...all MSR all the time..
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Chapter 7
As we stood watching the wagon approach, I could see the emotions I was feeling mirrored on the driver's face; shock, confusion and amazement.
"What in tarnation happened to you folks?" It was the first English Mulder and I had heard in over a week. "Excuse my boldness," he apologized quickly. "I just never did see white folks dressed this way before."
"That's all right, sir," Mulder answered quickly. "My wife and I were on our way to Madison when we were waylaid--they stole our horses, our wagon and left us in the woods. If we hadn't been found by Indians, I don't like to think what might have become of us."
I was amazed Mulder could fabricate a story so quickly. But then again, he had believed for a while now that we were in the past, so perhaps he'd been giving it some thought.
"What's this country coming to, I'd like to know, when God-fearing people have to endure things like this? It's a darn shame!" He shook his head. "Excuse my language, ma'am," he apologized again without looking at me. "My name is Ebenezer Peck, but folks call me Eben." He extended his hand to Mulder.
"Fox Mulder." Mulder shook Mr. Peck's hand firmly. "And this is my wife, Dana."
"Fox, that's an unusual name," Mr. Peck commented.
"It was my mother's maiden name," Mulder told him.
"Ah," Mr. Pecked nodded. "Well, I look forward to being more properly introduced when we can find you some clothes, Mrs. Mulder. It's appalling the way these Indians dress." He looked everywhere but at me.
"They *did* save our lives," Mulder pointed out.
"I have heard tell that there are *some* good Indians." Mr. Peck's tone was harsh.
I had to bite my lip to keep from saying something I'd regret. Getting into a debate about early American policies regarding Native Americans wouldn't serve any purpose right now.
"If you folks don't mind riding in the hay, I can take you to the town site. I run a boarding house there with my wife, Rosaline. We got a Congregationalist preacher staying with us right now and I know for a fact that he's brought some clothes with him. Of course, they were intended for the naked Indians, but you folks are needing them more." Mr. Peck raised his voice as Mulder and I walked to the back of the hay-wagon. After Mulder helped me up and then climbed up into the hay with me, he told Mr. Peck that we were all set.
"So where do you folks hail from?" Mr. Peck inquired after he chirruped to the horses.
"Chicago," Mulder lied.
"And what brings you to the frontier?"
"Looking to get a fresh start," Mulder told him, shrugging his shoulders at me as he spoke.
"Well, then you've come to the right place. Madison might just be the territorial capital right now, but Wisconsin'll be a state soon, sure-as-shootin'," Peck gloated. "That's why the missus and me pulled up stakes and left Blue Mounds to settle here. You can't just sit around waiting for your fortune to find you, you got to go out and hunt it down for your own self."
"You won't get any argument from me," Mulder chuckled.
"It's just a shame that spunky folks like you should get your dreams dashed by horse thieves and no-account scoundrels. There ain't even any law here to speak of. The outlaws always manage to get to a place first."
"Even if the law was here, there is so much wilderness, how could they protect it all?" Mulder spoke up.
"That's something," Peck agreed. "But you folks needn't worry. I know for a fact that they are short of men for building the capital, not to mention the new hotel that's going up on King Street. And Mrs. Peck sure could use another pair of hands to help with the chores. We got forty men staying with us. Why, I caught her sizing me up for an apron, just the other day."
Mulder and I had to laugh. Eben Peck seemed nice enough, even though I didn't like the way he talked about Indians. I would have to take the good with the bad. As the innkeeper continued to chat, the realization that Mulder was right finally began to sink in. We *were* in the past; Wisconsin wasn't even a state yet. For the first time since we'd woken up in the woods, I was truly terrified. Questions were swirling around in my mind; were we trapped here? How would we cope? Would anyone realize what had happened to us? Tears sprang to my eyes as I thought about my mother.
"It's okay, Scully. We'll be okay." I heard Mulder whisper. I looked up to find him studying my face, his brow furrowed in concern.
