Among the Mountains, Ch 3

By Kim

Gillian Snow shut the bedroom door and locked it and put the piece of paper on the dresser. She was a stunning woman whose passion and hatred was a raging fire against the cold beauty of her face and feminine body. The winter rain thudded heavily against the windows. Isabelle rose from the bed and the two women were standing in the middle of the room. Isabelle’s dark brown hair hung down around her beautiful face onto her shoulders, touching the swell of her chest coming up out of the black and white dress she wore. The tight dress clung to her curvaceous body, the white of the sides bending as they ran from her thighs to her arms and the tips of her breasts and then the sheer black fabric covering her arms. She kicked off her shoes as she stared at the blonde. Gillian also wore a short tight dress that revealed every bit of her equally buxom body. Hers was a white with a tint of blue and the deep cut put her cleavage on proud display. Her hair was folded atop her head like a geisha’s and as the women stared at each other and kicked off their shoes Gillian reached up and pulled it out and it fell down around her shoulders. Her cold blue eyes and Isabelle’s hot brown eyes locked together and Isabelle could feel her heart pounding deep inside her.

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A month after her fight against Olivia, Isabelle Ruiz Avellaneda met with Robert Tomlinson. Tomlinson was a black man who controlled the men and women who worked in the Snow’s gun factory and the families who farmed the valley outside of the city’s protective walls. He lived on a ranch half an hour’s ride from the city and after her man Guillermo had made arrangements Isabelle rode there with him and two men and Jordan. The two story house was well maintained and guarded by three men with rifles whom they could see and Isabelle knew there would be more she could not see. Tomlinson was sitting on the porch drinking a glass of some clear liquid that made him wince with each sip and he gave little indication of their arrival. Isabelle introduced herself and Guillermo and Jordan. It was November now and cool and Isabelle could feel the wind stirring her hair and sliding through the thin long sleeve shirt she wore. She waited at the bottom of the stairs and she could feel Tomlinson appraising her and she endured it. At last the old man gestured with the cane next to his seat for her to follow him into the house. The others of her party waited on the porch.

Tomlinson moved bent over at the back, leaning more on the cane than Isabelle had expected and she wondered if it was the drink or his age. She decided that it was the hard life the man had lived to build up what he had that had left him drinking and run-down and sitting on his porch and she wondered what state such a life would leave her in when she reached his age, if she did in fact reach his age. She thought of her sister nearly two thousand miles away and whether Alejandra would face the same trials and whether either sister would be the equal of them. Tomlinson poured her a glass of the same white liquid, what she took to be some moonshine, and he put the glass clumsily on the table in the kitchen and indicated that she sit with him. She took a sip and made the same wince that he had and he sat watching her as she did so and then indicated with his hand that she drink again. He had white hair that he had allowed to grow out and a beard mixed with black and white hair and Isabelle knew from his eyes that he had done terrible things to get to where he was and to stay there and she also knew that he was a man who had done those things himself.

Isabelle traced the rim of the glass with her finger and Tomlinson watched her hand as she did so. “You know why I have come to Denver and who I am,” she started.

“Of course I do. It’s why I agreed to sit down with you. That, and to get a look at the beautiful woman who has come to our shit-stained nest in the mountains.”

“You’re very kind. And thank you for seeing me. I know you are a man to be respected.”

“I have say in everything that happens in this valley. Have for the last twenty years. And I’ve seen a lot of promising kids like you come and go. So forgive me if I don’t leap up at your new idea. I don’t do much leaping at this point,” he added with a smirk, tapping the cane on the hardwood floor as he did.

“You know that my family sent me here to investigate our exporting our oil to you. We have oil, and Denver is the strongest city that we currently don’t do business with. I might still be young, but I have seen a lot of country, and you are better off here than most people.” Tomlinson took a drink and leaned back in his chair, and Isabelle knew that she had piqued him. “And I believe that you understand why that was a bad idea, as I do. Too much transportation, which means too much security, too much machinery and mechanics, too much risk.”

