taken all my strength to pry the jaws apart. Now that I was firmly caught in it, I was in serious pain, losing blood and going into shock, and I realized my situation was hopeless. There was no way I was getting free; I was a dead man. A heavy sadness overcame me, and I lay there weeping in agony and frustration until I passed out.

I woke up, which I was not expecting at all. I lay on some blankets, my head propped up. My leg was throbbing, but it was wrapped up in cloth strips made the arms of from a flannel shirt I'd had in a bundle on the drag sled. I'd been pulling the damned sled since my supply wagon broke down on the road from Seattle.

Looking around, I saw I was in what looked like a Shoshone plank house, 15 feet or so long by 10 feet wide, but with a tall, tapered ceiling, about 9 feet at the highest point. The center beam at the apex of the roof was supported by two huge upright logs, one at either end of the structure.

At one end of the house there was a circular 4-foot entry with no door; instead, there were flaps made of beaver pelts. In the corner at the other end was a makeshift fireplace, with a chimney flue made of flat stacked stones held together by mud and peat moss. Some blankets were spread out beside it, apparently a second sleep area. Midway up on the long walls small circular openings had been cut, with beaver pelts as curtains. Apparently when the curtains were pulled back these portals served to let in light during the times no fire was burning.

Then an old man appeared, coming through the entrance flaps. Seeing me awake, he grinned. I expected to see a few missing teeth, but his smile was all pearly white teeth, unusual for a wilderness man.

"Ah! Back in the land of the living, excellent! With all the blood you lost, you had us worried!" The old man was about 6 feet tall, a little shorter than me, his body slim compared to mine. I wasn't sure how much I weighed, but the one time I was at a real doctor's office in Seattle, he told me I'd weighed 266 pounds.

The man's hair and beard were long and light blonde, with a few barely discernible gray hairs running through it all. I unconsciously ran my hand over my face, and could feel a few day's growth. Ordinarily it was smooth, as I shaved regularly. I noticed his eyes were a deep blue, and his face was scarred here and there.

I shifted a bit, wincing as the pain in my leg took an opportunity to reassert itself and then asked, "Who's we?"

"My daughter Daisy and I. She's out getting some restorative herbs, roots, and mushrooms to boil a nice restorative soup for you." Then he stopped and extended his hand. "I've been out here for so long, I'm forgetting my manners. My name's Andrew Haggerty."

I took it and we shook. "Nice meeting you, Mr. Haggerty. I'm Adam Karpiak. Speaking of manners, I should be thanking you for saving my life."

He shook his head. "I'm not the one you should be thanking. That would be Daisy, my daughter. She's the one that found you and brought you back here. Carried you in her arms, pulling your drag sled behind her." He leaned over as if he were conspiring with me. "Truth be told, she could have put you on the drag sled as well, but I think being an 18-year-old girl, she got a kick out of carrying a man who's not her father in her arms. It's been my experience that young girls, whether in New York, Seattle, or even here in the wilderness, do get a bit silly when they meet a handsome man."

My eyes widened, as I was incredulous. "How could she both carry me and drag my sled? I'm over 250 pounds!"

Haggerty sat back on his haunches. "Well, that's the thing, see. Daisy is not a girl you'd meet at some fancy cotillion. Living out here in the wilderness, she's never even seen a dress. She's a big girl, like her mother. Not fat, mind you, just...tall." He paused, as if measuring his next words carefully.

"Mr. Karpiak, you ever hear tell of the legend of the Sasquatch?"

"Well, yeah, of course, anybody who spends time out here trapping or panning for gold has. They're supposed to be big hairy apelike creatures who live in the forests, but mostly they hide from people."

"What if I was to tell you that the Sasquatch legend were real?"

"I'd say you been too long at the corn whiskey."

"Well, I'm telling you the legend IS real, Mr. Karpiak, my wife is one. And my daughter. Actually, she's half, just on her mother's side."

If I weren't so weak from blood loss and my leg didn't hurt so bad, I'd have been running like hell to get away from this crazy old man. As it was, he had a captive audience.

"I'm not her first husband, actually. I was out in the forest hunting rabbits and squirrels for my meals that day when I heard a hell of a ruckus like two bears roaring, but the cadence sounded like two people was arguing. I got down on my knees and crawled through the bushes towards the noise, and I saw not one but two Sasquatch, a male with bright red hair and a female with black hair.

I could tell the red-haired one was a male -- he was taller than the other, damn near nine feet, plus he had a tallywhacker swinging between his legs that looked like a damned telephone pole! I swear, that big johnson of his would have made a stallion jealous.

I figured Big Red was the husband, mate or what have you." Sasquatches arguing? Oh, brother, this was starting to sound like a tall tale for sure. Maybe the legendary giant Paul Bunyan from Minnesota, or better yet the fabled boatman Mike Fink from Mississippi would make an appearance later on in the story!

