A Love So Bold
by Anon Allsop

The story continues - Hope you enjoy!

-Fifteen-

In her dreams she looked down at herself from above sleeping with little Em, and there was a man standing at the rim of the embankment. She sat up and turned to face him, the Walker Colt raised and threatening.

The man in the dream was a kind man, he approached her, gently removing the gun and placing it in the grass beside them. He kissed her passionately, as his rough, working man's hands tenderly held each side of her face. Again and again they kissed, until he had lowered her into the soft grasses. She was beside herself with concern. Why didn't she resist his advance? Why did she so willingly allow him to control her as he did?

She threw her head back into the grass as he began to kiss and fondle her breasts, arching her body to allow the man better access to her femininity. Even though asleep, she couldn't fathom why she would allow this to happen and yet, why she wouldn't put up more of a struggle. It was as though her body wanted to experience this from the feminine perspective.

She raised her head and looked toward her lover, both were somehow unclothed. Her knees opened wide to allow him access to her most private parts, she touched his warm length with her tiny hand, guiding him to the area they both coveted. With a pleasurable sigh from her willing lips, he settled in and proceeded to impale her repeatedly with his ridged penis.

As they rocked in unison, her mind told her that she shouldn't be doing this, yet her body wanted it more than anything she had ever needed. He grunted and she felt his back shake, another grunt and she could feel the pulsing from within. She couldn't feel the release she desperately wanted, the desire was there but without the result.

As he finished, he rose up and almost instantly he alone was clothed. He tipped his hat and walked away into a blur-filled landscape. She on the other hand was still sitting in the grass, completely naked and now, enormously pregnant. Her dream self looked down at the large belly, wondering how would she cope, heading west with two babies to care for. She began to cry. In the midst of her sobbing she heard a sound, almost like a whisper, and this caused her to slowly open her eyes.

To the east, there was a lightening of the sky, and thankfully, it had only been a dream. She sighed looking down at her narrow waist and tummy, still feeling the residual effects of her dream's lovemaking as she sat up. There was still a pleasant strangeness to her vagina.

Her mind went back to the voice, the softness of it almost made Hannah think that she was hearing things. It came from above her, yet as she looked up onto the uppermost side of the embankment, nothing was there. She rose up to her feet and looked as far as she could see without climbing to the top, her eyes rewarded with absolutely nothing.

She nervously settled back down and played with Em, but continued listening. Glancing toward the daisies that surrounded her, none were moving, so she felt relativity confident she could cross off the wind as what may have made the sound. Her mind kept returning to the stranger she met only yesterday, and became fearful. Silently she stood carrying Em, and retrieved the Walker Colt, then returned to her spot near the daisies.

"What was it exactly that I thought I heard?" she wondered to herself. She replayed it again in her mind, recalling it sounding much like a child's whisper. "Mommy?" it had said, in a haunting specter sort of way.

With the voice and her recent dream still unnerving her, she laid the Walker Colt in the grass beside her, and covered it with a part of her chemise. She was taking the wagon master's suggestion, and keeping it close.

"Hannah? My God, it is you…" The voice whispered incredulously from above her. Her eyes darted toward the voice and at the same time, her hand sought out the gun.

She was standing now, brought quickly to her feet by the male’s voice. She looked up toward the stranger, Em cradled in her arm and the gun rose, held by a trembling hand. It was all she could to muster the strength and cock the gun using only one hand.

The man standing at the top of the embankment was quickly joined by a young boy. Cautiously, he pushed the youth behind him, holding his hands up with palms out. "I'm not going to hurt you, Hannah." He spoke softly, not wanting to scare the woman into pulling the trigger.

"Do I know you?" she asked, taking a more firm grip on the gun. "Are you with that man that I had to chase off yesterday?" The gun was heavy; the weight caused her aim to waver.

“You know damn well who I am, Hannah.” He sighed in his frustration, “Now put the gun down and let me come down to talk.” She lowered the barrel off of him directly, but still kept it elevated.

Hannah’s eyes went from the man to the little boy who was hiding, he looked at him and then back toward her, “Son, you’d better wait up here.”

She watched him crouch low and then slide the length of the embankment face, loose dirt following him down. He stood at the bottom and began to walk toward the distraught female. “Hannah, please put the gun down. You may still be mad at me, but I don’t think you want to kill me.”

“Gideon?” she whispered, unbelieving; he looked so much like the man in her dream.

“Yes honey, it’s me…Gideon,” he said, easing slowly toward her. Hannah lowered the gun as he began to walk nearer. “You are alive…but how?” he asked, tears welling up in his eyes.

