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MOUNTAIN DADDY’S MILK &
HONEYMOON
ELENA DAWNE
Copyright © 2023 by ELENA DAWNE

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by fucking legend: Sotia the Awesome.
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue

Also by Elena Dawne

About the Author
Elena wants to kick book pirates in the balls…
 WARNING!

If you’re afraid to get wet, then this book is not for you. The content is written to excite and delight.

This is a work of FICTION.

That means I made it all up for the sake of glorious smut — so if you think you recognize some person
or place in this book, you either have some spicy-ass friends or an extremely active fantasy life.
I applaud you!

This book is also intended for ADULTS.

If that’s not you, Sweet Pea, then I love your moxie, but close the book and come back once you’ve
turned eighteen. X
 CHAPTER ONE

I loveThey
the mornings when I’m awake first.
happen so rarely, that a little sense of magic lingers in the air, making it feel even more
wonderful to be cozied-up with a big, warm mountain man.
There’s farm work to do, and we have our first-ever invited guests coming later, but I’ll be tended
to first. Ben’s substantial morning wood is already deliciously firm against my stomach.
I keep an appreciative eye on the hairy, oversized bundle of naked man sleeping next to me and try
my best not to wake him, as I carefully ease myself higher in our bed. Only once I’ve moved into the
perfect position do I allow myself to imagine how good it’s going to feel when my mountain daddy
wakes up, and I’m so ready for it. My breasts are full and achy with his morning feed, and the thought
of his eager suckling encourages a thin milky bead to form at one nipple.
The giddy sensation grows inside me as it always does before a milking session. No matter how
many times we do it, the sheer anticipation of Ben’s rough, silver-streaked beard bristling against my
breasts as he hungrily takes his feed gets my pussy dripping with excitement before we even start. He
never seems to get enough of me, and just thinking about his hot, thirsty mouth on my swollen breasts
makes me feel like his special girl. Every day, he makes it clear that I’m who he craves, and being
Ben’s special girl comes with amazing benefits.
I lean forward and brush my nipple against his lips, teasing his sleepy senses, when normally I’d
be the one waking to his playful behavior.
Ben smiles dreamily but remains blissfully asleep.
I lean even closer and guide my breast to his mouth again, parting his lips with my nipple and
slipping it just inside. Not pushing further or doing anything that might startle him, I simply rest my
nipple between his warm lips and think of all the wonderful things he’s going to do with my body
when he wakes. His tender touches make me feel so loved, and I’m addicted to the way his huge cock
pushes inside and fills me to bursting. It’s the best feeling ever when combined with the sharp,
demanding tugs he’ll give at my breast.
The letdown hits me with a rush, and milk dribbles into his mouth. It drips from his relaxed lips to
his beard, and then onto the pillow beneath him, before he begins to stir.
He presses his lips together around my nipple as he swallows, and as he suckles gently in his
sleep, his thick, meaty cock strains against my thigh. We’ve been doing this long enough for his body
to automatically associate the taste of my milk with sexual pleasure.
I know the exact moment awareness hits him.
The suction at my teat strengthens, and he drives his hips forward, thrusting his cock into my ready
palm. Ben snags my ass in a fierce grip with his huge, calloused hand, and his eyelids fly open. His
rich, brown eyes focus on me, and it’s as if I’m all there is to see.
Before my next breath, Ben pulls off my breast and takes control of my innocent little tease.
I’m rolled and pinned on my back with my wrists held against the mattress over my head, and he
looks me over with a warm and interested gaze that holds absolute approval. “Mmm… Good
morning, sweet girl.”
Without pausing for further civilities, he lowers his bearded face to my fullest breast and latches
on with a thirst that drives me wild with the need to sate it.
He pulls at me with his hot, powerful mouth, as if he intends to take everything I have.
The intensity forces a moan of pure pleasure from my pursed lips. “Daddy.”
Ben’s fat cock strains against my thigh at the pet name that reminds us both how much younger I
am than him, the care he takes with me, and the stepfather-like role he once held in my life, before
Mom lost her fucking mind and threw away the best damned life we ever had.
No matter. I grew up and found him again as a woman ready for a specific lifestyle, and while
Ben took some convincing to see me as grown and fuckable, he came around to giving me what I
wanted. It may have been inevitable — the daddy-and-his-special-girl dynamic pricks at the naughty
urges within us and stirs them into a need too overwhelming to contain.
With the fuse ignited, there’s only one direction our arousal is headed, and while I can never get
there soon enough, Ben prefers to draw out my pleasure. He likes things done a certain way, and I
will be the first to admit that, despite my impatience, his methods always leave me panting with
desire and ready and willing for anything he wants to do to me.
I’m in love with the look on his face when he’s enjoying me, and I’ll never complain about that
sexy smile lingering on his lips. Ben’s taught me that the harder a reward is to earn, the sweeter it can
be. Delayed orgasms are almost torture, but they’re also deeply satisfying when they’re delivered.
Some things are worth the wait, so I don’t complain when he takes his time appreciating my rounded
breasts, hips, and ass.
I adore the way he enjoys my feminine shape. He’s the reason for it — the one who helped my
