Abelline walked up to the pasture fence of a well-known farm in her little town. The year was 1815, so she had donned a dress and frocks and little leather buckled half-boots, very ideal for walking around a dusty town. She always hoped to catch a glance of Marianne, at whose sight her heart would beat fast. Abelline had not even been this attracted to a man, the butterflies in her stomach jumped alive at Marianne’s sight or presence
Marianne was the daughter of the man who owned this farm, and she was often out riding her horse. She did not wear dresses and had the confidence of a leader, a fire in her eyes. She did not have much of the character of a lady, but all the gentleness of one; maybe that’s why Abelline was so attracted to her, and she looked mighty fine in horse-rider’s attire.
Currently, she trotted her horse close to the fence and halted near Abelline, who felt her cheeks go hot.
“Have you ever ridden, miss?” Marianne asked. And when the answer was no, “Would you like a ride?”
“Yes, very much.”
Abelline held Marianne’s outstretched hand and climbed atop the fence to mount the horse behind her.
“Your hands are very soft.” She managed.
Marianne smiled and said, “Hold onto me.”
“That’s easy enough to do.” Abelline whispered, fireworks going off in her midsection.
Marianne rode them through the trees outside the pen, to a cool running stream. She unsaddled and then held her hand out for Abelline.
“Would you like an apple?” She asked after Abelline had settled under the shade of a tree.
“Yes, please.” was the reply, so she took two apples out of her saddle-sack and tossed one to her.
Abelline couldn’t help sneaking glances while Marianne looked out over the small stream to watch the eagles. The stream was pretty and sparkling and made trickling sounds as the water trekked by over pretty pebbles and stones.
“Have you ever had a girl like you?” Abelline finally asked.
“Yes. Once.” Marianne responded, looking at her, “But she moved away and said I might never see her again. Before she left, though, she told me, ‘in case I never make it back here on my travels, I love you.’ and then she kissed me and rode off into the forest. We were together for a short while before then.”
“How long ago was that?” Abelline was curious.
“Two and a half years.”
“Oh.” She said and then tried to pry a tiny piece of apple peel out from between her teeth with her tongue. Knowing Marianne was looking at her, she exclaimed, “I’ve got an apple peel stuck in my teeth!” she laughed, “I can’t get it out!”
“I’ll not be of much help, I’ve got short fingernails.” Marianne said, watching her, and then asked what question she knew Abelline was waiting for, “Have you ever had a girl like you?”
“No, but there’s one I wish did.” and she looked at Marianne.
“Girls are wonderful.” Marianne smiles playfully.
“I’d like to know how wonderful girls are.” Abelline said, still looking at her.
Marianne walked over, saying,
“And have you ever kissed a girl?” Each of her knees straddled either side of Abelline’s lap, her face inches from hers.
“No, but I think I’d like to.” Her breath was heavy.
Marianne leaned forward and kissed her. Abelline couldn’t help a moan at the magic and trembling and heat and awe it caused within her. Marianne smiled, knowing the wonder of the first time you kiss a girl. “I want to show you something.” she said, a light in her eyes.
They mounted the horse again, Marianne helped Abelline up first, before hopping effortlessly on and turning her horse about and trotting them through more of the light forest to a small field of perfectly green grass.
“This is the softest patch in the town. Arin showed it to me when she was here. It’s wonderfully soft on skin.” She paused. “Feel it.”
Abelline dismounted and Marianne watched her as she brushed her hand over the tops of the grass.
“It’s like a bed sheet!”
“It is.” Marianne took joy in the look of wonder and sparks in Abelline’s eyes, as if seeing a fawn take its first steps.
They shared a wonderful love on that small patch in that tiny forest skirting that tiny town. And, after that, they shared a long and happy life together, raised five children, and passed away as happy as any woman ever could be. After all, women are wonderful. And very mighty fine.
Popp!nTalk 