I opened my mouth to speak, but all I could do was draw a shaky breath. Mulder reached out and cradled my face with his hand. "As long as we have each other, we'll be all right." Then he pressed his lips to my forehead and that simple action was enough to calm me down.
I was still clinging to Mulder, breathing in his familiar scent to relax myself, when the sound of the horse's hooves grew much louder. Scrambling through the hay to the side of the wagon, I discovered we were crossing a wooden bridge. A river flowed beneath us, and the lake that was its source spread out before my eyes.
"This here is Sherman Avenue," Mr. Peck informed us.
In the distance, I could see some low buildings huddled together. From their midst rose the wooden skeleton of a much larger building; the capital building I assumed. Beside us was nothing but grass, stumps, and mud. Surveyor's stakes dotted the landscape; the town site seemed to have been laid out already. As we turned onto each new street, Mr. Peck would announce its name. "This is Canal Street," and "This here is Butler Street, where me and the missus built our boarding house."
I'm not sure what I expected, but I was surprised to find Mr. Peck's establishment was built out of logs. As he pulled the wagon around to the back of the building, I began to hear the ringing of hammers and the rasping of saws. The smell of manure had begun almost as soon as we'd crossed the first bridge at Sherman Avenue and kept getting stronger. Here by the stable the stench was extremely pungent. I realized what the culprit was when I saw a large pile of dirty hay and manure to the right of the barn. Mulder chuckled when I wrinkled my nose.
"Now you folks wait here. I'm going to make sure there aren't any men lingering after their dinner break. Most of these men ain't seen any women but Rosaline in almost two months. So I think it would pretty near start a riot if I was to parade a naked woman in front of them," Mr. Peck explained as he climbed down from his perch.
"You hussy!" Mulder smirked at me when we were alone.
"Shut up, Mulder." I swatted at him. I could feel my face was flaming; I was mortified that I was causing such a commotion.
Barely a minute had passed since the innkeeper disappeared inside before a short plump woman came hurrying out.
"Oh my land!" she gasped. "You poor thing. Let's get you inside. And you," she turned to Mulder. "Stay here and help Eben with this hay and then I'll find some clothes for you, too. Why it's a disgrace to snakes what happens to decent folks when there's no law around."
"Yes, ma'am," Mulder nodded solemnly.
"I'm Rosaline," Mrs. Peck informed me as she led me by the hand into the dark building. "It's a good thing that Reverend Foster brought that missionary barrel with him. The closest dry goods store is in Milwaukee. I suppose we could've altered some of my clothes, but you're such a wisp of a thing."
After leading me up a narrow staircase, she opened a door at its head. This room was brighter; lit by two small windows filled with wavy glass.
"What happened to your hair? Did you have a fever?" She looked at me with concern in her eyes.
"Oh, yes," I stammered, hoping it was the right answer.
"Oh, well, it'll grow back in time; at least you got better," she consoled me. "How long has it been, a year or two?"
I just nodded; I hated lying, but we didn't have much choice. Mulder was much better at it than I was.
"Maybe we could pin it up." Mrs. Peck misinterpreted my expression.
"Thank you," I smiled.
"Now, I'll just go and fetch that barrel. I'm sure we'll find something passable, and next time Eben goes to Milwaukee, we'll get him to pick up some calico and muslin. Then we can sew you up some things of your own."
"Thank you, Rosaline," I smiled. "I don't know what I'll be able to do to repay you."
"Well, I am looking for some help around here. You're tiny, but you look good and strong. If you're willing to work, there's plenty to be had." With that she stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her.
While I waited for her, I looked around the room. The furniture was sparse; a bed, two small dressers, a chair and a wash stand. Wooden hooks on the wall held spare dresses and coats. I was trying to see out of the blurry window when I heard Mrs. Peck's voice in the hall.
"I'll take it from here, Reverend."
