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Dorcas had never been one to follow the rules. Not really. Sure, everyone thought she was so proper, and so graceful, and so innocent and sweet. Of all those things, she was mostly just graceful. She was sweet, too, when she wanted to be. But innocent? Proper? Hmm...those two traits were not ones she was very well acquainted with.
She was the one who thought about how they were sleeping where the boys had slept — about how she was sleeping in his bed, and she knew it was his because she’d found his name carved into the post — and she was the one who wished she were going to have a baby, despite being unmarried.
But she didn’t plan to be unmarried for very long.
The thing was, there were eyes on her — and Benjamin, for that matter — all the time. Privacy had ceased to exist within the small cabin, and the snow didn’t help much. It trapped her in, and it gave away her footprints if ever she tried to sneak out to the barn. Not that there would have been any privacy there, considering all the brothers were in it.
But as time went on, and the snow grew higher, and she grew more restless, she decided that enough was enough. She was going out to that barn, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.
She bundled up, trudging through the knee-deep snow with basket in hand, leaving a tell-tale trail behind her. Sure, she could have waited until nightfall instead of making her daring journey in broad daylight, but being unfamiliar with the ghastly weather up here in the mountains, and not wanting to get lost in the blank whiteness or a nighttime blizzard, she decided now was as good a time as any.
“Dorcas!”
Ugh, it was Alice.
“Dorcas, what are you doing? Where are you going?”
Dorcas glanced over her shoulder, adjusting the basket on her arm and the scarf she had tied over her head and ears in an attempt to keep out the cold.
“I’m going hunting eggs, what does it look like?”
Alice, standing in the shelter of the porch, placed her hands reproachfully on her hips. “As if you actually expect me to believe that.”
“Believe what you want, Alice, I don’t care.” Dorcas turned back around and resumed her trudging.
Alice kept prattling on at her about propriety, the high road, punishment, and blah, blah, blah. Dorcas wanted to hear none of it. She only hoped that she would find him in the barn when she got there. If not, she’d just wait until he returned from whatever it was those boys did all day.
She reached the barn door, and tugged it open.
“Dorcas, come back to the house!” Alice called, sounding more annoyed than worried or angry. It seemed that the girls all had a competition going to see who could hide their pining the most. Dorcas was beginning to think she wasn’t very competitive after all.
Dorcas did not come back to the house. She stepped into the barn, finding it surprisingly warm compared to the outdoors, and mercifully free of snow. She shut the door behind her, stomped the snow off her boots and removed the scarf from her head, and looked around. Livestock and sacks of feed and what have you. Hay and pitchforks. No boys. No Benjamin. He was probably out working hard, and looking good doing it.
She set the basket down, crossed to the ladder leading up to the hayloft, and climbed up. In the hay that surrounded her, she could see the little nests that each brother had made, each place where he laid his head every night. She passed by each one, once and then twice, but had no idea which belonged to him. So she gave up, and opened the doors on the far side of the room.
Normally, these were opened to allow hay to be thrown down or thrown in, but now, they provided a rather lovesick girl with a great view of the mountains, and somewhere to dangle her feet while she awaited the arrival of her beau.
She didn’t remember falling asleep. All she knew was that she woke up to a commotion down below. She scooted away from the open doors, shivering a little and pulling them closed, realizing she had let an awful lot of cold air into the loft. With a sly smile to herself, she thought of a way to keep at least one of the brothers warm. Oh my, if the other girls only knew where her thoughts had been, and were at that very moment. They might had swooned. But Dorcas wasn’t the swooning type. No, she found herself quite different from the rest. Improper, perhaps, but all the happier for it.
She crept to the ladder and peered down through the square opening to the barn below.
Three of them had returned. Gideon, Caleb, and Benjamin. Oh, Benjamin. She found it strange how much more attractive he seemed to have grown since she’d first seen him. And he’d already been as pretty as a picture then. Those copper curls, broad shoulders, and bright brown eyes. Those long, long legs, and...well, Dorcas couldn’t deny that God had been kind when he’d carved those cheekbones and molded that body.
Benjamin was stripping off his large winter coat, his cheeks flushed with the cold, and grumbling to his brothers about the snow.
