The Gettysburg Zone Part 7

After yet another day in bed Karen had to leave not only the room, but the house as well. Paul hadn't come to check on her during her confinement. She shrugged that off. The whole experience had covered her with some kind of invisible slime. No matter how many times she bathed, it didn't go away. She ached for a hot shower but thought that that wouldn't cleanse her either. If Paul didn't want to touch her before, he probably felt justified now. And she understood that. Angus had assured her that she didn't need to worry about chores until she felt better. She thanked him and headed off to the barn. She wasn't going to do any work but she had to face her fears. If she didn't revisit that site right then and there, she felt certain that she never would. Chris Connors fell into step with her. That was never a good thing.
"Hey, I know you gave Paul the boot," he began.
She didn't slow her step. "I didn't give him the boot. It was mutual."
"I figured maybe we could hook up. You probably need a little release right about now, so...."
She stopped and fixed him with a murderous gaze. "You have got to be joking!"
Chris gave her a lecherous grin. "I'm not that bad."
"You couldn't touch me with a vibrator at twenty feet! Much less anything you came with naturally!" She turned and resumed her walk to the barn.
Chris was furious. She'd bruised his ego in front of his buddies. "Bleached blonde bitch!" He screamed. "Don't turn your back on me, Hampton!"
Suddenly Chris was sprawled in the grass. Paul stood over him, panting and daring him to get up. "Lay one finger on her and I'll kill you myself! You got that, Connors?" Paul was deadly serious. Chris hadn't gotten his wind back so he nodded. Paul turned and ran toward the barn.He found her in the loft. Her head resting on her knees. She didn't look up. "Go away, Chris!"
"I'm not leavin'."
She looked up suddenly. Her eyes were red rimmed and tears glistened on her cheeks. She started to get up. "Then I will!"
Paul shrugged. "Fine...after you've heard what I've come to offer you."
She sighed and busied herself with rearranging her skirt around her. "I want an aspirin, a coke, a Big Mac and my mother. The first two are still twenty years or more away from being invented. The Big Mac is better than a hundred years in the future." She swiped a tear away for emphasis. "And my mother hasn't even been born yet. So whatever you're offering seems to pale by comparison."
He sat down in the hay next to her. "You haven't heard it yet."
She turned pained blue eyes on him. "You gave Chris permission to pick up where you left off?"
He shook his head. "No, I think I mighta broke a coupla his ribs."
"For what? I'm damaged goods now."
He put his arm around her waist and felt her stiffen. "He didn't rape you." His voice was deliberately gentle.
"But he...he tried. And you know what's so sick? He was my great, great, great uncle!" She was sobbing again. "I always heard about the good ol' days. Where are they? I damned near get raped by a relative and in 3 days these fields will run red with blood! What was good about these days?!?!"
He took her hand. "I want to marry you, Karen. Make an honest woman of you. Have you for my lover, my friend and my companion til death do us part. The whole fuckin' nine yards!"
Her eyes bespoke doubt. "You're using the M word, Paul."
He got on his knees in front of her, meeting her gaze and hoping that she could see his sincerity in his eyes. "Will you, Karen Hampton, marry me?"
She looked down at the floor, deep in thought. When she looked up, she was smiling through her tears. "Lover, friend and companion, huh? And which one would you be wanting first, Mr. Jefferson?"
"Whichever one you feel comfortable giving me." He certainly wasn't going to push her into sex after her ordeal.
She stood up and let the bulky pantalets slide to the hay and stepped out of them before laying back. Angus would've had a fit if he'd known that, not only wasn't she wearing a corset, she wasn't wearing a chemise either. When she unbuttoned the tiny buttons at the front of her bodice, her breasts were free for his inspection. Paul sucked in his breath. At his first touch, she pulled away ever so slightly and he stopped. She looked like she was trying desperately to forget what had happened to her. After what seemed like an eternity, she pulled him down on top of her for a kiss. She kept her eyes focused on him as he drew her nipple into his mouth, afraid of closing her eyes and having the dead rebel in Paul's place. He let his hand slide up her leg and settle between them, massaging softly to make sure she was completely ready. He was never going to let her be hurt again. Things were moving in slow motion, building the ecstasy to a feverish intensity. He felt the comfort of those long legs wrapped around him.
