School Of Divinity

"And when we married? I be the best wife you ever had," Marie vowed.

"My little angel, I do believe you shall be the very wife I have prayed for," Michael assured her.

"And I be the best too," Catherine whispered, blushing hotly.

After the meal, fires were lighted and the men continued to work. Just before the sun again crested the mountain, Michael retrieved a simple wooden cross from his trunk, kissed it reverently, then hammered the last nail, affixing the cross to the wall behind his altar.

"Friends, brothers, fellow Christians," Michael said simply. "I am humbled by your labors, by your desire to help me to build this house of our Lord. Thank you."

The remaining lumber was used to construct wooden benches for the congregation. Then, the men bowed their heads for the first prayers to be spoken in the Church of Our Savior.

"Now, would you look at that," Henry said sleepily as they stepped out of the church.

The women and children were travelling from encampment to church, with the morning meal. The men smiled and accepted the fare provided by their women.

"Michael! Michael," Marie called out, tapping around with her cane.

"I am here," Michael smiled, not missing the smirk Carolyn, his sister was giving him.

"Catherine! She done made us some griddle cakes," Marie said excitedly. "Man! We never have that."

Sweetened with honey, the corn meal cakes were truly a treat. T-Henry and John-John complained; they'd only had one cake apiece, but Michael got two of the pan fried treats.

"And when you get you a girl, maybe she make you some," Isabella offered.

"Girls? Man," John-John complained.

After the dedication of the church, Carolyn did return to the telegraph office. She sent word to the railroad station that there was a need for five, possibly six stagecoaches. Receiving confirmation, she then packed her own meager possessions.

"Dear brother," she said, as they sat to eat in the Bergeron-Martinelli home. "I shall remain long enough to see you wed, then I shall return to New Orleans. I do miss my home."

"And we got that white cloth," Claire said.

"And that why I made sure I grabbed hold of it," Henry said, proud of himself for thinking of this.

"Then, you and Michael need take T-Henry and John-John, see you can find us that blue pig, hmm?" Claire suggested to her husband.

John Culver showed Michael how to work the silver, using heat and pressure. He did not ask why the good Reverend needed three rings, but he had been a Lutheran from birth. He supposed whatever branch of Christianity that the good man belonged to might have some ritual that required a third ring.

"My dear friend, I will confide in you," Michael whispered as he labored to polish the ring to a high shine. "I shall have two brides."

"Hmm," was John's response.

Then he patted Michael on the shoulder.

"Two wives? My brother, then its good you already know how pray," he responded.

"Hush you," Agnes, John's wife snapped.

He stuck his tongue out at her and she let a snort of disgust escape. But both Michael and John did see the wife's smile as she turned.

Michael laughed and patted his friend on the back. Then he completed the second ring.

Sunday morning, rising inside the hovel recently vacated by Wilhelm Burchfield and his wife Hannah, Michael said his morning prayer. He gave thanks to his Lord and Savior, then he dressed in the garb of a minister.

The sunlight was just beginning to crest as Michael strode to the center of the camp. Then he held his Bible high above his head.

"My brothers! My sisters! Friends!" Michael called out in a strong voice. "I have come! I have come to proclaim the good news; the good news that our Lord and Savior has risen from the dead, has ascended into the Heavens and shall come again in triumphant glory! Brothers, sisters, come! Come and hear the good news, the word of God."

With giggles and squeals, Catherine and Marie playfully shoved at each other as they raced to be the first to reach Michael. Michael smiled as Catherine stopped at the last moment, allowing her friend to win.

"My two little angels," Michael praised and both girls blushed prettily.

With Catherine and Marie directly behind him, Michael led the procession of miners and their families to the church.

Both girls sat up straight and proud as Michael seated them upon the small altar, behind himself. He allowed the miners and families time to mingle, to chatter, to talk. Then he began his service.

"This evening, dear friends, my brothers, my sisters?" Michael said at the end of his service. "I invite you all to return; there will be a wedding here. There will be the joining of man and woman in marriage."

The congregation did murmur. Many noticed the heavy blushes of Marie and of Catherine as both girls held each other's hand.

"In truth, my friends, it shall be a double ceremony," Michael confided. "When I came to this community, I did not expect that I should find myself a bride. My sister simply stated that this community had need of a spiritual guide."

He gave a nod to Carolyn. She smirked but returned his nod.

