SweetAsSuga
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jan 24, 2012
- Posts
- 1,471
OOC - Looking for two men or one to play both parts. PM me if you are interested.
Parts available
Jonah Wilder (OPEN) - Childhood friend who has recently returned from serving in the Confederate Army.
Grant Ferguson (OPEN) - A banker, new to town, who hails from the North East. Chosen by Rosalyn's father to be her suitor.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” A petulant, ten-year-old, Rosalyn Grace whined, her lower lip jutting out as she folded her arms over her chest. “You cheated.”
“Did not!” Exclaimed Jonah Wilder with hands on his hips. Two years Rosalyn’s senior, Jonah was not amused with having to entertain the child. But his mother had insisted that he play hide-and-seek with the child while she visited with Caroline Grace, Rosalyn’s mother.
“This is stupid.” Jonah kicked at a dirt clod and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I ain’t gonna play with no little cry baby.”
“I’m not a cry baby.” Rosalyn stuck her nose up in the air, her blonde ringlets shaking with righteous childhood anger. “And I’m telling.” Taking off as fast as her legs could carry her, Rosalyn ran from the horse barn to the two-story ranch house, bits of straw hanging to the hem of her brown, calico dress.
“Only cry babies tattle.” Jonah screamed, racing after her, clutching his felt hat to his head so it wouldn’t fall off.
Racing up the steps of the wraparound porch, Rosalyn ran to where the two women sat in rocking chairs. Burying her face in her mother’s lap, a difficult feat since Caroline was in the last weeks of her pregnancy.
“Now what’s this?” Caroline asked, a light laugh in her voice as Rosalyn tried to climb into her lap with tears in her wide, blue eyes.
“Jonah cheated. He said he would count to one hundred, but he didn’t and I didn’t have time to hide.” Rosalyn cried as her mother’s arm wrapped around her.
“Did not.” The boy in question hopped up onto the porch railing, his feet dangling and his face set in defiance.
“You two need to play nicely.” Jonah’s mother, Lily Wilder said with a frown.
“And, Rosalyn, you need to act like a big girl, especially with your little brother on the way. You’re going to need to act the lady of the house while your mother takes care of him.”
Rosalyn looked at her mother’s large stomach with disdain. She knew the baby was going to change everything. No longer would she be Momma’s favorite and Daddy would spend more time with a boy than he would with a girl. Would she still be Daddy’s princess once the baby came?
“Oh hush, Rachel.” Caroline waved a hand in dismissal. “Rosalyn has no need to act a lady until she’s older. That’s why we hired Cora, to help take care of everything after the baby comes.” She turned a bright smile to the children in front of her. “Why don’t you two play something else, something where no one can cheat.”
Hopping down from the railing, Jonah reached a hand out and swatted Rosalyn on the shoulder.
“Tag you’re it!” He cried, jumping off the porch and running across the dirt towards the pasture.
“That’s not fair.” Rosalyn screamed as she tore after him, her tears and worries quickly forgotten as her little legs pumped hard, racing after her friend.
As the sun nestled on the horizon, Rosalyn Grace bowed low over her horse’s straining neck. The ground passed quickly beneath her as the mare raced across the pasture. Wind whipped through her blonde curls, which had long since come loose from the knot atop her head.
“C’mon, girl,” she urged the mare forward, applying pressure to the horse’s haunches. The mare leapt forward, her pace quickening to a heart-pounding gallop. Rosalyn’s tan Stetson slapped against her back, the string that held it on dug slightly into the soft flesh of her throat. The tall grass whipped against her legs as Rosalyn rode through the pasture land; cattle barely looking up from their grazing, so used to her presence, as she sped past.
Behind her, the sun had turned a brilliant red-orange as it hit the horizon, coloring the sky with fiery hues. Ahead, the outline of the ranch house came into view, lamps already in the windows.
“Thought you said you’d be back an hour ago.” Christian, Harlan Grace’s foreman, leaned against the corral railing as Rosalyn pulled her mare to a stop.
