TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "PAINT"

 

welcome! This week, we are writing to the word prompt "paint." I have another episode of "Sam's Decision." Don't forget to hop on over and read the other entry today. You'll find it HERE. 

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Martha Chesney cast a shrewd glance at her grandson. She’d painted a lovely picture in her mind of his marrying Becky and living in town, maybe in back of the general store. She’d envisioned great-grandchildren nearby. But the way he’d looked at Violet shattered that dream. Obviously Sam had other ideas.

While she enjoyed a little flirting with Abiel Wilcox, she didn’t trust him. She wondered if he’d been behind this sudden flowering of an attraction between his granddaughter and her grandson.

While Martha didn’t know Violet, she had to admit to herself the girl was the most handsome in the town. A quick vision in her mind of their offspring confirmed they would have the most beautiful children in all of Fitch’s Eddy. Still, she’d always thought Becky would be his intended. She liked Becky and approved of Sam's choice.

Smiling to herself, Martha admitted that she was a mere mortal – who was she to predict who Sam would love and marry? The young man had a mind of his own. And right now she figured his sights were being reset to fall on the lovely Violet Wilcox.

That would make Abiel Wilcox kin. She’d have a hard time shakin’ him off if he kept up his attentions. Looks like Martha would have to create a different picture for herself, along with the one she envisioned for Sam.

That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "SKIN"

 

Welcome! This week our word prompt is "skin". We are still in "Sam's Decision." Don't forget to check out the other authors' stories. Find them HERE. 

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  “How mighty nice to see you again, Mrs. Chesney. You’re looking right fine,” he said.

An attractive blush stained her cheeks. “You clean up nice yourself, Sheriff,” she said. “This way.” Martha led the way to the dining room.

Abigail, Caleb, Lizzy, and Jem were already seated at a table near the kitchen. Sam poured cider for them and took his seat. Violet sashayed up to Sam and held out two peppermints.

“Do you like peppermint, Mr. Chesney,” she said, peeking out from under her long black lashes.

Sam turned so fast, he almost spilled the contents of the pitcher. His gaze traveled her length and color suffused his cheeks. “I sure do, Miss Wilcox. I sure do. Thank you,” he said as she placed the candies in his palm, then curled his fingers over the gift.

Abiel watched her spin her web around Sam Chesney. His granddaughter dripped charm – a quality he hadn’t paid much mind to before. He smiled to himself. Sam didn’t stand a chance against Violet’s powers of seduction.

Sam popped one in his mouth. “Did you make these yourself, Miss Wilcox?” he asked.

“I did, indeed.”

“Mighty fine,” Sam said. “Best I’ve ever et.”

“I made apple tarts, too, this afternoon. You’re most welcome to stop by after supper and sample one,” Violet made eye contact with Sam before lowering her gaze.

“Mighty obliged. Thank you.”

Hope shot a knowing look at her father, who gave a slight nod in return.

Martha narrowed her gaze. “Don’t dillydally, Sam. Get to pourin’. People are hungry and thirsty. We got to get this meal goin’.”

The Lee family took their seats. Sam finished filling the glasses and returned to his seat.

“Lizzy!” Martha called.

The young girl scurried into the kitchen. She carried out each bowl filled to the brim with steaming rabbit stew. When all were served, Lizzy brought out loaves of bread and sweet butter and set them on each table.

Sam shifted in his chair so he could see Violet. As he ate, he lifted his gaze from his fork to her face. He’d been told it wasn’t polite to stare, but outside of Becky, he’d never see such a beautiful girl. Candlelight reflect in the silky black of her hair. The graceful shape of her face, the gentle rosiness of her skin, along with the delicate blue of her eyes captivated him.

He rested his gaze on her slender neck and shoulders. Barely able to tear his eyes away from the gentle swell of her breasts showing above the lacy neckline of her frock, he blushed when his mother cleared her throat. She leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“It’s not polite to stare. Even at a girl as pretty as Violet.”

That's it. Thanks for stopping by.