body blossom and develop over the last year. He invested time and energy into nurturing me, as he
does any living creature under his care — with attention, love, and extra feed. I came to him a skinny
girl, but I’m a fully fledged and filled-out woman now. His woman.
His suction at my breast eases and not ready for him to stop, I thrust my chest thrusts upward. It’s
too soon for him to be done, and I whimper and strain against his hold that has me pinned. I love
being milked, and I never make a secret of wanting more. “Please, Daddy.”
Ben smiles down at me, a knowing look in his eyes. He knows what I want. What I need.
He thrusts my legs apart, to make room for himself and wastes no time pushing his massive cock
inside me. I gasp at the sudden fullness and shift against the intense stretch, angling my pelvis to
receive him more deeply. His heavy balls press flush against my ass, and his satisfied grunt at my
ability to accommodate him puts a proud smile on my lips.
My mountain daddy’s learned all there is to know about my body. I came to him a virgin, but he’s
broken me in so thoroughly, I could take him anytime, anywhere. Being milked several times a day
leaves me constantly primed for his cock.
Ben glides in and out of my slick heat, slowly at first, and then fast enough for us to hear how wet
he’s made me. We’ve both come to love that sound and the wantonness it inspires within me.
“Mmm. That’s my girl,” Ben rumbles as he forces an appreciative moan from my lips and more
slurpy wet noise from my pussy. “Take this big cock.” He grabs my hips and lifts as he drives into me,
so I’ll feel every thick inch of him.
 Fucking into me hard and fast, Ben sets my full breasts jiggling and rolling in a feast for his hungry
gaze that seems to spur him on like nothing else. His cock thickens and jerks inside me, and his thrusts
get more savage and frenzied. They’re the actions of a man consumed, and proof that he loves this as
much as I do — loves what I do to him.
My breath is getting harder to catch, and my heart pounds, as I rise to meet him as best I can.
Trapped where he wants me, I do everything in my power to please him. I bring him deep, to hit my
womb with the kind of impact we both enjoy, and his grunted praise sends a flutter of joy through my
chest.
Sometimes, he tries to hide how much I affect him, but I devour the tightness of his jaw and every
twitch in his big muscles with my gaze, as he visibly unravels at the feel and sight of me.
I’m his. All laid out, for him to use. Every curve and hole I have is for him, and he knows it. This
man is my hero, and I trust him completely. He takes such good care of me in every possible way, and
he’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Ben ducks his head, clamps his mouth onto my breast, and sucks my nipple hard and deep as he
fucks me. I arch into him, as pleasure shoots through me, and I meet his pumping cock with a new
desperation.
The stretch intensifies. My inner walls are drawing tight around him, making him feel even bigger
inside me, and as he pulls the milk from my breast, I begin to tremble with every overwhelming
sensation.
Fluent in the language of my body, Ben reads every breath and tremor and hoists my ass higher. He
brushes his fingers past my tightest hole with intent, and I whimper as everything inside me tightens
even further. “Daddy.”
A loud pounding breaks through my pleasure haze, and I stiffen, but Ben doesn’t skip a beat. He
keeps sucking my tits and pumping his massive cock in and out of my juicy hole like a man possessed.
I trust his instincts. It’s probably not the front door but something out in the yard — the house cow
impatiently kicking a milk bucket, maybe. If Ben believes she can wait for me to come before he tends
to her, who am I to argue?
When the sound comes again, louder, I’m almost certain it’s a knock at the door. Ben still doesn’t
falter.
“Ben?” I crane my neck to hear better. “Are your friends here already? Early for the hunt? Should
I get the door?”
“No,” he growls, lifting his head from my breast. “You should come on my cock while they wait
on the porch.”
I nod, because that’s what I want, but the interruption has thrown me. Riddled with tension instead
of pleasure, my body struggles to follow orders.
Ben pumps into me a few more times, and then gives an irritable grunt. “Maggie, baby, I’m not
sacrificing your pleasure because those assholes can’t read a clock. You’re going to come. We’re not
leaving this bed until your tight little cunt is squeezing the cum from Daddy’s cock.”
“But—”
He shakes his head and grinds into me, until I’m crammed full and my clit is throbbing with
potential. “You’re number one,” he says. “They can wait. Understood?”
He does the grinding maneuver again, and I lose my train of thought. Every lost sensation is back
on the table, luring my weak, needy flesh back into a growing spiral of sensation. I rock into him
uncontrollably, and Ben hums softly and smiles.
“Better,” he whispers, as I move my hips in time with his. His hand grips my ass, and one of his
big fingers circles my asshole again. “You’re going to come hard for Daddy, aren’t you?”
Pressing my lips together, I squirm against his finger and nod.
“Good girl. Make it loud, and they’ll know why we’re not out there, welcoming them.” Ben grins
at my wide eyes, then lowers his face next to my ear. “Make a lot of fucking noise, baby girl. Show
them what Daddy does to you.” His voice is husky with need, and it sends a ripple of early twitches
through my core. He grazes his teeth along my breast and then flicks his tongue over my nipple. “Make
sure they know you’re mine, Maggie.”
An excited little shiver runs through me as I smile.
I’ve never once thought about letting another man fuck me, but any glimpse of Ben’s possessive
streak sends the blood rushing through my veins.
Is he worried his friends will look at me and want me? He thinks I’m that pretty?
