Storiesonline.net ------- The Bad Bet by Lubrican Copyright© 2009 by Lubrican ------- Description: AJ just wanted a drink when he pushed past the sodbuster woman standing timidly outside of the saloon. But there was trouble inside that saloon and, like usual, he just couldn't manage to stay out of it. Within ten minutes he was running for his life and passing that same woman again, this time as he spurred his horse hard. The third time he crossed paths with the woman - well - they say the third time's the charm. Codes: MF mf cons reluc het hist inc 1st oral pett preg slow ------- ------- Chapter 1 July first, 1868, Abilene, Kansas Arabella Mortenson was thankful for the full bonnet that hid most of her blushing face. She was standing just outside the batwing doors of a saloon, closer than she'd ever been to such a den of iniquity in her thirty-one year life. That she was driven to come that close to such a place was proof that her need was dire. She needed to get her husband out of that saloon. He had gone in to get a drink, but had stayed much too long for that simple pursuit. She knew that meant he was gambling again. He'd been losing their money in games of chance for years. Before leaving for Kansas, they had lived in the house she'd inherited after her mother's death. She'd had a garden and had been able to barter laundry services for some beef each week, so they'd had food and a roof over their heads. She had to provide the food for the table, because Frank gambled away all his wages unless, after being paid, he came home first. She had learned to tolerate a bottle of whiskey in the house because the bottle was sometimes enough to lure him home on payday, giving her the opportunity to lift a few dollars from his pockets, before he'd be off to the saloon to gamble away the rest. Her first signal that something was terribly wrong had been when he started talking about going to the Kansas territory, where it was said a man could carve out a farm in the lush, fertile soil that lay under the prairie grass. Arabella was well aware that Frank Mortenson was a lazy man. She'd married him at the tender age of fifteen and, in the sixteen years since, had done ALL the work that got done around their house ... unless she was abed because of one of her "accidents." Frank had a mean streak in him too, particularly when he had been drinking and most certainly when he'd lost at cards or some other foolish game of chance. She often had to stay indoors until the bruises went away, so the neighbors wouldn't see them. Once she'd been laid up for weeks while a bone knit enough that it could bear weight. The thought that Frank would be willing to work hard enough even to hook a team up to a plow was laughable to Arabella. She came from a farm family and she knew how hard it would be to start from scratch in soil that had never felt the bite of the plow. She assumed the homesteading idea must be the result of some alcohol fogged conversation he'd had with some worthless gambler. Then one day he came home with a covered wagon. Almost frantically he'd told her to pack what would fit in the wagon, leaving room only for the two children, Becky and Frank Jr. What Arabella was unaware of was that her husband had borrowed money ... a lot of money. When he'd lost it all and been unable to pay it back, he sold the house quick, getting the two horses and wagon as part of the deal. Then he'd run from his debts. They'd picked up supplies along the way, including two oxen when he'd ruined the horses trying to put too much distance between them and the men he was sure were looking for him. And by the time they got to Abilene, Kansas two thirds of the pockets on his money belt were empty. Still, it might be enough for them to get a new start, if they were able to claim any land. Upon pulling into the bustling town of Abilene, Frank had stopped the wagon in front of the saloon. "I'm going to go get news," he'd said. "You stay here." "We don't have money to spend on whiskey, Frank Mortenson!" Arabella had protested. He'd answered her with a backhand to her right cheek. "Don't sass me, woman," he'd snarled. "I've been putting up with your whining for weeks and a drink will clear my ears of it. You wait here, and don't let your brats stray either." When he'd been gone for more than fifteen minutes, she'd known he was gambling with all they had left. She had to do something or they'd be penniless. Thus she'd been driven to stand perilously close to the entrance of a place she would normally have crossed the street to avoid. And not only was she standing there ... she was actually thinking about going inside. ------- Aloysius Julian Hobbs was footloose, fancy-free, eighteen years old, and had money in his pocket. There were probably a couple hundred cowboys within a few days travel who were just like him ... except most of them DIDN'T have money in their pockets. Aloysius, who began calling himself "AJ" after the second time his name got him laughed at by a grizzled cowpoke, and he got into a fight as a result, had just finished helping drive three thousand cattle up the Chisholm trail. Once he and fifteen other cowboys had herded the longhorns into the stock pens at the railhead of the Kansas Pacific Railway in Abilene, he'd been paid off by the trail boss and cut loose. He ambled down the dusty street, looking for a saloon where he might find a bath, a woman, and a meal consisting of something other than beef and beans, in that order. Not being the most patient of young men, he headed for the first one he saw. A wooden sign adorned with a picture of bull's head hung over the doors. A heavy Conestoga wagon that was loaded down with household goods and two kids, not that much younger than himself, was blocking his path. A girl, wearing a bonnet, with a load of fluffy brown curls hanging below the cloth was sitting on the wagon seat. Idly, he estimated her age at about fourteen or fifteen. A younger boy was leaning out of the back, peering around. AJ detoured around the wagon, wondering why anyone would want to haul all that stuff west and go through the pain and toil of trying to wrestle a living from the earth. He didn't understand sodbusters. As he mounted the boardwalk in front of the saloon, he saw a woman standing hesitantly at the batwing doors, peeking inside. Something about her drab gray dress and bonnet marked her in his mind as the mother of the kids in the wagon. He thought it was odd that a decent woman would be about to enter a saloon. He forgot about the family as he stepped past the sodbuster woman and pushed through the swinging doors of the drinking establishment. Had someone asked him where he was, he wouldn't have been able to name the place. This is not to say he wasn't aware of what was going on around him. But AJ automatically prioritized the information fed to his brain through his five senses. The name of the place just wasn't important. What WAS important was that the noise level was all wrong, for a place like this. There wasn't enough of it. And tension filled the place. That caught his attention instantly. He stopped in the darkened interior, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. He also dropped his left hand to the pistol that was canted forward, butt first, set up for a cross draw, and took the leather loop off the hammer of the pistol. He had no idea what was causing the tension he felt, but it was his nature to be ready when he smelled trouble. It didn't take him long to find that trouble. There was a card game going on at a table to his right, situated near the grimy windows through which the only light in the place was coming. It was still early enough that the bartender wouldn't light any lamps and waste precious oil. There were four men seated at that table. Three were nondescript men wearing hats. Two wore vests on top of the store-bought shirts they favored. Another wore a leather shirt that was fringed and dirty. The last wore homespun, and AJ knew instantly that he was the sodbuster who the family outside belonged to. What he was doing in a saloon playing cards while his family waited outside was a puzzle. The tension he had felt was coming from the table, and was being transmitted by the small crowd of maybe a dozen men who were standing around watching the game. Leather shirt was dealing and AJ saw immediately that he was dealing off the bottom of the deck. The cards he dealt from there went to the sodbuster. At first AJ thought he and the sodbuster were in cahoots, but as he watched it became clear that wasn't the case. AJ saw the things he'd been taught to look for in the three men who were playing the sodbuster — cheating the sodbuster, actually. Just about all the money on the table was evenly spread in front of the three men. The sodbuster had six coins left in front of him and he was sweating. AJ could see it running down the back of his neck, below the badly chopped hair above his collar. He was also sipping heavily at the whisky in the dirty glass to his right. While AJ watched, a saloon girl appeared at his shoulder, refilled the glass and faded back into the crowd. AJ knew she'd been told to do that by someone other than the sodbuster. Every saloon he'd ever been in was a pay as you drink kind of place. Since the sodbuster wasn't paying, that meant somebody else was. When the farmer picked up his cards, AJ saw two queens and two threes. Leather shirt had dealt him two pair on purpose. AJ shook his head and turned for the bar. If the sodbuster was stupid enough to get into a rigged game, then he would learn a hard lesson. AJ ordered whisky and savored the first few sips before knocking back the rest of the shot. He ordered another and was about to drink it too when the voices rose from behind him. "You KNOW that's all I got. You done TOOK the rest of my money from me. I NEED that money to make a go of things when I claim a homestead. You GOT to let me bet!" It was the sodbuster, who had been raised to the point that everything he had was in the pot. One of the vested men replied. "I raised you, and if you cain't see me then you got to fold. Them's the rules of the game, mister." "I got things in the wagon worth money. Let me put that up!" cried the sodbuster. He was frantic. AJ got up and moved toward the table. He could see, over the sodbuster's shoulder, that he had drawn another three. Holding a full house he was frantic to stay in the game. Leather shirt looked out of the window, toward the wagon. "Don't need no pots and pans." He spat tobacco juice on the floor. "That's a right purty girl up there on the seat, though. You could bet her if you want ter." He spat again and cackled. The other two men laughed. One of them leaned over and looked through the window, too. "She's a right tasty looking girl, she is." he said. "How's about you add her to the pot, farmer man." The sodbuster was at once angry ... and greedy. AJ could see it in his posture. And he could almost hear the gears turning in the man's head. He had a full house ... sure to win ... what could be the harm? He still didn't know he'd been dealt that hand on purpose. If he he'd known that, he would also have known that somebody else had a better hand, and that the whole purpose of the game had been to take his money. All of his money. And now it looked like they wanted the girl, too. "Don't take that bet, mister," AJ heard himself saying. He hated that about himself. He had a tendency to talk first and think later. It got him into trouble pretty regularly. Leather shirt looked up. "You shut yor trap, cowpoke. This ain't none of yor affair." The sodbuster had turned around and looked to see who had warned him. AJ saw in his eyes what he saw in a lot of farmer's eyes when they looked at a cowboy — derision. The man turned around. "You're on," he said. "My Becky and my last five dollars say I've got the winnin' hand." Leather shirt grinned. "Lay em down." One of the vests had folded earlier. The other one was still in and laid down a pair of jacks. The sodbuster threw down his full house with a yell and reached for the pile of money in the center of the table. "Not so fast there, farmer man," said leather shirt, with a mean grin. He flipped over his cards. There were four tens and an ace. It was deathly quiet for three split seconds and then there was a wail of anguish, followed closely by three men laughing. "Haul her in here, farmer man," said one of the vests. "We got us some lovin' to do!" He yelled over his shoulder. "Sydney? You still got a room free? Looks like we'll be needing it for three or four hours." His grin, when he turned back to the sodbuster, was malicious. AJ glanced at the bartender, to see what he'd do. Without even looking up from the glass he was polishing with a dirty rag, the man called out, "Cost you three times as much, if you're all gonna use her." The sodbuster was still staring at the cards. "NO!" he shouted. "A bet's a bet, farmer man," said the other vest. "Now git her in here. I've got an itch in my pants that needs scratchin'." "You were cheated, sodbuster." Again, AJ couldn't believe the words came out of his mouth. He had no call to get involved in this mess. But he'd seen the girl out on the wagon, and she'd reminded him of his sister. He hadn't seen his sister in four years, but he remembered her saucy disposition. If that girl out there had a saucy disposition, it would be gone in a very short time, most likely never to return, if these hard cases had their way with her. It got really quiet then, as three faces turned toward him and the crowd around the table split apart like they had practiced doing it a hundred times. Leather shirt stood up and looked at AJ. "I thought I told you to butt out." His hand drifted toward the holstered Army revolver on his hip. AJ sighed. One of these days he'd learn to mind his own business. But one thing he never did was back down once he'd made his stand. "You dealt him that hand off the bottom of the deck. I'm bettin' I'm not the only one who saw you do it either. You cheated him, plain and simple." There was no posturing. There were no verbal threats or warnings. There was only sudden movement, and there was a lot of it. People in the crowd made a mad dash to get away from the table, some of them leaping headlong, to land on the floor. The two vests stood up as one, their chairs falling backwards as all three reached for the revolvers in their holsters. The farmer pushed his chair back and prepared to stand up. Apparently unaware of the gunplay that was about to erupt, he was thinking about how to demand his money back. The only part of AJ that moved, initially, was his right arm. The extremely short and extremely violent gunfight would be described later by at least a half dozen patrons of the saloon who actually observed it. It was surprising, all in all, that their descriptions were actually quite similar in most of the important points. All agreed that the three men drew first. All agreed that if the farmer hadn't stood up, he wouldn't have been shot. And all agreed that the kid who had caused all the trouble was the fastest man with a gun any of them had ever seen. In fact, AJ's eyes sorted out all kinds of information in the split second it took him to reach across his body for his gun. Leather shirt's movements were the most practiced, so AJ shot him first, in the middle of the chest. His left hand came up and he fanned the hammer three times, once for the man in the middle, who took the bullet high, just below his Adams apple, and twice for the third man as he pulled the barrel back down. Both shots ended up within one inch of a button in the middle of the man's vest. Only the two men wearing vests had managed to get a shot off. One hit the farmer in the face; the other winged AJ's left arm. As the men went down, the sodbuster sat back down heavily and his head tilted back, his ruined and lifeless face staring up at the ceiling. The whole fight had lasted no more than three and a half seconds. AJ knew he was in trouble. He also knew it was highly unlikely that any of the other three men was still alive. His instinct had been to go for the heart. He'd seen the dusty impact of at least two of his slugs and, in any case, he knew he rarely missed. He'd practiced for hours until his muscle memory did it all for him ... even if he didn't think he'd actually ever shoot anybody. Like most young men, AJ performed his routine tasks surrounded by an invisible haze of fantasy, like smoke from a campfire. It wasn't wood smoke stinging his eyes now, though. A boy, who had been peeking through the doors of the saloon, began shrieking the news outside. AJ's instinct was to flee, and he gave in to that instinct as terror over what he'd just done sent fire to his muscles. The way out was clear, because the small crowd of watchers had exploded away from the danger. He ran past the woman who had been standing outside. She was now just inside the doors, her mouth open in a silent scream. AJ's boots thudded on the raised sidewalk outside the saloon and he leapt for the dusty street. Like any cowboy, he hated to walk anywhere, much less run, but he'd left his horse in the livery stable where it could get a pan of oats. That was clear down the street, and his shoulder blades pulled toward each other as he anticipated bullets flying toward his back. He couldn't stand the idea of going down shot in the back and, as he came level with the sodbuster's wagon, he whirled, realizing he only had two shots left and there would be no time to reload. But no one was boiling out of the saloon, eager to shoot down the murderer. There were a couple of faces there, peering out into the brightness of the sunlit street ... but no pursuit. Once again he turned and ran. He ran as hard as he'd ever run in his life. ------- Arabella had heard everything from her vantage point just inside the saloon doors. No one had noticed her slip in, because all attention was on the men at the table. She hadn't been able to see