TUESDAY TALELS - WORD PROMPT "YEAR"

 

Welcome!

This week of the beginning of the new year, our word prompt is "year"! Not very original, but fun nonetheless. We have more about poor Sam's fate this week. When you're done, bop on over to the other writers of Tuesday Tales. Find their wonderful stories HERE. 

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“Sit down, son. How nice for you to pay me a visit,” Abiel said, taking the comfortable chair by the fire.

“Yessir,” Sam said, taking off his hat.

“Something on your mind?” Abiel prompted.

Sam twisted his hand in his hand. This was it. The moment of truth.

“Yessir. I was fixin’ to ask your daughter, Violet, to be my wife. If you don’t have any objections,” Sam blurted out.

Abiel raised his eyebrows. “Violet marry you? What are your prospects, Sam?”

“I’m fixin’ to take over one of Mr. Fitch’s farms,” Sam twisted his hat in his hands. “It’s already got a nice little house. Potatoes and carrots planted. I got seeds for squash, and plenty more. It’s got apple trees, too. We’ll have a big harvest in the fall. My sister’s gonna give me some chickens, too. So, we’ll have plenty of food. Violet won’t go hungry. I’ll take care of her. Take care of her real good.”

“You think so?” Abiel tamped down the tobacco in his pipe and lit a match.

“We’ll get flour and butter from the Inn. My grandma always has some to spare.”

“I see. And you think she’ll be happy there?” Abiel puffed on the pipe, drawing in the flame from the match.

“Yessir. She said she wanted to be a farmer’s wife.”

“You won’t work her too hard, will you?” Abiel cast a severe glance Sam’s way.

“No sir. No sir. I’ll take care of her.”

“I see.”

“I love her, Mr. Lee,” Sam lied.

“You do? Pretty quick, I’d say.”

“When love hits, you don’t need years to see it. At least that’s what my grandma always says. Said she knew she’d marry my grandpa same day she met him.”

Abiel nodded. “I see.”

“Do I got your permission, Mr. Lee?” Sam untwisted his hat then twisted it up the other way.

“If Violet agrees, you have my blessing.”

“I do?” Sam’s voice went up an octave.

“You do. See you do take good care of her, Samuel Chesney. She’s the apple of my eye.”

“I will, Mr. Lee. I will. I promise.”

“You’re a fine lad. I believe you. Now run along. It’s late.” Abiel Lee stood, tapped his pipe on the brick of the fireplace and yawned. Sam took the hint and scooted ahead to the door.

Once outside, he let out a breath. He’d done it. Now all he had to do was make the proposal to Violet. After what he’d just been through, that seemed easy.

 

 

That's all. Thanks for stopping by!

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "HOLIDAY"

 

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, where writers create stories to word prompts. This week our word prompt is "holiday". Rather fitting, don't you think? I have another installment from "Sam's Decision."  Don't forget to hop on over to read the other stories by our talented writers. You'll find them HERE.  

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After dinner, Caleb raised his eyebrows and stared at Sam.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Martha asked, her sharp glance darted back and forth between Caleb and Sam.

“Nothin’, Grandma. Thanks for dinner. I best be goin’.”

“Goin’ where?”

“Now, Martha, let the young man be,” Caleb said, pushing away from the table.

“I’ll help clean up, Ma,” Abigail said.

“Fine.”

Sam slipped out the door and set his feet in the direction of the Wilcox home. As his mind worked, her slowed his pace. Somehow he couldn’t get up much enthusiasm for the task at hand. He recalled how he counted the minutes until Becky opened the store the day he decided to propose to her. He’d been all het up, his breath comin’ quick, his heart thumpin’ like a racehorse on the home stretch.

Now he kept a steady even pace as he plotted out what to say to Mr. Wilcox. His breath was even and steady as was his heartbeat.

“Is this what it is to be a man?” he asked himself in hushed tones. “Doin’ the right thing?”

He knew it was, but that didn’t make it any easier. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Violet Wilcox. He did. She made his blood run hot and he could barely take his eyes off her beauty. But she didn’t capture his heart like Becky did.

“I’ll learn to love her. That’s what  Caleb said.” Resigned to his fate, he plodded ahead. “It ain’t like I’m going to the gallows.” Yeah, but it also wasn’t like a big holiday neither. He finally arrived at their door. He swallowed, then raised  his fist to knock on the door. Mr. Wilcox answered.

“Why, Sam, how nice for you to come for a visit,” Abiel Wilcox said, as he took Sam by the arm and ushered him inside.