The old man went on, "The black one was definitely a 'she', I figured she was the wife, she had much less facial hair plus some big ol' hairless tiddies on her. Anyway, the two of them was screechin' and gruntin' at each other something fierce when the male commenced to beat on her. She was fightin' him, too, but she was gettin' the worst of it. Pretty soon, she was laid out on the ground, curled up in pain. That's when he stopped hittin' her. He roared at her a few more times, then run off.

Now, I'd thought about shooting him with my Winchester '73 while they was fighting, but I didn't want to hit her on accident. Plus, I seen a man die one time when he shot a grizzly bear and that big ol' grizzly just kept a comin', the bullet didn't hardly make no difference. I figured this big Sasquatch woulda been the same way, and I seein' that I wasn't in a mood to die right then, I stayed hid.

After a few minutes, I got up and walked over to the female. She was laying there, semi-awake, like an angel with a fur coat. She didn't smell near as bad as I was expectin', neither. Mr. Karpiak, I don't mind sayin' after bein' out here in the wilderness for nigh on 11 months, she was woman enough for me!

She was too big for me to carry, musta outweighed me by a couple hunnert pounds, so I grabbed some long branches and built a shelter over her. Then, I went home and grabbed a cook pot filled with water, some salt, a little pepper and a ladle, come back and built a fire. She kept sleeping while I cooked up some stew with a jackrabbit I'd shot that day, may he rest in peace."

I thought to myself that given the rabbit's final burial arrangements, it would be more like rest in pieces, but that was just me. Haggerty's face softened as he continued to happily reminisce.

"When the stew was ready, I woke her up, real soft-like. I was a little worried she might be scared and fight me when she come around, but instead she just sat up and looked at me. 'Well, hello there, my black rose,' I says, friendly-like, and then I decided that from then on, I'd call her by the name Black Rose. I offered up a ladleful of stew, and she licked it. Most of it spilled, but she seemed to like the taste. I tried to show her how to sip from a ladle, and she ended up letting me feed her. She ate the whole pot, too, exceptin' for the few mouthfuls I took, so I guess I done good.

After she ate, I sat and talked to her about my life: how I come to live in the Cascade mountains, how I made friends with the Shoshone tribe, how I was a middlin' hunter and trapper, but a fair cook. She just sat and listened. Finally, after all the hunting and cooking and making the shelter for her, I was so tuckered out I fell asleep."

The old man chuckled lasciviously, his voice lower now, "Well, next thing I know it's the middle of the night and I'm under the shelter sleeping with Black Rose. Except, I'm the only one sleeping; Black Rose is kneeling over me, and she's got my britches pulled down! Next thing you know, she's got my little pecker in her mouth and he's standing at full attention.

Then she moves around and straddles me and takes me inside her! Now I know there's no way I'll hold a candle size-wise to her former mate, but she seemed to like me just fine! The way she's making happy grunts and groans, I'm thinking I'll make her rabbit stew every damn night if I have to!

Finally she howls, and I feel her female muscles squeezing the hell out of my little pecker, forcing me to cut loose my own self, filling her insides with what my balls had to offer." He happily shook his head at the memory. It occurred to me I was looking at man who, if this crazy story were really true, was still very much in love with his hairy seductress.

Haggerty sighed happily, then went on. "From then on, Black Rose and I was inseparable, and we did the deed every damned night except when she was on her monthly. After eight weeks or so, her monthly didn't show and her belly commenced to growing. I was excited as hell, I was going to be a poppa!

During that time, Rosie and I learned to communicate; she don't speak English, but she understands it pretty good. I don't speak Sasquatch, but with her noises and gestures I usually can figure out what she means. By the way, she's a damn fine hugger in bed, but when I tried teachin' her about kissin, she weren't too keen on it. Daisy ain't yet learned that particular thing, if you was ever of a mind to kiss her."

The old man gestured towards the ceiling. "As for this place, one day a Shoshone named Two Eagles walked into the clearing where we was living. He saw me first, and walked up friendly-like, but when he seen Black Rose standing in the shadows on the edge of the clearing, he grabbed his bow and took out an arrow. With hand gestures, I explained to him about Black Rose being my mate now. Since Rose stood about two feet taller than me, I think I impressed the hell out of him.

Having lived in the wilderness her whole life, Black Rose was a good hunter so Two Eagles made a deal with us: as winter was coming, his tribe would give us an abandoned cedar plank house to stay in if she'd help the tribe hunt for food in return. Rose would bring home fresh meat every afternoon for me to cook, then drop off rabbits, beavers, or the occasional deer for the tribe after the sun went down so she weren't seen."

Haggerty sighed once more at the next happy memory. "We got settled into this plank house just in time. A few months later, Daisy come into the world. She was a big baby, weighing as much as a bag of horseshoes. Like her mother, she had a lot of hair on her in the same places as Black Rose, but it was a fine hair like mine, and colored dark yellow. She began walking in a few months and grew up fast; as you can see she growed taller than me to where she's almost as tall and strong as her momma. She's sharp as a tack; I taught her to talk pretty good, and her momma taught her to hunt and find herbs and roots in the forest so she can cook good too!"

He grinned, his teeth white and shiny. "See these choppers? I still got all of 'em! Daisy give me some special roots to chew on every morning, so they stay nice and healthy."