Then the door swung open to reveal Rosaline struggling with a barrel. I hurried to help her with it. Soon we had the lid of the barrel off and she began pulling out clothes. I was amazed at the number of garments that had been stuffed inside. Rosaline sorted through it quickly, making three piles; one for me, one for Mulder and the last to go back into the barrel.
We found two dresses she thought should fit me and a stack of underthings big enough to sink a ship.
"We were lucky to find two of everything," she smiled as she inspected what looked like a slip. "You can tell rich folks donated these, all lace and silk and hardly worn. Some of these shifts are finer than my best dress." She shook her head and laughed.
At the bottom of the barrel we found four pair of shoes. The smallest pair was a little too big, but I'd be able to manage.
"We can't have you walking around in those," she nodded toward my moccasins. "I'm sure the Reverend would faint dead away if he caught sight of your ankle. Even poor Eben was beside himself, and we've been married these 27 years."
"I'm sorry." I hung my head. It had never occurred to me that my appearance would be so shocking. It was a good thing Eben Peck had stumbled across us. We might not have faired so well with someone else.
"There, there, dear," she murmured soothingly. "It's hardly your doing. Let me see if the Reverend has moved out of his room, then you can get yourself dressed."
"I don't want to put the Reverend out of his bed," I protested.
"What would you have me do?" Mrs. Peck stood with her hands on her hips. "Put you on a pallet on the floor with the men?"
"I guess not," I muttered.
"The Reverend didn't even raise an eyebrow and maybe he'll have a calming influence on those ruffians."
Just before we left the room, Rosaline reached into the top drawer of one of the dressers and pulled out a handful of rags and some strips of cotton and put them on the top of the pile I was carrying.
"Here's some muslin to use as dress shields and I suppose you'll be needing these rags when it's your time."
"Of course," I nodded as I followed her into the hall. I hadn't thought about my period at all. Thinking back, I realized my last one had been a week and a half before Mulder and I left for Madison. That meant I was due in less than a week. I was thankful that Mrs. Peck had thought to give me supplies; I would have had a difficult time asking.
In no time, with Rosaline's help, Mulder and my new apparel had been moved to a smaller room down the hall. Then I was left to my own devices to get dressed. From listening as Rosaline unpacked, I thought I'd figured out how everything went.
Once I'd slipped out of my deerskin dress, I laid it on the bed. Then I pulled on the stockings, but since I didn't have any garters, Rosaline said the cuffs of my drawers would do to hold them up. After the drawers, I eased into the chemise; the cotton felt cool against my skin. I was eyeing the corset warily when I heard a soft knock at the door.
"Who is it?" I called.
"Me." Mulder's voice answered.
"Come in, Mulder. Maybe you can help me," I sighed.
He grinned broadly when he saw me. "Very sexy, Scully." He waggled his eyebrows at me.
"Right," I chuckled as I slid my arms into the corset.
"You think I'm kidding?" His voice was low and mellow. "There is something decidedly naughty about seeing you in the underwear that is supposed to hide your body from prying eyes."
Except for my arms, I was completely swathed in cotton, but Mulder's words made me feel like I was dressed in risque lingerie.
"I wanted you to help me into this stuff, not out of it." I didn't try to suppress my grin.
Still dressed in his breeches and vest, he walked behind me. His chest was shining with sweat from the work he'd been doing. He smelled like leather and hay and testosterone. I knew he couldn't really smell like a hormone, but whatever his scent was, it smelled good to me. As he picked up the laces of my corset and began to tighten them, I felt his breath on my ear.
"I am planning on helping you out of them later." His whisper made me shiver in anticipation and I could only nod in response.
When he'd finished tightening my corset he gave me a pat on the ass. "All done," he smiled when I looked over my shoulder at him.