"But I did find someone that I wished to make my bride. And she had a sister, a friend, and would not be separated from her friend," Michael said. "So, Heaven help me, I did ask both to wed with me, and both shall be my brides. So, I invite you to attend, just as the sun sends up its last rays to the heavens, to join us in worship, and in celebration."

Immediately, the women of the camp descended upon Marie and Catherine, descended upon Claire and Lucinda. A few of the men looked at one another, and at the Reverend in confusion.

"That, uh, that Marie girl? Ain't she, she's blind," one man did whisper to Michael.

"I have noticed," Michael smiled.

"But how she going be a wife?" the man persisted.

"Hush you," his wife spat.

She then whispered into her husband's ear, "When it all dark in our room, you care you can't see?"

"OOoohh!" the man said, nodding his head in comprehension.

Then the husband blushed hotly. He could not meet Michael's gaze, but did mumble that they would be in attendance that evening.

That evening, there were none that did not attend the wedding. The Reverend had become a social linchpin in the community. This new church, built by their own hands was now the focus of their dwindling community.

Henry did proudly walk up the aisle of the church, his daughter holding onto his arm. The dress of white linen was truly beautiful and covered the girl from throat to ankle and to her wrists.

It also hugged Marie's feminine physique quite snugly; Michael could make out the points of the young woman's nipples as her breast wobbled and rasped against the rough material of the gown.

Henry walked with pride, even as tears coursed down his rough face. He paused in front of the smiling Michael and squeezed his daughter's hand. She released her hold on her father's arm and Henry prepared to turn.

"Henry Bergeron, do you give your daughter, Marie Bergeron to be wed?" Michael asked.

"I uh, well yeah, that what we doing here, right?" Henry stammered.

"And Marie Bergeron, do you enter this union freely? With no reservation in your heart?" Michael asked, nodding to Henry.

"I do," Marie said. "I love you all my heart yeah."

Henry now walked with Catherine. Obviously, Lucinda and Claire had used the same dress pattern to make Catherine's gown. It rivaled Marie's in elegance and beauty. It also hugged Catherine's form very well. And in the candle light from the altar, Michael could see the dark markings of Catherine's areolae, her hard nipples. He could see a shadow of her womanhood, could make out the triangle of her curls just underneath the gown.

"Henry Bergeron, do you give your daughter Catherine Martinelli to be wed?" Michael asked, fighting quite hard against developing an erection as he gazed upon Catherine's charms.

"Yeah, and her momma does to," Henry agreed. "Oh! And my Claire gives her blessing our Marie get married."

"And Catherine Martinelli, do you enter this union freely? With no reservation in your heart?" Michael asked, his own tears beginning as he saw the tears trickling down Catherine's smiling face.

"I do," Catherine managed to say.

Michael kept the ceremony short, reading only a few passages from the good book in regards to the union of a man and a woman in matrimony.

"Marie Bergeron, do you take my hand in marriage?" Michael started.

"Yeah, and Catherine too," Marie agreed.

"And I do take you, to be my wife," Michael said, over the titters of the congregation.

"I place my ring upon your finger. Let any who see this ring see that this ring joins us together," Michael intoned, taking Marie's hand into his and putting the ring onto her left hand's third finger.

Catherine also received her ring. The ceremony was completed when Michael had both Marie and Catherine put the third ring onto his finger.

"Marie, I now kiss you, our first kiss as man and wife," Michael announced.

Marie blushed hotly but craned her head up for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to Michael for a long moment.

"And Catherine," Michael said after disentangling himself from Marie. "I now kiss you, our first kiss as man and wife."

Catherine likewise craned her head up for his kiss. She gently touched his face as their lips came together.

"And now we both married!" Marie enthused when Michael pulled away from Catherine.

With this declaration, Marie wrapped her arms around Catherine. Catherine also hugged her friend in a tight embrace. Marie showed no hesitation as she pressed her lips to Catherine's lips, kissing her friend.

"Friends, family, let us celebrate this most holy matrimony," Michael called out. "There is cake in the rear of the church."

"And don't tell nobody," John Paul called out. "But me and Henry? We done brought some hard cider yeah."

"It shall be my secret," Michael smiled as both John Paul and Henry smiled.

Among the talking, laughing, chattering, Michael and Claire and Lucinda served their guests slices of the far too sweet cake. Michael was finally pushed aside by his sister and Caroline assumed the position of serving cake.

