El Rancho del Corazón
9 Load-In
AT NOON, Carl, Brenda, Louise, and Sora arrived. We all piled into my car and headed to Bloomington to take Rhiannon back to Doug and Doreen. Casa de la Tierra wanted to see the foundation for their house.
“How’s the packing coming?” I asked Carl. He never got a word in as Brenda and Louise excitedly went on and on about all they were taking to their new house.
“Did anyone think about getting a big bed?” Sora asked. That started another round as they described the California King waterbed they were planning to install.
The foundation slab was set and we could walk around on it while Rhiannon chalked outlines of where rooms would be. With no walls, the place looked spectacularly huge. We were all excited about it. Doug got Carl’s and my attention. He motioned us over by the construction trailer.
“What’s up?” I asked. Doug pointed to the top of the electric pole. There was a huge light on it. “Streetlights?” I asked.
“Flood light,” Doug responded. “I’ve gotta tell you guys, it’s kind of spooky out here. We’ve lived in a rural area all our lives, but out here you can’t even see the neighbors over the hill. It’s so quiet and so dark that it’s no wonder that no one saw the fire until it was too late to save the house. Not to mention the fact that the volunteer fire department is five miles away. We’re actually closer to a city fire station, but they don’t come out to a country fire unless needed for reinforcements. Your dad talked to Ron this weekend. He had a crew come out and install this light with a motion sensor on it. It’s got a pretty good angle on the driveway, but if someone came in over by the fence, it wouldn’t trigger the light.”
“That was a good idea. It bothers me, though, that you guys are out here alone. There should be more of us staying here,” I said.
“It will be better when the house is ready and Carl’s casa is here, too,” Doug said. “Sunday night with just Doreen and me was pretty spooky.”
“I’ve got nothing going on this week,” Carl said. “I’d have to go to town and get a few things, but I’ll bet if Brenda and Louise went back with Brian and Sora tonight, they could drive back tomorrow with a couple suitcases for us.” Doug nodded.
“We can rotate someone else in this weekend in Dad’s camper if you want,” I offered. “This is one of those times when I wish there were more guys in our clan.”
We set up a tentative schedule and I drove Sora, Brenda, and Louise back home.
“Can we stay tonight?” Brenda asked.
Oh boy.
On Wednesday, we all sang Happy Birthday to Courtney. She was nineteen. All of Casa de la Tierra and Casa del Agua were at the ranch and neither Elaine nor Sarah was able to be with us, but the other thirteen of our casa celebrated for a long time that night. Part of the celebration included giving Courtney her birthday spanking. Her little bottom was bright red by the time we were finished, but she’d come three times on my cock and twice on Jennifer’s tongue before we quit. She handed me the jar of arnica.
“Butt cream?” she pled. She settled into bed next to me and basically purred the whole time I applied the soothing salve. I hadn’t been forceful in my spanking, but nineteen strokes is still a lot for a little girl’s bottom to take. I would never do it if she didn’t make it obvious how much she liked it. I’ll probably never understand.
Everyone wanted to be onsite for the delivery of the bunkhouse the next week. We were all up at four-thirty, eating, dressing, and packing as much as we could. Dad had left the camper at the ranch when he and the moms had gone down. I had the big tent in the back of the Suburban along with all the gear we could stow that was necessary for a few days onsite.
By five-thirty, I had Rose snuggled up beside me, and Whitney snoozing next to Sora in the backseat as we headed south. Samantha had promised to bring Hannah, Jennifer, and Courtney down to Indy on Saturday. Josh, Cassie, and Mary had jobs and couldn’t leave until Thursday afternoon. We were all crazy excited.
The crane arrived first. A massive flatbed was sitting out on the road where they unloaded. Sheriff Donaldson had a deputy stationed out at the intersection, half a mile away, where the trucks would have to make the turn. They’d scouted the route and the drivers all agreed they could make it, but it would be tight. Ron, our contractor, had beefed up our entry and widened it so the trucks could make the turn into the property. They’d carefully reconstructed the driveway with a good bed of gravel that was well-packed. All of us who arrived had to park on the far side of the barn to make sure everything was clear for the delivery. There was a lot of talk on CB radios as they figured out exactly where the trucks would stop, where the crane would take over, and how they would get them turned around and out. The combined size of the bunkhouse duplex was only 1,800 square feet. Each side would sleep three to six people, depending on how they doubled up in the three bedrooms. Each had two full baths, a kitchen, and a great room.
The first truck arrived just after we did. It contained two kitchens, four bathrooms and two master bedrooms. The units in the duplex each had half of the module. The finished units would be thirty feet square—almost the same as the original footprint of the burned farmhouse. As soon as the truck was in position, the crane swung over the top of it and the crew was all over the place. People were fastening straps to the hoist while others were releasing bolts holding the module to the flatbed. In half an hour they were ready to lift. The crew fussed and fidgeted at the positioning for at least an hour with the crane moving back and forth a fraction at a time while the guys guided the house down to its anchors. The house came down so gently that I didn’t even realize it was all the way down until I saw the lines go slack. A cheer went up from the crew and they started disconnecting the straps to slide them out through the grooves beneath the structure.
“That’s my kitchen!” Brenda yelled as she leapt into my arms. I looked around and realized she couldn’t leap into Carl’s arms because they were full of a squirming Louise. Brenda dropped to the ground after giving me a thorough mouth-washing. She met Rhiannon half-way to me and gave her as big a smooch as I’d received. Then Rhiannon jumped on me as Brenda was hoisted on Carl. Louise and Doug were already up on the foundation looking all through the open rooms in front of them. It was the first I noticed that Sandy was going through the house with them. It was nice that she came out for the load-in. This was one happy crew.