“I do. And because you seem like a serious young woman, I’ll tell you this: I didn’t like your plan because it was a last gasp of the tomfuckery that got us all into this shit. Why people want to wring out the last drops of the oil that caused all of this, I don’t understand.”

“Then perhaps you will like my proposal,” Isabelle said, widening her smile and tucking her hair behind an ear. “What I’ve seen in my time here is a place that has the resources to prosper. You have the weather to grow a lot of food, the geography gives you security, and there is still a lot that can be gotten from the parts of the city that aren’t occupied. What you need are workers. People who will put in the labor to get Denver on its feet.”

“And you can provide us with the hands to do that. From Mexico City, excuse me,” he said with a smirk, “I mean Zedillo City.”

“It’s too far. And the people there have too much to come all the way up here.” As she said the words Isabelle was stung by the thought that they did not apply to her. “But on our journey here I saw a lot of people who did not have very much. And a lot of them had brown faces.”

“You have the right face, and the right name, and I’m guessing that you still have plenty of seed money left from buying that rathole.”

“We drove all the rats out. We are getting pretty good at it,” she said with significance.

“I bet that not many people get the better of you twice,” Tomlinson said. “I take it that you and I would be partners in finding work for all these new hands?”

“I respect your expertise in labor organization. The things you know best, I would leave to you.”

“Okay. You understand that I can’t say yes to this right away, but I like it. Let me think on this for a little while. In the meantime, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He slammed the cane on the ground and shouted “Jackie!” Soon enough a very pretty black woman with light skin and ash brown hair entered. She was wearing long pants and a longsleeve shirt open at the top to reveal the curves of her breasts. She had a tight, athletic body and she looked to be a few inches taller than Isabelle. “This is Jackie Carter,” Tomlinson said. She stood next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “She handles the specifics on our operations now.”

The two women eyed each other over and then Isabelle rose and shook her hand. She found that Jackie was about three inches taller than she was. “Why don’t we go for a walk outside?” Jackie suggested. “Let me hear what you have to say.”

They left all of their guards at the house and walked slowly toward the barn. “Ever since I’ve been here, Mr. Tomlinson likes to do all of his business at the kitchen table. I’m more of an outdoors girl.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Mr. Tomlinson took me in when I was nine. My parents weren’t around any more. I’ve been working for him ever since. I handle most everything that he doesn’t.” They walked in silence past the barn. It seemed newly built and Isabelle remarked on its quality. “I hear that you have been up to a few adventures since you hit town.”

“Women like us do what we need to do.”

“We do indeed.”

As they walked Isabelle told her of her plans and Jackie said that it was a good idea that would prove to be good for the area. “You’re a beautiful woman,” she added, “and Mr. Tomlinson is still a man even if he is an old man. I’m sure that he will be on your side.”

“I doubt that he has ever been tricked by feminine wiles into doing something that was against his interests.”

“I think we both know that you’re too smart to believe that there has ever been a man that could be said about,” Jackie answered. “You know that the Snows have put out word that you’re not to be helped.”

“I had assumed as much.”

“They’re having a party in a few weeks. They throw it every year on the first of December. Welcoming in the winter sort of thing. They always invite us; throwing a bone to the help. It might be fun if you come.”

“Would you like that,” Isabelle asked, stepping closer to her.

In answer the light-skinned woman touched her hand to Isabelle’s cheek and kissed her on the lips. Isabelle put her hands in Jackie’s hair and felt herself being drawn in. Jackie ran her hands up and down her back as they kissed and then she pulled Isabelle’s shirt over her head and kissed her again and then they were lying together on the ground, topless, holding each other and kissing gently and then with passion. Kneeling before her Jackie slid Isabelle’s pants down off her hips and over her legs and then she kissed her on the stomach and traced her lips over her mound and then she was running her tongue inside of her and as she lay on her back staring up at the cloudy skies and the birds circling overhead Isabelle thought of the dance and the prospect of meeting Gillian there and she moaned. Jackie gripped her legs firmly and Isabelle tried to press herself harder against the tongue that was flicking itself and probing her and she tore out the grass under her hands and writhing now cried out and then Jackie was on her kissing her on the mouth and they rolled over with Isabelle on top smiling down on her.