“You better be glad for that snow,” said Caleb, shrugging out of his own coat and shaking off the snow, “it’s the only thing keeping the townsfolk away.”
Dorcas tensed at the mention of them. True, she missed her parents and sister. What kind of an awful person would she be if she didn’t? But she also knew what her father — and about six other fathers and some jealous young men — would do once the pass opened up. She shuddered to even think of it. But it made her will to be there — in that barn, in that hayloft, waiting for Benjamin — all the stronger.
Gideon nudged Caleb. “What do you think you’re doing?” He demanded. “Me and you is supposed to be going up and helping Eph and Frank and Dan haul them logs.”
“Oh, why can’t you and Benjamin just go? I’m plum tuckered out!” Caleb protested, tossing his jacket onto a nearby hay bale.
“‘Cause my leg’s plum tuckered out, that’s why,” said Benjamin.
Huh. So his leg really had been poorly that night. And there they all were, thinking he’d just made it up to be allowed into the house. Dorcas wasn’t sure if she should feel sorry for him or be insulted that he hadn’t invented an obscene injury like the rest, just to see her.
“Fine.” Caleb conceded, rather easily. It must have been the look Benjamin was giving him, or maybe the way he was standing, favoring the ailing leg. Or maybe it was just because he actually hated the idea of sitting around with nothing to do but think all day.
They couldn’t leave fast enough, in Dorcas’s view of things.
Soon they were gone, and Benjamin approached the ladder. Dorcas backed away, stifling back a giggle as she scooted away from the opening, watching as slowly, ever so slowly, Benjamin’s head crested over the hay strewn about the loft.
“Hello, stranger,” said Dorcas, in as sultry a voice as she could muster. And in her opinion, it was very sultry.
Benjamin actually yelped, tripped on the ladder, and had to catch himself on the edge of the loft floor to keep from falling.
“Good Lord, Dorcas, what in tarnation—?!”
She shrugged, smoothing out her skirts. “I just came to see you, is all.”
“Does Millie know you’re out here?” He grumbled, pulling himself up into the loft and sitting across from her. Those brown eyes were fixed on her, and she knew he didn’t want to look away. She didn’t want to look away, either.
“No,” she answered plainly, giving him a smile, batting her eyes at him. “But Millie doesn’t have to know everything I do.”
Benjamin’s eyes widened, just a smidge. “She doesn’t?”
Dorcas shook her head, raven tresses falling over her shoulders with the movement. “And what should she have against me just wanting to see you?”
It was Benjamin’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. I ain’t exactly been...civilized.”
Ah, yes, the kidnapping. How could one forget? Well, no one forgot. But Dorcas, well, she was going stir crazy, and found herself desperately in love, and knew that she had the means to act upon those feelings, without parents’ meddling, and without the pressures of society and propriety.
She moved closer to him, and he watched her, almost warily, but with a look in his eye that said he welcomed the approach.
“You know, if you’d just asked me, I would’ve run away with you.”
He blinked. Swallowed. “You would’ve?” His voice came out a bit hoarse.
She nodded, unable to keep her eyes from drifting to his lips. “I would’ve traveled the world over with you, if you’d asked.” She looked back up into his eyes, falling into the deep brown irises, warm like honey, rich like fresh-tilled earth. “Why didn’t you just ask?”
He tore his eyes away, and there was a flush that crept up his cheeks that wasn’t because he’d been out in the cold. “I...it was Adam’s idea, and I...I was stupid enough to go along with it. Desperate enough.”
She reached out, touching his hand as it rested on the wooden planks. His skin was tan against hers, and she’d never realized how big his hands were, until they were compared to her own. It made him all the more appealing.
His eyes flashed back to her, down to her hand on his. He shifted so he could entwine his fingers with hers.
His glorious mouth shifted into a bashful little smile. “I’m sorry about all that, you know,” he said, sincere and serious, “if I could take it back....”
Dorcas brought up her other hand, gently, to his lips, hushing him. “Don’t say that. It might be kind of mixed up, the way I got here, but I’m here, and I don’t intend to waste the opportunity.”
She leaned forward, letting her eyes flutter closed. His eyes closed, too, and he sat there, frozen, waiting.
She kissed him square on the mouth. His lips were perfect, as she had assumed, and they were warm and soft, fitting seamlessly with her own as if they two had been made just especially for each other. Perhaps they had.
