Listen to the Night
Caution: This Western Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa, Consensual, Superhero, Western, Science Fiction, Incest, Brother, Sister, Polygamy/Polyamory, Interracial, Black Female, White Male, First, Violent,
Desc: Western Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Josh Huston had to grow up fast in West Texas in the 1860s. This is a sort of coming-of-age story for a boy who had to become the man of the house when his mother killed his father sort of by accident. Josh wound up building an unusual family at a relatively early age while fighting Indians, poor white trash, and carpetbaggers. He was a bounty hunter for a while and then a special consultant for the Union Army. Somehow, you wonder how he lived through it all! There are 11 chapters.
One night, Pa came home after drinking more than was good for any of us. I knew that he got kind of mean after too much to drink, and I should stay clear of him. The trouble was, I was the oldest boy home at the time, and he started in to mistreating Ma. I had to choose to stay out of his way or to get between him and Ma. I guess I was braver than I was smart, because I couldn't let him beat my ma the way he was trying to do.
Anyway, I got between them, and I got what I wanted: he took on me instead of Ma. All I wanted to do was to break up the abuse until Pa had a chance to sober up. Unfortunately, Pa was too much for me! He shoved me out of his way, and I fell backwards into the cast iron stove. Lucky for me, it was not very hot when I banged my head against the leg under the water heater tank.
Anyway, the fall and smack of my head against that stove knocked me out cold. That was when Pa made his biggest mistake. He rared back to kick me in the side; he would have broken a couple of ribs, at least, but Ma was having none of that. She picked up a 10" cast iron skillet what was setting on the stove and whopped Pa in the forehead with it to keep him from doing any more damage to me.
That was enough to knock Pa out cold, and he dropped before he could kick me. Ma left him lying there and managed to get me into bed. My sister, Mary, helped her, and they got me out of my clothes and into my bed. I never woke up until late morning the next day. Man, did I have a headache!
On top of the headache, my ears were ringing something fierce! I could hear Ma and Mary talking, even though they were whispering so they would not disturb me, but I did not have no trouble with hearing what they were saying.
They were talking about what happened to Pa. It seems that Ma hit him too hard with that skillet when she was trying to protect me. To make a long story short, Pa died during the night. Ma found him lying on the floor where he had fallen. It wasn't until she had some daylight that she could see the way Pa's head was crushed in. Strangely, the skin was not broken, but she had hit him hard enough to crush a section of his skull.
Ma was so pissed off at Pa that she didn't want a funeral. She just wanted to dig a hole and push him in. Mary was working on calming her down and convincing her to have a funeral. After all, that's what the people in Harleysville would expect, and we did have to live here. Ma was coming around and cooling down. I think Mary's best argument was that a funeral would be what Henry, my older brother, would want.
Henry would be back from the county seat late this afternoon, and he could make the arrangements in Harleysville for the funeral. The two women decided that I should skip the funeral and stay home because of my head injury. The way I felt right then, I was ready to agree with them.
Ma and Mary dragged Pa's body into their bedroom and started getting him ready for the funeral. I could still hear them talking in the other room, but I managed to go back to sleep, anyway.
Henry showed up about mid afternoon and Mary explained to him what had happened. He knew as well as the rest of us how strong drink affected Pa, so he did not blame either me or Ma for Pa's death. Henry grabbed a bite to eat and rode into town to make the necessary funeral arrangements. The time was in early June, so we did not have to get him planted in the ground quite in such a rush as would have been necessary in the heat of summer. Tomorrow afternoon would be soon enough, and that gave everybody time to get ready.
As for me, I was glad to lie in the bed and skip chores for a day. My head hurt so damned bad that I had even downed a little bit of laudanum to try to dampen the pain. I couldn't get that damned noise out of my ears, and I was kind of dizzy when I stood up. Ma insisted that I needed the bed rest, and I was not foolish enough to argue with her.
Henry showed up from town in time for supper. He was all excited, but not about the funeral. He had taken care of those arrangements and the funeral was scheduled for 3:00 PM tomorrow. No, Henry was all excited about the news that the war with the Yankees had started. Henry was a lieutenant in the local militia, and we already knew that Texas had joined the Confederacy, so he figured to be called up to fight in the next month or so.
I wanted to go with him, but Henry insisted that I had to stay behind to look after the homestead. I would be the only man on the property, and it was important that a man be there to defend the place if the Comanches started acting up again. Well, I couldn't argue with that because we all knew how little it took to put the Comanches in a fighting mood.