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Isabelle’s dark brown hair hung down around her beautiful face onto her shoulders, touching the swell of her bountiful chest coming up out of the black and white dress she wore. The tight dress clung to her curvaceous body, the white of the sides bending as they ran from her thighs to her arms and the tips of her breasts and then the sheer black fabric covering her arms. She felt ready for the Snows’ party in every way. Her man Guillermo had pressed to come with her, but she had made him stay home. Isabelle never discussed the possibility of Jordan’s coming with her and in truth she did not know where Jordan would be going that night. She did not tell Jordan of her encounter with Jackie Carter but there had been distance between them and neither woman seemed inclined to address the problem. She stepped out the truck driven by Guillermo and instructed him to take it back home and then she stood again looking up at the edifice of the Snow’s mansion, as she had the day of her first visit to them. She learned a great deal about this place and herself since then, she felt, and brushing her hair back from her face and drawing herself up straight she walked into the house. As she entered, she heard the first heavy splats of rain on the ground behind her.

At the entryway Isabelle paused so that the guests looked her over, the men with approval and the women without, she in her stunning new dress that displayed every bit of her body that she wanted it to. The men were staring at her body and the women at her face and when it was over she joined a conversation of older men and their younger women at the doorway into the dining room. They all introduced themselves to her and she to them and all of the proper guests knew who she was and within some approximation why she would appear at the Snow’s party. One of the men was saying that Denver should join with Kansas and Nebraska to form a new state. One of the others, a man over six feet with a full white beard and a patch over one eye that could not conceal a very old scar that ran through the eye from his hairline to his cheek, scoffed and said that no one had the manpower or the machinery to hold together anything so large.

“My people do, in Mexico,” Isabelle said.

“Well that’s a very far way from here, honey, and if you don’t mind me saying, I’m not sure I like the idea of your family’s way of doing things to be the way we take after.”

“You don’t want to take after a city with schools and a police force?” Isabelle asked in a clear and direct voice.

The man studied her and then burst out laughing. “I was referring to your family’s tendency to dictate to those others who live alongside them, or under them” he said. “I don’t think that’s what the people in this valley are looking for.”

“You mean that’s not what you’re looking for, Harlan” one of the other men said to the one-eyed speaker. “There’s others of us not so used to be pushed around. Some of us would like to do some pushing ourselves.”

“You’re okay with that because you’ve never been pushed yourself,” Isabelle said.

The rest of them stared at her or at the floor. Isabelle knew that the other women did not like her speaking up and did not care. At last Harlan pulled a silver flask from his jacket and drank from it and then handed it to the other men. As the flask came around Isabelle drank from it herself. It was the same moonshine she had drank with Robert Tomlinson.

“I do suspect the lady from Mexico has gotten the better of you Floyd,” Harlan said to the other one.

“It’s not a predicament she has found herself in often since she got here, so forgive her if she doesn’t handle it very well,” Gillian Snow said as she joined their circle. Gillian also wore a short tight dress that revealed every bit of her equally buxom body. Hers was a white with a tint of blue and the deep cut put her cleavage on proud display. Her hair was folded atop her head like a geisha’s and she and Isabelle locked eyes and then Gillian turned to the rest of them. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Mr. Herald,” she said, speaking to the man who wanted to join Denver to Nebraska and Kansas. “They’re getting stronger west and south of us, and we need to be getting stronger too.”

“When you become stronger, you make yourself game to those who are also stronger,” Isabelle said. “You should take care not to overplay your position.”

“I’m not the one who has left herself too exposed,” Gillian replied. Two of the other women exchanged knowing looks.

“I must admit that I have struggled to understand Americans’ desire to remain closed off, alone and hostile all the time. Better to be friendly and open.”

“I would have thought that your business experiences here would have taught you all that you needed to know about the advantages of being skilled at hostility.”

“I think that you’ll find that those advantages are fleeting,” Isabelle said to her, “and their repercussions serious.”