Is he wanting to make them jealous? Make them feel they’re missing out on something special
because they’re not fucking me? Make himself seem like the luckiest of them? Is Ben truly so proud to
have me as his woman?
My pussy quivers around his cock, and I hitch my leg higher on his side, to open myself for more.
If he wants his friends to know I’m his special girl, then everyone should hear the claim he’s staking.
Someone pounds on the door again. They call his name — and so do I.
“Daddy Ben,” I cry out, and his big finger pushes into my ass, stretching and stroking my sensitive
flesh until I can hardly breathe.
His eyes are wild with excitement, and I thinks it’s because of my response to sharing our fuck
with his friends. Whatever it is, his enthusiasm is infectious.
It’s as if I’m Ben’s shiny fuck-toy that everyone should want, but nobody else can play with me.
Unless Ben gives permission.
That thought sends an unexpected dirty thrill through me. It makes me naughty… and curious. It’s
the same kind of feeling I got when I tried the milking cups for the first time, out in the barn.
“Louder, baby.” Ben pistons his cock in and out of my soaking cunt. He latches on to my breast,
and tugs and pulls at my teat, as he fucks me in both holes, forcing my pleasure to a ragged peak.
It’s not hard to do as I’m told. I literally can’t keep my noises inside. Actual coherent words are
impossible, as my body responds to his relentless pleasurable commands, but I wail unintelligible
cries at the top of my lungs without a care for how I sound — which is probably like some farm
animal.
Not for the first time, I’m struck by the imagery of being a young heifer getting fucked by the
farm’s massive bull. It’s not far from the truth, and I love it.
Daddy Ben’s friends will think I’m wild.
He pushes his cock deep and gives an appreciative moan as he slows his thrusts to a standstill.
“No. Daddy, don’t stop.”
I beg for more — loudly.
Ben loves it. I feel him smiling into my breast, before he starts sucking at me so hard that I
instinctively buck into him. I rub my clit against him, driving him deeper into both holes, and we both
moan as sensation rockets through me.
I pull tight, squeezing his cock as I rock into him again and again, taking what I need, as I let the
whole world know how good it feels.
Everyone waiting outside is going to know I’m a dirty little bitch, who loves her big mountain
daddy’s cock. They’re going to think about it every time they look at me.
Will they look at Ben as if he’s struck gold? He’s fucking a woman half his age, and she clearly
loves it. Will they wish they could fuck me too?
The idea hits me with an unexpected boost of pleasure, and I take Ben deeper and faster, loving
the way his suckling becomes as restless and edgy as I feel.
Do I want to be fucked by his old school buddies?
I cry out even louder — letting them to know how much I like cock and that I’m hungry for more
— but I feel instantly guilty.
I love Ben. I’m his. His to do with as he pleases.
Maybe he’ll let them fuck me?
I imagine him supervising, as his friends take turns, trying to best him at pleasuring me. Before I
can rein in my imagination, I’m slamming my hips upward, to meet Ben’s hard, unforgiving body.
My body seems to understand and adore the idea of Ben sharing me. The mouth at my breast could
belong to another. He has a whole group of friends. What if two men were milking me? One sucking at
each nipple while—
My orgasm hits so hard, I scream Ben’s name loudly enough to wake even our nearest neighbors,
all those miles away.
Ben eggs me on, fucking me through my spasms as he yehaws, and when I fall limp, he follows me
into bliss with a wholehearted rumble.
“I think you liked my friends’ hearing you take a fat cock, baby girl.”
My cheeks flush with heat, and I squeeze my eyes shut a moment, before opening one just a crack,
to see his face. “I don’t understand why it’s so fun to have other people know how much I love
fucking you, but I do like it,” I admit. Should I be confessing my naughty thoughts about being shared
by his friends?
I’m rewarded with a great smile and a slap on the ass, as he withdraws, but he might not approve
if I told him what else I might want to try.
“Witnesses definitely add an interesting new element to our usual way of doing things,” he agrees,
his grin widening. “I’d better go tidy myself and see to our guests. And to the cows. You be a good
girl and get your gorgeous ass dressed, but don’t wash up. I want you smelling of me all day.”
I shiver and squeeze my legs together. “Yes, Daddy.”
He’s filled me with so much cum, it’s overflowed to slick my thighs. It’s one of my favorite
feelings, and I’m happy to keep myself a mess. Sometimes, after a morning fuck, I’ll wear one of my
short skirts with no underwear, so Ben can watch his cum slide down my legs once I’m up and
walking around. He likes that.
Should I wear a short skirt today? A shiver runs through me, and a little cum leaks from within.
How will the other men react if I bend over and they catch sight of my fucked pussy?
Will they think I’m a juicy little fuck-hole they want to fill too? How would they do it? Take
turns?
My pussy gives a little aftershock of pleasure, and I cinch my thighs, to contain the naughty
thoughts.
I strain my ears to hear Ben’s friends, as he opens the door to greet them.
They cheer and joke around some, and then ask when they’ll get to meet the lady of the house.
I quite like that name.
I also like Ben’s response. “Your curiosity will be rewarded in good time, but because y’all
showed up early, you have to help with the chores while ‘the lady of the house’ makes herself
presentable.”
Presentable?
 We have a lot of freedoms, living so remotely, and Ben likes me topless or bare, so I don’t usually
wear much at all.
I consider my clothing options for company. Just how presentable I should make myself?
 CHAPTER TWO