She’d kissed dozens of guys before. Well, maybe not dozens, but at least five, and that was five more than any of the other girls had. Benjamin made six, and the absolute best of the bunch. Never again would she want to kiss another living soul like she was kissing him now. No one could possibly compare.
His free hand moved to cradle the back of her head, his fingers threading through her long black hair. She pressed herself closer to him, running her own hand through his auburn curls.
It was like everything else fell away. The barn was gone, the snow was gone, the worries about the pass opening, or missing her family, or her family deciding to come and kill Benjamin or something — all of that was gone. She felt a fire burning inside her, like she’d never felt before. It surprised her, but she liked it. She was glad of it. It confirmed to her that this love was real, it was true, and not some passing fancy.
And though she left the barn sooner than she’d have liked, and though nothing more than kissing had taken place, she felt like a new woman. And she knew that soon, she’d have to sneak out again.
<>
There was more snow, if that was possible. But that didn’t stop Dorcas. In fact, it encouraged her. The other girls had reprimanded her for her last trip to the barn. Of course Alice had told everyone about it, and they all thought that it was ghastly and sinful and utterly improper and going against everything they were trying to teach those awful boys, to kiss Benjamin the way she had.
Of course she had told everyone about it, because how could she keep such a monumental moment to herself? Her heart was no longer her own. It hadn’t been for a while, really, but now it was gone for sure, held in the large, warm, calloused hands of one Benjamin Pontipee, the man she was going to marry.
Dorcas Pontipee. Hmm. As names went, it wasn’t so bad. Any other name would have sounded so wrong, simply because it wasn’t his.
Early one morning, she rose before the others. She knew Millie would still be asleep. The baby stole most of her energy these days. Even still, Dorcas couldn’t keep from wishing for her own baby. Patience. In the spring, maybe, once they were married. Oh, but she didn’t know if she had the patience, and not for a baby per se, but more for the act that usually resulted in a baby.
She wasn’t naive, not really. She knew about those kinds of things. From conversations she’d had with the other girls, she gathered that they knew very little, but enough to get by. She knew they would figure out what she was doing, sneaking out at first light like this. But it didn’t matter. It was her business.
Bundled up snugly, she trudged across the yard to the barn, entering as quietly as she could, and climbing the ladder to the loft. She spotted Benjamin quickly, even in the semi-darkness. He was nearest to the ladder, blessedly, so she reached out and nudged him.
He woke after about the seventh nudge, groggy and confused, hair mussed and eyes unfocused.
She beckoned him with a smile before starting back down the ladder. A few moments later, he followed.
“What is it?” He asked, running a hand through his hair, looking half-asleep still. He’d gotten dressed, but some of the buttons on his green shirt were mismatched. It was rather endearing.
“I know it’s early,” she said, taking up his free hand, “but I wanted to see you, before the others were awake.” She looked up at him, feeling suddenly timid and shy.
He gave her a smile. “If Millie finds out....”
Dorcas smiled back. “It doesn’t matter. It’ll be too late by then.”
His smile faltered. “Too late?”
She became sultry and forward again, maybe because he got shy. “I know about more than just kissing, you know.”
His eyes became as big as Millie’s dinner plates, and that flush crept up his cheeks again. “Dorcas!” He hissed, looking around as if expecting someone to hear and jump out and scold them.
She stifled a giggle. “Oh, we’re just going to get married in the spring, anyway.”
“Maybe.”
“We will, I won’t have it any other way.”
“Still,” he said, and he paused, running a hand over her hair, letting it rest on her shoulder, drift to her waist. “Still, we should wait. I don’t want to make things anymore messed up.”
That was frustrating to hear, really, because she didn’t think going further would mess things up. But deep down, she understood where he was coming from. She understood why he was rejecting her advances. And she respected those reasons.
“Kiss me, at least?”
He complied without further prompting, their lips meeting was such ease and familiarity, and a rush of heat spread through Dorcas’s body, tingling in her fingers and her toes. Kissing him was already like heaven; she could scarcely imagine what more would feel like.