“You’re quite the political philosopher, ma’am,” Harlan said to her.

Gillian ignored him and said to Isabelle, “We’re not the ones who have played ourselves out. You all know Robert Tomlinson, the black man who is in charge of the workers here. My family has just made an agreement with him to bring in more workers for us. We mean to expand farming, open more factories and businesses, rebuild more housing. Denver is going to work again, and my family will be the ones who make it happen.”

The local men and women all congratulated Gillian on the achievement and they all spoke eagerly on the changes the Snows were bringing and how much money it would create for them. Floyd Herald said that he wanted to speak with her father about making it easier for him to find and keep—words he said with great emphasis—quality servants for his household. Isabelle thought that Harlan was watching her more carefully and keeping himself out of the gloating congratulations of the rest of them. But inside she was floundering and she felt as if she were in danger of drifting away. Then she snapped awake with the thought that Gillian was standing next to her now and had even bumped her elbow into her arm.

Isabelle touched Gillian on the shoulder and said, “Congratulations on your new deal.”

“Why thank you. That means a lot to me to hear you say that. I know that you put a great deal of yourself into this recently, and it’s a great feeling for me to be able to tell you about this here, tonight. I’m afraid that you won’t be able to talk this over with Mr. Tomlinson or his friend Jackie.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yes, it is. But if you would like to talk in private, there is a bedroom I’ve set aside for. Up the front stairs, to the right. The guard upstairs will show you. But before we do that, I have these other guests to see to. My father wants everyone to know about our latest success.”

Isabelle spent the next two hour moving from conversation to doorway to window. Outside the rain was heavy and she could feel it on the air. All the time she was waiting she could feel the blonde moving around the room, telling everyone about her family’s latest success. At last, as the guests were leaving, Gillian disappeared and then Isabelle went upstairs and allowed the guard to show her to an isolated bedroom at the end of the hall. Isabelle sat along and then Gillian entered and firmly shut the bedroom door behind her. She was a stunning beauty whose passion and hatred was a raging fire against the cold beauty of her face and feminine body. The winter rain thudded against the windows. Isabelle rose from the bed and the two women were standing in the middle of the room. She kicked off her shoes as she stared at the blonde. As the women stared at each other and kicked off their shoes Gillian reached up and pulled her hair out and it fell down around her shoulders. Her cold blue eyes and Isabelle’s hot brown eyes locked together and Isabelle could feel her heart pounding deep inside her chest.

Gillian said, “I put two of our men in the hallway, so no one is going to interfere. I thought the beating I gave you last time would have been enough to teach you a lesson about meddling, but I see I was wrong.”

“We are going to see who is taught a lesson tonight.”

With a deeper snarl Isabelle dashed forward and Gillian met her. Isabelle slapped her across the face and Gillian slapped her back and then she drove herself into Isabelle. The women clutched at each other bodily and then fell onto the bed and they were still at each other, pulling hair and struggling and their chests and hips and thighs pressed against each other. Gillian was lying on top of her and she punched her in the side Isabelle rolled her off of her and Gillian fell of the bed. She landed hard on the floor and as she rose Isabelle struck her across the face with a wild glancing punch that sent Gillian spinning into the wall. The blonde turned and faced her and as the brunette came for her she kicked her in the thigh and slapped her across the face. Isabelle was stunned and turned away from her by the force and she stumbled and then when Gillian planted her foot on her ass and pushed she fell to her hands and knees.

Before Isabelle could get back to her feet Gillian yanked her by the hair with incredible force and then both of them shrieking in hatred and pain Gillian ran her across the room into the wall. Isabelle struck the hard wood with her shoulder and her head and as Gillian hit her in the face and body Isabelle threw her arms around her and with the weight of her body dragged her to the ground. The two rolled back and forth on the ground, pulling hair and grabbing and hitting each other. Isabelle got on top and slapped Gillian with her hand and a backhand and as the blonde lay stunned under her she tore open her dress and sunk her fingers into the great breasts now exposed. Gillian howled in pain and she pulled on her hair but Isabelle endured it and began digging her fingers into the flesh and then Gillian slapped her across the face and bucked her off. They rolled apart and got back to their feet and gasping for air they glared at each other, sweat on their faces and in their hair and on their chests and legs, and then they began fighting again.