H oping to please Ben, I decide to wear his favorite town outfit of mine. A simple cropped T-shirt,
my short pink skirt, and nothing else.
He asked me not to wash up, so I don’t. I leave myself the way he likes — well-lubricated and
easily accessible. It’s the way I like it too.
I’ll be giving him every opportunity to access my pussy today. We rarely get visitors, and after
Ben’s showboating and possessive behavior this morning, my body’s on high alert. I already feel
needy again, inside, and I’ll be ready for more of his attention whenever I can get it.
Of course, that may be tricky with four other people vying for his time. He hasn’t seen his buddies
in about a year, so he’ll want to spend as much time with them as he can, before they leave again. I’m
going to have to work hard for my share of Ben’s attention before they go hunting for the rest of the
day, so while they’re down at the barn, I’m going to take care of all the other chores to ensure there’s
time to play.
I quickly set up a platter of cookies and fruit for our guests, and then, munching on an apple slice,
I rush out the door, to collect the eggs. But I’m in such a hurry, I forget to take the big basket.
A cropped T-shirt is not ideal for using as a pouch to hold all the eggs; there’s not nearly enough
fabric. I do my best to gather them all safely, but I’m overloaded, and one falls to the ground. I pull
my shirt a little higher, to keep from losing any more, but it leaves the lower half of my tits hanging
out, so I’ll have to get back to the cabin with the eggs before anyone sees me.
I move fast, concentrating hard on keeping my cargo steady, so no more eggs roll out. The more I
break, the fewer we’ll have to sell, and Ben says we’re saving for something special. A surprise.
Surprises weren’t always good when I was growing up. They usually meant we had to move
house again, or that Mom had a new asshole boyfriend. Ben knows I’ve never enjoyed curveballs, but
he says I’ll like this one, and I trust him, so I can’t help but feel excited. He gives me no hints when I
try to guess what it is, but that doesn’t stop my mind from dreaming up possibilities.
I hope it’s a ring. I’ve dreamed of marrying Ben since I was a kid, and although we haven’t been
together for even a whole year yet, I’d be the happiest girl alive if he asked me to be his forever.
My daydreaming is cut short when I come around the house to find Ben and his childhood friends.
I can only stare and try not to lose another egg to my sudden stop.
I should’ve known they’d be big when he said they’d all played football together in high school,
but looking up at the five of them standing together on the porch makes me feel like a little girl lost in
a forest of huge trees. One of them is even bigger than Ben. And another is holding an infant car seat
handle over his thick forearm, as if it’s a handbag.
My gaze falls on the most adorable sleeping cherub I’ve ever seen. The bow in her short little
curls matches her chubby pink cheeks, and I nearly drop all the eggs, as I run up the steps to beg for
baby cuddles.
“Oh, my God. What’s her name? She’s gorgeous! Can I hold her?”
I look up at her daddy’s face, but he’s looking at me funny.
His gaze slides from my face, to take in the eggs for a good long while — long enough for me to
remember my tits are on display. My nipples pull taut from being caught so exposed, and he’s
definitely staring right at them, but then he shifts his gaze lower, and his eyes widen.
My cheeks flare with heat at the tickling sensation creeping down my inner thigh, and I press my
legs together, to soothe it, smearing Ben’s cum as I shiver.
The big man with the baby saw me dripping Daddy’s cum. I can tell.
I glance at each of the other men in turn, noting the direction of their gazes, and realize they’ve all
seen. Especially Ben.
“Maggie…”
Ben’s tone is all deep and growly, but I can’t tell if I’m being scolded or if I’m about to get bent
over and fucked on the spot.
“Yes, Daddy?”
Ben swears under his breath and gestures for his friends to move aside, to make way for me. “You
have ten seconds to get inside the fucking house and put those eggs away,” he says. “Ten… nine…”
With no time to waste, I rush to do as I’m told. I’m putting the last of the eggs into their cartons, as
the cabin door is shut and Ben’s heavy boots scuff across the floor toward me.
He didn’t even take off his boots? His feathers are definitely ruffled.
I turn to face him, and roll my T-shirt back down when I see his stormy face. “Daddy?”
“Why didn’t you take the basket?” His voice is rough and low, and I tremble on the spot.
“I was in a hurry, and I forgot it. I wanted to get my chores done fast, so there might be time to get
some attention before you left on the hunt. Are you angry, Daddy?”
“Am I angry?” He advances until he’s standing so close my hard nipples brush against his lower
chest. “Am I angry that my friends saw your gorgeous tits, while cum dripped from your sweet young
pussy to coat your thighs? Am I angry they heard you call me Daddy, so they know I’m the big man of
the house who fucks your pretty little cunt?”
I still can’t tell if he’s mad or horny, so I don’t meet his gaze directly. If he’s mad, it’d be bad
manners, and I don’t want to disrespect him. I live for his love and approval, and this whole situation
has got my blood pumping with the need to please him. I’m desperately excited, and I’m not even sure
why.
I haven’t felt this kind of edgy giddiness since I came here to beg him to take my virginity — when
I showed him what I wanted and then had to wait, for him to proceed. Ben likes things done a certain
way. His way. The way that leaves me feeling cherished and deeply satisfied. Always.
I swallow hard and take a step back, before getting down on my hands and knees. I keep my gaze
low and my ass high. “Will you spank me, Daddy?”
“Why? Do you want Daddy to make your sweet, juicy cunt throb, Maggie?”
“Yes.”
Ben kneels next to me and slowly pushes my skirt up over my ass. The brush of his rough hands
sets my skin shivering until every hair on my head is tingling in anticipation.
“Do you think Daddy wants to punish you or pleasure you, baby girl?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, squeezing my thighs together as I tilt my hips, to display myself for him.
“Both?”
 Ben gives a long, low rumble, and I’m pretty sure it means he agrees.
He runs the flat of his hand over my ass and my creamed pussy, spreading his cum and my juices.
He gives me a short, sharp slap over the mess, and heat blooms on my needy flesh as I squirm. Ben
knows how to make me want more.
“Daddy.”
“Did you like showing your tits to my friends, Maggie?”
“I didn’t know that I…” My defense dies on my lips. I did know my shirt was barely covering me.
I just wasn’t expecting an audience. “I didn’t mean to show them, Daddy.”
He gently strokes over the warmth his slap left on my skin, making it thrum with sensation. “I
didn’t ask if you meant to, Maggie. I asked if you liked it.”
My hips shift in a restless sway, and I lower my head as I feel my face warming as much as my
ass. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Ben takes his hand away, and I’m left feeling cold and abandoned.
“Yes.” I whisper the confession, hoping to feel his touch again.
He runs his big hand down my back and pushes two thick fingers into my pussy. “I know you
loved it, baby girl. There’s no point in trying to hide it, when you’re wetter than I left you.”
He pulls out his fingers and delivers another swift slap to my pussy, just the way I like it — a
reward for telling the truth.
I slide against his hand, as my pussy starts to pulse, and I know he’s right. I’m soaked.
“Did you like them knowing your pretty cunt was full of cum?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
The impact of another perfectly placed spank sends me forward, but I get back into position
quickly, greedy for his touch.
“You want me to fill it some more?” he asks.
I spread my legs wider, to brace for an approach from behind. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Mmm…” Ben plays his slippery fingers through my pussy and fondles my clit with expert
precision. “Do you want them to know I’ve spanked you?” He slides his hand down my ass, until it
rests on the back of my upper left thigh, where his hand print will surely be visible marking my skin
below the short hem of my skirt.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I’m given three in a row — one on each thigh, and the last on my clit.
Sensation zings through my core, and I pull tight as Ben mounts me.
He forces his massive cock inside me in one swift thrust, stretching me till I’m gasping. “Daddy.”
“That’s my girl. Nice and tight,” he grunts, pumping his fat cock in and out of me. “You were so
fucking cute out there, gushing over Gunnar’s fucking baby. Makes me want to put one inside you.”
My pussy clamps around him, and he moans.
“Is that what you want, sweet girl? You want a baby?”
I tense and don’t answer. Don’t even let myself think about it. Ben can’t have kids, and I won’t
ever let him think he’s not enough for me. He’s plenty. He’s everything.
“Answer me, Maggie. Do you want to grow a baby in this gorgeous and fertile young body? You
want to feed a baby at your breast? Want to make me an actual daddy?”
My pussy automatically squeezes his cock at the idea he’s sown in my mind, but I shake my head
and try not to think of what a wonderful father he’d be, and how my pussy would gush if I saw him
with a baby in his loving arms. “No, Daddy.”
His growl is low and rough, and he thrusts into me harder and faster. “Lying girls don’t get to
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 "No sattuupa nyt kummia", sanoi hän. "Nyt juuri herratar – ei
maaherra – on tarjonnut minulle laulutunteja. Kyllä he sanovat oikein
kotona, kun väittävät, että Tunturihiiri on kuin kissa, hän putoaa aina
jaloilleen."