much, initially, but she'd heard everything. Her horror at hearing Frank bet her daughter's virginity had left her in a curious state of being frozen and weak-kneed at the same time. At the last moment when the crowd around the table had evaporated like mist in the sun, she had watched in horror as the gunfight erupted. In the few seconds that followed she saw Frank's face change shape as the bullet struck it. It was most likely her next actions were caused by the combination of what she'd been trying to get the courage to do originally, mixed with the shock and panic that zinged through her when she saw events play out. She'd been planning on going in there and taking the money in front of her husband off the table ... and damned with convention. What he had left was all they had, and she couldn't bear to see it all lost. That had given her the strength to start through the doors. Then she had heard her husband bet their daughter, and cold panic had left her unable to move. Her mind was, as yet, unable to deal with the processing of the immediate facts, so it settled on what she'd come in this place to do. The cowboy who had shot the three cheaters ran past her. Noise exploded in the room, and it freed Arabella's muscles. It was dark and, still in a panic, she ran to the table, scooped up bills and what coins she could. Part of her was shocked that she wasn't the only one grabbing for money. Horrified she ran back outside. The wagon was only yards away. She literally threw the money in the back of the wagon, where Frank Junior's wide eyed face was staring at her, and then continued to the front of the wagon where she fairly leapt to the top of the smaller front wheel and onto the seat. The brake wasn't set, and she picked up the reins and snapped them expertly, screaming "HEYAH!" at the top of her lungs. The startled oxen lunged in the traces, their hooves churning the dust, until the wagon creaked forward, and then gathered speed slowly. By the time they got to the edge of town, headed south, the wagon was lurching alarmingly and Arabella loosened the reins. She was crying now, babbling without thinking about what she'd seen and heard. Some part of her brain realized she was going to kill the team if she didn't slow them down. Becky was screaming "MAMMA!" over and over again. She didn't know what to do, and the reins dropped from lifeless fingers as she swooned. ------- Becky knew something bad had happened. When she'd seen her mother go to the saloon doors, it seemed as if she was suddenly dreaming. She couldn't believe it when Arabella had actually gone inside, and then shots had rung out. The handsome young cowboy Becky had seen looking at her only a few short moments ago came tearing out, followed soon after by her mother, who was also running, holding something to her chest. Then there had been the wild ride, with mamma screaming only half understood things and leaving her father behind. She was terrified of the wild lurching of the wagon as it went much too fast. When she saw her mother sway backwards and drop the reins, Becky dove for them herself, grasping the leather strips and tugging on them instinctively, to slow the team. The oxen bawled, tossing their heads. One looked sideways and Becky could see its eye rolling in excitement. "WHOA!" she called out. The team slowed a bit, and her mother came alive. "NO!" she shouted. "KEEP GOING!" Arabella had visions of a posse coming after them, saying she stole cash money, and putting her in jail. A horse thundered past them, the rider leaning forward and so low that it looked like he was lying down on the neck of the horse. Becky recognized the cowboy who had fled the saloon after the gunfire. He and his horse grew smaller, leaving a trail of dust that hung in the air. Becky had seen their team of horses killed by running them like this, and she ignored her mother's scream, slowing the team more, yelling "Whoa!" in softer tones as the team fell to a trot and then a fast walk. They were breathing hard already and foam flecked their mouths. Almost suddenly they adopted their usual routine, plodding gait, as they finally calmed. Arabella's control broke and she began sobbing as the impact of events reduced her to helplessness again. Over the next ten minutes Becky got bits and pieces of information from her mother. Frank Junior crawled over the load in the wagon, his face appearing above her, and he told her what he'd seen and heard. He had money gripped in his fist and waved it at his sister, telling him where he'd gotten it. She found out her father was dead, shot during a card game, but not by the cowboy who had fled past them. It came out in a disjointed and unbelievable fashion, at first, and her own adrenaline caused her to flick the reins and set the team at a trot again when she realized her mother had taken money from the table in the saloon, and expected pursuit. Ten more minutes refined the information into a narrative, of sorts, in Becky's mind, that explained what had happened, and why they were fleeing without seeing to her father's body. Most young women might have collapsed into the same uselessness that her mother was displaying, under the circumstances. But Becky had had to grow up much faster, in many ways, than other girls her age. She and Frank Jr. had been on the receiving end of her father's rages too ... many times. She had had to work hard in the garden and helping her mother collect, wash and return clothing to customers. Her hands were tough and red, like those of a much older woman. In truth of fact, she felt no remorse that her father was dead. There was, in fact, one bit of information that Becky did not pursue. One of the things her mother had screamed, initially, was "HE BET BECKY!" The girl, knowing it was a poker game, unconsciously inserted a comma into the sentence, making it into "He bet, Becky!" She would not realize the import of those few words, or the way she had interpreted them, until much later. But the pure fact is that it wouldn't really have made any difference. "It was OUR money, Mamma," she said, at length. "You said he was cheated, right?" "It was said," moaned Arabella. "I don't know. I just grabbed it! What was I thinking?!" "You were thinking that it was our money!" said Becky firmly. She slowed the team a bit. Her practiced eye determined they were going to have to stop and let them rest soon. They'd need water too, pursuit or no pursuit. She turned and looked up at Frank Jr. "Go back and see if we are being followed," she ordered. His wide eyes were complimented by his Adams apple bobbing and he nodded. He turned and disappeared. "It was our money, Mamma," she said again. Her mother's hands were twitching in her lap. "But he's DEAD!" wailed Arabella. "And we're safe at last," said Becky. Her mother was shocked into silence as her jaw dropped and she stared at her daughter. "Well we are!" insisted Becky. "He put his hands on me two nights ago, Mamma." Arabella's mouth closed and she sat up suddenly. "Oh no!" "When you went to sleep he put his hands on me. I had a bottle hidden, just in case. I gave it to him and he left me alone. I told him he could get more in Abilene. It's my fault he went in there, Mamma, but I'm not sorry!" "It's not your fault," moaned Arabella. "He'd have done it anyway." "I'm not sorry," said Becky in a dignified voice. "He treated us all like animals and slaves, Mamma. And lately it's been harder and harder to stop him from doing things to me. Your face is bruised right this minute and Frank Jr. is still limping from the last time he was kicked. We're better off without him, Mamma, and you know it." "Don't speak ill of the dead, Becky!" blurted Arabella. "All right," said the girl. "May he rest in peace." She let that lie for a few seconds, and then added: "If there's peace to be had in the fires of hell." ------- Chapter 2 Back in town, Sheriff Dan Cross stood, looking at the four bodies laid out in the dusty street. There were three bodies grouped together, with the farmer's body a couple of feet away. Their glassy-eyed stares were typical of the dead, looking foreign, somehow ... not quite human. The farmer's face bulged where facial bones had given way to pressure inside the skull. It looked grotesquely flat, somehow, despite the bulge. "Anybody know who they are?" he asked. There was still a crowd of ten of fifteen men milling around. Jasper Wiggins spoke. "Them three rode in this morning," he said, pointing at the group of bodies. Sydney seemed to know them." Sydney was the bartender and Sheriff Cross had no real use for him. Tim Humphreys stepped forward. "The farmer came in around noon. He asked for whisky. Them three were playing amongst themselves and he sat down at the table." He stopped there, not wanting to admit that he, too, had seen the men cheating the farmer, and had done nothing. "And this Cowboy..." Cross knew he was gone, but looked around anyway. He'd already heard of the amazing feat the boy - and all described him as a boy - had accomplished. He'd already examined the shooting irons of the dead men, and all were well worn, indicating frequent use, and suggesting some skill with them. For the boy to have taken them all suggested he might be a gun slinger, but that didn't fit with the story being told. "He lit out," said another man. "Might still be in town. I'd know him if I saw him." Cross snorted. The town was full of cowboys, in from various cattle drives, and more were arriving every day. Now that the railroad had arrived to take cattle back east Abilene was growing by leaps and bounds. Cross wasn't happy about that, but there was no stopping progress. "Anybody else hurt?" he asked. There were murmurs, but no information surfaced as to other victims. "And they were definitely cheating?" Dub Whittaker, a bent old man with a long dirty white beard stepped forward and pointed to leather shirt. "That one was double dealing. The farmer got the cards off the bottom, and that one," he pointed to the man who had claimed the win," got the better hand off the top. I knowed somethin' was up earlier, but couldn't see what they wuz doin' until that last hand. I think they got careless when the sodbuster was all in. He was so excited at his hand that he threw the girl into the pot." "And that girl?" asked Cross. "Where is she?" "Wagon went south out of town," said a man. "Damndest thing I ever saw. It wuz like they didn't even care he was dead." Another man yelled. "I saw the woman grab some money after the shooting!" "Did she get it all?" asked Cross, who knew there was no money lying around anywhere, and knew it was in the pockets of these men, or others who had decided not to stick around. "Probly," said the man, whose hand went to touch the front pocket of his pants. Cross didn't care about the money. If the farmer had been cheated, then as far as he was concerned the money belonged to his family. There was the little problem of who'd pay for the burials, though. As if that thought had produced him, a man hurried up. He was tall and lanky, with pale skin and was wearing a stovepipe hat that was easily a foot tall. "Four!?" gasped the undertaker. "It's a red letter day for you, Mister Remmington," said Sheriff Cross. "Who are they?" "That remains unclear." "Who's going to pay?" asked the sallow man. "We'll sell their gear," said Cross. "That should more than compensate you." Cross stepped up onto the boardwalk and went inside to talk to Sydney. The man's attitude was surly as he polished glasses with a dirty rag. "Who were they, Sidney?" asked the lawman. "How should I know?" The man didn't meet the lawman's eyes. "They knew you, according to them out there," said Cross, shoving his thumb over his shoulder at the street. "This is the fourth time in as many weeks I've had problems with your ... establishment ... Sydney. Seems to be a threat to public safety around here. I might have to have a word with the town fathers about closing down any unsafe businesses, if you get my drift." "You can't do that!" growled the barkeep. "I been here since this shit hole got named!" "Progress moves apace, Sydney," said Cross. "I've even heard tell that some folks want to issue licenses to operate a business, like they do back east. Pretty fancy notion if you ask me, but progress brings such things." "I'm just trying to make a dollar!" complained the man. "Who were they, Sidney?" Cross was tired of negotiating. The bartender's eyes darted left and right as he scowled. "I tell you and you leave me be ... right?" "Depends," said Cross. "They caused a heap of trouble." "They just showed up," complained Sidney. "I can't help it if somebody just walks in my doors." Cross started to turn. "Good luck with your business, Sydney," he said. He made it to the batwing doors before the man called "Wait!" He turned, but he didn't plan on waiting long. That must have been obvious. "Fisby," said the bartender. "They claimed to be brothers. They always had cash. I didn't ask no questions." Cross's eyes widened. He'd heard that name. Most lawmen west of the Mississippi had heard that name. The Fisby brothers were reputed to have robbed three trains, and killed more than ten men between them. Nobody knew what they looked like ... until now ... if that was who they were. "They spent some time in town some years back, and hung around here. I couldn't turn them away," whined Sidney. "They'd have made trouble." "I'll mention that to the city fathers," said Cross. "I'll remind them you went to pains to make sure there was no trouble." Cross pushed through the doors. The undertaker's two sons were there now, lifting bodies onto a wagon. Cross went to the three horses that were already tied to the rear wheel of the wagon. His examination revealed a very nice Sharps buffalo rifle and he removed it from the scabbard. "Here now!" called Remmington. "That's my fee!" "This is MY fee," said Cross, shouldering the rifle. "You're getting three horses and saddles for your work, plus their pistols, which I might add are possibly famous. That's worth three times what you have coming." "Who's going to pay for the farmer?" complained the man. "His clothes ain't even worth keeping and one of his boots has a hole in the bottom!" "Those fellers are," said Cross, looking at the bodies of the three outlaws. He paused to say one last thing to the undertaker. "And talk to Homer. Make sure he gets a good photograph of their faces before you plant them. His fee can come out of their belongings too." He left the fuming man behind and turned toward the train station. There was one bit of progress he was happy about, and he headed for the depot to send a telegraph. Barely a year past, the Dalton gang had terrorized Coffeyville, and the resulting gun battle, which had killed eight men, outlaws included, was still talked of. The territorial authorities were trying to bring civilization to Kansas, and they'd be interested in the Fisby brothers, if anybody was. There had been word of a reward too. Cross knew he couldn't claim it, but getting some attention for his blooming town couldn't be bad, especially if it helped establish the town's reputation as a place outlaws should stay shut of. ------- Arabella Mortenson sat on the wagon seat, staring at the dust being kicked up by the now walking team of oxen in front of her. Most of an hour had passed. Her son had returned to the front of the wagon, saying he saw no riders, and no dust behind them. She was slowly coming to grips with the idea that her life might not be over. But that brought with it other concerns. If she stayed alive and out of prison, she would have to figure out how to provide for her family. She seemed to go through cycles of thought. First she reminded herself that they had, in the wagon, the tools and supplies necessary to establish a new home. She didn't know how to use some of them, but she could learn. She thought of what needed doing next, in pursuit of that. Then, as she contemplated what would be required of them, she lost hope and slid back into the abyss of self pity. Becky was still handling the team, going south toward the Oklahoma territory. They had been headed there anyway, and she had no better plan. Frank had never let her make a single decision after she was told to walk up the aisle to meet him on her wedding day. She'd never laid eyes on him before that day. Now, as she realized she'd never lay eyes on him again, she felt peculiar. That was because she felt guilty. And THAT was because, now that she'd had time to think about it, the idea of never seeing Frank Mortenson again did not, in any way, make her unhappy. Her daughter was right about that. He was a beast ... had been a beast. How could she be so relieved that her husband was dead? Did that make her a monster? No. HE had been the beast. Now there would be no more bruises ... no more loose teeth from his fist hitting her mouth. There would be no more drunken rages where she was dragged to the bedroom, stripped bare and then taken like a common whore. She shuddered, as she had for years, at the thought of his slapping hands and squeezing fingers, that left bruises on her after sex that was always painful. No longer would she know that just outside the bedroom, her children could hear her screams as their father made her wish he'd just kill her and get it over with. She had stayed alive for the children though. She had been able to protect them thus far. The price had been steep but providence had finally taken a hand. Her demon of a husband was no longer a threat, to her OR her children. Her shoulders sagged as their situation sank in. They were hundreds of miles from their former home, which was now owned and being lived in by another family. The man of her own family was dead. She'd stolen money and left his body for whatever courtesy the town of Abilene might accord it. She'd never even know where he was buried. Other matters clamored for her attention. Frank's plan had been to arrive Kansas, or perhaps the Oklahoma Territory, where