Later that night, I was a little pissed off when I heard Henry tell Ma that he wanted me to stay behind because I was too young for Army life. Hell, what he really meant was that I was old enough to fight Comanches but too young to fight Yankees. Dammit, I was nearly 15 years old, and old enough to do man's work, so I figured that I was old enough to be a soldier! I would have sneaked off and joined the Army anyway if I had not realized that the women were going to need protection when the Comanches attacked.
Anybody with any sense would have realized that the Comanches were going to try to take advantage of the men leaving for war. Them double-damned Comanches would grab any chance they could to kill off White folks.
The big problem I had was a shortage of good weapons. I had the Mississippi rifle that Pa had used in the Mexican war, but it was a muzzle loader and took too long to load if there was more than one or two Comanches for me to shoot at. We did have a couple of Navy Colts in .36 caliber, but they did not have the stopping power that I would really need in a fight with Indians. There was no way around it; I needed a repeating rifle and at least one .44 caliber revolver.
I talked to Henry about that weapons problem, and he agreed with me. He said he would see what he could find at the gunsmith's shop when he went into town for the funeral. I knew I could depend on Henry to look after my interests, so I worried no more about it.
Man, I was in worse shape than I realized! I tried to help load Pa's body into the wagon for the trip to the funeral, but I could hardly stand up. Ma ordered me back to bed, and I didn't argue with her. Shit! I must have banged my head harder than I knew at first.
When the family returned from the funeral, Henry came in with a new Henry repeating rifle and two Starr DA (double-action) Army revolvers in .44 caliber. I already had a bowie knife and an Arkansas frog sticker. I also had a very good quality tomahawk and war club, so I was armed as well as a man could hope to be in this day and age. Henry had brought plenty of ammunition so that I was able to practice with my new rifle and revolvers. I got real damned good with all of them in a short time, so I was ready for any Comanche foolish enough to attack our house.
It was another month before Henry was called up to serve in the Army. Naturally, he was in the cavalry, and his unit was sent off to become a part of the Army of Northern Virginia under Gen. Robert E. Lee. That left me with a lot of responsibility, but Ma promised to be as helpful as she could. To be honest about it, Ma gave me a list of "suggestions" at breakfast of things that needed to be done. I did those things first and anything else that I found what needed to be done as much as I could before supper.
We coasted along for about four months without nothing special happening, because it took that long for the Comanches to realize that over half of the White fighting men of Texas were now somewhere else. The piddling little raids started about that time. Mostly, it was just three or four young braves out for a good time and to show each other how brave they were. Unfortunately, people on both sides did get killed as a result of this nonsense.
We were ready, so, when the first raid came to our place, we were not caught by total surprise. Our house was made of adobe, so we did not have to worry much about fire. The sod roof was almost, but not quite, flat, and what little rain we had was enough to keep the grass up there green and not likely to burn. I made sure of it by sprinkling it with water from our well at least once a week. We depended on our adobe walls and sod roof to protect us from any fire the Comanches would try to start.
As it happened, when the four Comanche raiders showed up, Ma and Mary were in the kitchen working on dinner, and I was working in the barn. This change in my hearing finally did me some good because I heard the sound of the running horses while they were still several hundred yards away. I ran to the house and barred the front door. I told Ma and Mary that the Comanches were coming, and they better get ready to fight.
We slammed all the shutters closed and barred them. At this stage, the Comanches did not use rifles, though they did have a few muskets that they had stolen from the Mexicans. Usually, the Comanches disdained the use of firearms in preference to arrows and the lance. They also had war clubs, and they were deadly with them if they ever got close enough.
We had a total of 14 muskets and the Mississippi rifle that we could use if we had to, but I thought that the Henry rifle and my two revolvers would be adequate against just four Comanches. I had insisted that Ma practice with the Henry, and she got good enough with it to get by. I gave Ma the Henry and gave her the duty of defending the back of the house. I kept the two .44 caliber revolvers and took on the duty of defending the front of the house. We did not have enough people to cover the two ends of the house, so we had to trust to luck there.