Then he moved to the bed and lay down to watch me as I finished dressing. First I slipped on a shift and then I pulled on each of the three petticoats. Finally I struggled into the dress, but I needed Mulder's help to button it. While Mulder changed into the pants and shirt he'd been given, I fought with my shoes. Mrs. Peck had given me a buttonhook to do them up with, but it took me a while to get the hang of it.
Mulder was waiting for me when I was done. He grinned at me again as I straightened my skirt.
"You even make that look sexy, Scully."
I looked down at the navy cotton dress with tiny yellow flowers scattered all over it and then back up at him. "I think you're a little bit biased," I smiled as I headed to the door. My skirt and petticoats swished as I walked.
"If you say so," he shrugged, a sly grin still evident on his face.
We found Mrs. Peck in the kitchen, cutting vegetables.
"How are you at making stew, Mrs. Mulder?" She asked when she saw me.
"I've never made so much at one time, but I think I can handle it," I smiled. "And call me Dana, please."
"Well then, Dana, you take over here and I'll make up the corn bread."
The meat was already browning in a large pot and Rosaline had potatoes and carrots waiting to be peeled and diced; she had already started on the onions.
"Here is an apron, you don't want to get your dress soiled." She handed me a large bib apron.
"Is Mr. Peck still at the stable?" Mulder asked from the doorway.
"He is, and he'd likely appreciate some help, if you're offering," Rosaline nodded.
"That I am," Mulder smiled and then disappeared into the hallway.
While we worked, Rosaline kept talking. I got the impression it had been a while since she'd had a woman's company.
"Did you think about what I said earlier, about helping out around here?"
"I did, and if you still want me, I really need the work." I blinked back the stinging tears the onions had brought to my eyes.
"I will offer you and your husband bed and board in exchange for your work, Dana," she continued briskly. "The work is hard, but with the two of us, we might get a minute's rest now and again. And if you could help with the chickens and the garden, that would free Eben up to do other chores. The roof on the stable needs to be patched and we'll need more stalls come winter. The cows are all right outside for now, but the nights will be getting cold soon enough."
I kept nodding as I worked trying to take in everything she was saying. Breakfast was served at 6 a.m., so we had to be up at 5 to collect the eggs. Dinner was served at 12 o'clock and supper at six. After the supper dishes were washed, my workday was done. In between meals we had other chores to do; Mondays we did laundry, Tuesday we ironed, Wednesday we did the mending, Thursday we scrubbed the floors, and Friday and Saturday were filled by all of the other chores we didn't have time for the rest of the week. Sunday was the only day we didn't have to do anything but cook and wash the dishes. My head was spinning thinking about all of the work.
"Since you are working for your bed and board, your husband will be able to save what he makes. When the building boom is over, you'll have yourselves a nice little nest egg." Rosaline smiled brightly at me. "And you can make some cash money of your own, if you like. The men always have mending and darning that needs to be done and I can't keep up with it. I charge extra for it, so if you want to take some of it off of my hands, you could make a little money that way."
"I thought you said we did mending on Wednesdays?" I was confused.
"That's just the sheets, dear," she clarified. "I charge extra to do their wash too, but I insist on it. The men aren't allowed to stay here unless they bathe once a week and get their clothes washed as often. It frightens me to think what they would be like if there weren't any women-folk around," she shuddered.
While the stew was simmering and the corn bread baking, Mrs. Peck tried to pin up my hair, but it wouldn't stay. She settled for tying it back with a ribbon. Then we began to set two long tables in the dining hall. Forty men would be eating here.
"We'll fill up large bowls and put out plates of bread. That way they can serve themselves. Of course, there's always someone complaining that they don't get their share," she shrugged.
"I don't want to speak out of turn, and while I know nothing about running an establishment like this, would you mind if I made a suggestion?" It was the most I'd said all afternoon.
"Of course not, dear. Sometimes it takes a fresh eye to see a better way of doing things," she replied sincerely.
So I described the way a soup kitchen was set up, with the men filing past and us filling their plates.