he intended to homestead a hundred and sixty acres. There was land to be had there, he said, free for the taking. He'd been vague on the details, but just last night he'd told them they'd be "there" in a week or two. He'd gone in the saloon, he said, to get news. She knew he'd gone in to get whiskey, because all but one of the bottles he'd brought were empty. Becky had now confirmed that suspicion. Well. There'd be no more whiskey, evidently. She couldn't be unhappy about that either. "Mamma!" Becky interrupted her healing process. "Look there ... up ahead!" Arabella lifted her eyes. A horse was standing, head down and one rear leg lifted, off the ground. A man was sitting, his head in his hands, beside the horse. It was the cowboy who had shot the men who had killed her husband. ------- U.S. Marshal Jeremiah Stone looked at the dispatch his boss, Jeffrey Tomlinson had just handed him. It was spare in the details, but the meaning was clear: "presumed fisby brothers shot dead in abilene stop killed during card game stop burial proceeding stop photographs available stop please advise details of reward stop" The signature was just one word: "cross" Tomlinson waited until Stone was finished reading. "Get on over there and see if there's any way you can show it was them," he said. "That would be a nice thing to be able to tell Judge Baker. Maybe we can stop looking for them." "How in tarnation am I supposed to prove it was the Fisbys?" asked Stone. "Marcus Fisby is said to have had his great left toe shot off by one of his brothers," said Tomlinson. "That and the photographs should be enough to convince the judge if we can get their mother to say it's them." "It says they're being buried," commented Jeremiah. "Then dig 'em up when you get there," said Tomlinson casually. "Our resources are stretched thin. We don't need to be chasing ghosts if we can help it. And try not to say anything about that reward when you get there. I don't want to authorize that kind of payment unless it's absolutely necessary." Stone left the office, still frowning. Ever since the Supreme Court had upheld the right for Marshals to use deadly force in the commission of their duties, some three years past, the Marshal Service had been invaded by dandies and politicians who knew nothing about law enforcement, but wanted the glory of "catching" felons. Most of them never left their comfortable offices, sending men like him out instead to do the dirty work. Well, examining rotting bodies dug from the ground was one bit of dirty work he planned to avoid. He went to the telegraph office and sent a telegram back to Abilene: "marshal on way about fisbys stop have photographs taken of faces and bare feet of all dead before burial stop" He added the name "Stone" at the end and handed it to the clerk. Then he went to get his gear ready for the long ride from Topeka to Abilene. It would be good to get out of the stink of the city and out under the open skies again. ------- The wagon rolled to a creaking stop. The team stamped and blew, finally able to rest. The cowboy's horse looked around at them and whickered. Its ears flicked forward in interest. "What happened?" asked Arabella. She still didn't know why she'd told Becky to stop the wagon. The young man looked up at them. "Threw a shoe. He went lame before I figured it out." He looked hopeless. Nobody said anything for so long that only the sound of the oxen's labored breathing convinced Becky that she hadn't gone deaf. "I'm sorry," said the cowboy. "I didn't mean for any of that to happen. I should have just kept my mouth shut." "And let us be robbed," said Arabella, whose mix of disturbing emotions had her reeling. At once she felt relief that Frank would never break another of her bones, and the shame of having taken their money back in a way that seemed a lot like stealing, to her. On top of that there was pity for this young man, who had done something that should have righted a wrong, but which turned both his and their worlds upside down. She felt both pity for this young man and herself. But it was the knowledge that he had saved her daughter from a fate worse than death that was probably responsible for the snap decision she made at that moment. "Why don't you come with us?" He goggled at her. "I just got your husband killed!" he gasped. She straightened her shoulders, suddenly feeling some strength flow into her body. "Some things are not as they first appear," she said. AJ was confused. "He wasn't your husband?" "Oh he was that," said Bella. "I can't explain now. There may be people looking for us, and I do not wish to be found just now. May I say plainly that we are not as sad at Frank's loss as we should be ... but we're going to need help to survive. It looks like you could use some help as well." She let that lie there in the still air. "This is crazy," he muttered, still unbelieving. "I killed those men. You should get as far from me as you can." "Perhaps," said Bella. "They were bad men, though." "Cheats!" gasped AJ. "But not to be gunned down like that!" "What choice did you have? I heard more than your shots, and Frank was killed. They would have killed you too." "The law will not see it that way," said AJ. "Then I suggest you avoid the law," said Bella. "Come with us. Help us get to some place where we have a chance, slim though it may be, to regain our lives. After that you may go whither you wish." It was the whicker of AJ's horse that made his decision for him. The gelding had been a damn good horse, but it was lame now, and might not be whole for weeks, even assuming he could find a farrier to reshoe the bare hoof. If he had to walk those weeks, pursuit would find him easily and he'd swing from the end of a rope for murder. He knew that one of them had drawn first, but they were from town, and he was a stranger. It was unlikely there would be testimony in his defense. He stood and began taking his gear from the gelding. He went to the rear of the wagon and threw his saddle in the back. He added the blanket and his bedroll and then stroked the horse's cheek before removing the bridle. The horse tossed his head, as if to ask "What now?" "Go on," he said, pushing the beast away from him. "Good luck to you. Better than my luck, I hope." Then, uncomfortable at facing the woman whose husband he'd gotten killed, he climbed into the back of the wagon and told her to drive on. ------- Riding in the wagon was completely foreign to AJ. Even so, the creaking of wood and metal, the rocking motion and bumps that tossed him and everything else in the back around couldn't penetrate into the part of his mind that replayed, over and over, the scene that he couldn't get out of his head. Keeping his eyes closed or open didn't matter. He still saw the dust jump from the clothing of the men as his bullets struck them. He had killed a man. He had killed three of them, in fact. It wasn't at all like he'd expected it would be, back when he practiced by firing countless bullets at bottles, or knots on trees. He'd killed his share of game as well. But this was different. His rational mind insisted that they would have gunned him down if he hadn't let instinct and his muscle memory loose in those few seconds. That was the other thing that kept his jaw slack. The scene played on in what would, years later, be given the name "slow motion." His memory supplied other things about the scene too ... the almost identical sneer on the men's faces ... their guns coming out of holsters ... the belch of smoke from the ends of the barrels. He understood now why they were called barrels. They had looked as big around as a pickle barrel. He saw the bodies slowly turning or moving away from him as his bullets struck their bodies. He remembered one pistol flying from a suddenly limp hand. Another part of his mind centered on the fact that he had almost died. That was different than the past too. His life had been threatened by stampedes, and lightning, and rattlers, among other things. He'd almost died of thirst one time. But in all those cases he'd still felt like he had some control over his life. He'd been able to take action to lessen the danger, or at least try to live. His thoughts flickered to his bullets striking the men again. That had been action that had saved his life. The sodbuster had taken one right in the face. AJ's mind produced a quick glimpse of a shattered face, suddenly shaped all wrong, a third dark eye where no eye should be. It could have been him. He shuddered suddenly and sobs wracked his young frame. He was instantly mortified, ashamed beyond anything he'd ever faced before, and grimy hands flashed to knuckle his eyes. His glance darted to the other passenger in the back ... the young boy. The boy's stare brought a surge of anger. "Does it hurt that turrible?" asked the boy, looking at the blood-soaked sleeve below AJ's left shoulder. "I don't know," growled AJ, feeling helpless. Pain registered in his brain, a pain he almost welcomed because he could think about that instead of the fact that killing men ... even men who deserved it ... just didn't make him proud of himself at all. "You ought to clean that," said the boy sagely. "Mamma says you got to clean a wound so's it won't fester." "I got other things on my mind," said AJ. "We got some water," said the boy, jerking his thumb behind him. "But the barrel's on the side of the wagon. You want me to tell Mamma to stop?" "No," said AJ. "Leave me alone." Maybe an hour later AJ wished they WOULD stop. The rocking of the wagon kept his arm moving, and he had to brace himself to keep from being thrown against furniture or provisions. His arm felt like it was on fire now. His shirt sleeve had turned almost black and was stiff. It kept sticking to the wound and then tearing loose as he moved. It was stifling in the wagon too. There was a fine coat of dust over everything and clouds of dust boiled into the opening of the back of the wagon occasionally. Finally he took the shirt off, wincing at the pain of moving his arm. He examined the wound, which had torn a chunk of his skin out in a strip about two inches long. The wound itself was seeping bright red blood. He muttered an oath. "Damn!" "Better not let Mamma hear you cursing," warned the boy. "She's death on cursing." AJ coughed as another cloud of dust wafted into the back of the wagon. "How in tarnation can you live like this?" he asked the boy. "Like what?" The boy looked confused. "Never mind," said AJ. "Ain't you got any water in the back here?" "No." The boy didn't even look around. "We'll stop soon, though." "Why?" asked AJ. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and pursuit as possible. As slow as the wagon was going he was quite sure he'd hear the rattle of hooves behind the wagon at any minute. "Team's got to rest," said the boy, as if anyone should know that. "Got to be watered too." AJ felt uncommonly stupid as he realized he should have thought of that himself. He looked out the opening in the back of the wagon. His horse, now less it's saddle and bridle, limped along behind the wagon. He'd expected the beast to stay where it was, but it seemed to want company more than it wanted to favor a lame hoof. He sighed as he realized the horse was leaving tracks in the trail of the wagon ... tracks a blind man could follow. ------- AJ followed the boy out of the wagon, still shirtless. He didn't want to wear the shirt again until it had soaked in a stream for a while. It didn't occur to him to be embarrassed about appearing in front of womenfolk with a bare chest. He was more concerned with the pain in his arm that made something so simple as getting out of a wagon seem like a major event. The boy had removed the wooden lid from a water cask and dipped water into a bowl. AJ watched him take the bowl to the standing oxen and then got a dipper of water out for himself. He drank from it first, and then poured the rest on the un-bloodied shirt sleeve of his shirt. Wincing he started swabbing his wound. "Let me do that," said the woman. "I'm Arabella Mortenson, by the way. Frank Junior is watering the team. Becky's my daughter." Her fingers plucked the shirt from his grasp. She sniffed, wrinkling her nose at the condition of the garment. Then she called to her daughter to find the last of the whiskey. Becky produced a bottle that, to AJ's practiced eye, had perhaps three shots left in it. She worried at the cork unsuccessfully until AJ took the bottle from her and pulled it with his teeth. He was sorely tempted to swig from it, but she took it back before he could get the cork out of his mouth. He tensed at the incredible burning sting as she poured whiskey from the bottle into the open wound and then used the cleanest part of his shirt to wipe the caked blood away. When she poured the rest of the bottle on the wound his groan wasn't from pain, but from seeing what she had said was the last of the whiskey dribbling off his arm into the dust at his feet. When she was done she handed the shirt to her daughter and instructed the girl to get rid of it in a nearby copse of trees. "Hey!" complained AJ. "I only got one other shirt." "I'll give you one of my husband's," she said. "He was bigger than you, but it should fit all right." Her voice was peculiarly flat as she went on. "He has no more use of them." She gave Becky more instructions and the girl appeared from the back of the wagon with two shirts. Arabella tore one into strips to make bandages while the girl stood, holding the other shirt and staring curiously at AJ. "Don't stare, Becky," ordered her mother. "It's not polite." AJ was doing some staring of his own. The woman's calm attitude didn't make sense, considering what had happened. Her touch was gentle, almost caring as she bound up the wound and then helped him slip on a nicer shirt than he'd ever owned in his life. His eyes took in the girl's form, which took his mind off the pain in his arm. Even the loose long dress she was wearing couldn't hide the fact that she was a girl. The bodice was tight across her breasts. Under the sun bonnet her brown hair hung in natural ringlets. She was cute, but AJ could almost always find something cute about most women. He'd lived the life of a cowboy for over a year now, and that included patronizing saloons and the women who worked in them. He hadn't been around what his mother would have called a decent woman in a long time though, and he felt a little funny about wondering what this girls breasts might look like heaving as she lay under him. It was hard to envision, though, because thus far there had only been two women who found themselves in that situation. Both had been closer to Arabella's age than Becky's. That brought his attention to the woman who was now standing and staring at him herself, despite her previous rebuke to her daughter. Her dusty dress didn't hide the fact that she was female either. Her bust was larger, and her face had lines of care in it, but she was easily as good looking as either of the painted women AJ had dallied with. It occurred to him that his indecent thoughts might end him up walking and he tried to push them out of his head. "Thank you," he said, moving his arm experimentally. It still hurt like the blazes, but the whiskey had knocked the sharp edge off the pain. "You're welcome," said Arabella. "Now, as to avoiding pursuit. We should leave the trail ... don't you think so?" AJ looked in the direction of their back trail. The road had deep ruts in it from countless wagons that had traveled this way in the past, heading down to join the Santa Fe Trail. All around them was prairie, dotted here and there with small groups of trees. His eyes drifted naturally to a line of trees that announced a stream in the distance, ahead. As Frank Junior made another trip to the water barrel and returned to the team AJ wondered why the woman hadn't driven the wagon on to the stream to let them drink, instead of using their stored water. "If we leave the road here the wagon will still leave tracks in the grass," he pointed out. "We should go on to that stream up ahead and see if the wagon might be able to go up the stream bed, where the water will wash out the tracks." "How do you know there's a stream there?" she asked curiously. "That line of trees wouldn't be there unless there was a regular supply of water," he said. "Oh," said Arabella, looking surprised. "All right." Her face took on a slightly strained look. "I don't believe you never mentioned your name." She looked almost embarrassed, as if she felt like she was prying. "AJ," he said. "I'm just called AJ." "I see. Well, shall we be off again?" It sounded like she was talking about going on a picnic or some such thing. Frank Junior approached with the bowl and announced he was finished watering the oxen. AJ looked at their back trail again, trying to discern if there was any dust being raised in the distance. He didn't see any, but the wind was gusty. His horse was standing, cropping grass contentedly. He took the bowl from the boy and put some water in it. His horse drank greedily. "Off again sounds good to me," he said, handing the bowl back to the boy. ------- In the fifteen minutes it took them to get to the stream, AJ's thoughts ranged free. His wound was now only throbbing, and his immediate shock and fear was giving way, allowing him to think more clearly. He admitted to himself that he was scared, more so than he'd ever been before in his life. True, the men had been cheating, but he had no proof of that. And true, they had drawn first, or at least one of them had, but he was a stranger in town and who would back him up on that? These cow towns loved the money that the herds brought in, but they had little use for the cowpokes who got them there. And for all he knew, those men had been pillars of the community. Then there was the woman. He was puzzled by her actions and attitude. She didn't act like a woman whose husband had just been killed. And she didn't act towards AJ like he was the