“When the boy ran back to the wagon and said he saw the ghost of his mama, I thought he was making it up.” He gently took the gun and eased the hammer back into its resting position, then inserted it inside his belt. “I saw you shot…the arrow, and oh my God…I saw you fall!” he recalled.

Hanna didn’t know what to say; she just stood in the glade in her chemise and holding Em. He gently touched her shoulders, his fingers entwined in her long red hair as he gently cupped her soft cheek. Drawing the stunned female in, he kissed her deeply. Again and again he smothered her with his hot kisses, his tongue more than once sought out her own.

She backed up enough to pull away from his kisses. While it felt somewhat strange, it wasn’t without an odd sense of pleasure. “You don’t understand, Gideon. I’m not the Hannah you think I am.” She said as she touched her lips where he had just kissed.

He stood, saddened beyond words, tears in his eyes. “So you ARE still upset with me?”

“I don’t know anything about you, upset or not, Gideon. This is the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on you!” She felt a pang of embarrassment as she was sure he could see through her chemise. She bent over and picked up the shawl that had covered Em the night before and placed it over her shoulders, allowing the long ends to cover her breasts.

Gideon sat down hard, removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you remember anything of what happened?”

“To me or to Hannah?” she replied.

He looked at the ground and softly groaned, “Just before they had attacked, you and I were arguing. You said some pretty spiteful things to me…told me that the first chance you got you would be leaving and heading back to Pennsylvania.” He rubbed his chin and continued, “Them Indians hit us fast, later on that day, and when they did, you jumped out of the wagon. I tried to stop you, I saw you shot in the chest; the arrow was sticking out…that’s when I was struck with a war club. They would have scalped me if it weren’t for Mr. Bloom. He shot the Indian and they drug me back into their wagon with Cade.”

“Papa, can I come down there?” the soft voice above asked.

Hannah recognized the voice as the one she heard as she was coming out of her dream. She watched Gideon stand to help his son down. “See, mommy is no ghost, and she’s here with little Emma.”

The little boy raced toward Hannah and embraced her and Em, “I’m glad you aren’t dead, momma.”

“So am I, Cade,” she said as she crouched low, and let her son see his sister; Gideon was standing watching the entire scene with a smile.

“So you don’t remember any of what happened?” he finally asked.

“I have to be honest with you, Gideon. When I found your wife, she was shot in the chest with the arrow and dying.” Gideon folded his arms and just sighed. “She was begging me to take Emma to be with her father…you.”

“Hannah, I…”

She stopped him as she continued, “When she passed, something strange happened and somehow …we swapped places…only I was her and she became me, but she was still dead.”

Gideon’s face lowered to the ground, “You know that what you are claiming should be impossible….but…”

“But it’s God’s truth,” she interrupted him. “If you don’t believe me, go dig up her body…you’ll see.”

“I already did,” he said sadly.

“And what did you find under those rocks?” She asked smugly.

“A teenage boy wearing clothing my wife wore on the day of the attack…” He reached his hand out and caressed Emma’s tiny face lovingly. “I also found this.” He removed a cloth from his pocket and gently unfolded it, “It wasn’t hers but I was wondering if you could recognize it.”

“It’s the necklace I found in the shack!” Hannah reached out to grab it, but Gideon pulled it away and wrapped it once again in the cloth. “But that’s mine…” she demanded.

He pushed it back into his pocket where she could only look at it. “I accidentally touched it to what she was wearing. I became her for quite a spell. It’s not something I want to do ever again.”

“That little thing caused me to change into her?” She was filled with wonder.

“Yes, it took me a half a day to be able to figure out how to become myself again. Thank God I had thought to hang my hat on the horse…one touch and I returned back to normal.” He patted the pocket and smiled.

“I can return to being me then?” she asked hopefully.

“It depends; do you have any clothing that your old self wore prior to the change?” He asked, wondering if she thought to keep anything.

She shook her head no, the long red hair shifting from her shoulder as she did so. He shrugged, “Then I guess you’re stuck like you are… but that might not be so bad.”

“Since you already have the… ah…proper equipment, perhaps you would consider staying as you are for the time being?” he asked hesitatingly.

It dawned upon the beautiful woman what he had said only moments before, "Wait a minute; you said it happened to you too?" Hannah questioned, but was thankful that she had someone else that could prove the occurrence. "So, you know how I can change back?"

"I do, but I want you to hear me out before you try anything." He pursed his lips, unsure how she would take what he was compelled to ask.