"Te tulette luonnollisesti meille", sanoi Per Borting varmasti.

"Ellette mieluummin valitse – Veyeriä", lisäsi hän pisteliäästi.

"Niin, teille minä mieluummin tahdon", sanoi Petra iloisesti, mutta

sitten hän vaikeni ja seisoi hetken ääneti.

"Ei", sanoi hän päättäväisesti. "Minulla on paikka täällä. Ja kun

hän tahtoo pitää minut luonaan tänä talvena, niin minun täytyy
jäädä hänen luokseen. Etenkin nyt, kun hän on suruissaan ja yksin.
Niin, sillä Veyer, hän matkustaa pois. Ulkomaille. Ja ajatelkaa, hän on
muuttanut mieltään niin, että hän nyt pitää minusta, luullakseni, –
vaikka minä nostin hänet ilmaan ihastuksissani. Eikä hän
varmaankaan ole tottunut siihen. Niin että ei kiitos. Minun täytyy
kyllä jäädä tänne."

Per Borting ei sanonut mitään. Mutta hänen avoimet

pojankasvonsa ilmaisivat niin selvästi, mitä hän ajatteli, että sanat
olivatkin aivan tarpeettomia.

"Mutta keväällä. Silloin kai te asutte kotona. Silloin minä tulen

teille, ja silloin te ja minä istumme lammen luona, kun toiset
nukkuvat päivällisuntaan – niin, ja sitten teidän äitinne ja minä
laulamme yhdessä", lisäsi hän.

"Tuhat kiitosta", sanoi Per Borting onnellisena. Sillä Petrahan oli

ensin ajatellut lampea ja häntä ja sitten vasta laulua ja äitiä. Ja
olihan hän, Borting, kaupungissa talvella – ja Veyer aikoi matkustaa
pois.

Mutta Petra meni keittiöön Jennyn luo.

"On kai hirveän syntistä olla iloinen, kun täällä on suru", sanoi
hän, "mutta minä en voi sille mitään. Minä olen sellainen onnen
porsas, Jenny."

"Vai niin, se kesakkoinenko se sitten lopulta olikin", vastasi Jenny

ja alkoi hihittää.

*****

Lumi pyrysi ristiin rastiin raskaalta, valkean harmaalta taivaalta ja

laskeutui valkeaksi, utuiseksi kanneksi sen harmaan peitteen ylitse,
joka vielä oli maassa viime lumisateen jälkeen. Oli niin pimeää, että
lyhdyt ulkona vielä paloivat, vaikka kello oli melkein kymmenen
aamulla.

Oli kaksi päivää ennen jouluaattoa.