Mary had the job of reloading for us. I had two extra cylinders for my revolvers, so I was not quite in the bind that Ma was with only the one Henry rifle. My plan was for Mary to reload the Henry rifle while Ma used the muskets and the Mississippi rifle. As soon as the Henry rifle was reloaded, which took about 30 to 45 seconds if the barrel was not too hot, Ma was to switch back to the Henry while Mary reloaded the muskets that had been fired.
My revolvers were reloaded by swapping cylinders, and that took only 10 to 15 seconds. Mary was to reload my empty cylinders in her "spare time." I had a total of 24 shots from my revolvers when you counted the spare cylinders, so I did not expect to run out of bullets with only four Indians to contend with.
I was adamant when I told Ma to shoot at the horses, not at the men. I figured that the larger target of the horse would make it easier for her to score a useful hit than if she shot at an Indian. Besides, most of the time if a man fell from a running horse, he was going to wind up with a serious injury that would put him out of action long enough for us to win this battle.
The battle started with the usual whooping and hollering from the Indians as they rode at full speed around the house. They were not going to do any damage as long as they kept that up, so we let them carry on as much as they wanted to. I don't know whether it was sheer boredom or the boys had felt that they had made their point, but they finally changed their focus to a direct attack.
The Indians slowed their horses enough so that the animals would stay under control while the brave devoted his attention to shooting an arrow at us. He had a damned small target, because we were shooting through 6" square loopholes in the shutters. Of course, to us the loopholes seemed to be dangerously large, but that was only because we were standing so close to them. Every once in a while, an arrow would come through a loophole, but we could see the Indian preparing to shoot, so we had plenty of time to duck.
Ma and I both tried to aim before we shot, so we were not wasting a lot of ammunition. Also, the horses were close enough now to make excellent targets, and they were easy to hit. Ma and I each accounted for two of the Indians, so you might say that we fought to a draw!
The fight lasted only about 5 minutes, but it seemed like more than an hour. The house had enough powder smoke in it to make seeing difficult, but we had not started coughing yet, so we got off easy. The three arrows that had come through the loopholes had not caused any damage to speak of, so Mary picked them up and dropped them on the kitchen table.
Once I was sure that the battle was over, I asked Mary to open the shutters and air out the house. Meanwhile, Ma and I went outside to assess the damage and to see if there was any loot worth taking from the Indians. All four horses were dead, and I did have to cut the throat of one of the Indians, but we found nothing of value to us.
Mary changed into her working clothes of a man's shirt and pants and boots to help me drag the horses and dead Comanches away from the house. We dropped them into a shallow arroyo and figured that the scavengers would take care of the rest of the job. The carcasses were far enough away from the house so that we would not be bothered by the smell, so we figured that was all we needed to do to clean up the battlefield.
We figured that we had demonstrated to ourselves that we could handle a small Indian attack. On the other hand, a large number of attackers might well overcome us unless we had a better defense. I thought about the problem for a while before I came up with a possible solution. The Comanches hated like hell to fight on foot. Quite often, they would skip a fight if it could not be done from horseback.
That's when it occurred to me to put up a fence of barb wire around the house beyond the range of an accurate arrow shot. That should force the Comanches to make a decision: either they would bypass us or else they would dismount to fight. I figured the chances were they would bypass us, if those were their only options.
I also figured on trying to get a Henry rifle for Mary to use. Two guns were just not enough to give us reliable protection. On top of that, I wanted more replacement cylinders for my revolvers. Stuck out here all by ourselves like we were, we needed all the protection we could get. It would have been nice if we also had more people to defend the house, but I did not have an immediate solution for that part of the problem.
I was going to have to take the wagon into town to haul back the barb wire for my fence. I figured we might as well make this our semiannual trip into town for supplies, and I asked Ma and Mary to go along with me to take care of that part of the job. Either one of the two women had to go because they would know better than I what food staples to get and other such things that we might need.
I knew that it was too dangerous to leave either one at home by herself, so we all had to go. We expected that this trip would take only one day, but it would take the whole day. We started out with Mary driving and Ma riding beside her and armed with the Henry rifle. They both had a Navy Colt as a backup weapon. I rode my horse and wore my two revolvers at my waist in the cross draw mode as was common in the cavalry. I also had my two extra revolver cylinders in a pouch at my side.
We had gotten about halfway to town when I heard some gunshots. Neither of the two women could yet hear the guns being fired, and I wondered at that, though I did not worry about it at the moment. I told the women what I heard and warned them to hang back as I rode ahead to investigate what was going on.