"That way no one could take more than their share and we'd save on washing the extra bowls and plates," I explained.
"That *is* a good idea, Dana. Why didn't I think of it?"
"You were probably too busy to stop and think," I offered.
"Probably," she agreed. "We'll start tonight. I'll get Eben to move one of the worktables in here from the kitchen. Tomorrow we won't even set the tables; the men can just pick up their plates and spoons off the serving table."
Mr. Peck did as his wife asked and when the men came in looking for their supper, he had to yell the instructions to be heard over the clamber. There was some grumbling at first, but they all complied; they had little choice.
Mulder stood off to the side and watched us. My presence was obviously a surprise and a murmur ran through the line of men.
"This here is Mrs. Mulder," Eben raised his voice. "And this is her husband." Mulder nodded to the men. "I trust that you will all mind your manners, or you'll have me and Mr. Mulder to answer to."
After a murmur of agreement rose up, the line of men fell quiet again. As they filed past, Rosaline filled their plates with stew and I handed them a slice of corn bread. There was enough stew for all those who wanted it to have seconds, and plenty of corn bread as well. The men were finished in half an hour and Mr. Peck said it was the quietest meal he could remember. The four of us ate our food quickly and then Mrs. Peck and I washed the dishes. Before I went upstairs, I asked Mrs. Peck if she would please wake me up in the morning; I doubted I'd get up that early on my own.
When I got to our room, Mulder had taken off his shirt and his suspenders were hanging at his sides. He was putting our clothes into the small dresser and our packs were sitting on the bed. As I helped him unpack, sort and put things away, we discussed our situation in low voices.
"I wish I knew how he did it." I referred to Dr. Mettler, shaking my head.
"We'll never know, Scully." Mulder's voice was quiet but firm.
"You don't think we'll ever get back?" My voice wavered.
"I don't see how we would. Even if Mettler has figured out how to bring people back, he wouldn't bring us back. We would be the final nail in his coffin."
I knew it was true, but I hadn't wanted to think about it. Even if anyone figured out what had happened to us, how would they be able to track us down in all of history? I sat down on the bed with a sigh.
"I know it's rough right now, Scully, but I've been thinking. Once more people start settling here, I could get a job as a teacher; it's a respectable salary. If we make enough money now, we might even be able to afford a house of our own. According to Eben, property around here is still pretty cheap. I don't want you to have to slave here for these men.." He sat down on the bed beside me.
"You're right, Mulder. We'll be fine, but when I think about how hard I fought to claw my way through the ranks of old boys--not only at the bureau, but at Med school too, and now look where I find myself." I shook my head again.
"Maybe you could start championing the women's rights movement now," he grinned.
"I don't think we should screw around with history, Mulder. You never know what might happen," I pointed out. "But I could work as a midwife. That's a perfectly acceptable job for a woman in this day and age."
"That *is* a good idea, Scully. You would probably be reimbursed in food, but that would save us money. Maybe we'd even be able to afford to get someone in to help with the housework."
"Slow down, Mulder," I laughed. "One step at a time."
"Can I help it if I want the best for you?" he chuckled and then pulled me onto his lap. He lowered his lips to my neck and kissed me gently.
"Hey!" I laughed. "You smell pretty."
"There was some soap on the wash stand," he shrugged.
"I probably reek." I wrinkled my nose.
"You smell like stew and corn bread." His voice was muffled by my hair.
"Great," I laughed ruefully.
"That's not a bad thing." I felt his fingers on the buttons of my dress. "Remember I said I wanted to help you out of this stuff?"
"Mmm hmm." I snuggled against him.
"Well, I changed my mind."
"You did?" My head jerked up in surprise.
"Yeah," he grinned broadly at me. "I want to just lie here and watch you undress."
"I see." I slid off of his lap and turned to look at him. "You want me to strip for you," I lowered my voice.
"Please." His voice was barely audible.