Finding Catherine and Marie, Michael found that either Henry or John Paul had decided that they were now married, they were old enough for hard cider. As Henry was already well into the cider, Michael suspected it had been the father to provide the two eighteen year old girls their first taste of alcohol.

Thankfully, neither girl had much cared for the taste. So they were not drunk, but were quite giddy, quite giggly.

"And Momma? She said we might even get unclothed," Marie whispered, quite loudly to Michael.

"Well, yes, that is my hope," Michael laughed at her antics.

"Both us?" Marie asked, then giggled at the naughty thought.

"Yeah both us, and him too," Catherine said, trying to stifle her giggles.

The more she giggled, though, the more Marie giggled. And the more Marie giggled, the more Catherine giggled. Soon, they were breathless with laughter.

"My God, you truly have given me, your humble servant two of your angels," Michael said, watching the girls hug each other in their happiness.

Finally, the celebration drew to a close. Michael helped Marie find her stick and she reached out for Catherine's hand.

"You married now, you do his hand," Catherine said.

"But Catherine, you one always doing it," Marie fussed.

"And now Michael going do it," Catherine insisted.

"But..." Marie protested.

"Catherine," Michael said gently. "Your sister does not want me to guide her. She wants you to guide her."

"That why I married you," Marie said.

"What?" Catherine giggled. "Marie, you silly. You married Michael, not me."

"No, I married Michael AND you," Marie insisted.

At the door of their hut, Michael scooped Marie into his arms and carried her across the threshold. He carried her from door to bed, and with a gentle kiss to her lips, placed her onto the bed.

Catherine smiled and held out her arms for Michael. He scooped her into his arms and carried her across threshold to bed.

When he placed Catherine onto the bed, Marie pulled Catherine to her and kissed her.

Michael closed the door and fastened it securely. Then he stoked the wood stove; the nights did have a chill to them. Then he checked the kerosene lamp.

Watching all this, Catherine almost gasped. She realized, their husband was nervous, was stalling, dawdling before coming to bed.

"Michael," Catherine said firmly. "Come. We will not wait much longer for you."

"Yeah," Marie agreed.

Marie then giggled, a blush coming to her face. She reached out and touched Catherine.

"You don't hurry? We don't need you," Marie declared.

"Marie!" Catherine gasped, truly scandalized.

"Marie Atwell!" Michael laughed.

"Oh! That my name now! I'm Marie Atwell me!" Marie gasped.

"Ah! And I'm Catherine Atwell!" Catharine realized.

Michael shook his head in wonder as the two girls again embraced, kissing each other. He shrugged out of his heavy black coat and placed it upon the clothing horse that John Culver had fashioned for him.

"Our husband has taken his coat off," Catherine whispered to Marie.

"Oh!" Marie said.

"And his shoes," Catherine narrated as Michael did slip his highly polished boots from his feet.

"Oh, then I need take mine off yeah," Marie decided.

"I get that," Catherine said, repeating a task she'd done many times over the years.

Michael paused in the removal of his clothing to watch his new bride slip from bed to floor. Catherine grabbed Marie's legs and sung them to dangle from the edge of the bed. She then squatted and removed the hard soled shoes from Marie's feet.

Marie let out a small sigh as Catherine now rubbed Marie's feet briskly.

Then Catherine began to remove her own hard shoes. Michael placed a hand upon her shoulder and she glanced over her shoulder at him.

"No, my dear, allow me," Michael said,

He placed Catherine onto the lip of the bed, next to his other wife. Catherine started to protest as he knelt at her feet, but a look from him silenced her.

"You are a truly loving and giving woman, my dear wife," Michael murmured as he struggled with the stiff buckle and strap. "But it is time you learned to let someone else be loving and giving to you too."

"Yes, my dear husband," Catherine murmured as he removed her right shoe.

"Marie, did you hear that?" Michael teased. "You did hear Catherine say unto me, 'yes husband,' did you not?"

"No, Michael," Marie said, smiling. "She said, 'Yes, my dear husband.'"

"And that is how you should both always answer your husband," Michael boasted.

"Before or after we take the strap to his backside?" Catherine teased.

"Careful, dear wife," Michael said, removing her left shoe. "That strap? Fits my hand as well."

"Oh!" Catherine said as Michael now rubbed her feet, paying attention to where the strap had bit into her flesh.

"What? What he doing you?" Marie asked.