man who had precipitated that killing. Then he remembered how the man had agreed to throw his daughter into the pot as a bet. Maybe the woman was as mercenary as her husband. Maybe she was trying to make him feel beholden to her. She had to know she had a tough row to hoe, now that her man was no longer there to do the heavy work. The wagon told the tale that they were setting out to start over again. It was likely that everything they owned was in this wagon. If her intent was to ensnare him, it was working. He DID feel responsible for getting her husband killed. And she HAD helped him. His arm DID feel better, and sepsis was less likely after that whiskey bath on the wound. He remembered seeing an old one-armed coot in Texas who hung around the saloon and traded the story, for a drink, of how he lost his arm in the war. He'd lost his arm to gangrene after receiving a simple flesh wound, like AJ now had. AJ shuddered at the thought of becoming that old man. He decided to take things slowly ... but he WAS beholden to the woman. If there was pursuit ... and he was sure there was ... he'd have been helpless on foot, and probably already tied to a horse, on his way back to Abilene ... and a gallows. ------- Chapter 3 When the wagon stopped AJ and Frank Jr. climbed out again. AJ walked to the head of the team and looked up and down the creek. Like many he'd seen before there was only a rivulet of flowing water in the middle of a wide mostly flat bed, caused by a hundred years of flash floods. He walked out onto the flat beside the small stream. It wasn't terribly soft, but the wagon would leave ruts in it. Still, he thought it could be done. He'd have to scout things out upstream, to make sure they could get back out of the creek bed. He told the woman to stay put and then scouted at a trot. The heels of his boots sank in deeper in some places than others, but he still thought the wagon could make it. The trees thinned a bit upstream and he found a place where, if the oxen could be urged to a trot, the wagon might be pulled back up onto the prairie. On his way back to the wagon AJ reflected on how it all depended on time. It would take them half a day to get the wagon upstream and wipe out the tracks. They might get caught by a posse while doing it. But if they just went ahead, that same posse would find them just as easily. By the time he got back to the three family members, standing forlornly by the wagon, he had decided that it was better to go down fighting than just lie down and give up. ------- They were all drenched with sweat when the wagon creaked over the last hillock onto flat ground. Frank Jr., being the lightest, stayed on the seat and handled the reins while the other three gripped wheel spokes and strained, helping wheels to turn in sand as the oxen also strained to pull the heavy load, their hooves churning soft ground. All three sank to sit on crushed prairie grass, panting, drops of salty liquid dripping from their noses and chins. The women looked like they had gone in swimming fully dressed. AJ's eyes picked out bumps on Arabella's bosom that he knew were nipples under the thin dress, but he was too tired to think about it. Frank Jr., of course, was filled with excitement, and full of energy as he jumped down from the wagon seat. AJ groaned and stood, telling Frank Jr. to follow him. He took his bowie knife from the scabbard on his right hip and hacked off two leafy tree limbs, handing one of them to the boy. Then he showed him how to scuff up the wheel ruts with his feet and sweep the bough across them to soften their look. By the time they'd reached the road, Frank wasn't so cheery any more. He had blisters on his hands from handling the limb, and was just as hot and dusty as all the others. AJ looked at the results of their efforts from the road and sighed. It was a hasty job. Anybody who looked twice would know what had happened, but it was the best they could do. His last act was to walk to the same side of the creek as the wagon was now on, wiping out their boot prints. Then he and Frank Jr. picked their way carefully through the trees for a few dozen yards. They abandoned their branches and then walked tiredly back to the wagon. ------- Jeremiah Stone dismounted at the small wooden structure, obviously newly built, that had a painted sign above the door that simply said "JAIL." He went inside, stomping his boots and making ineffectual swipes at the dust on his pants legs. The office was empty of humanity, as were the two cells built into the back wall. They appeared to have been built out of flat iron, probably used wagon tires, riveted together by the blacksmith who supplied them. There were a few posters on one wall, and a rifle rack. The desk had originally been some kind of shipping crate that had been altered to serve its current use. He returned to the street and looked around. Abilene was booming. The stink of cows permeated the air, and their lowing could be heard in the distance, where Stone knew the rail head was. People were hustling this way and that on the main street, a few dozen yards from the new jail, which had been built on the current edge of town. It took him half an hour to find Sheriff Dan Cross, who appeared to be jawing with the storekeeper of the Manelly Dry Goods Emporium. After introductions were made, Stone followed Cross back to the jail. On the way he learned that the bodies had, indeed, been buried. Cross produced photographs. The missing toe in one of them convinced Stone that the notorious Fisby brothers' days of mayhem were, in fact, a thing of the past. He got the story of the incident then. During the narrative, Stone learned that three witnesses had said that one of the three Fisbys had drawn first, though they didn't agree on which one. The only thing everybody agreed on was that the Fisbys had indeed been cheating, and that the cowboy was the fastest gun any of them had ever seen, with deadly aim to boot. That was evident to both lawmen, even without witnesses. One man had taken down three very bad men, firing a total of four shots. And while he was doing it, all three had drawn their guns. That the mystery man had fired four times, while the men who drew first only got off two made it clear the winner was very fast indeed. Cross related that he had found the trail boss the cowboy had come up the trail with, but had gotten only "AJ" as the hero's name. The description the trail boss gave matched that of the witnesses, including the cross draw holster rig. That wasn't all that common. "So we're not talking about murder here," said Stone. "Not unless you count the farmer, and his murderer is already dead," replied Cross. "For all practical purposes three wanted men were brought down, and one bystander got in the way." He squinted at the Marshal. "So is there really a reward for the Fisbys?" Stone simply nodded. "Good luck finding that AJ feller," drawled Cross. "He lit out of here like he was trying to make Mexico in one day." "Anybody go after him?" "Why would we? All he did was expose them for what they were and then rid the world of them. It was self defense, pure and simple." "What about the family?" "The only person who wanted them was the undertaker, so's he could charge them for the burial," said Cross. "As near as I can tell by what the witnesses said, they don't have no money anyway, other than what the woman snatched off the table after her man was killed. Did I tell you he threw his daughter into the pot?" "You did," said the Marshal. "Sometimes I wonder what this world is coming to," sighed Cross. "Hard times make hard people." Stone shrugged. "Well, considering that her husband was cheated and killed, I can't fault her for what she did. They lit out too. Same direction as the cowboy ... south." Cross tilted his head sideways and a speculative look came into his eyes. "So what happens to the reward now?" Stone shrugged again. "I'll put out the word about this AJ fellow. If anybody runs across him, he'll get the money. If not, I guess it will sit there until some judge decides what to do with it. I suspicion it will just stay in the pot and end up being paid out for some other misfit." Cross sighed. "Figured it would be something like that." ------- Within a mile of striking off through thick grass that came up to the seat of the wagon, they rolled onto an area where the grass was flattened in a wide swath for as far as the eye could see. Bella stopped the wagon. They'd all ridden for an hour, recuperating from their half day's labor. Cutting through the prairie grass had been a bumpy, slow process, but the ground looked much smoother ahead. Frank Jr. watered the oxen again, while AJ looked around. "This is the Chisholm trail!" he observed. "I just brought a herd of beeves across here." "So that's why it's all trampled down," said Bella. "Yes, Ma'am," said AJ. "This trail leads right back down to Texas." "We're not going to Texas," said Bella. "Well there's a fair piece of Kansas and all of Oklahoma Territory in between," said AJ. "But the going will be a lot easier if we stay on this trail for a while. There's some pretty country up ahead. It's a lot greener than further south." He looked at the woman. "Where were you headed?" "Frank had some information about homesteading on the plains," she said. "He didn't tell me much more than that. He seemed to know where we were headed." "Most of Kansas is still Indian country," said AJ, frowning. "I haven't heard of any land being opened up for settlers west of here." "As I said, I know only what Frank saw fit to tell me," said the woman. She leaned over and scooped up a handful of dirt, loosened by thousands of hooves. "The soil looks good." "Don't know much about farming," muttered AJ. He'd never wanted to think about farming once he'd left his parents farm, and he didn't want this woman to know that he had any knowledge of growing things at all. He much preferred the active life of handing cattle. "Well, I suppose we should go on," said Bella. "Though, to be honest, I don't know what to look for, as far as good land." She told the children to walk. Now that they'd had a chance to rest it was the team's turn to have less weight to pull. She told AJ to get up on the wagon seat. "I can walk, Ma'am," he said. He just naturally looked over at his horse, which he'd rather be riding. The animal seemed to be doing fine. Without the weight of a rider, it was putting a little weight on the hoof the shoe had come off of. He'd thought about putting it down, but couldn't bring himself to do it for just a thrown shoe. If it kept following them, they'd eventually find a farrier and the horse would be fine after that. Assuming it didn't go completely lame in the meantime. If that happened, he knew he'd have to kill again. And, as things had turned out ... he suddenly had no interest in killing anything other than, perhaps, dinner. "You broke open your wound getting the wagon to this trail," said Arabella. "You'll ride. I've no desire to stop moving again to bury you." ------- Marshal Stone had to wait as a double column of cavalry rode out before he kneed his horse through the gates of the tall stockade. He didn't glance up at the hand carved sign that said "FORT BENNETT RILEY." There was no sentry on duty at that time of day, though the fort was bustling with activity that far exceeded what had been there the last time Stone had happened by the outpost. Established fifteen years earlier, to protect settlers using the Santa Fe and Oregon trails on their movement westward, the fort looked like it had been there for decades. Stone had decided to let the commanding officer know about the Fisbys. Not that the Army spent much time looking for outlaws. That wasn't their job. But on those rare occasions where someone needed help, nobody was too picky about whether those chasing an outlaw wore a badge or just stripes on his sleeves. He tied his horse to the hitching post outside the headquarters building which was made of limestone blocks. There were other stone buildings scattered around as well. Lt. Colonel George Custer had lived in one of them, before he took the 7th Cavalry out to fight the Cheyenne. At this point in time, Custer was only famous for having gone AWOL to see his wife after that battle, and being tried by court martial for it. He was, in fact, in New York City, halfway through a one year suspension, though Stone wasn't aware of that. The Marshal entered the headquarters building with his badge clearly visible on his vest and told a Corporal that he'd like a few minutes with the commanding officer, who he knew to be Colonel Frederick Cotton. He'd met the man once before. He was ushered in immediately and shook hands with the short, stout man, whose face was dark red and lined, a sure sign that he spent much of his time outside this building. "What brings you to see the Army, Marshal?" asked Cotton. "I have some news," said Stone. He relayed the information about the incident giving the description of the mysterious "AJ" and the fact that, if found, he could be notified that he was due a reward. "His behavior suggests he thinks he is in trouble," said Stone, "so he may be hiding out. It's possible that your men, in their normal duties, might chance upon him." "Hmmm," mused Cotton. "If he decided to hide out to the west, he may be bones when we find him. The Comanche, among others, are kicking up their heels. We've just mustered the 19th Kansas Cavalry here at Riley, as a matter of fact. The traffic on the Santa Fe trail is starting to slack off, due to the railroad pushing west, but we still have our hands full with those who can't afford the train." Stone mentioned the settler family then, who survived the dead farmer. "South out of Abilene, you say?" muttered Cotton. "She may be headed for the Santa Fe. It crosses some miles south of there. And a lone wagon, you say?" "It appears that way," said Stone. "Foolish!" barked the Colonel. "These people just don't understand what they're getting into." "Well," said Stone, "I just thought you should know about something that happened in your area of operations." "Normally I wouldn't do anything about all this, Marshal, but I have several troops of raw recruits who need time in the saddle to sharpen their skills. I'll send a troop out that way. They can have a look see around while they learn how to find their way around the trackless prairie and toughen up their backsides!" He laughed. "If we find your young hero we'll set him straight. Who knows? Maybe we'll sign him up. After taking on all three Fisby brothers I'm sure a group of howling savages would present no challenge to him." He laughed again. The men shook hands and Stone left. If he kept a good pace, he'd only have to spend one more night sleeping on the ground before getting back to Topeka. ------- The oxen pulled steadily. To AJ, used to riding a horse, they seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. Even so, the wagon creaked and jounced, sometimes alarmingly as the wheels rolled over the roots of tufts of prairie grass and stones laid bare by the scouring of thousands of hooves. With nothing else to do but bounce along, Arabella's natural tendency to keeping silent gave way. Curious about the man on the seat beside her, she provided information about her little family, unconsciously urging him to share the details of his past with her. He did tell her a little about himself, though he was spare with the details, at first. Eventually he realized she was talking just to be talking, and AJ was convinced that she was just a woman, more or less just like any other. When she mentioned her dead husband, it almost sounded like he wasn't dead, just off somewhere and expected back some day. Some of what she said about their foray off to start a new life was patently ridiculous, though she didn't seem to know that. Take for instance how late in the season they'd started their trip. She was months behind breaking the soil and hadn't even found any soil to break. Had she been a man, AJ would have thought she was posturing about the plan to find land and settle it. It sounded like she thought it would be easy. "Have you farmed before?" he asked. "As a girl on my parents' farm," she said. "We lived in town after I married Frank. I was fifteen then, and thought he was a man of means." "That why you married him?" AJ didn't think of it as a hurtful question. "My father said I was to marry him," she said simply. "I had been around other men, of course. Frank seemed nicer than the others," she sighed. "At first he said sweet things, and made me feel grown up. I thought living in town would make me a lady." "You are a lady," he said automatically. "I never felt like one," she said sadly. "I wasn't married a month before he got drunk and struck me." AJ was appalled. A man didn't hit a woman. It was just that way. "Did somebody horsewhip him?" "Land sakes no," she said. "Nobody knew. I didn't tell anyone." "Why on earth not?" he asked, surprised. "And be the laughing stock of all those women I wanted so much to be like?" It seemed to make perfect sense to her. "I suppose I didn't really know what to do about it. He said he was sorry. He always said he was sorry ... eventually." "It happened again?!" AJ fidgeted on the board seat as adrenaline surged into his system. He was outraged. "Many times," she said stolidly. "It wasn't so bad when I was pregnant. He knew people checked on me then, and I couldn't hide the bruises." "Bruises?" AJ's voice went up a notch. "He should have been dragged through the street behind a horse! You should have left him!" "And done what?" she asked, quite seriously. "Where would I have gone? How would I have eaten ... fed my children? I'm not at all sure how I'm going to feed them now. He wasn't much, but at least we didn't starve. There were some lean times, to be sure, but we managed. Without him I don't know what I'm going to do." "Grow food," said AJ. "Plant seeds and eat the crop. People been doing it for