Petra seisoi nenä matkakirstussa ja järjesteli tavaroitaan.

Maaherratar ilmestyi ovelle.

"Tässä minulla on joululahja – jos ehkä tahdotte käyttää sitä

matkalla", sanoi hän ja ojensi Petralle pienen käsilaukun.

"Voi tuhannet kiitokset", sanoi Petra ja aukaisi sen. Sen sisässä oli
neliskulmainen punainen seteli.

"Te olette unohtanut tämän", sanoi hän ja ojensi sen Letta rouvaa
kohti.
 "Se on teidän. Voitte kai käyttää sen ostoksiinne", sanoi
maaherratar.
"Tehän olette itse voittanut sen, muistattehan."

Petra seisoi silmät selällään.

"Sata kruunua. Minä luulen, että olette hullu. Sillä te olisitte voinut
ostaa joululahjoja puolelle kaupunkia. Ja te, joka sitäpaitsi olette
antanut minulle koko laulun."

Ja ennenkuin maaherratar ehti äännähtääkään, lensi laukku

matkakirstuun ja hän itse oli Petran sylissä kuin pihtien puristamana.

"Te olette kovin väkevä", oli ainoa, minkä hän sanoi, kun taas
pääsi irti. Ja sitten hän hymyili.

Maaherratar oli oppinut hymyilemään aivan kuin muutkin ihmiset.

Aluksi se ei ikäänkuin sopinut hänen kasvoihinsa, mutta nyt se jo oli
siinä aivan kuin paikoillaan.

Niin sanoi myöskin vanha tohtori Sonderberg, kun hän tuli

tavalliselle viikkokäynnilleen enemmän ystävänä kuin lääkärinä.

"Te olette opettanut herrattaren hymyilemään, te pieni", – sanoi

tohtori Sonderberg.

Mutta Petra nauroi ja sanoi, että asianlaita varmaankin vain oli

niin, että herratar oli unohtanut sen joksikin aikaa, kun hänellä oli
ollut niin paljon ikävyyksiä ja suruja. Sillä kaikki ihmiset ovat toki
syntyneet sellaisiksi, että osaavat hymyillä.

Maaherratar hymyili. Ja hän hymyili vielä enemmän, kun Petra veti

esiin koruompelun ja sanoi:
 "Ja tässä on minun joululahjani teille. Se on salvetti. Mutta tuo
yksi kulma minun pitää ommella, kun tulen takaisin. Minulta
koruompelu sujuu niin hitaasti, sillä se on minusta niin tympäisevää
työtä."

"Kiitos. Minä luulen melkein, että pidän salvetin tällaisenaan,

Petra,
Näin se on aivan te itse", hymyili herratar. "Te olette hyvin kiltti.
Se on varmaankin tuottanut teille monta ikävää hetkeä."

"Niin on", hymyili Petra avomielisesti. "Minun lahjojeni

omituisuutena on muuten, etteivät ne koskaan ole valmiita, sillä
kotona minä aina keksin niin paljon tekemistä ulkosalla. Tässä on se
lahja, jonka olen aikonut Veyerille. Minun olisi pitänyt koristaa se
koruompelulla – se on tarkoitettu liiveiksi. Mutta eikö se teistäkin ole
yhtä sievä ilman koruompelua? Tai melkein ainakin?"

"Aivan yhtä sievä", vastasi Letta rouva vallan vakavana. "Vaikka

luulenkin, että Vilhelm olisi pannut erikoista arvoa pariin teidän
kätenne tekemään neulanpistokseen, niin hän kyllä tulee iloiseksi
nähdessään, että te yleensä olette ajatellut häntä. Hänelle
varmaankin on oleva suuri pettymys, ettette ole kotona hänen
palatessaan."

"Kyllä varmaankin", sanoi Petra hyvillään.

"Ettekö voisi odottaa huomiseen, niin voisimme joka tapauksessa

syödä aikaisen päivällisen yhdessä hänen kanssaan."

"Minä olen luvannut ylioppilas Bortingille matkustaa yhdessä

hänen kanssaan. Hänen vanhempansahan asuvat nyt meidän
pappilassamme. Ja minun veljeni matkustaa samalla kertaa."
 Maaherratar kävi vakavaksi. Hän istuutui.

"Kuulkaa nyt, pikku Petra", sanoi hän. "Te tiedätte, että minä
sanon suoraan, jos jokin ei minua miellytä. Enkä minä pidä siitä
tavasta, millä te kohtelette molempia näitä nuoria ihmisiä. Tehän
olette vain lapsi ettekä ajattele kihlausta ettekä muuta sellaista, –
mutta on sääli näitä kahta poikaa, paitsi sitä ettei se myöskään ole
aivan sopivaa. Toisen kanssa olette niin innokkaassa kirjevaihdossa,
että – että – en tiedä mitä – ja –"

"Minusta on niin hienoa saada kirjeitä ulkomailta", puolustautui

Petra.
"Sitäpaitsi se on hauskaa."

"Ja toisen kanssa te käytte konserteissa ja kävelette, ja nyt te

matkustatte kotiinkin hänen kanssaan", jatkoi maaherratar
tyytymättömänä. "Minun mielestäni se ei ole oikein. Minun mielestäni
teidän pitäisi antaa toisen heistä tietää, että te pidätte enemmän
toisesta."

"Niin, mutta se olisi toisesta ikävää. Enkä minä tiedä, kuka on

toinen", sanoi Petra. "Minä pidän hirveän paljon kumpaisestakin –
aina sen mukaan, kenen kanssa olen yhdessä."