“I know, time just got away from me.” She said, jumping off the horse easily in her loose trousers. “Is Daddy back yet?” Blue eyes glanced, worriedly, towards the window of Harlan’s office. The window was dark, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sitting at his desk contemplating his day or remembering days past.
“Not yet,” he spat a wad of tobacco onto the ground, “but he’s due back any minute.”
He started walking the mare around the coral to cool her down, the stiffness in his left leg obvious with every step, the only evidence of the bullet that had nearly cost him the limb. Rosalyn propped her arms up on the railing and watched as the mare tossed her head proudly.
“I wouldn’t hang about if I were you,” Christian said, glancing over at her.
“Your daddy’s bringing company back with him.”
Cursing under her breath, Rosalyn quickly made her way into the house, calling a hello to the housekeeper, Cora, as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.
Ten minutes later, Rosalyn emerged from her bedroom dressed in a simple tan skirt and white blouse, her bun perfectly repaired. Sitting in the living room, her father stood to greet her with tight hug. In his late forties, Harlan Grace was a formidable man. Tall and muscular, his skin deeply tanned and lined from his years in the sun, he looked every bit the cattle baron that he was. As a child, Rosalyn had been her father’s little princess, he was wrapped around her little finger and would have given her the moon had she asked. When his beloved Caroline had died in childbirth, along with their son, the bond between father and daughter had only grown.
But, since Rosalyn had grown into a woman, now close to spinsterhood as she neared her twenty-fifth birthday, Harlan had been putting more and more pressure on her to calm her wild ways and settle down with a husband.
“Darling, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Harlan said, stepping back so that Rosalyn noticed the man standing behind him. “This is Grant Ferguson, he’s recently purchased the bank in town.”
The visitor removed his hat and bowed.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Grace.” He said, his words carefully formed and his voice highly cultured as any other man from the North.
“Welcome to our home, Mr. Ferguson.” She nodded her head politely, her tone clipped and formal. When would her father stop trying to marry her off to the most eligible bachelors? “Shall we move to the dining room? I believe Cora has dinner all set.”
Parts available
Jonah Wilder (OPEN) - Childhood friend who has recently returned from serving in the Confederate Army.
Grant Ferguson (OPEN) - A banker, new to town, who hails from the North East. Chosen by Rosalyn's father to be her suitor.
Freedom of the Heart
Crawford, Texas – 1851
Crawford, Texas – 1851
“Hey, that’s not fair!” A petulant, ten-year-old, Rosalyn Grace whined, her lower lip jutting out as she folded her arms over her chest. “You cheated.”
“Did not!” Exclaimed Jonah Wilder with hands on his hips. Two years Rosalyn’s senior, Jonah was not amused with having to entertain the child. But his mother had insisted that he play hide-and-seek with the child while she visited with Caroline Grace, Rosalyn’s mother.
“This is stupid.” Jonah kicked at a dirt clod and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I ain’t gonna play with no little cry baby.”
“I’m not a cry baby.” Rosalyn stuck her nose up in the air, her blonde ringlets shaking with righteous childhood anger. “And I’m telling.” Taking off as fast as her legs could carry her, Rosalyn ran from the horse barn to the two-story ranch house, bits of straw hanging to the hem of her brown, calico dress.
“Only cry babies tattle.” Jonah screamed, racing after her, clutching his felt hat to his head so it wouldn’t fall off.
Racing up the steps of the wraparound porch, Rosalyn ran to where the two women sat in rocking chairs. Burying her face in her mother’s lap, a difficult feat since Caroline was in the last weeks of her pregnancy.
“Now what’s this?” Caroline asked, a light laugh in her voice as Rosalyn tried to climb into her lap with tears in her wide, blue eyes.
“Jonah cheated. He said he would count to one hundred, but he didn’t and I didn’t have time to hide.” Rosalyn cried as her mother’s arm wrapped around her.
“Did not.” The boy in question hopped up onto the porch railing, his feet dangling and his face set in defiance.
“You two need to play nicely.” Jonah’s mother, Lily Wilder said with a frown.