My host got up and began building a fire, and as the heat filled the plank house, I dozed off again. When I awoke, I felt hands softly dabbing at my leg wounds with a warm wet cloth.

I opened my eyes and looked at the tender caregiver seated next to me, with her back towards my head and her face towards my feet. I could see the dark blonde furry hair on her head, her arms, her shoulders, and her bottom. Apparently, she was hairy enough where she didn't need pants, but was wearing my flannel shirt -- minus the arms, of course. It was a tight fit across the back, the cloth in front barely covering her breasts.

I felt her rebind my wounds, and heard her utter, "The poultice I made is doing the trick, Poppa! No infection." For being as big as she was, I expected her voice tone to be deep, but instead it was high-pitched and almost musical, like the soprano I saw onstage at the San Francisco Opera House one time, except not nearly as loud. To my ears, it was soft and gentle, and I liked it.

She turned to face me, holding the wet rag in her overly large hand as if to wipe my brow when she saw I was awake again.

Her eyes were definitely her father's, with the same deep blue color. Her head was large with a high forehead, and her face was round, those blue eyes set a little closer together than you'd see on most girls. Her flattened nose, while unusual, wasn't disconcerting in any way. I looked down, and, despite what the legend said, her feet, while good-sized, were not as big as you'd think, about 6 inches longer and 3 inches wider than mine.

Sitting so close to me, I caught her scent -- slightly earthy, like moss, but with some floral accents. Despite her overall hairiness, she was unmistakably female. I guess this must have been what Haggerty experienced when he first saw Black Rose. "Hello Mr. Karpiak," she said, almost blushing as she did so, "it's good that you're awake. How are you feeling?"

I pushed myself into a seated position, and noticed my trousers were gone. Peeking under the large hide blanket, I saw I was naked. I hoped I hadn't soiled myself while I was unconscious. "Much better, actually, and call me Adam, please. You must be Daisy, my rescuer. I'm assuming I owe my good health to you. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

She patted the wet rag gently across my forehead, "You don't have to thank me for bringing you here, I wanted to. I couldn't let you just lay there and die. Poppa said I done a good thing. I like doing good things." With such a sweet demeanor, I couldn't avoid praising her.

"I have a hard time believing you're capable of doing anything bad, Daisy." One time I read in a romance novel how a man kissed a lady's hand, so I kissed hers. This resulted in a perplexed look on her face.

"What was that you just did?"

"Why, I kissed your hand." Then I remembered Haggerty telling me Black Rose didn't like kissing, and realized Daisy would have never been kissed before, or even seen her parents do it.

The gentle blonde giant looked away shyly, and said "My Poppa said someday a man would come and teach me to kiss, so I guess that was you."

"No, Daisy, that was only a hand kiss, not a real kiss. It was a gesture of respect. Lip kissing is a gesture of affection." Then I made a snap decision, or maybe it made itself, and I blurted out, "When I'm back to full strength, I'll teach you kissing on the lips."

She scooted over next to me, very close -- any closer and she'd have been behind me -- and sniffed my hair. "You smell good, Adam, you're a nice man. I'd like it if you teached me kissing." I was amazed at that statement, because I'd been in the wilderness for weeks without bathing, then laid all sweaty and sick in this bed for two days. I'd caught a whiff of myself and thought I smelled like buzzard bait, but if this sweet half-Sasquatch girl thought I smelled good, well, I wasn't about to argue.

Then I looked over by the fire, and saw Mr. Haggerty, happily wrapped in the long arms of a giant black-furred figure that could only be Black Rose herself. I couldn't hear them clearly, but it was apparent Black Rose had been gone a while and it was a happy reunion. Haggerty kept moving his hand across her protruding abdomen, caressing it gently.

Then it dawned on me that Daisy was going to have a sibling soon. I admired how old Haggerty's furnace still had fire in it. Daisy said, "Momma's been out hunting for a few days, and Poppa has sure missed her." She giggled, "It's gonna be noisy in here tonight. They always couple when she gets home."

Then it occurred to me there were only two sleeping platforms in the plank house. "So you're in the house with them while they couple?"

She looked at me like I'd asked a question whose answer should have been obvious. "Where else would I go? This is where I sleep!"

Now it was my turn to be flustered, and I tried to explain without blushing, "Where I come from, people usually couple by themselves without other people around."

Daisy was dumbfounded but curious. "I don't understand. Why should Momma and Poppa want to hide?" I gave up, as it was clear that modesty was a foreign concept in a one-room house.

Then I asked, "Speaking of sleeping, since I'm in your space, where will you be?"

Daisy picked up my hand and mimicked my earlier actions, pressing her lips to the back of it. I felt a small shiver run up my back from this innocent gesture as she replied, "Why, next to you, of course, just like last night. Where else would I go? Besides, if you need to pee or poop in the night, you'll need help. I don't think you're able to walk by yourself yet, so I'll have to help you move and clean you up like last night." She said this as nonchalantly as if she was discussing what direction the wind was blowing.