Mr. Schroyer intercepted Rhiannon as she was headed to join the others, and she gave him a big hug. He handed her a hardhat and led her over to meet the guys who were already busy connecting the electric, sewer, and plumbing lines.
Before long, people were pulling out lunchboxes and thermoses for lunch. We had our own lunches packed and sat in the kitchens on the floor to eat them, just to say it was the first meal in their new homes. The building inspector checked all the interior work, signed off on some kind of permit and said he’d be back before five.
About one o’clock, the second truck arrived. The process was pretty much the same except that instead of needing to match the pipes and connections with the foundation, it had to perfectly match the other half of the house. This section contained four bedrooms and two living rooms. It also had all the kitchen appliances ready to be moved into the other half when everything was connected. They jockeyed it around until everyone was satisfied, Mr. Schroyer finally giving the nod to release the lines.
That wasn’t the end of the process. The finish guys stormed the interior, fastening anchors, moving appliances, and connecting the electrical lines from one half of the house to the other. They were already bolting the sections together, taping the joints, and putting plaster on them while the final connections were being made.
Outside, the placement crew had to raise the roof. So cool! In just a little operation—taking about an hour—the whole place suddenly looked like a house. It was amazing. The roof crew scrambled over the top, checking the seal of every shingle along the seam and then installing the ridge cap at the peak. The building inspector got there about four o’clock. People were still scrambling all over doing last bits of finish work, and the electric company was there to connect the power lines.
Mr. Schroyer followed the inspector around making notes on a clipboard and occasionally calling a worker over to correct something. Not all the things being corrected were things the inspector pointed out. Mr. Schroyer was checking things on his own list. Rhiannon was following him around in a yellow hardhat and reflective vest. The rest of us had to stay clear of the construction site.
It was about five-thirty when the building inspector walked out the door of the right-hand unit and made a comment about the temporary stairs. Ron was right there with the next permit that would put a small covered porch in front of each door and stairs that were permanent. The inspector nodded, signed a paper and handed it to Mr. Schroyer. He, in turn, called Carl, Louise, Brenda, Doug, Rhiannon, and Doreen—who had just arrived from work—and handed Rhiannon the certificate of occupation and keys to both duplexes. There was another hug-a-thon going on as the crew packed up and by six o’clock everyone was gone except our clan and Ron.
“I’ve got a crew that will do the front porches and steps tomorrow,” he said. “When those are done, we’ll do another walkthrough. Are you all planning to stick around for the weekend?” Ron asked us.
“Through the weekend for most of us. We’re going to help the two families move into their new homes. Then they’ll be here pretty much full time,” I said. “Ron, could I buy an hour of your time tomorrow?”
“Technically, you are already paying for it,” Ron laughed. “Let’s make an appointment for ten o’clock. Okay?” I nodded. “I want to thank you all, as well,” he said. “Our introduction to Nappanee Manufactured Housing has been a good one. I was skeptical because we always stick build houses. This one went up without a problem. I’ve started discussions with Schroyer about opening a sales office down here and building a development of the houses. We might want to talk to Miss Harris about doing some designs for us.”
We all cheered and Ron climbed in his truck. He waved as he was pulling out.
“What do you think, honey?” I asked Hannah in my head. I’d crept out of the camper at four-thirty, unable to sleep. I was wandering around the barn with a flashlight and talking to her like I did every morning. “It’s big enough. It’s at least fourteen feet up to the open beams. That’s a higher ceiling than the house had. We’ve got support posts to work around, but I think they’d just add to the atmosphere. We could divide the space any way we wanted to. Heck, we could even make bedrooms in the loft. What would you think about a big open staircase and a formal entry? There are already windows along both sides. How about a big stone fireplace along that wall with tall windows next to it?”
“It’s a little more rustic than I imagined, but I can almost see what you’re saying,” a voice came back to me. Rose had slipped into the barn with me. “I like the idea of turning the loft into bedrooms. Or maybe just one big bedroom. Could we afford this better than rebuilding the house?” I pulled her to me and wrapped an arm around her. She’d pulled a T-shirt on before she got out of the camper.
“I was just dreaming,” I said.
“No. You were just talking to Hannah,” Rose giggled. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Well, I guess I did. I wanted to find out what had you thinking this morning.”
“Do I leave you out, Rose? When I talk to Hannah in the morning?”
“No, honey. I was worried a couple years ago when I wasn’t sure you loved me. I’m so glad that most mornings you actually have her to talk to now. I just thought maybe you’d say hi for me.”
“Remember when I got beat up in eighth grade? That’s when I started talking to her. At first it was just to whisper a little prayer for her safety or to thank her for delivering my papers. Then I just kept doing it—even after we broke up. We always called it our special time together.”
“Does she ever talk back to you?”
“Sometimes. Not words. Strong feelings, you know?”
“Like?”
“Like, right now I have this overpowering urge to make love to you.”
“Well?”
There was very little in the barn. No furniture or beds or anything comfortable. But Rhiannon had a chair at her drafting table in Stall One. I led Rose to it and after a little trial and error, she managed to settle onto my cock as I sat in the chair. I kissed her and pulled her T-shirt off, suckling at her magnificent breasts. I lifted her and lowered her, unable to really thrust from my position. We managed just fine. Rose clamped her mouth over mine as her pussy did butterfly kisses down the length of my cock and I erupted in her.
We sat there, connected, and continued to kiss each other as we came down from our early-morning loving.
“You are not alone, Brian. I love you. Hannah loves you. All of us love you. If you think we can do this, we will follow you.”
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