<>
Spring. Glorious spring. Dorcas had never been happier for the arrival of the season. At the back of her mind, thoughts of the pass opening needled at her, but she ignored them in favor of thoughts of Benjamin. Oh, Benjamin. Now that the snow was melted, now that they weren’t cooped up indoors with everyone else, they could sneak off alone. Perhaps, she could convince him...and if not, it would be enough to be alone, at last.
They met up behind the barn, kissing more deeply than they had dared before. Everyone else was busy with the new piglets, too distracted to pay Dorcas and Benjamin any mind.
Hand in hand, they left the farmyard, traveling up into the cheerful woods, among blooming wildflowers and budding trees.
On a blanket of yellow and white flowers, they rested, holding each other rather innocently, gazing up at the bright blue sky.
“It’s been so long since the sky was clear, I’d almost forgotten how blue it is,” said Dorcas, snuggling closer against Benjamin, loving the way it felt to lay her head on his chest, to feel and hear his heartbeat.
“Mmm.” Benjamin said nothing, but he tightened his arm around her just a little, and she knew that was his way of saying he was glad to be there, under that finally-clear sky, with her.
“I worry about the pass opening.” She didn’t want to dampen the moment, but despite her best efforts, she couldn’t keep from thinking about it.
“We’ll be all right,” he said, and he almost sounded like he believed it.
She sat up, leaning on her elbow, and studied him. She loved everything about him; his face, his hands, his body, his voice. The way he spoke and thought, the way he cared and acted. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, letting her hand trace the curve of his jaw.
“I love you,” she said, without even thinking about it.
He reached up, cupping her cheek in his calloused hand, bringing her face down to his, so that he could kiss her sweet lips. He kissed her cheeks, and her nose, and her neck. He kissed her hands, the knuckles and the palms. He brought her into his arms, kissing her again and again.
She kissed him back, knowing that he was telling her he loved her, too, just without the words, because he was Benjamin Pontipee, and no amount of Millie’s etiquette lessons would make Benjamin Pontipee a big talker.
On their blanket of flowers, they held each other. Dorcas found herself unbuttoning his shirt, and he wasn’t stopping her. The rest of their clothes soon followed, leaving them exposed beneath the sun, and to anyone who might happen upon them. But it didn’t really occur to them to worry about it.
They explored each other, both experiencing this for the first time. The sun was warm, and birds sang in the trees. A fresh breeze blew across their naked skin, tousled their hair. Dorcas had imagined what this might be like, but she realized she had had no idea. It wasn’t perfect, but at the same time it was, because it was with him. And she knew it would get better with practice, just like their kissing. And oh, did she love to practice.
Returning to the house, they tried to act as if nothing had happened. They could not stop smiling, could not stop their hands from finding each other. The looks the other girls gave her told her they knew what had happened. The looks weren’t disdainful, but instead almost curious. And she caught the looks that Benjamin’s brothers gave to him, and they were rather silly, honestly. The flush remained on Benjamin’s cheeks for hours. But no one said anything. Not even when Millie pulled some grass out of Dorcas’s hair.
<>
“I still think I should’ve married you first,” Benjamin told her one day, as they lay tangled together after another ‘trip to the woods’.
Dorcas sighed against him. “I’m already your wife, in my heart. I didn’t want to have to wait until the pass opens to be married.” And besides, no one really knew what would happen once the pass opened. The Pontipee brothers could all end up dead. Dorcas tried not to think about it.
Benjamin gently rubbed her arm. “I didn’t want to, either. I’m your husband, in any way that matters. I don’t need a preacher to tell me that.”
Dorcas smiled. Yes, despite all the strangeness that had brought them together after the barn raising, she knew she was one lucky woman, to find a man like Benjamin. He wasn’t like the guys in town. He wasn’t trying to court her or woo her or marry her simply because she was pretty, or that’s what was done, or it was proper, or he needed a wife to look after him. No, he was winning her heart because she had won his. He was loving her because he loved her. Not because it was expected of him, not because he had a nosy preacher telling him to settle down. In fact, he was willing to love and cherish and care for her even without the nosy preacher.
If God was watching, she knew He could see that they were bound already, in the purest, holiest of ways. They were bound by the heart, and they were bound by the soul. Their love was strong and perfect and true, and Dorcas knew that no matter what happened when the pass opened, she was glad that things were the way they were, so that she could share and experience that love, unhindered.