"Niin niin. Olkaa vain varovainen, lapsi kulta", sanoi maaherratar

leppyneenä ja nousi paikaltaan. "Joka tapauksessa sekä Vilhelm että
minä kaipaamme teitä kovasti jouluna."

"Sepä hauskaa", vastasi Petra ilosta säteillen.

*****
 Lunta tuprutteli yhä tiheämmin ja tiheämmin. Oli mahdotonta
eroittaa muuta vaununikkunasta kuin yksityisiä pieniä kaukaisia
valoja, jotka välähtivät esiin pimeästä ja katosivat yhtä nopeasti.
Kattolamppu loisti himmeästi ja leimuellen, juna jyskytteli eteenpäin.
Mutta kolme matkustajaamme ei huomannut mitään siitä, mikä
heidän ympärillään tapahtui. Pappila ulkopuoleltaan ja pappila
sisäpuoleltaan oli kaiken aikaa puheenaiheena, niin että Per Borting
vihdoin sanoi, että siellä hän nyt osaisi liikkua vaikka sokeana.

Hämäristä saakka oli ilma selkeää, ja kun juna iltamyöhällä

pysähtyi vanhalle tutulle asemalle, hohtivat tähdet niin kirkkaina,
että köyhät vilkkuvat rautatielyhdyt näyttivät vieläkin kurjemmilta ja
nolommilta kuin muuten.

"Tunturihiiri", kaikui Finnin ääni, "onko sinulla uudet suksirakset

minulle, niinkuin lupasit?" Ja rakennuksen takana ravistelivat hevoset
kulkusiaan, joiden ääni kaikui kumahdellen ja sitten äkkiä lakkasi
kuulumasta.

"Se on Musta. Se nykii aina noin, kun se on sidottuna", sanoi Petra

ja kiiti läpi lumen kahden ison reen luo.

Toisessa istui turkkeihin kääritty herra.

"Isä."

Petra lensi hänen kaulaansa, puristeli häntä ja suuteli häntä

ainoaan paljaaseen paikkaan – nenälle.

"No. Ei ole vaikeaa arvata, kuka te olette, sydämellinen nuori

neiti", sanoi naurunsekainen ääni turkin sisästä. "On luonnollista,
että erehdyitte, sillä ovathan sekä hevonen että reki vanhoja
tuttujanne."

"Ai! Anteeksi", sanoi Petra ällistyneenä. Mutta sitten hän nauroi ja

käänsi taas päänsä turkkia kohti.

"Sitäpaitsi minä olen tottunut suutelemaan tämän pitäjän pappia."

"Toivon, ettette luovu siitä tavasta, pikku ystävä. Per'in isänä toki
minäkin voinen vaatia vähän ystävyyttä. Toivomme, että saamme
ilon nähdä teidät kaikki meillä ensimmäisenä joulupäivänä. – No,
hyvää päivää ja tervetuloa, poikani."

"Tunturihiiri! Täällä on Musta. Jouduhan vähän", vinkui Finn.

"Herman jo istuu reessä."

Tunturihiiri tuli hyppien. Per Borting seurasi perässä ja kääri hänet

vällyihin.

Pari minuuttia myöhemmin reet lähtivät nytkähtäen liikkeeseen.

Kulkuset soivat tahdikkaasti ja kaviot kapsahtelivat. Ensi
tienhaarassa erottiin.

"Hyvästi ja tervetuloa."

"Huomenna", huusi Per.

Petra istui kasvot ylöspäin käännettyinä, onnellisena ja turvallisena

äitinsä vanhassa tutussa turkissa.

"Tähdet loistavat aivan toisella tavalla täällä kuin kaupungissa",

sanoi hän.
 Joen rannalla olevan pienen valkean rakennuksen kaikki ikkunat
olivat valaistut. Portailla seisoi Maren, kädet kudotun kaulahuivin
alla. Hän oli vielä harmaampi ja ryppyisempi ja vinompi kuin miksi
Petra hänet muisti. Hän käänsi Petran kasvot käytävän lamppua
kohti.

"Enkö minä jo arvannut. Paljon laihempi eikä yhtä ruskea. Niin, se

kaupunki!" sanoi hän harmissaan.

Pappi tunnusteli hapuillen Petraa toisella kädellä ja piti toisella

Hermanista kiinni.

"Lapsi kultani. Rakas pikku Tunturihiiri", sanoi hän. Hän vapisi,

eivätkä silmät enää nähneet mitään. Hän oli paljon vanhentunut.

"Voi isä, miten sinä olet käynyt – kauniiksi", sanoi Petra, mutta
hänen äänensä ei ollut niin varma, että hän olisi uskaltanut sanoa
sen enempää hetken aikaan.

Hän juoksi läpi talon – kaikki oli tarkastettava.

"Huonekalut ovat muuttuneet niin isoiksi minun mielestäni", sanoi

hän Marenille, joka uskollisesti seurasi häntä eikä voinut katsella
häntä kyllikseen.

"Niin, näetkös, pappilan suojathan olivat avarammat. Mutta näitä

voikin paljon paremmin pitää puhtaina", sanoi Maren.

Petra seisoi pienen ullakkohuoneensa ikkunan luona ja riisuutui.

Puiden latvojen takaa hän näki pappilan valot. Hän seisoi kauan
katsellen niitä.
 "Paikkoja ikävöi melkein enemmän kuin ihmisiä", huokasi hän ja
veti uutimen alas.