"He's rubbing my feet like I do you," Catherine said, gasping as little tremors of pleasure traveled from her feet to her cleft.

"Oh! Think he do mine too?" Marie asked Catherine.

"Ask him, Marie. That your husband," Catherine said.

"Michael..." Marie started.

"But don't be asking him 'til he done with me," Catherine ordered.

Catherine then squealed as Michael began tickling the soles of her feet. She squirmed, trying to get away from his hands.

""Hee, hee, oh, do stop!" Catherine begged.

Michael then grabbed Catherine's right foot and gave a playful bite to Catherine's big toe. She shuddered, eyes wide in wonder as her cleft suddenly became quite heated.

"Ah!" Marie sighed loudly as her feet now received Michael's attention.

Catherine again dangled her feet off the lip of the quite tall bed. She rested her head against Marie's shoulder, watching as Michael gently, lovingly rubbed Marie's feet.

Marie turned her head and Catherine pulled her head from Marie's shoulder. The two girls softly kissed one another.

Then Marie let out a gasp. Her mouth opened, her tongue protruded and came in contact with Catherine's lips.

Catherine opened her mouth to ask what had made her friend gasp. When her mouth opened, Marie's protruding tongue entered Catherine's mouth. Their tongues touched softly, for a brief moment.

"Michael! You don't bite me!" Marie ordered, giggling.

"Sorry, them toes just looked delicious," Michael teased, getting to his feet again.

"Our husband is now removing his, his, um," Catherine hesitated.

She then rubbed Marie's chest, from neckline to her concave middle. Marie let out a small grunt when Catherine's forearm dragged over her left breast.

"Oh! His blouse!" Marie deduced.

"Yes, his blouse," Catherine said, again rubbing from Marie's neck to her middle.

"Does he have a hairy chest?" Marie whispered, her hot breath tickling Catherine's ear.

Catherine shivered from Marie's hot breath in her ear. She looked at Michael's muscled torso and taut abdomen.

"Just a patch, right, here," Catherine said, rubbing her hand between Marie's large breasts.

"Oh," Marie said, again shuddering as Catherine's forearm pressed against her left breast.

"Oh!" Catherine gasped as Michael removed his black trousers.

"What?" Marie demanded to know.

"He, our husband, he is now fully disrobed, Marie," Catherine whispered.

"And what does it look like?" Marie asked.

Catherine did not respond. She looked on with wonder, and fear at Michael's angry looking manhood. It jutted straight out from a patch of dark curls, rampant, proud. The head looked like a large plum, almost purple in the low lamplight. The shaft of his manhood was long and thick, and had a heavy vein running through it.

Underneath the large instrument were two large stones in a flesh pouch. Lucinda, Catherine's mother had whispered to Catherine that this was where the man stored his semen. The man's semen contained the seed necessary to create life within her belly.

"Catherine, what? What does our husband look like?" Marie demanded to know.

"You shall find out on your own," Michael stated, approaching the bed.

Catherine actually shrunk away as Michael approached. Marie's pretty face twisted in a frown of confusion. She turned her head to face Catherine.

"My Marie, may I remove your wedding dress?" Michael asked softly, taking her two hands into his large hands.

"Yes, my dear husband," Marie whispered, trembling slightly.

He pulled her to her feet. Just as she had done when it had been her mother, Mrs. Martinelli, Catherine and Isabelle assisting, Marie dutifully pulled her long blonde hair over her left shoulder, leaving her back uncovered. She then lifted her arms and held them up over her head.

Michael smiled at the child like gesture and kissed Marie softly. He then found the first hook and catch at the base of her nape and unlatched the fastener. With a second soft kiss, Michael unfastened the second hook, then with another kiss, he unhooked the third fastener.

Seven kisses and seven hooks and catches, Michael had reached the portion of Marie's back, just before the flesh swelled out to form the tops of her buttocks. He grasped the material in his fingers and lifted it from Marie's form.

Her shapely legs came into view first. Both legs did have a light patina of blonde hairs but the light blonde hairs did not obscure her pale flesh.

Her full hips were exposed next. Just between the two full hips, just above her well-formed thighs was Marie's prominent pubic mound. Her mound was capped by a dense thicket of blonde hairs, the same in color as the light blonde of her head. But unlike the long, straight hairs on her beautiful head, the hairs on Marie's pubic mound were a coiled mass of curls.