centuries." "But there's the building of shelter, and winter to get through," she said. "I almost think it would be better to find some town and try to find some kind of work." The only "work" AJ knew of that women did in town had to do with rooms upstairs, above the saloons. Unless they were married to the storekeeper, or something like that. AJ had never paid much attention to what women did when they weren't promenading on the street. He knew his mother worked her fingers to the bone on the farm, but not what took up the time of the average women in town. "I don't think you're the kind of woman to work in a saloon," he suggested. "Lord no!" she gasped. "I've taken in washing before. That's how we got much of our food these last few years." The more he heard of Arabella's life, the more he realized that she wasn't as helpless and stupid as he'd originally thought. He still didn't understand why a woman would allow herself to be abused like that, but at least she had some worries about the same kinds of things that AJ would have worried about, had he been aiming to do what she was. At one point AJ wondered what HE was going to do. He still had his pay in his pocket, but that would be used up getting a new horse. Even then he'd have to get back to Texas and find another job wrangling beeves. He had no idea if word of his criminal status would spread once his former compatriots got back to Texas, but if it did, he'd be hard pressed to find any work at all. Then there were the Texas Rangers to dodge. They loved nothing more than going after wanted men. There was always New Mexico. He'd heard some tales about the growth there, after the Mexican American war, and how there was gold out west too. Perhaps he could make his way there and see what could be found. As they talked Arabella slowly got what there was to get out of him, concerning his own background. He insisted there wasn't much to tell. He'd left home, gotten a job as a cowboy, and here he was. "Where did you learn to shoot like that?" she asked. AJ was shocked that she'd be curious about how he came by the skills that, the way he still thought about it, got her husband killed. But her face held no trace of anger; only curiosity. "I just like shooting," he said. "I did, anyway. Now I'm not so sure." "Do all cowboys go around getting in gunfights?" she asked. Again, AJ thought the woman must be simple minded, or egging him on, but there was only curiosity in her eyes. "I reckon not," he said. "That was the first gunfight I ever got in, and I hope and pray it's the last." "That's good," she said, her eyes going to the oxen as if she were evaluating their health. She sounded almost relieved. "I never thought it would be like that," he said softly. "I mean I had ideas of glory ... but it wasn't like that. There was no glory in what I done." "They'd have killed you dead," she said. "All three of them were drawing their guns. I saw it myself!" "I shouldn't have even opened my mouth," said AJ. Her head swiveled and he knew she was looking at her daughter, who was walking quite close to the wagon, her bonneted head tilted as if she were trying to hear what they were saying. "You'd have let them take my daughter?" AJ felt uncomfortable as thoughts of what the men would have done to Becky flooded his mind and his own manhood reacted. He felt ashamed. "Somebody would have stopped them," he said. "Who? When you tried, they attempted to kill you. Do you really think other men from town would have foiled the evil plans of men they had to live with in that place?" AJ remembered how eager faces had leaned in when the cards were turned over and the sodbuster had learned he'd lost. There had been no condemnation on any of those faces. He was quite sure some of the others in the saloon must have known the men were cheating. They weren't very good at it, after all. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps the other men in that saloon would have turned and walked away as the girl was dragged up the stairs to be used like a whore. He saw Becky look directly at them, and then blush and look away as she saw his eyes on her. Her lurching gait, across the broken ground, made her breasts jump and jerk inside her thin dress. He almost groaned as his penis started to stiffen again in his pants. He looked away. "I don't know," he said helplessly. "You did a good thing, Mister AJ whatever your last name is," said Arabella. "You saved a sweet girl from something more terrible than any woman should have to face." She shook the reins and clucked at the team. "And I'll not miss being knocked around either," she said firmly. "My husband got himself into that mess. You tried to get him out. I find no fault in you. If your mother was here I'd thank her for going through the pain of birthing you." AJ was astonished to find that there were tears in his eyes. He wouldn't have characterized her attitude as one of forgiveness, because he didn't think about things like that. But the warmth of her comments affected him deeply. For the first time in a long time, he felt like hugging a woman for reasons other than feeling her femininity against his masculinity. In response he actually scooted further away from her a few inches. "It's Hobbs, Ma'am," he said. "What?" "My name is Aloysius Julian Hobbs." He expected her to laugh, but she didn't. Instead, she asked "Why do you go only by your initials?" "Men seem to think it a funny name," he mumbled. "I decided to change it, instead of fighting about it." "Well I think it's a perfectly fine name," she said. "It sounds gentleman like to me." "I ain't no gentleman," he snorted. "Who says?" she came back. Their eyes met, and AJ saw something in hers that stirred his groin again. It bothered him. On an unconscious level, AJ thought of her as a widow, and it wasn't seemly to have those kinds of thoughts about a widow. And having them about her daughter wasn't seemly either, especially since it was AJ who had made the girl half an orphan. They rode on in silence for a while. AJ was purely astonished when, after he had curbed his salacious thoughts about the women, he realized there might be a streak of gentleman in him after all. ------- They came upon the dead horse about an hour later. Conversation had slowly faded as they shared all they felt free to share. "What's he doing now?" asked Arabella as she saw Frank Jr. running ahead of the slowly moving wagon. AJ looked up ahead and saw the lump. He assumed it was a dead steer, since cattle died sometimes on a drive. It wasn't until they were closer that he saw it was what was left of a horse. The carcass had been stripped of most of the meat by carrion eaters of one kind or another. There were a few crows around, but there wasn't much left for them to scavenge, even though the stink of death still clung to the corpse. The white of the bones almost gleamed in the fading sun. "Get away from that!" called Arabella to Frank Jr., who was walking around the bones curiously. Something gleamed in the sunlight and AJ sat up straight. "Hold up," he said to Bella. She didn't ask any questions, pulling the team to a stop. Instead she ordered Frank Jr. to water the team, which seemed a little skittish, probably because of the smell. Becky, uneasy with death, came to stand close to the wagon. AJ approached the skeleton and leaned down. The hooves were shod. Pulling his Bowie knife from the scabbard, he lifted a hoof and started trying to pry the shoe off. The hoof came away in his hand, with the lower leg bones still attached. "What are you doing?" yelled Bella, horrified that AJ was handling the corpse. "I'm getting a shoe for my horse!" he called back. "Have you got a hammer?" "There's one back there somewhere," she said. "Are you serious?" "If I can reshoe my horse, maybe he won't go lame," said AJ, excited now for the first time since he rode out of Abilene. "But... " Bella felt her stomach heave as she watched the young man working on the bones. AJ had to pound on the knife, using it as a chisel. He had to be careful not to break the blade, but he was sure he'd be able to get the shoe free, recovering the nails as well. Bella watched the light begin to fail, but said nothing. Other than the wide swath of churned earth, there was only prairie grass for as far as she could see. They'd have to stop for the night somewhere, and here was as good as anyplace else. She was dirty and tired anyway, and, since they'd left the wagon road, she wasn't as worried about pursuit. AJ heard her telling the children about her decision and halted his work. "Not here," he said. "Why not?" she asked. "This corpse will still draw predators," he said. "We need to move on a mile or so. Maybe there's another stream up ahead. I remember plenty of water on the trip up. A stream would be better than a pond. See if you can find one. You go ahead with the wagon. I'll catch up." "Why a stream?" she asked. "This shoe is valuable," he said. "But that doesn't mean I want to smell like this any longer than I have to." "Oh," said Bella, wondering why she hadn't thought of that. "Of course." ------- AJ had worked one shoe free, and pocketed the nails. He wanted to get another one, just in case, but couldn't take the time. Then he groaned as he realized he could have just taken the bones with him and worked on them at their camp site. Seizing another leg he wrenched the bones free from the knee joint and began walking. ------- Chapter 4 It was almost fully dark by the time AJ caught up with the wagon. As it turned out there was, indeed, another rivulet a little more than a mile from the corpse of the horse. A fire was already going and his stomach growled as he smelled food cooking. He realized he hadn't eaten all day. There was jerky in his saddle bags, but a hot meal would be much more welcome. He hoped it wasn't beans. He decided to get the stink off of him before going into the camp, and altered his direction of travel to bypass the wagon and go directly to the creek. He had to go amongst the inevitable Cottonwood trees to get to the water, which was barely a trickle. Turning, he walked upstream toward the wagon, hoping to find a pool. His boots made almost no sound on the sandy bottom of the creek bed. He was almost to the wagon when he found the pool, but was unprepared to find Arabella standing in it. The fire was behind her, and her silhouette was coal black, except around the edges where her pale skin glowed faintly orange in the firelight. Her long hair had been unbound and was hanging down as she bent over, scooping up handfuls of water. It was the clear outline of her hanging breasts that made AJ realize she was naked. Their stark silhouette quivered and moved as she lifted handfuls of water to bathe them. He saw the outlines of stiffened nipples as he jerked to a stop. She was humming, which was probably why she hadn't heard his approach. He stood, riveted to the spot as she continued to bathe. She stood back up, and the hanging breasts settled on her chest, sagging somewhat as her hands smoothed over her belly and thighs. He felt the tightening in his groin, but this time he didn't look away. He couldn't. He hadn't seen many paintings, and the ones he HAD seen, even in a saloon, couldn't hold a candle to what he was seeing now. Even though there was no detail, her form, outlined by firelight, made her seem like some magical creature, calling to the man in him. He realized he was holding his breath, and let it out slowly. The last thing he wanted was to get caught intruding on her privacy. It wasn't because of any gentlemanly feelings now, though. He just didn't want her to run away. He wanted to keep watching her. His horse ruined everything. It had probably smelled him, having a keener nose than the humans in the area. It trotted toward him, splashing through the water and whinnying at its master. Bella, startled by the big beast going past her, moved and saw AJ standing by the stream, not twenty feet away, as the fire illuminated his form. Her "EEEK" was accompanied by one arm covering breasts she didn't know were hidden in the dark, and the hand of the other arm going to her groin. "I'm sorry!" blurted AJ. "I didn't know you were here." The horse butted his chest and almost knocked him down. "I was going to do the same thing." Bella whirled and ran on bare feet that danced on small stones and sticks as she tried to get away. She yelped and stopped, lifting a foot, hopping on the other as she felt the injured one. "Turn around!" she gasped. AJ did so, finally paying some attention to his horse, which was obviously looking for something to eat. It was disgusted by the bones in his hand and snorted. Hearing nothing, he stayed turned away for long minutes. Finally he peeked, only to find that the pool was deserted, and Bella was nowhere in sight. Sighing, he started stripping his own clothing off, piling his things on the sand beside the pool. He didn't stand, like Bella had. He tried to immerse himself in the water, sitting. It came to his waist, and covered his legs. He washed over and over, even dunking his head, making sure that the stink of death was gone. Then he washed his clothes and the bones he'd brought with him. It wasn't until he stood up to let the wind dry him, that he realized he had nothing to change into. On the trail it wouldn't have mattered. He'd have just walked naked back to camp, letting the air dry him, and put on clean clothes. He sighed. Getting the wet pants on was a lot of work. He left the shirt off and carried his boots in one hand, the bones and horseshoe in the other. Bella was fussing over the cast iron pot sitting on the edge of the fire when he arrived at the campsite. She looked up. Even in the weak light of the fire he could see her blush. "I'm really sorry," he said. "You look a sight," she muttered. "I suppose you bathed in your clothes." "No," he said, confused. "I just didn't have anything else to put on." "Your planning skills leave somewhat to be desired," she said darkly. "Unless you planned on spying on me." "How was I supposed to know you'd be there?" he asked. "Why didn't you come straight to the wagon?" she shot back. "Because I stank!" he barked. "I was trying to spare you the odor!" "Well you certainly didn't spare me the embarrassment," she mumbled. "My own son saw me bare naked when I ran back to camp!" "He's a lucky boy," said AJ, without thinking. He looked up into the dark branches of the trees above and groaned. "You are impertinent!" she scolded. "All right," he said. "I'm impertinent. I stumbled upon you bathing, and took advantage of you. You may horsewhip me in the morning. Right now, though, I'm starved, and that smells good." He looked around. "Where are the others?" "I sent them to gather wood," she sniffed. "While I made myself decent." "In the dark?" AJ looked around. "What if there are Indians about?" Bella stood straight up, a look of horror on her face. "Indians!?" "This has been their land for centuries," said AJ. "Sometimes they don't take kindly to the white man using it, and capturing prisoners is a rite of passage for their young men." "You have to find them!" gasped Bella. She started screaming their names. As it turned out, both teens were just outside the ring of firelight. Each had one stick in either hand. As they ran into the light it was obvious both were scared and had gone only far enough that their mother thought they were gone. It was also obvious that they had probably heard everything that had been spoken between the adults. "I should get pa's gun," said Frank Jr., breathlessly. "You don't need any guns," said AJ, sighing. "Indians don't go out in the dark. They're afraid of evil spirits." "They don't? Then why did you scare me like that?" Bella's face twisted with her frown. AJ thought about that for a minute. He had no idea why he'd brought Indians up. He'd known there was little danger. They hadn't seen any sign of Indians, and the red men steered clear of the Chisholm Trail, for the most part. Drovers had guns and weren't afraid to use them. Horsebound on a good cutting horse, a cowboy was easily as mobile as the native warriors were, and nothing beat a six shooter for close-in combat. The Indians knew all of that. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "I guess I just wanted to get off the subject of getting caught seeing you..." He trailed off. Everyone present was thinking the word "naked." He might as well have just said it. Things calmed down and the meal was served. It was, indeed, beans, but there was some dried meat mixed with it, and crackers. It filled the belly, which was the point. When all had eaten, Becky was sent to clean the pot with sand and creek water. Bella stood, waiting for her to return, and took the girl and pot to the back of the wagon. "The men sleep under the wagon," she said firmly. ------- The next morning, after a breakfast of more beans, this time mixed with rice, AJ cleaned the bare hoof of his horse and used Bella's hammer to nail his hard-won shoe onto his horse's hoof. The horse seemed to know all was well, and pranced a bit when it was let loose. AJ wanted to ride, but thought it might be too soon. It was better that the horse had a day to walk normally, and let the leg rest. On this day the women rode on the wagon, while AJ and Frank Jr. walked. Little had been said between Bella and AJ during the morning. There was still an air of tension between them. As they walked, Frank Jr. was the one asking the questions this time. He wanted to know everything. He asked about cows, and what cowboys did, and about Indians and outlaws. He asked how many men AJ had killed, having no idea that AJ wasn't proud of what he'd done. To distract him, AJ started teaching him things about nature. The boy knew some things, but his education was woefully inadequate. He couldn't tell the difference between tracks and scratches in the dirt, and his judging of distance was seriously flawed. At one point AJ walked over to the wagon and looked up at Bella. "Where, exactly, are we going?" he asked. "I don't know," she said stiffly. "Then how will we know when we get there?" he asked. "I don't know that either," she said, frowning. "How long do you want me to stay with you?" he asked, expecting her to suggest that he ride off immediately. The woman stared at him for a few seconds. Her children stared at her. "Until we get there," she said. ------- It was later that day that AJ decided to try the horse out. He was tired of walking and the horse's gait seemed normal. There was no swelling on the ankle of the repaired hoof, or any of the muscles in the leg. The horse stood placidly as it was saddled and the bridle put on. As soon as AJ mounted, however, it jinked. AJ knew it would - it always did - and he swayed in the saddle expertly until the animal settled down. He didn't know it, but to the others, it looked like he had just ridden a bucking bronco, and they were impressed. It was mid afternoon when, from his perch on top of the horse, AJ saw the first cow. It was merely a dark spot in the prairie grass at the edge of the trail, but it drew his attention. His horse, upon detecting the cow, began to herd it without any command. It was a little wild, but AJ drove it toward the wagon, thinking to just shoot it and butcher it for the meat. It tired of running and slowed to a walk, old habits coming back to it. Based on the brand, a lazy R that AJ had never seen before, he made the assumption that it had strayed from some herd being driven to the rail head. Bella was delighted by the find, but not for the same reason AJ was. "Milk!" she sighed. "At last we can have milk." When AJ had seen the cow he hadn't paid any attention to the fact that it had an udder. Now that he did, though, it made him wonder. It wasn't odd that she was out here. Sometimes a cow or two ended up in a herd of steers being driven north. But a full udder meant there was a calf somewhere, and he hadn't seen that. He went back out to look for the calf. The cow had probably laid down to have its calf and been left behind on the drive. That would account for it being a stray. Crisscrossing the tall grass he eventually found what was left of the calf. Probably a third of the bones were missing, but the pitifully small looking rib cage and a lot of hide was still left. It had been killed recently, which was why mamma was still hanging around. The predators had gone for the calf instead of a full grown and angry longhorn. He rode in wider circles, and found a second live beef, this one a steer. By the end of the next day, he had collected six, most with different brands. One of the brands he recognized as being from the herd he had helped drive to Abilene. He taught Frank Jr. how to herd them with a long stick and, once a leader was identified, tied that one to the back of the wagon on a long rope. That left him free to range outward looking for more. He was mildly surprised there were so many strays, since cowboys routinely rounded them up when seen on drives. Many a herd had arrived at the rail head with more, or at least different cattle than it had started out with in Texas. By the fourth day they had their own little herd of twelve cows. It was that day, however, that things were to take a turn that was interesting for other reasons. AJ was looking for strays again, happy to be a cowboy once again, when he saw the dust to the north. It would take a dozen or more horses to raise that kind of dust and the first thing he thought of was Indians. He rode back to the wagon at a run and asked about rifles, cursing himself for not thinking of them sooner and having them ready. His own rifle was in its scabbard and loaded, but he'd only thought about hunting, rather than actually doing any. He'd been too busy rounding up cattle to do any hunting. He told Bella to keep going and dismounted his horse, stepping directly into the back of the wagon to look for the rifle and ammunition that Bella said was back there somewhere. He looked up to see Becky climbing over the transom of the wagon. "Mamma told me to get in here," she said breathlessly. AJ looked outside and saw Frank Jr. walking right behind the wagon, ready to climb in. "Where's that rifle?" he asked her. ------- You can see a long way on the prairie. Things far away seem to hover over the earth as heat rises off the grass. Thus it was that Becky, her sharp eyes peering toward the approaching dust, saw the pennant held aloft and asked AJ what it was. His own eyes saw hats, instead of feathers, and dark blue, instead of brown skin. "Soldiers!" he gasped. Becky and Frank Jr., of course, were delighted. Both had been scared half to death at the thought of facing wild Indians. But Arabella knew the danger to AJ, and quite possibly to herself. "What do I do now?" moaned AJ. "If they find me they'll take me back to hang!" "Hide in the back of the wagon!" yelled Bella. "Frank!" she yelled further. "Get up on his horse. Do it right now! Ride out around those cattle. Go on, you've seen him do it a hundred times." Frank Jr. stayed elated. He'd yearned to ride AJ's horse often, but had never been able to get up the nerve to ask if he could. Now, suddenly, he got to act like it was his horse. He vaulted into the saddle. He had to let his legs hang, because the stirrups were down too low for his feet to reach, but he didn't care. He almost fell off as the horse turned, in answer to his hands on the reins, and grabbed at the saddle horn frantically. Then he got his balance again. Meanwhile Becky had been going through a box on one side of the wagon. She held out a handful of cloth to AJ. "Quick! Put this on!" she said breathily. AJ held it up. It was one of her mother's dresses. "I can't wear that!" he gasped. "Yes you can. You'll be my sister. Hurry! I have to find a bonnet. Go on! They'll be here soon!" AJ, tried to figure out how to get the dress on. It was impossible, though. Becky noticed. "Over your head!" she yelled. He held the dress up and let it fall. It tangled on his arms and head, blinding him. "Not that way!" Becky giggled in spite of the fact that she was scared again. "You look silly. Take your other clothes off! I'll put them back with Pa's things. HURRY!" AJ was rattled. He removed the dress and then took off his shirt. He had his pants half down when he realized he had on nothing under them. He could hear the thunder of hooves now, though. The soldiers were almost there. As Becky stared wide-eyed at the thing swinging between his legs he pulled the dress back over his head and down to cover his nakedness. She helped and clapped a big, floppy bonnet on his head and tied the strings tightly under his chin. Then the soldiers were there, and Becky listened breathlessly as a man introduced himself as Lieutenant Dobbs, with the greetings of the commander of Fort Riley. Bella's voice was stronger than either Becky or AJ would have believed it could be. "I hope this visit doesn't bode ill news about Indians," she said. "Not at all Ma'am," said Lieutenant Dobbs. "We're simply looking for a man." AJ moaned softly and Becky shushed him. Another soldier rode up to the officer and spoke to him softly. "I see you have cattle with mixed brands," said the officer, his voice suddenly less friendly. "I believe they're strays from some cattle drive," said Bella. "They seem to be around in quite large numbers." The officer nodded. The troop had seen cattle often, in ones and twos. They'd shot and butchered more than one, to extend their supplies. "Your husband gathered them?" asked Dobbs, looking around. "I see your son sits on a man's saddle." "My husband was bitten by a rattlesnake several weeks ago," said Bella, somewhat stiffly. "I buried him." She looked out at Frank Jr. "When we found these cattle as we moved onward, I thought it would be a waste to leave them on the plains. Being widowed, I thought to sell them or, if we find their owners, receive payment for returning them. I fear I am uneducated about how to alter my husband's saddle to fit the boy, but he has done a masterful job of trying to make do. He has even added to the group." "My condolences, Ma'am," said Dobbs. "You must be a strong woman. I admire your grit. Most women would give up and turn back in your circumstances." "I have nothing to return to," she said. "Perhaps we could escort you to Fort Riley," he said. "I'm sure you could become gainfully employed there. We have need of washer women and seamstresses. You could make your home there." "Tis a thought," said Bella, sounding as if she was actually considering it. "How far is it?" "Three days ride," said the officer. "Of course in your wagon it would take nearer a week." "Isn't there a town somewhere up ahead?" asked Bella. "We've come so far. I hate to turn around and go back." "It would be criminal for me to leave you and your son out here on the plains alone, Ma'am," said Dobbs. "While there's been no problem this far east, there are Indians about, and they are making some trouble to the west of here." Becky had crawled up on the stored things right behind her mother and chose that moment to push her head through the opening of the wagon cover. She brandished the rifle AJ had urged her to find. "Just let them come," she said melodramatically. "Matilda and I will shoot them dead. We're excellent shots with a rifle!" "Matilda?" Bella asked weakly. "She's back here with me, Mamma," said Becky. "She's putting the ammunition back in the boxes." Becky looked at the handsome Lieutenant. "We thought you were Indians at first, and were prepared to fight from the back of the wagon." She smiled gaily. Becky's bright smile, pretty face, and bouncing curls distracted all of the men except for one. He was the man who had whispered in the officer's ear, before. He had more strips on his sleeves than the others, and looked older than any of them as well. He kneed his horse up next to the Lieutenant again and said something else in low tones. "Yes, of course, Sergeant," said the officer. He looked at Bella. "We will bivouac with you tonight, for your protection. Wichita is off to the east and south, some forty miles or so, by my reckoning. It's a small town yet, but is said to be building steadily in anticipation of the railroad reaching it. We'll escort you far enough in that direction that you're no longer in danger from the savages." Bella slumped. What she was thinking was that the soldiers would now be with them for three or four days, and AJ would surely be discovered. The Lieutenant, however, took her slump for relief. "It's no problem, Ma'am," he said. "The men would love to make an early day of it. We have some meat that will make a good dinner. Perhaps your lovely daughters would be willing to prepare us a feast?" Bella's voice sounded strained when she spoke. "I fear it would tax our stores sorely, to feed so many." "The men will contribute their provisions, of course. Please do us the honor of having your company for a while." He didn't wait for her to agree, just going on. "Several of the men have harmonicas. Perhaps we can relieve the tedium of frontier life with a dance or two by the fire, tonight." Bella swallowed hard. She had to think of something quickly or this would be AJ's last night of freedom. What came to her mind was the image of a prune-faced woman she knew back east. It had been difficult to be her friend because it seemed everything Bella did offended the woman. "Ah ... Lieutenant ... I fear our religion forbids dancing." She straightened her shoulders and tried to look imperious. "And I suggest you husband the souls of your men more carefully, sir, lest they be exposed to the fires of damnation for engaging in ill thought frivolity. Next you'll be producing spirits and suggesting the men engage in drunken revelry!" She sniffed. "I appreciate your protection, but not at the expense of exposing my children to immoral behavior!" The lieutenant was clearly deflated. In truth, he found Bella to be a handsome woman, though she was somewhat older than himself. He had hoped to spend some time with her that evening ... perhaps on a walk in the moonlight ... where he might 'comfort' her in her bereavement. Clearly, though, such amorous activities would not be taking place. He put gravity in his voice. "No offense was intended, madam. My men will bivouac separately, but close enough to respond, should our aid be needed. I assume you'd prefer to gain as much ground as possible until the light fails?" Bella inclined her head, almost regally. Heading toward a frontier town with a strange name seemed as good a plan as anything else. And, in truth, if she could find some employment there, and could support her children, this adventure might have a happier ending than she had been fearing it would. She nodded and clucked at the team to get it going again. ------- Chapter 5 They were delayed while a soldier adjusted the stirrups on AJ's horse so that they fit Frank Jr.'s legs. He was ecstatic, now that he could ride the big animal without fear of falling off every time it changed direction. They started off again, with a line of soldiers flanking each side of the wagon. The wagon bumped and jarred as Becky and AJ tried to decide what to do. "You look enough like a girl that you might pass in the dark," she said. "But we must do something about this." She reached for the limp bodice covering AJ's flat chest and pulled it away. Her action created what looked like a single breast as AJ looked down. The girl rummaged around in the clothing stores and came up with two wads of cloth. She lifted the front of the dress, exposing AJ's groin again, but AJ was so distracted by the soldiers and his fear of imminent discovery that he didn't notice. Becky did, though, and used the opportunity to surreptitiously examine the fascinating thing that made AJ a man. As she reached under the dress to stuff the bodice with cloth, she stared at the second one of these she had ever seen. Her father had showed her his on more than one occasion when he was drunk, trying to get her to touch it. She'd been disgusted by that one, but this one was much more interesting for some reason. It looked, to her eye, like a poorly stuffed sausage with an exceedingly odd casing. It lay on a round mass that sprouted hairs in every which direction. She knew those were his 'nuts, ' because her father had showed her his nuts, which had looked somewhat similar, except were much more baggy. Her father had drunkenly told her there was something in that droopy sack for her. None of it had been interesting when her father had displayed it. She had learned that if she encouraged him to drink more, eventually he would fall asleep and her ordeal would be over. This man was different though and, while she couldn't have explained why, she wished she could examine it more closely. There was a tie that went around the dress just under the bodice and, once she got the cloth stuffed in the loose bodice, she tied that behind his back. Then she had to push and pull to arranged the "breasts" so that they looked smooth, instead of lumpy. AJ looked down, watching her manipulate things and felt his face flame. "This is ridiculous," he whispered. "If I'm found out they'll not only hang me, they'll be laughing as they do it!" "Nonsense," she said, standing back and examining him. "Just stay in the wagon until it's dark and don't talk to anybody. I'll tell them you're shy or something. As soon as supper is over I'll say you're not feeling well and you can get back in the wagon." "What about tomorrow?" AJ asked nervously. "We'll say you're still not feeling well. You can ride on the seat instead of walking. Don't worry. We can do this. Now, stand up so I can see the bottom of the dress." She saw, with relief, that the dress was long enough that it dragged the floor. At least his hairy legs wouldn't show. She couldn't find shoes. Even if she did they wouldn't fit. He'd just have to go barefoot. ------- Frank Jr. was on cloud nine. He was riding free in the wind and, in his own eyes, had been accepted as a man by the soldiers. He wished he had a gun belt like AJ had, but his father had only owned a rifle. He glanced at the rifle in the scabbard on AJ's horse. He was tempted to pull it out and carry it, so he'd appear to be in readiness for trouble. He decided not to hazard the wrath of his mother, though. He was distracted by a smudge of brown, off to one side in the distance, and urged the horse toward it. It was another cow. He thought carefully about what AJ had taught him. He was taken aback when the horse began acting on its own. Astonished, he found that all he had to do was hold onto the saddle horn as the horse did the herding, jumping and dodging as the cow bawled, its eyes rolling, as it was forced closer and closer to the wagon. Then the beast saw its kin and trotted to join them. Just like that, another cow had been added to their herd. ------- Sergeant Dickerson rode up beside the Lieutenant again. He nodded in the distance. "That ain't no farmer's horse," he said. "That's a cow pony if I ever saw one." "It appears that way," said Lieutenant Dobbs, who had lost interest in the family once he determined there was no exploration of the woman's soft body in the offing. "We're looking for a cowboy, Sir," said the Sergeant, thinking for perhaps the thousandth time what a waste officers were in general. "If he's with them why wouldn't he show himself," said the officer. "He's due a reward." "He might not know that," said the Sergeant. "Why would he light out after bagging such bad men otherwise?" "Perhaps he was afraid of retaliation by the men's friends," said Dobbs. "You know how anyone with a reputation as a gunslinger is always sought after by those who would boast of beating him." "The man we're looking for bested three bad men, Sir," said the Sergeant patiently. "He didn't stay around to brag. There's something funny going on." The officer shrugged. "Our mission is to sweep the area. If we find him, fine and dandy. If not, then nothing is