"Well, since you asked so nicely..." I began to ease my arms out of my sleeves.
Mulder's eyes burned into me as I slipped out of the dress. As he watched, I carefully hung it on a wooden hook on the wall. Then I stepped out of each petticoat, folded and laid them on a chair, one by one. I pulled the shift slowly over my head and added it to the pile on the chair. Then I reached around and started to undo my corset.
"Leave it on." Mulder's smoky voice startled me.
I said nothing; instead I bent over and unbuttoned my shoes. When they were off, I slipped off my drawers and then each of my stockings. Finally I was standing before him in nothing but my corset and chemise.
"Come here," he beckoned me softly. As I walked slowly toward him, he sat up, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and held out his hand to me. When I took it, he pulled me closer, forcing me to straddle his legs.
I felt his hands close over my ass and he lifted me off of the floor. I was mesmerized by the passion I saw in his eyes. I had dreamt that Mulder might feel this intensely about me, but I never thought I'd actually see it. The evidence of his raw emotion made my heart beat wildly; my labored breathing accentuated by the tight-fitting corset.
As his lips closed around mine, my eyes fluttered closed. While our tongues danced, I could feel that we were moving. Opening my eyes revealed that Mulder was now sitting against the headboard. I readjusted so I was kneeling over him, without leaving his mouth.
I dropped my hand to his pants, but I couldn't find a fly. Mulder reached down to help me and in no time he had shimmied out of his confines. This time our lips had parted, but Mulder grabbed my head and pulled me into another deep kiss. I didn't remain still; I raised up on my knees so I could lower myself onto him. As I did his hands drifted back to my ass and I moved mine to his shoulders.
I was surprised to feel him pull out of our kiss. When he was away longer than he needed for a breath, I opened my eyes to look at him, and found his eyes focused on where we were joined. I couldn't resist swiveling my hips as I took him in completely; my action making his eyelids flutter.
As I eased up slowly, I watched his face as he watched us. When I sank onto him again, his lips parted slightly and his nostrils flared. I kept my pace slow but steady, savoring the way his cock felt as it slid in and out of me. On every stroke my clit grazed against him. Soon I was throbbing and aching for release. He lifted his eyes to meet mine and their dark intensity made me groan.
"Do you want to come now?" he breathed.
"Yes," I panted.
"Good. I want to watch you." His lust-filled voice alone almost sent me flying over the edge.
Then I felt his hands move to my waist and he began to move me a little faster. Every time our bodies met, I felt my clit surge. When I couldn't wait any longer, I pressed myself to him and my clit pulsed against him as my orgasm flooded through me. When I dragged my eyes open again, his eyes were still blazing.
"So amazing!" he whispered before he captured my lips again. As we kissed, I could feel that he was still hard inside of me, so I began to move again. Mulder pulled out of the kiss, shaking his head.
"Get on your knees." His voice was soft and low. I wondered immediately if he had discovered that when it came to sex, I liked to be told what to do. That was why I had always chosen older, confident men.
I got to my hands and knees quickly, watching him over my shoulder. He was behind me in an instant. He eased into me slowly, and the sensation of his hard cock inside of me again caused my eyes to roll back in my head. His first full stroke was slow, but when I sighed and moved with him, he began to thrust faster. His hands tightened around my waist and I felt him shudder as he slammed into me.
"Scully," he whispered hoarsely just as I felt him pulsing inside of me.
We collapsed to the bed, panting. The room had grown dark while we were making love and I knew I wouldn't be able to stay awake much longer. As if reading my mind, Mulder rolled us to one side of the bed and pulled the blankets down. I crawled in still wearing my corset, but I didn't care, I was exhausted. Mulder spooned up to me and pulled the covers over us.
"Love you." His warm breath tickled my ear.
"I love you, Mulder," I told him softly and as sleep overtook me, I knew he was right. As long as we had each other, we would be able to handle whatever came our way.
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