Gillian hit her in the face and Isabelle grabbed her hair and holding her head she hit her in the face and stomach. In response Gillian pulled her hair and then sent her fist up into Isabelle’s breast. The brunette groaned and let go of the blonde’s hair and Gillian hit her in the stomach doubling her over clutching at herself and then Gillian seized her by the back of her dress and then spinning around she flung Isabelle back to the ground and she stood over her holding her dress. With a smirk in spite of her own pain Gillian tossed the dress aside but as she turned back to her opponent Isabelle was already turning crouched low and as they faced each other Isabelle sprung forward like a great cat and rammed her shoulder into the blonde’s buxom chest. With the hard thwack the women went down to the ground again. Soon both of them were only wearing their panties. The rain hit the windows around them and sweat glistened on their bruised and panting bodies as they fought. They pulled hair and slapped bodies and attacked breasts with passion, their faces and thighs pressed together.

They came to their feet still clutched at each other. Pulling hair, bent at the waist, foreheads pushed together, they turned in a circle. Gillian threw her fist up into Isabelle’s face and the Mexican beauty fell to her knees and then Gillian kneed her in the chest and she fell onto her back. As Isabelle lay on the ground on her back with her hands covering her face and breasts Gillian kicked her in the legs and then in the sides but then as she drew her leg back to kick her again Isabelle struck her in the other leg and the blonde fell hard on the floor. The two women lay still for a second and then as the blonde sat up and lunged forward at her Isabelle the brunette still on her back drew her feet up and lashed out and kicked her in the chest. Gillian fell next to her, clutching at her reddening breasts and moaning and both of them lay still for some time. Then when she was ready Isabelle came to her feet and pulled Gillian up by her hair and threw her against the wall. As the blonde came forward to meet her Isabelle slapped her across the face and then they squared off in the middle of the room. Their hair was a mess of tangles and their beautiful faces and bodies hot and battered with exertion.

Isabelle hit her in the face and then Gillian slapped her back but Isabelle punched her in the stomach and then when she was bent over she brought both her hands down across her back knocking her to her knees. When the blonde was on her hands and knees Isabelle yanked her head back by the hair and spit into her face and slapped her wildly across the face, sending Gillian spinning around and landing face down on the ground. Isabelle stood over regaining her breath and the blonde bitch was pushing herself up to her hands and knees as Isabelle moved to resume her punishment. Again she yanked back on the blonde’s hair but this time Gillian whipped around and punched her at the bottom of her stomach. All the air and the energy drained out of her and holding her stomach Isabelle fell forward onto her knees. The two women faced each other like that and then Gillian threw herself into a wild slap that put Isabelle down and Gillian alongside her. Isabelle felt as if she were watching from afar as the blonde stirred next to her and rising she pulled Isabelle up by the hair and threw her legs around Isabelle’s waist. She squeezed her waist with her strong thighs and yanked her hair with one hand and clawed her breast with the other. Isabelle weakly pulled at the legs that were crushing her and then she pulled the hand away from her breast.

When Isabelle could not do any more she let her hands slump to her sides. Gillian let go her legs and maneuvered herself, sitting her shapely ass on Isabelle’s stomach and pinning the Mexican beauty under her. The two combative women locked eyes again, the cold-eyed blonde staring down at her, and Gillian traced her fingers along the swell of Isabelle’s breasts and then with a snarl she brought her fist down into the middle of Isabelle’s chest and slapped her across the face, back and forth. When Isabelle lay half-aware under her with no fight she rose and stood over her. Sweat dripped from her thighs and breasts and face and fell onto Isabelle. At last Gillian went to the closet and removing a robe with difficulty put it around her and went to the door.

“As always,” she said, looking down on the Mexican woman, “let me know when you want to learn from me again.”