Hän heräsi siihen, että Maren laski halkosylyksen jymisten lattialle

ja alkoi panna puita uuniin.

"Niin hyvin kai sinä et ole nukkunut, sitten kun menit kaupunkiin?"
kysyi hän.

"Minä nukun kaikkialla, Maren", sanoi Petra.

"Hoh, niin sinä varmaankin vain luulet", sanoi Maren, jonka

epäluulo kaikkea vastaan, mikä kantoi kaupungin nimeä, oli syvälle
juurtunut.

Petra makasi katsellen tulen leimuelevaa heijastusta seinällä. Uusi

öljytty seinä. Ikävä seinä. Hän muisti vanhoja harmaita
seinäpapereita, joille keltaiset sadetahrat muodostivat kuvioita,
kukon ja miehen, joka ratsasti katon harjalla. Ja reikää, jonka läpi
raontäyte näkyi. Petra muisti varsin hyvin, että hän itse oli tehnyt
sen nähdäkseen, mitä paperin alla oli – kauan, kauan sitten.

Ja äkkiä pieni ruskea pää pujahti peitteen alle. Peite hytkähteli ja

sen alta kuului tukahdutettua nyyhkytystä.

*****

"Ei, minä en tahdo sinua mukaan, Finn."

Petra seisoi sovitellen suksia jalkaansa heti päivällisen jälkeen.

"Se on hävytöntä. Rakset ovat jo suksissa. Katso vain", sanoi Finn

innokkaasti.
 "Sinä voit mennä Hermanin kanssa. Minä tahdon mennä yksin",
sanoi Petra ja hiihti tiehensä.

"Petra on muuttunut niin tyttömäiseksi", sanoi Finn suutuksissaan

Hermanille. "Nyt hän tahtoo mennä yksin kuin täysikasvuinen
ainakin."

Kuivaa lunta putoili hiljalleen. Se rapisi puissa ja pisteli Petraa

kasvoihin, kun hän hiihti jokea pitkin. Hän meni maantien poikki,
niityn yli ja pappilaan kuuluvan kivikon läpi.

Ison koivun luona hän pysähtyi, taputti runkoa ja nyökäytti

päätään katsellen ylös kuiviin riippuviin oksiin. Sitten hän hiihti
eteenpäin lampea kohti. Sukset liukuivat kahisten runkojen lomitse.
Oli niin hiljaista, että hän kuuli, miten lumi putoili.

Lampi oli lumen peitossa, ainoastaan hiukan maata alempana.

Kuivia kaisloja ja korsia pisti esille sen ympärillä.

Petra meni vähän syrjään ja jäi katselemaan pappilaa, joka kohosi

siinä valkeana ja rauhallisena molempine ikkunariveineen ja näytti
ikäänkuin kuuluvan yhteen puhtaan uuden lumen kanssa. Hän seisoi
hetkisen ja katseli.

Sitten hän palasi takaisin, kiersi lammen ympäri ja pysähtyi taas

tuijottamaan kauas entisiin aikoihin. Ja lumi putoili hiljalleen ja
tiheään ja kasaantui valkeaksi huipuksi hänen lakkiinsa ja pieniksi
valkeiksi tyynyiksi hänen olkapäilleen.

Suhahti läpi lehdon.

Notkea olento ilman lakkia, yllään ainoastaan tavalliset

sisävaatteet, hiihti alaspäin liian pienillä suksilla. Hän kiepahti Petran
rinnalle.

"Minä ymmärsin, ette te aioitte mennä lammelle. Minä näin teidän

hiihtävän koivikkoon ja silloin sieppasin renkipojan sukset ja livahdin
perästä. No, mitä te pidätte uudesta kodistanne? Minä olen
mielestäni melkein kuin rikoksentekijä, kun asun pappilassa."

"Se ei ole mikään koti. Nyt vielä", sanoi Petra. "Sellaiset

tornihuvilat leikeltyine kuistikkoineen ovat ruminta, mitä tiedän. Ne
näyttävät yhtä uusilta aina siihen hetkeen saakka, jolloin ne
hajoavat. Niillä ei ikäänkuin ole mitään kasvoja. Vain siksi, että
minun ihmiseni asuvat siellä, on tämä talo toisenlainen kuin muut
rumat talot. Ovat sellaiset asiat kuitenkin omituisia. Siksi vain, että te
nyt asutte pappilassa, olette te jotain muuta kuin tavallinen ystävä."

Per Borting kävi hehkuvan punaiseksi.

"Jotain muuta kuin tavallinen ystävä? Mitä sitten, Petra?"

"Mitä? Niin, sitä minä en tiedä", vastasi Petra ikäänkuin hyvin

kaukaa. "Tiedättekö", lisäsi hän äkkiä vilkkaasti. "Herratar sanoi
eilen, että on väärin, että minä pidän sekä teistä että Vilhelm
Veyeristä. Mutta nyt minä hyvin tiedän, että te olette ainoa, jonka
soisin asuvan täällä – jonka kanssa tahtoisin pitää kaikkea tätä
yhteisenä."

"Petra", sanoi hän vain.

Hänen silmänsä syttyivät. Hän olisi niin kernaasti sulkenut Petran

syliinsä, mutta hän ei uskaltanut säikäyttää häntä.

Petra sai tulla itsestään, kun hänen hetkensä oli tullut. Per Borting
tiesi nyt voittaneensa niin paljon kuin oli voitettavissa. Vastaiseksi.
 *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIKKU PETRA ***

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