Esther's Well: A BWWM Romantic Short Story

By Beth Kean

Love in the African bush. Esther’s Well, a BWWM Romance. 
Peter Ramsey, a British aid worker finds himself assigned to a special project far out in the Ugandan bush, a land trapped in the grasp of a crippling drought. Charged with managing a well drilling project he believes that he faces at most, 10 days of discomfort based in a rural village, but little does he know that the beautiful local girl assigned as his guide and translator may well change his life forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: PMO Publishing
• Release date: May 9, 2018

Beth Kean

Author of bestselling romance and erotica short stories.

Book preview

Kean

Copyright.

Layout Copyright © 2016 by PMO Publishing. Published 2016 by PMO Publishing. Ebook design by PMO Publishing. Cover art by PMO Publishing.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the authors permission.

Chapter 1

Cracked and hard baked red earth crumbled beneath her feet as Esther paused to adjust the water container balanced securely atop her head. An unforgiving sun beat down, the heat rising from the ground almost as strong as the rays that assaulted her face. But the resilient girl didn't bother with such basic hardships, not even hardship she acknowledged, more an inconvenient fact of life. Real hardship was the lack of water, the drought that had burned every blade of grass surrounding her rural village had raged for the better part of a year, the previous season the rains had failed, and as one, her community had dropped to their knees and prayed.

But their prayers had not been answered – Yet! she thought as she continued the daily trek, our Lord works in his own time... not ours, he will bring the rain when he is ready. Every day she made the long journey across the burning plains, her final destination, a tributary that flowed into the Ugandan stretch of the River Nile before it disappeared up into South Sudan on its journey north to the Egyptian city of Alexandria and the Mediterranean Sea.

Of course, even such basic geography would have baffled young Esther if she had ever considered giving such nonsense a seconds thought. Her life revolved around simple survival. Higher education, geography, psychology, philosophy, politics, none of these things mattered to her, and the pursuit of such knowledge she was happy to leave to those fortunate enough to know from where their next meal would come!

I finished school, what more is there! a statement that she made with pride, it was her greatest achievement, she had reached her goal, she didn't need to set another... higher! I can add up and take away, I can read and write, I speak English and Luganda... what more could I possibly need!

And in a way... her reasoning was sound. In the village she was considered an oddity, she had reached a level that few had ever dreamed existed, and she discovered her talents in demand as an elderly population found themselves forced into a world that they had never imagined could ever be when they had been Esther's age, they now faced a world of technology and computers, but most confusing and frightening, they faced the pale skinned aid workers who insisted on jabbering away in their strange language, a people who lived comfortably with their electronic gadgets and appeared to pity those who had limited knowledge of what they took for granted. Esther found herself in demand as a translator and general buffer, she could talk to the foreigners, she understood their language, she understood their customs.

It earns me a few extra shillings, she defended when accused of having a softer life than most, But those shillings don't help me to walk to the river, they don't make my land more fertile, they don't make my maize grow any stronger or faster, in every way I face the same hardships as everyone else here. But regardless of how carefully she explained, she still couldn't shake off the aura of privilege that followed her in the community.

They are being really unfair, she would sigh as she looked at the small wad of one thousand shilling notes that she had earned, I can't eat it... can I! Money equalled luxuries. But money can't buy water, and that's what I need most. Only the long trek satisfied that need, and there was no escape from that fact.

In addition to her alleged wealth Esther also stood out in her community for another eccentricity; at the advanced age of twenty three – she was still single and childless. Most girls in the village of a similar age had been married for as long as ten years, and birthed at least a couple of kids, yet Esther had rebelled. She had no shortage of suitors, so lack of opportunity had never been a factor, in fact, her stubborn resistance had been taken as a personal challenge by several of the villages more senior and important men, all considerably older than herself, one even fifty years her elder, yet Esther had never considered rejection on grounds of age alone. She couldn't explain, even to herself, she didn't know why she delayed, why she waited and retained her purity with such obstinate determination. Maybe God has a plan for me, she would tell herself, but I do know that when I meet the man that I will marry... I will know him instantly, I'm sure of that.

But that is not something to worry about right now.