Maybe this was a little like a turkey felt the day before Thanksgiving, Sam thought, as he stepped across the threshold.

Thanks for stopping by. 

Tuesday Tales - Word Prompt "Shady" - December 10

Welcome! Tuesday Tales continues this week with more of "Sam's Decision". Today we have the story from Violet's perspective. When you're done, hop on over and read the works of the fabulous Tuesday Tales authors. Find them HERE.  

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Across town, Violet stepped across the threshold of her home quietly. The fire in the main room still burned. She saw her father in his chair snoring, his chin resting on his chest. Trying as hard as she could to move without making a sound, she bumped into a chair hiding in the shadows.

“What? What? Who’s that?” Abiel Wilcox started awake.

“Tis me, Father.”

Abiel knocked his pipe against a wooden bowl and set it down on a small table. “Violet?”

“Yes,” she said, casting her eyes to the floor, She shivered, trying to cast off the ugliness of her shady behavior with Sam.

Abiel pushed to his feet, brushed off some telltale tobacco bits from his vest and stretched his arms up before turning to face his daughter. “Well?”

“It’s done, Father. It’s done.”

Abiel approached her. He cupped her chin. “I’m sorry child, but it was the only way.”

“He’ll be round to see you soon, I reckon,” she said softly.

He nodded. “What’s done is done. We have to make the best of it. You might like farm life,” he ventured.

With full, angry eyes, Violet shot him a look, then stormed out to her room and slammed the door.

Once inside, she ignored her sleeping mother and threw herself on the bed, sobbing.

“Zeb. Zeb. Where are you?” she said into her pillow, muffling the sound as best she could.

Her mother awoke and turned on her side. She stroked her daughter’s back.

“It’s best this way, Violet.”

“No, it isn’t, Mother. It isn’t.”

“I’m sorry dear. You have only Zeb to blame. He led you on. I know you believed his love was true. This is for the best. You’ll have your own house and a man who loves you. That should be a comfort.”

Violet wiped her face and pulled the covers over her. She knew her mother was right. Marrying Sam should be a comfort. He was a good man. She’d have to work hard, but together they could build a life for her child. Yes, it should be a great comfort. But it wasn’t. It simply was no comfort at all.” 

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

Tuesday Tales - Word Prompt "Careful" - December 3

 

Welcome! I hope you had a good holiday. We're back to Tuesday Tales as we all race toward the Christmas holiday! This week the word prompt is "careful" and we're back with Sam as he is careful to sneak home after his tryst with Violet. When you're done, go over to read the other authors great stories. You'll find them HERE. 

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When he reached the Inn, he stopped briefly to stare at the glass windows to see if he showed any signs of his earlier activity, but it was too dark to see.

The Inn clock chimed midnight. He frowned at the thought of how tired he’d be the next morning when he’d drag himself out of bed to go to work early the next morning. He opened the Inn door slowly, careful not to awaken anyone. He tiptoed across the floor.

“A bit late to be returning from walking Miss Wilcox home, isn’t it?” came a firm voice. “Did you take the long way, across the Lee farm?”

Sam jumped and whirled around. “Grandma! What are you doing up?”

Sitting in a rocking chair, arms crossed firmly across her chest, “Waiting for you.” She looked him over before continuing her inquisition. “What took you so long? I hope you weren’t up to any mischief,” she said.

“No,” he lied. “Of course not. It’s late. I won’t be able to get up for work if I don’t get to bed.”

She made a face.

Quickly averting his eyes from her searching stare,  Sam muttered.“ Goodnight, Grandma,” He beat a hasty retreat to avoid the scrutiny of her sharp eye.

“Goodnight,” she muttered, shaking her head.                     

Sam shut his door, ripped off his clothes and fell into bed and was fast asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

That's all for today. Thanks for stopping by. 

Tuesday Tales - Word Prompt "Thanks" - November 26

 

  Welcome! This is Thanksgiving week. So we have an appropriate word prompt, "thanks". We're returning to the world of Colonial America again this week with more of Sam's story. When you're done here, please stop over and read the other stories by our wonderful Tuesday Tales writers. You'll find them HERE. 

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After their intimacy, Violet pushed her skirt down and smoothed the cotton fabric. Sam ran his fingers through his hair. What had he done? Shame filled him. He’d gone over the line and done the one thing Caleb told him not to do. But he couldn’t take it back now.

He wracked his brain, looking for a way out, a way to make it better. While Violet fussed with her hair, an idea great in his brain. Shyly, with a hoarse voice, Sam reached for Violet. He took her arm and gently turned her to face him.