“And, Rosalyn, you need to act like a big girl, especially with your little brother on the way. You’re going to need to act the lady of the house while your mother takes care of him.”
Rosalyn looked at her mother’s large stomach with disdain. She knew the baby was going to change everything. No longer would she be Momma’s favorite and Daddy would spend more time with a boy than he would with a girl. Would she still be Daddy’s princess once the baby came?
“Oh hush, Rachel.” Caroline waved a hand in dismissal. “Rosalyn has no need to act a lady until she’s older. That’s why we hired Cora, to help take care of everything after the baby comes.” She turned a bright smile to the children in front of her. “Why don’t you two play something else, something where no one can cheat.”
Hopping down from the railing, Jonah reached a hand out and swatted Rosalyn on the shoulder.
“Tag you’re it!” He cried, jumping off the porch and running across the dirt towards the pasture.
“That’s not fair.” Rosalyn screamed as she tore after him, her tears and worries quickly forgotten as her little legs pumped hard, racing after her friend.
Crawford, Texas – 1865
As the sun nestled on the horizon, Rosalyn Grace bowed low over her horse’s straining neck. The ground passed quickly beneath her as the mare raced across the pasture. Wind whipped through her blonde curls, which had long since come loose from the knot atop her head.
“C’mon, girl,” she urged the mare forward, applying pressure to the horse’s haunches. The mare leapt forward, her pace quickening to a heart-pounding gallop. Rosalyn’s tan Stetson slapped against her back, the string that held it on dug slightly into the soft flesh of her throat. The tall grass whipped against her legs as Rosalyn rode through the pasture land; cattle barely looking up from their grazing, so used to her presence, as she sped past.
Behind her, the sun had turned a brilliant red-orange as it hit the horizon, coloring the sky with fiery hues. Ahead, the outline of the ranch house came into view, lamps already in the windows.
“Thought you said you’d be back an hour ago.” Christian, Harlan Grace’s foreman, leaned against the corral railing as Rosalyn pulled her mare to a stop.
“I know, time just got away from me.” She said, jumping off the horse easily in her loose trousers. “Is Daddy back yet?” Blue eyes glanced, worriedly, towards the window of Harlan’s office. The window was dark, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sitting at his desk contemplating his day or remembering days past.
“Not yet,” he spat a wad of tobacco onto the ground, “but he’s due back any minute.”
He started walking the mare around the coral to cool her down, the stiffness in his left leg obvious with every step, the only evidence of the bullet that had nearly cost him the limb. Rosalyn propped her arms up on the railing and watched as the mare tossed her head proudly.
“I wouldn’t hang about if I were you,” Christian said, glancing over at her.
“Your daddy’s bringing company back with him.”
Cursing under her breath, Rosalyn quickly made her way into the house, calling a hello to the housekeeper, Cora, as she ran up the stairs to her bedroom.
Ten minutes later, Rosalyn emerged from her bedroom dressed in a simple tan skirt and white blouse, her bun perfectly repaired. Sitting in the living room, her father stood to greet her with tight hug. In his late forties, Harlan Grace was a formidable man. Tall and muscular, his skin deeply tanned and lined from his years in the sun, he looked every bit the cattle baron that he was. As a child, Rosalyn had been her father’s little princess, he was wrapped around her little finger and would have given her the moon had she asked. When his beloved Caroline had died in childbirth, along with their son, the bond between father and daughter had only grown.
But, since Rosalyn had grown into a woman, now close to spinsterhood as she neared her twenty-fifth birthday, Harlan had been putting more and more pressure on her to calm her wild ways and settle down with a husband.
“Darling, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Harlan said, stepping back so that Rosalyn noticed the man standing behind him. “This is Grant Ferguson, he’s recently purchased the bank in town.”
The visitor removed his hat and bowed.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Grace.” He said, his words carefully formed and his voice highly cultured as any other man from the North.
“Welcome to our home, Mr. Ferguson.” She nodded her head politely, her tone clipped and formal. When would her father stop trying to marry her off to the most eligible bachelors? “Shall we move to the dining room? I believe Cora has dinner all set.”
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