You can project to the rafters this time, baby. There's no one but me to hear you," he encouraged her.
Mike saw Angus heading to the barn and he ran to intercept him. He wasn't sure what was happening in there . but he didn't want to risk Angus walking in on his friends in a compromising situation. He put his hands on the stocky little man's chest. "Angus! Just the man I was looking for! I have a set of horseshoes for you to look at," Mike said, referring to the chore he'd been assigned: blacksmith.
"Later, lad. I came to call the lass for the noon meal."
"I-I really think you should look at them now."
Angus's bushy red brows came together in a single line of disapproval. Before either man could talk, the sound of a very familiar feminine voice floated down from the hay loft above. "Oh, oh, God, yes! Damn!" Mike bit his lip to keep from laughing. Angus turned and stormed back to the house. Oh, yeah, it was definitely a compromising situation! And it sounded like Karen was back at last! Gettysburg. 1863 would never quite be the same.
He looked down at her. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "Karen, I've got you inside of me and I don't wanna get you out."
She arched her left eyebrow. "You've got me inside of you?" She shifted her hips a bit and he groaned. "Hm-m-m. That's an interesting turn of events."
He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. "You nut! You know what I mean! You're in my every thought, my every dream."
"Don't move. I like it like this, " Karen said softly when Paul started to leave her embrace. "You know...continuity, commitment, where one lets off the other begins. Is that what you're offering me?"
He kissed the curve of her jaw and the tiny cleft in her chin. "That and more. Going mystical on me, witchy woman?"
"Hardly."
His dark eyes twinkled. "It's a God thing, then."
"No!"
He laughed. "But you did say, oh, God not two minutes ago..." He lost his train of thought when she flexed herself around him. "Wh-Where did you...learn that?"
"Christian Sexuality," she replied, but added, " or how to please your husband with Biblical approval."
"Really?"
She laughed . "No! I made that up. I learned like everyone else. Mail order."
"Oohh...you made fun of religion. You know what that means, don't you?"
She playfully pushed him off of her and slipped into the pantalets. "It means you're gonna be cuckholded again if you don't shut up! And it means that I did my homework before we went to Little Round Top. I wasn't out for marriage. I swear. I only wanted to please you for as long as I was in Gettysburg."
"But now we're here. And you do please me in every way. Will you marry me?"
"If it pleases you, then yes. Don't do it for Angus. Do it because you want to." She buttoned the last button and winked at him. "Because you can get up under my skirts regardless."
He ran his hand over her stomach. "Are you still safe?"
"Probably not. Why?"
He helped her to her feet. "And if we collaborated on something just now?"
"Angus will have a stroke!" He took her hand with more tenderness than she's thought possible as they walked back to the house. Halfway there, he started a badly off key version of the song "Faith" by George Michael. He'd played that song so many times that she'd thought many times that he wanted to subliminally send the message of the song to her brain! She let him dance around and play his air guitar. When he was done, she arched one eyebrow in mock anger. "You've touched my body and you've reconsidered your foolish notion?"
He put both hands to her face and looked deep into her eyes. His lips quivered slightly, like he was about to cry. "No. I found my faith...in you, honey." Then he kissed her, not caring if Angus saw. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her the rest of the way, both of them laughing.



Angus had stormed in the door and went straight for his scotch bottle. Robin and Traci were dumbfounded until Mike came in nearly hysterical with laughter. He waited until the old man left the kitchen to retrieve the scotch before relaying what had happened in the barn. Before any further discussion could ensue, Angus entered from one door and Paul and Karen came through the back door. The girls waited nervously for what they knew could become a very heated discussion. Karen wasn't one to back down. But neither was the fiery little Scotsman. Karen made an attempt at modesty by lowering her eyes demurely and then looking up discreetly from under blond lashes. Angus wasn't buying it. He wanted to clear the room but Karen waved that off and sat down at the table. She obviously didn't know what Mike and Angus had heard or she wouldn't have been so cocky, Robin thought. But then, know-
ing Karen as well as she did, she just might have been.
