Bruar's Rest

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Authors: Jess Smith
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skipped through the heather, the roundness of her thighs, so smooth, now silhouetted by the fully risen sun. Its rays played like music around her bouncing curves. Suddenly a voice in his head penetrated through his passion. ‘Respect her,’ it whispered over and over again, until the lust subsided and his eyes saw the girl, not the woman.
    ‘What has our love life got to do with a bird anyway, wee feisty woman?’
    ‘Well, he’s up in the sky yonder, and until you do the proper thing, then that is where you might as well be.’
    They both knew they would join together: it was fate, nothing could change that. Yet she also knew she yearned for him now, so tried again with teasing and playful caresses.
    This time he was having none of it. He pushed away her small wandering hands and calmly mused, ‘Come now, my little virgin, where is the shame in you?’
    ‘Since when was kissing a sin?’ She gave him a long lingering stare, her sea-green eyes flashed; a wink followed, she kicked up her heels and ran off through the heather. He called after her that he was away into the forest for wood, and was certain he’d heard the sound from the campsite earlier of her Mammy whistling. ‘And you’ve not even gathered a single pheasant’s egg neither,’ he added, tousling his blonde hair, grateful all the more to the quiet voice that had broken through his lustful thoughts and calmed a brewing sexual storm deep down.
    ‘Good God, Bruar’s right, I clean forgot to gather the breakfast! What a fool I can be sometimes.’
    Annie’s shrill whistle sent her scurrying back empty-handed, little knowing how much self control she had cost him.
    He mopped his sweating brow after the trial of his willpower and clumsily began to build piles of firewood gathered from the forest floor. Soon two large bundles sat comfortably on his broad shoulders. Heading homeward, he heard Megan’s older sister Rachel laying into her.
    ‘You hussy, have you been working the pants of yourself with Bruar Stewart and forgot the eggs?’
    ‘I have not! What a bitch. I swear, Rachel, the devil himself forged your tongue. Mammy, this she-cat is saying evil things! Anyway you’re just a jealous cow—I bet there’s not a male within a hundred miles who’d look twice at that pale lifeless face.’
    Rachel grabbed at her young sister, screaming that she’d rather live in a rat-infested dungeon than take off at an unearthly hour of the morning to fornicate with a man.
    Shaking her head at the disgraceful conduct of her girls, Annie scolded them. ‘Stop that, the both of you. Rachel, fetch water for tea. Megan, I hope the heart’s in the fire, you’ve been gone the best part of an hour. I heard you whispering on that Stewart lad, I hope there has been no nonsense. I’m in no mood for you two fighting neither, so put an end to it or I’ll switch the pair of you.’
    Annie, still weak, tried hard to stretch her bones and rise from the tent, but the pain in her body turned her stiff instead. She winced at the aches now passing like waves throughout her body; only forty years had she been on the earth, yet she felt so very old. Megan had always been a step ahead of her clutches, uncontrollable. By the age of four she’d sat on a horse’s back; Annie smiled through her pain, remembering how her man had made longer reins for the little arms to reach. ‘She was taking the deer off the hill with him by the age of six. Now the child is growing up and will soon be a wife; she’s chosen a man already, by the sounds of it.’ A look at the girl’s legs also brought a smile. ‘It wasn’t all that long ago two twiglets carried her growing frame in great leaps, and now they are so pretty and shapely. Yes, she’ll be a woman soon, and thank God, because I won’t be around to help her. Better that she’s coping. Rachel has always been steady, I’ll not have any problems worrying about her. Old before her time, never enjoyed the joy of youth, my plain

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