Hannah stared at him, almost dreading what he was going to ask, but inwardly knowing. "Go on..."

"I know being Hannah isn't without its distraction, and I know that from my own experience. But... Emma needs her mother and since you've been doing it for awhile now, and are obviously better equipped for that duty… I was wondering if you might keep it up for both Emma and Cade." He took off his hat and stood, nervously rotating it in his grasp.

"For the children..." she repeated, not believing him or his sincerity."…or is it for you?"

"Look, I know what you must be thinking, but I'll leave you alone. I just need help with them, especially Emma. Without you being Hannah, I don't think they'll have a chance." He again nervously rotated his hat, and then severely began to roll the brim.

Hannah stood there with Em in her chemise; Cade reached up and took her hand in his own. She looked down at his face, filled with innocence turned toward hers. "Can we go back now? I'm hungry."

Hannah adjusted her stance, and then sighed deeply. "I'll go with you, I'll play the dutiful mommy, but when we arrive in Oregon...I'm done. I want to be changed back so I can go on my way."

"I understand." He hesitated, growing quiet for an extended length of time. "We'll have to keep up the ruse of a happy union, you and I." He cleared his throat, "I loved Hannah with all my heart, but I won't have anybody thinking she was a 'shirker' on being a mother."

"Okay, that's fine… as long as we keep all this on the up and up." She made a circle motion with her slender finger then looked down toward the children, "If you can agree with that, then I think we understand each other clearly."

She stood in silence as he turned to look at Blackie, "He's my father’s horse...well, I suppose he's mine now."

"He's a beautiful horse." He slowly approached him and, surprisingly to Hannah, he allowed Gideon to pet his face. "You're a good boy, aren't you?" He cooed as he stroked the side of the sleek black thoroughbred, "He sure is a magnificent beast."

Hannah slowly walked the children to her cart and began to dress herself, Cade insisted on holding Emma so their mother carefully placed her in his arms. As she continued dressing, she caught Gideon looking over the back of the horse at her getting ready.

It wasn't a lecherous stare but rather one of wonderment. To her though, his attention span was about as short as a child. As she was lacing her corset she decided that she would have to work on that with him.

She began to adjust her skirt and realized what she had been thinking; in reality she had no real interest in 'working with him' on his attention span. That sounded too much like something a woman would say and she would be damned if she would go that far with any male.

Gideon studied her cart, "Where did you find this little thing?"

"In a dry wash. We had been riding on Blackie for some time and... we just found it." She was adjusting her bodice as he stepped around, and he watched her for a full half minute before she realized he was there.

For some strange reason, it didn't really bother her that he was watching her dress. She wasn't sure if it had to do with who she used to be, or that she didn't care... or the fact that 'she' was already used to him being near when she dressed, a sort of residual comfort level that the original Hannah may have had. That last thought troubled her, so she tried to push it out of her head by changing the subject.

"So where did you put your wagon?" She asked as she lifted Em to her shoulder, "Do we walk there or did you want to take the cart?"

He had been mesmerized at her beauty. Although she still looked like 'his Hannah', there was something exotic about her, with her red curls flowing in disarray about her face and shoulders and not in the tight bun that his Hannah had worn. Her comment suddenly sank into his mind and he quickly replied, trying to avoid staring again at her breathtaking loveliness.

"We... we can take the cart," he stammered. "It'll be easier than trucking everything back there by hand."

Hannah quietly played with the Cade and Em in the grass, showing her son how to create a daisy-chain while Gideon hitched up Blackie. When he had finished, he walked to them and bent down to pick up Emma, then offered Hannah his hand.

She felt strange being doted on like he had been doing, yet she didn't mind it in the least. It was nice not having to hitch the team or do much of the manual labor for a change. He led her to the cart and placed Em in the box where she had been cradled since she left Cap and Luttie.

Hannah stood off to the side while Gideon picked up Cade and sat him in the back of the cart.

"There you go, son, hold onto the box so Emma doesn't slide." He then turned toward Hannah, "Next." He held his hand and waited for her to step onto one of the spokes, supporting her as she climbed into the seat.

She felt a strange thrill within her stomach as he gently slid his hand across her waist, helping her settle in. She tucked her dress beneath herself and sat, demurely waiting with her slender hands in her lap while he climbed into the narrow seat.

He nickered to Blackie who began to pull the family around the pond to a point they could exit the embankment. As the cart crossed the rise in the land, Hannah leaned close, linking her arm around his. She wanted to make sure that anyone who saw them approaching, would only witness a very loving family... just as she had promised.