"What can I do for you, Angus?" she asked. Angus gulped his scotch and was set to refill it. She put her hand over the glass and took the bottle from him. "I won't discuss anything with you unless you're sober."
"I told your Mr. Jefferson that I would not have ye dallyin' in me own house!"
She took a deep breath. "We haven't."
Angus's eyes bored into her. "And what do ye call what I just heard with me own ears?" He saw the recognition turn to shock in her blue eyes, but it was gone just as quick. "It's not proper for a lady to...to enjoy the touch of a man so much."
"Were you spying on me, Angus?"
He pressed his palms to the table and glared at her. "I wasn't even in the damned barn when I heard ye callin' to the Lord!"
Karen bit her lip to stop the laughter. She didn't understand exactly why she enjoyed that type of banter with the old man, but she knew that it made her day to pull his chain. Her father was always so distant and absorbed in his ministry. "All right...but I wasn't in the house, now was I?"
"Are ye that determined to have a child, lass?"
She felt Paul's hand on her shoulder, comforting and supportive. "Paul has asked me to marry him, Mr. MacTavish."
The old man's pale blue eyes narrowed. "And ye said yes?"
Karen flashed him a wicked smile. "You heard me, did you not?" She was satisfied with the pink blush creeping up behind his red beard. "Go on and fetch your preacher. We can't fight you."
Angus smiled approvingly. "Tis a wise thing ye be doin', laddie. The lass needs a firm hand. I'll have ye married by sundown on the thirtieth of the month."
"This month?!?" Robin asked. "But we have a cake to bake."
Angus sighed. "Well, ye best get crackin'! The lass doesn't believe in the word wait." With that settled, Angus bounded from the house. In and instant, he had his massive black stallion saddled and was off toward town. He needed to find a preacher. And quick!
When he returned home, he was blissfully tipsy. He tossed the reins of his mount to George and started toward the house. He was whistling some merry little tune until he looked up to see Karen on the back porch, arms folded across her bosom. As he got closer and his eyes focused on her face, he saw that her delicate blond brows came together in an obvious show of disapproval. "Angus MacTavish! You worry about my behavior and look at you now!" He was trying to get his foot firmly anchored on the porch step. Funny. He didn't remember there being two of them before. He turned a wheedling smile on her and breath that would given W.C. Fields the vapors! "What have you got to say for yourself?"
He carefully mounted the steps. When he looked up to face her, he very nearly swooned. She caught him and guided him into the house. "Surely a bonny lassie like yerself wouldn't begrudge a happy man a wee bit of celebration."
She wrinkled her nose. "A wee bit? That's like callin' the world series just a game!" she muttered under her breath. Something else that hadn't been invented yet! She was determined to get him straight to bed or the couch, whichever she could make it to before her back gave out. "What are you celebratin'?"
"What else? Ye won't be going to the altar with a bundle under your skirts!" He only made it as far as the divan and he was out cold.
Karen covered him with a light shawl and kissed his cheek. She reckoned that the good Lord had guided them to that kind man's home. Angus needed to feel needed and productive. And for all her teasing and chain pulling, she knew she felt a fondness in her heart for the gruff old geezer. Not because she looked like his dead wife or because he was so generous to them all. It was because he genuinely cared about her, flaws and all. When he was snoring loudly she tiptoed up to her room. Paul was waiting for her there. Oh, yes, Angus would throw a tantrum in the morning. Judging by the smell of him, he'd get up with a hangover and be ornery enough to throw not only a tantrum but a Loch Ness monster sized fit! And she would weather it with her usual elegance and grace...when pigs fly! She was already being married off in three days! What difference did it make how many times she "called to the Lord" in the interim? With that thought in mind she flew up the stairs on bare feet.