“Violet, I love you. Will you marry me?”

She laughed. “Feeling guilty already?”

“No, no,” Sam lied.

“Yes, you are. If I don’t end up with child, we can simply admit we got carried away. I won’t hold you to your proposal. Here, help me with my dress,” she said, turning her back to him.

He laced up the back, tying and fastening whatever he could see in the dim light before he spoke.

“But I did the wrong thing. I wasn’t a gentleman. I took advantage.”

“No, you didn’t,” she said, patting his cheek.

He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “You’re special, Violet.”

She primped one last time. “How do I look?”

Sam leaned back a tad and looked her over. “I’ll be darned. You look like you just stepped out of your house, ready to go to the harvest festival.”

She smiled. “Thanks. Let’s set you to rights,” she said, fussing with his hair and buttoning his shirt. “You’re half naked.”

Cool air on his skin reminded him of his state of undress. He rose to his feet and put his clothing back together. Once he was dressed, he faced her.

“You’re beautiful.”

She took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly. “I love you, Sam Chesney.”

“Come be my wife. Live with me on my farm.” He stroked her cheek.

She smiled, but kept silent. “I must get home.”

“I’ll speak to your father tomorrow,” he said.

She took his arm and matched her stride to his. “We’ll see.”

Thanks for stopping by. Happy holidays! 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "MOUSE"

 

Welcome! Today's word prompt is "mouse". We have more of Sam's story. Things might get a little steamy. When you've finished with my story, hop on over to the great stories by the other Tuesday Tales authors. Find them HERE. 

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Momentarily coming to his senses, Sam let go and leaned back. He stared hard at Violet. Her lovely face, kissed by silvery moonlight, was tilted up. She blinked, then her half-closed eyes met his. She cupped his cheek and flashed him a smoldering half smile. Sliding her hand up into his hair, she murmured.

“Sweet Sam, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he stammered.

“It’s just nature. Meant to be. You and me,” she said, sliding her palm down the side of his neck.

Heat grew rapidly in his body. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, hoping to let it out and cool down, but it didn’t happen.

Don’t lose control Caleb’s words echoed in his head.

A sudden swift movement caught Sam and Violet’s attention. She screamed and yanked her foot up and under her skirt.

“A mouse! A mouse!” Her eyes wide, her luscious lips trembled, and her body shook. She leaped into Sam’s lap and clung to his chest.

Sam saw the guilty party glance up for a second before scurrying away under the bushes. Sam wound his arms around her. Sobs emanated from her mouth as her body shook. She buried her face in his neck.

“It’s okay. It’s gone.”

“You must protect me,” she whispered.

“I will. I will. I’ll protect you forever,” he said.

She sat up straight, placing her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. With her breasts crushed against his chest, she lifted her mouth to accept his. Sam took her mouth with a savage desire he couldn’t stop.

“Sam, Sam, I love you,” she muttered.

His control broke, all thought left him except for the overwhelming will to satisfy both his desire and hers. Violet offered no resistance, but instead encouraged him. And he did what any man would in that situation.

Thanks for stopping by. 

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "FAN"

 

Howdy doodle! Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week we have more of Sam's story. When you've finished reading my snippet, hop on over to the other authors and read their great stories. You'll find them HERE. 

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The cool night air cleared the confusion from Sam’s brain. He’d been dead set on Becky Rhodes becoming his wife, but now here he was with lovely Violet Wilcox on his arm. And no chaperone anywhere to be seen.

“This way,” Violet said, leading Sam behind a large rhododendron bush. They were concealed from view of any of the townsfolk. Violet slowed down and brushed up against Sam. He felt parts of her he ought’n to be feeling.

Heat crept up his chest into his cheeks. He fanned his face for a moment. How could he be so hot when it was a cool autumn night?

“Sam,” Violet whispered. “Let’s sit for a spell.” She stopped by a large flat rock and plopped down, pulling him down next to her.

“Ain’t you cold?” he asked.

“Actually I am. Can you put your arm around me?” she replied.

He did as she asked and she snuggled up against him. Suddenly he understood all the instructions and cautions Caleb had given him. His mind understood, but he body rebelled. 

Violet stared at his mouth. The moonlight kissed her hair with silver. He’d never seen a woman as beautiful.

“Don’t you want to kiss me, Sam?” she whispered softly.

It was like she could read his mind. He’d never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss Violet Wilcox. He grabbed her, pulling her up against him, and covered her mouth with his. His kiss was hungry, and demanding. And she complied.

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