Paul was doing pushups when he heard Karen sneak into the room. She had taken to wearing her hair pinned up in the fashion of the day with either combs or pins. He'd never seen her put it up so he was fascinated with the procedure as she sat in front of the mirror to take it down. He came up behind her and took the hairbrush from her. He saw her surprise in her reflection when he started brushing out her hair until it shined. "Did you tell him I was up here?"
She shook her head. "He was drunk. He's sleeping it off in the living room. I'll handle him in the morning." She watched him unbutton the tiny pearl buttons. 'What's gotten into you?"
He shrugged. "Trying to act like a husband, I guess."
She got up suddenly and finished undressing. She swallowed hard. "This is just, too, too weird! What was I thinking?"
"Now who's having second thoughts?" he asked as he slipped between the sheets next to her. It was warm and humid but she was shivering. "You were thinking that it's the right thing to do? That your teaching tells you that we need to be married?"
"That my father is supposed to give me away and he can't do that because we're lost in a time warp. That I don't want to be a mother just yet and that there's no way for me to stop it. Angus's wife died in childbirth and he lost his son."
"And you think you will, too?"
She crossed her arms under her head and stared at the ceiling in the darkened room. "He said my hips were too narrow."
He smiled and uncovered her nude form. The little moonlight that streamed through the window made her almost ethereal. Well, there was one way that she couldn't get pregnant. He planted his lips against her navel, but she was too deep into thought to notice. She also didn't seem to mind when his lips brushed across that triangle of golden hair. But when his moist tongue touched her skin she jumped up so quickly that she damned near broke his jaw with her knee! "Damn!" he groaned. In a flash she was on her knees beside him, cradling his sore jaw against her bare breast. He smiled as he thought that he could definitely get used to her ministrations. "I forgot you were lethal," he said, making sure he groaned a little more than was necessary.
"I'm sorry, honey! I...I just...well...."
"I was just checking your hips," he pouted.
She pulled away from him and looked at him. "With your tongue?"
He laid back against the pillow and settled her in the curve of his arm. He breathed deeply and let the air expell slowly. "Let me guess...that's a sin, too."
"No, it just grosses me out," she said softly.
"With you as the giver or the taker?"
"Can we not talk about this?" In six days she'd had more sex and discussed sex more than she had in all of her eighteen years! It made her uncomfortable. But the look he gave her told her that he was not giving up until she answered. "As the giver. But I believe that marriage or relationships are fifty-fifty. If I don't do..."
He laughed and snuggled her closer to him. "We'll have to work on that." She started to protest but he pressed his lips against hers. When he released her, she was too out of breath to argue. "Now...tell me your life story. I don't even know when your birthday is or your favorite color."
"October 25th, 1975, purple and I was named Karen in honor of Karen Carpenter because mom was and is a fan."
Paul knew that his bride-to-be was somewhat reserved when it came to her family life. She never hesitated to talk about her mother. She was obviously Karen's rock...besides Jesus. But she fidgeted when asked about her father. Paul had met with Marjorie Hampton on a number of occasions. But he'd only met the good reverend on three separate visits. If he looked at Paul like he was less than human. Paul understood that. He was older, a born Catholic and a practicing atheist...well, at least he was until very recently. But the way Hampton looked at his own daughter infuriated him. Oh, no. He knew that Karen had never been molested by her father. Intimidated was a more accurate word. Karen was a dutiful and obedient daughter. But he made sure that his child lived in constant fear of failure and damnation. And all because he was disappointed because she wasn't a son. What broke Paul's heart the most was the last admission she made before she fell asleep in his arms. Her mother had been talking about having another baby and hoping it was a boy only a week before the gang had gone time surfing. Karen said she hoped that her father would finally get the son he's always wanted to make things right. Paul felt the anger course through him as he cuddled her sleeping body. If they...no, when they got back home, he made a mental note to beat the crap out of Richard Hampton!