lost. If he wishes to hide from us, that's not our problem. It's his. Why are you concerned about this, Sergeant?" "I just like things to add up," said the veteran. He knew that when you heard a story on the frontier, you likely only heard part of the story. He also knew that when an officer made up his mind, there was little chance that common sense could be brought to bear. Colonel Custer was a textbook example of that. "This is the frontier, Sergeant," said Dobbs. "Nothing adds up in these parts. Life is hard and people do the best they can. Take this woman, for instance. She sets out to make a new life and loses her husband in the process. But does she give up and go back home? That would add up. Instead she becomes a cattle herder and drives on, doing the best she can. She is the kind of woman that makes America strong, Sergeant. She is the kind of woman we're sworn to protect, so she can go on building a new life." The sergeant knew that if he stayed there, the lecture would go on, possibly for hours. He nodded curtly, said "Very good, Sir!" and wheeled his horse to go 'inspect' the columns. He watched the horse work the cow into the herd, though, and wondered what was inside that wagon. ------- The sergeant got his chance to see what was inside the wagon that evening, when two girls climbed out. One was the darling who thought she could shoot all the Indians before they took her hair. That one reminded him of his own dear Amanda, back at the fort. The second one, whose name had been announced, but which he couldn't remember, was taller and thicker, with more bulk. She went about lugging a pot to the fire. It was obviously too heavy for her, despite her muscle, but she got it there. Then she cut up potatoes into the pot, along with what looked like bits of dried meat. She seemed content minding the pot, stirring it frequently. He was on his way to talk to the girl when the Lieutenant called out to him. "Leave them be, Sergeant. She made it clear she wants no commerce between the men and her daughters." "I was just going to offer them some salt," said Dickerson. "Give it to the woman and then leave them alone," ordered the officer. ------- Arabella saw the older soldier walking toward them. AJ was bent over the pot, stirring it and she warned him softly of the soldier's approach. His hand looked entirely too masculine to her and she stepped forward, putting herself between him and the soldier. "Thought you might could use some salt, Ma'am," said the sergeant. "Thank you," she said, extending her hand for the small cloth sack the man was holding out. "Sorry to hear about your man," he said conversationally. He didn't sound all that sorry. "Thank you," she said again. "He must have been a pretty good cowman to gather all these strays." "He was a man of many talents," said Bella. It was obvious the man was trying to make conversation. The question was ... why? Becky came from the wagon with the bacon her mother had asked her to get. She smiled at the soldier. Bella felt silly standing there with a slab of bacon in her hand, so she handed it to AJ. "Matilda, darling, add this to the stew." She realized her mistake when his callused hand came up to grip the greasy meat. The sergeant leaned forward, peering in the firelight. "It's a shame your daughters have to work so hard," he observed. "A woman's hands should be soft and smooth." Bella held up her own reddened and cracked hands, dried out by sun, dust, and handling all manner of rough things for months. He looked at them. "Life is hard sometimes," she said. "The Lord sets us challenges, and we do our best to overcome them. Our pastor, back east, says it builds character and a home for us in the afterlife." The sergeant was suspicious, but he'd been told to leave them be. He made one more try. "Life is hard," he agreed. "I don't think the Lord would complain if you had things a little easier, though. I doubt that the Lord wanted Matilda to lose her hair, for instance." He looked at the bonnet, where no hair fell loose beneath it. The form stirring the pot stiffened. Bella felt her stomach tighten. It was all coming unraveled, and she felt like running into the night. She was startled when Becky spoke. "Lice," she said sadly. "There was a stray dog that ran with us for a while, and Matilda hoped to keep it. She let it sleep with her one night. The next day she was itching all over. Daddy shot the dog, but we had no medicine. We had to shave her poor head. That's why she wears that bonnet all the time." The girl shook her head and looked so mournful that Bella wanted to believe her. "We're hoping it will grow back by the time we reach civilization again. Please don't call attention to it again. She's awfully embarrassed about it." The sergeant nodded his head. "That's a shame indeed," he said, taken in by a mere girl. "Well, good night then. I imagine you'll want to be up and about early, to make time. I trust that our bugler playing reveille won't startle you." "Not at all," said Bella, relaxing a bit. "Have a good night." "We'll hold you in our evening prayers!" called out Becky happily. When the man got far enough away, AJ looked up. "Laying it on a little thick, don't you think?" "You just tend the stew, Darling," said Bella, feeling better again. "It smells good. You're a daughter a mother can be proud of." ------- U.S. Marshal Jeremiah Stone relaxed in the leather chair, reading a newspaper and catching up on things. He had delivered the photographs of the dead Fisby brothers along with his report on the mysterious "AJ" who had killed them. He had made it clear in his report that AJ was not suspected of any criminal activity, regarding the incident. It was just another episode of frontier justice, something the Marshal Service had been invented to try to curb, among other things. It was almost dark, and Stone knew he needed a bath before he went to dinner, but sitting there felt so good he was procrastinating. He saw motion out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see the irritated face of his boss, Jeffrey Tomlinson. "What are you doing just sitting there?" barked Tomlinson. "I filed my report," said Stone, sounding injured. "I'm just relaxing before dinner. I don't have a new assignment yet." "Yes you do!" said his boss. "We've got a rustling problem on the Chisholm trail. A herd showed up short in Abilene. They set out with three thousand steers and only twenty-seven hundred were delivered." "What makes them think it was rustling?" asked Stone. "If you'd let me finish you'd find out!" snapped Tomlinson. "The drovers had a body with them, apparently. Somebody came in during the night, killed the night watch, and drove off the cattle. Word is it's happened before, but for some reason nobody told us about it." "Where did this killing take place?" asked Stone. "That's the problem," said Tomlinson. "We're pretty sure it was in the neighborhood of the border between Kansas and the Oklahoma territory. When it happened some of the drovers took off. Only three men finished the drive, and they had their hands full enough that they didn't pay a lot of attention to landmarks." "So you want me to go find a rustling ring," said Stone. "That's right. A Marshal from the Oklahoma territory is assigned to work this in the Oklahoma territory. Whoever finds the rustlers is supposed to wire his headquarters and we'll put a group together to go make the arrest." "So we really have no idea where to look," sighed Stone. "No, but Fort Riley has patrols all over that area because of the Indian trouble brewing. That's where I'd suggest you start. If somebody's gathering a herd this way, it won't be on the beaten track." "I was just at the fort," said Stone. "I know who to talk to there." "Well get cracking. This has Washington's attention. Apparently the rancher who sent this herd up the trail has connections there." He shoved a piece of paper at Stone. "What we have is in here. About all we know is what brands were on the cattle taken. You'll need to hit the major shipping points to alert them about the brands. If anything with that brand shows up they need to wire this office." "I know the deal," sighed Jeremiah. Stone left to get his gear ready for another extended ride. Being out on the trail had been fine, but such trips should be interrupted by a week of wine, women and good food. ------- Supper was over, the pot and pans cleaned. Bella could hear music from the soldier's encampment, but she saw no dancing, of course. The men would not dance with each other. Not in front of a strident religious woman anyway. AJ had been silent all evening, his head bowed, his face hidden by the bonnet. Becky had taken hers off, now that AJ had an excuse to be the only female wearing one. "What do we do now?" she asked. "We go to bed and try this masquerade again in the morning," said Bella. "He can't sleep under the wagon again," Becky pointed out. "Not unless we all do, and I don't want to do that." "There's nothing wrong with sleeping under the wagon," said Frank Jr. "What about the bears?" said Becky, shuddering. "What bears?" asked Frank Jr. "Everybody knows there's bears in the wild west," said Becky. AJ laughed. "Nope, no bears. I've seen a puma or two, though." He grinned as Becky looked around, clearly worried. "There are no wild animals," said Bella. "Well there ARE bugs and such," said Becky. "And it's dirty," she added primly. "We'll have to fit him into the wagon," said Bella. "What about me?" complained Frank Jr. "You just said that the ground was fine," said his sister. "Yes, but not alone," whined the boy. The wagon had been packed with the women in mind. There was just enough room for Bella and Becky to lie down together. It was obvious that would have to be changed, or someone was going to have to sleep on top of someone else. Bella climbed in the wagon first and began to rearrange things. When she was done, all she had been able to gain without taking things outside was room for three people. Frank Jr. dug in his heels, saying he wasn't sleeping under the wagon alone, and Becky dug in her heels, vowing not to sleep on the ground, until Bella lost her patience with them. She ordered AJ and Frank Jr. into the wagon and told them to lie on their sides, on opposite sides of the wagon. Then she got in and lay down facing AJ, who was still in his dress, and still wearing his bonnet. Becky was left to crawl in and lie facing her brother. She grumbled until Bella told her to be quiet or she'd be ejected to sleep wherever she could find a place. In rebellion, she twisted until she had her back to her brother and her breasts were pressed against her mother's back. AJ took off the bonnet and stuffed it between his head and shoulder, like a limp pillow. Bella found her face inches from his. She couldn't see him in the dark, but his breath smelled of potatoes and bacon. She knew hers must too, even though she'd rinsed her mouth with water and rubbed her gums vigorously with a finger. She dreaded waking up in the morning. Frank's breath had always been awful in the morning. "Thank you," AJ suddenly whispered. "What for?" she asked automatically. "Everything. I got your husband killed, but you've been so good to me ... bandaging my arm ... letting me come with you ... the soldiers..." Bella's mind was suddenly a beehive of activity. She was suddenly aware of the intimacy of the situation. The body pressed against hers, though clothed in a dress, was that of a man. Further he was a decent man. He was so unlike her late husband that there was almost no comparison. She remembered his eyes, glittering in the light of the fire as she stood in the pool, naked. He'd seen her in the altogether. But he hadn't been coarse about it, or grabbed her, like Frank would surely have done. Frank had been a big believer in a woman's duty to submit to a man. But AJ had even turned around when she asked him to. Now, feeling his hard body pressed to hers, she was aware that she was feeling things ... improper things. This man was affecting her in ways she hadn't felt in sixteen years. "You're welcome," she whispered back, unable to think of anything else to say. His hand came to fall on her waist. It felt uncommonly heavy to her, for some reason. "I don't want to cause you more trouble," he said softly. "You haven't been any trouble," she returned. "If anything you've helped us a great deal." "Seems like a strange way to help someone." "Are you two going to jabber all night long?" complained Becky. She wiggled to get more comfortable and lay her own hand on her mother's waist. It landed on AJ's hand, which jerked sideways, but then lay still again. Becky could feel his skin against the edge of her hand. "Go to sleep," ordered Bella. "Maybe I should slip away in the dark," whispered AJ. "They have sentries posted, no doubt," said Bella. "And when I turn up missing a daughter in the morning, what do you think they'll do then?" "Oh yeah," he sighed. "Sometimes I don't think too clear." Bella remained silent. She felt the strongest urge to kiss this man, and it shocked her. She felt her face flush, and the sweet pain of her nipples crinkling and stiffening. "Go to sleep," she whispered. "Tomorrow may be a trying day." "Yes," he answered. Then it was quiet in the wagon. ------- Bella woke from a dream in which she was panting like a dog. The reason she had been panting was that, in the dream, AJ was acting like anything BUT a gentleman. In the dream she had recognized the place she was as the same bathing pool she had gone to sleep thinking about. But in the dream AJ was in the pool with her. He had been naked, like she was. They had been in a torrid embrace. She was quite aware that it was a dream, even while she was having it, but somehow she was able to watch the two people in it, while she felt the things he was doing to her. They had been delicious, gentle things, without a trace of the heavy, hurtful hand she had lived with for all of her sexual life. For that reason she had accepted what was happening in the dream, instead of being shocked by it. When she woke the images were still there in her mind. In the dark of the wagon she could still see them whether her eyes were open or closed. The first thing she felt as she woke was his face pressed to hers in sleep. His even, slow breathing announced he was, in fact, asleep. His hand, still on her waist, lay limp, rather than stroking her, as it had in the dream. She itched. It wasn't the itch of needing a bath. It was an itch between her legs and, at the same time, in her head. Her lips pursed, grazing his without conscious decision and only after they had done that did she realize what she had done. He didn't react. The itch drove her to caress his lips with hers again. Their lips were dry, but she grazed his so gently there was no sound, only the fascinating feel of a strange man's lips under hers. It led her to do something she had never done in her life before. Her tongue protruded and, with a feather touch, flicked against his slack lips. She felt like something inside her was swelling, and was aware of his body pressed hard against hers. Her hips wiggled and, in shame, she realized she was trying to feel his manhood. She tried to roll away from him, but was wedged in by Becky's form. Becky's head rose. "What?" her voice sounded dreamy. "Nothing," said Bella softly. "Go back to sleep." Becky's head sank back down and she smacked her lips and went still. It was long seconds before Bella realized that AJ's breathing had changed. It was faster. Instinctively she knew he had awakened at her speech. "AJ?" she said as softly as she could. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice just audible. "I had a dream," she answered. His hand moved and where it hadn't touched her before the skin under her dress got hot. "It was only a dream," he said. Bella, feeling like she was somehow in another dream, while knowing she was fully awake, lifted her hand and reached for his. He let her take it. She brought it to her breast and lay it there. Her hand then pressed his hand to her body. She realized she was trying to recreate the dream ... or part of it. She also realized that the vivid picture in her mind was fading, and mourned its loss. "It was a wonderful dream," she sighed, and only then realized she'd said it out loud. AJ's fingers flexed, gently squeezing the soft, pliable skin of her breast. Her nostrils flared and she sucked in air through them. Then he kissed her. Franks kisses had been brutal, crushing things that had bruised her lips, sometimes even cutting them on her own teeth. Thankfully, depending on how you looked at it, he hadn't wanted to kiss her all that much while they were having sex. His interest had been in leaving his hand prints on the pale skin of her breasts while he rutted in her, spending himself within minutes. Her experience with sex had taught her it was violent, but quick. This kiss was something completely new in her experience. It was soft, as if he were using his lips to massage hers. His face moved from side to side slowly and, to her delight, his tongue did the same thing hers had upon waking. Instinctively the tip of her tongue came out to meet his and they slid against each other like slippery, old friends hugging each other. She was suddenly aware of the thing she'd been trying to feel with her loins. There was a new firmness down there, pressing against her through the thin cloth of two dresses. For some reason that made her want to giggle hysterically. His manhood was cloaked in a dress! She suppressed the urge though, channeling it to her lips instead, and she pushed them harder against his. Now his kiss changed, becoming more forceful, but not the almost angry, demanding thing Frank had always done. His lips opened and seemed to try to nip at hers. When they found her tongue and sucked it into his mouth she shuddered at the explosion of heat it caused in her loins. His fingers found the nipple of the breast he'd been fondling and squeezed gently. Her sudden intake of breath was loud in the confines of the wagon. It was a gasp, half of fear and half of passion. ------- Chapter 6 Becky woke. It was still dark, but her mother was moving around. She had a hazy thought that she had awakened a few minutes ago, but wasn't sure it had happened. Her mother seemed agitated. It reminded her of the dog she'd spun the tale of lice about to the soldier. There really had been a stray dog, but it had been back home. She'd known her father wouldn't let her keep it, so she'd made a bed for it behind the shed, where no one would see the old box with a tattered blanket in it. She'd sat there, stroking the dog for hours. It was quite content to let her. And when it had slept, sometimes its legs moved and it yipped, like it was running ... chasing a rabbit ... in its sleep. She heard the sound of her mother gasping, and raised her head. It had been completely dark in the wagon when they went to bed, but the canvas cover of the wagon seemed to glow with an eerie dim light. She realized the moon must be up, its light making the glow she saw. There was a wet, smacking sound, and Becky raised her head higher. She could barely see that AJ's face was pressed to her mother's. In a moment of shock she realized they were kissing! She thought she knew everything there was to know about her mother. But in all her life she had never seen her mother kiss a man. She had some vague idea of what happened when her father dragged her mother into their bedroom and slammed the door. The noises that came from the room had scared her sometimes. And, later, when her mother came out of the bedroom, her eyes were often red, as if she'd been crying. But the noises her mother was making right now didn't sound like she was in pain or sad in the least. They were tiny noises, but they were happy noises. ------- Bella somehow knew what she needed, even though she had only rarely had that in her life, back when she was first married. She also knew she couldn't have it ... not in this crowded wagon, with her children sleeping right next to her. That knowledge brought the first sound to her throat that Becky recognized as frustration. "I ache," she whined, pressing her loins to AJ's. AJ was also aware that what should happen naturally had to give way to the circumstances. In a strange way he didn't really mind, because her willingness to do what they had already done was obviously and gloriously consenting. That suggested that it could occur again, in a more private setting. He remembered a saloon girl he'd spent a night with, blowing almost all his pay one time. She'd been an active and enthusiastic participant in their tryst, and had taught him how to use his fingers to delight her. She'd needed to be delighted a lot, and what men usually delighted a woman with hadn't been up to it, even as young as he was. And so, that night, he had learned another way to make a woman go limp. He tugged at the dress that covered Bella's legs and then used that knowledge now with Bella. ------- Becky's eyes jerked as her mother's leg suddenly raised in the air. The pale of the skin on her leg made it obvious that it was no longer covered by her dress. Her mother's sudden hiccupping moans suggested that something was going on that excited her a great deal. There was a sudden odor in the confined air inside the wagon, a musky odor, and Becky's nostrils flared open to test it with her senses. Her mother's head lurched forward and suddenly AJ's face was visible. She realized her mother had buried her face in his neck as the gasping moans were suddenly, but not completely stifled. Then her mother's entire body stiffened and everything went silent for long seconds, until the silence was broken by a muffled sobbing whine that lasted for fifteen seconds or longer before her mother's body went limp again. The sobs stopped, and was replaced with panting breathing, as if her mother had run from far away and collapsed in this wagon, magically somehow. Then there was a subtle movement of the wagon bed. Becky heard the big springs under the wagon squeak softly and rhythmically, along with the sound of skin rubbing against fabric in the same rhythmic pattern. She had no experience that could identify what she was hearing as AJ's hand stroking his stiff prick rapidly. And, when the movement suddenly stopped, and there was one muted groan, followed by more heavy breathing, she didn't know what that meant either. Eventually there was silence again. There were a few more of those wet sounds that Becky now knew meant kissing, but nothing more. She lay there, thinking about what had just happened, until the breathing noises she heard suggested that both of them were asleep again. It was long moments before her own eyes closed, and she drifted off to sleep again herself. ------- Reveille jerked them all awake. Bella sat up and saw her naked legs. She hastily covered them as both AJ and Becky struggled up. Frank Jr. stayed down. He was notorious for being hard to get up in the morning. It was crowded, until AJ lurched to his feet. He started to get out of the wagon and Bella grabbed the dress he was wearing. Wordlessly she handed him the bonnet he'd forgotten. He grimaced and put it on. For lack of any trees, the women went to the off side of the wagon to relieve themselves. AJ went with them, again tugged by Bella's fingers. When he saw what they were doing he faced away. The noise of liquid hitting the ground couldn't be concealed, though, and when they said they were done and he turned back around both had red faces. As they walked away he lifted the front of the dress and went himself. His fingers found the still moist evidence of his relief, the night before, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Bella handed out jerked meat and got the oxen ready to go. She told Becky and AJ to take the wagon seat. When Becky yelled at the oxen and shook the reins the oxen lumbered off. The soldiers were still packing up their tents. Bella was quite sure the men would catch up to them soon enough. She wanted it to appear as though she was, in fact, in a hurry to get to a town. She had no idea what she'd do when they got there, but she'd face that problem when it happened. In the meantime she reflected on what had happened in the wagon the night before. Her conscious mind told her to be ashamed, but she didn't feel that way. What had happened had been gentle and wonderfully relaxing in a tense kind of way. It was the first time in her life that a man had made her find that special feeling that, always before, only her own fingers could coax from her body. She somehow knew that what had happened last night was the way it was always supposed to be. She had been robbed of that genuine intimacy for her entire adult life ... until last night. It was impossible to feel bad that it had happened. She looked over at the wagon. AJ and Becky seemed to be chatting. She made a conscious decision not to feel guilty. That included the fact that she had never really mourned for Frank. She had already decided not to feel guilty about resuming intimacy with a man long before the requisite year of mourning had passed. It was relatively easy for her to ignore the problem that she wasn't married to the man she had been intimate with. That conviction was easier made than kept, however. As she walked she argued that, in one sense, they hadn't REALLY been intimate. They hadn't actually had sex. Another part of her mind laughed at that. His fingers had been where only hers and Frank's had ever touched her, and the feelings those fingers brought only whetted her appetite for more. That made her think about what might happen in the future. He'd been ready to fulfill the role of the man. There had been no doubt about that. She hadn't known what he was doing at first, as she caught her breath, but as his hand bumped her thighs and her mind supplied an image of something very near to what a man did in a woman, she realized that, as her own fingers had brought her release in the past, his fingers might be doing the same thing for him. That hadn't bothered her at all. She only wished that she might have some part in it the next time ... should there be a next time. She thought there might be. She hoped there might be. ------- Becky's mind was seething with emotion as she sat next to AJ and the wagon started moving. That emotion was responsible for her loud "HIYAH!" when she got the oxen moving, but it didn't lessen the turmoil inside her. Part of it was the memory of what she'd seen them doing the night before. Part of it was the fact that, for the first time in her life, she'd relieved herself right there next to a man, squatting with her dress raised, and the grass tickling her bottom. Her mother had too, and she was quite sure that her mother had never done anything like this before either. The fact that her mother was acting so strange, and that AJ was part of that strangeness, was both troubling and exciting. She was at an age where the hormones science hadn't discovered yet were coursing through her body, causing sensations and feelings she didn't know how to react to. As the wagon rumbled forward, she glanced at the bonnet that covered AJ's head. She knew what he looked like. She often thought of him as she'd seen him when her mother dressed his wound, shirtless and handsome. That made her wonder if her mother thought he was handsome too. She must, to kiss him like that in the dark. And THAT made Becky wonder what it would be like to kiss him herself. That caused a surge of emotion inside her that demanded to be expressed somehow. "I saw you," she blurted. He turned his head. "What?" "Last night. I saw you. I saw what you and Mamma were doing." She said it triumphantly, but she didn't feel triumphant. She felt miserable, for some reason. "Oh," he said. In fact, AJ had never been in this situation before. When he went upstairs with a woman in a saloon, everybody knew what was going to happen, but nobody ever said anything about it. He actually felt a little embarrassed, but didn't understand why. Becky felt compelled to say something else, but for the life of her couldn't think of anything to say. She was saved from her conundrum when AJ, feeling exactly the same way, said: "I'm sure you've done that before with some boy." Actually, he wasn't sure of that at all, but he hoped it would deflect attention from him. "I most certainly have not!" she squeaked, sitting up rigidly. "I'm a good girl!" That hadn't gone at all like he'd hoped, and AJ wished he'd just sat there, quiet instead. But he'd hurt her feelings, so he tried to mend that. "I'm sure you are." "A minute ago you were sure I wasn't!" she snapped. "Look," he sighed. "Sometimes that kind of thing happens between a man and a woman, OK?" He fiddled with his hands. "There's nothing wrong with it. People do it all the time." "When they're married, maybe," she argued. "It just happened," he groaned. "I woke up and she was kissing me, so I kissed her back." "Don't you blame this on my mother!" she growled. "I'm not blaming it on anybody," he objected. "That's what men and women do, sometimes. Sometimes they just need to do it. I can't explain it to somebody who's never done it." They rode on in silence for a long time. "What's it like?" she asked. Her voice was soft now, like she was asking him to tell her a secret. "I don't know," he said. "You did it with her," argued Becky. "You have to know what it's like." "It was nice." "That's it? Just nice? How come it sounded like both of you had just run a footrace?" "Ohhhhhh," AJ groaned. "What's wrong?" asked Becky immediately. "Are you sick?" "No, I'm not sick." "You sound sick." "I can't talk to you about this," he said. "You're going to have to ask your mother about all this." "I can't ask her!" Becky sounded shocked. "Why not?" "Because she'll know I spied on her." "I know you spied on us." "I couldn't help it," she whined. "You were making enough noise to wake the dead." "We were not," scoffed AJ. "We were actually real quiet." The noises that Becky remembered coming from the bedroom sprang into her mind. But this man and her mother hadn't done what they did in the bedroom. She might not know a lot, but she knew that much. Still, by comparison it had been very quiet. "I guess you were," she admitted softly. "I thought all mothers talked to their daughters about things like this," said AJ. "Do they?" Becky sounded hopeful. "I'm sure if you tell her you couldn't help seeing that she'll understand. And then she can tell you all those womanly things that mothers tell their daughters." "She will?" Becky sounded excited now. "I'm sure of it." "You sure are sure of a lot of things," observed the girl. She suddenly thought of a way to insert a cushion between herself and her mother, at least initially. "Will you ask her to talk to me?" "About that?" AJ sounded skeptical. "Of course about that," she replied. "What else would I be talking about?" "I don't know about that," he said doubtfully. "I don't really know her very well." "You know her well enough to kiss her over and over in the dark!" Becky pointed out. "Yeah," he sighed. "You make it sound so simple." "It IS simple, isn't it?" AJ thought about the whole conversation. In the two times he'd been with a woman before this, conversation hadn't been high on the list of things to do. He thought he understood why, now. Having a conversation with a woman was like walking barefoot amongst the cactus plants. He looked over at Bella, who was striding along strongly. He wondered what having a conversation with her was going to be like. ------- He found out a short time later ... in a manner of sorts. Perhaps ten minutes passed, with an uncomfortable silence between the two youths on the wagon seat, when Bella's direction of travel suddenly veered toward the wagon and she began walking beside AJ. "You look feverish," she said, looking up at AJ. "Huh?" He peered at her through the folds of his bonnet. "You look feverish," she said, almost impatiently. "Stop the wagon, Becky." Becky, just as confused as AJ was, called to the oxen and pulled hard on the reins. The wagon bumped to a stop. "Get in the back of the wagon," ordered Bella. "You need to get out of the sun and lie down." "I feel fine," said AJ, wondering if she'd gone sun-mad herself. "Just get in the back of the wagon!" she almost yelled. Then she turned and strode toward the column of soldiers on her side of the wagon. AJ looked at Becky, who shrugged. "You better do what she says," said the girl. Spending some time with AJ had worn the sheen off of his formerly adult status in her eyes. When they'd been talking he seemed just like any other boy a year older than her. Previous to that, he was an exotic and interesting cowboy. Now he had been transformed in her mind into an interesting boy. She didn't think about it consciously ... it had just happened. As such, her mother held status as the only 'real' adult in the little group, and should be obeyed. AJ climbed down and looked over at Bella as he slowly walked to the back of the wagon. She had approached the officer, who had stopped. She was looking up at him and they were talking. He had no way of knowing that she was asking if the soldiers had any medicine with them for fever, that she might give her "ailing daughter." All AJ saw was the Lieutenant shake his head, and Bella turn and begin walking back to the wagon. He hurried to climb into the back before she got there. Bella got the oxen's watering bowl where it hung from a rope on the side of the wagon and dipped water into it. Then she went to the back of the wagon and handed it to AJ. "Take this," she said. He did and she climbed into the back of the wagon with him. She called out to Becky to get the wagon moving again and a few seconds later they jerked into movement. "What's going on?" asked AJ, holding the bowl of water out in both hands so he could compensate for the movement of the wagon, trying not to spill it. "We need to talk," said Bella, sinking to her knees on the bed they had all used the night before. "All right," he said. "What do I do with the water?" "Just set it down somewhere," she said impatiently. "It was just a ruse so that we had an excuse to be back here together." "Why?" he asked. "So we can talk!" she snapped. AJ was about to say they could have talked before, while she walked beside the wagon, but he decided to stay silent. She was obviously upset about something and he had a pretty good idea what that was. He HAD, after all, taken liberties with her. "About last night," he said softly. Her frowning face didn't change. "Yes," she said tightly. "Take off that ridiculous bonnet so I can see you while we talk about what happened." "I thought you wanted that," he said, as he untied the bonnet. "I did!" she said irritably. "That's the problem." "Why is that a problem?" he asked. "It wasn't proper," she said, slumping. The change in her attitude was remarkable. Her face smoothed and she looked tired, suddenly. "It was a foolish thing to do, particularly with the children right there next to us." "Yeah," agreed AJ. "Becky woke up and saw us. She was asking me about it a little while ago." Bella's hands went up to cover her face and she moaned. Then her hands fell away and he saw her eyes were wide as she stared at him. "What did you say?" she almost whispered. He thought for a few seconds. He hadn't been prepared to have the conversation in the first place, and then it had happened so quickly that it was hard to remember the details. "Mostly that it was just something men and women do sometimes," he said. "Oh, and I told her to talk to you about it." She looked shocked. "Me? Why?" "You're her mother," said AJ, thinking this was all very odd indeed. "She wanted to know what it was like, and I told her that was something mothers talked to their daughters about." "No it isn't!" said Bella. "Well it should be," said AJ reasonably. "How else are they supposed to find out?" "Like I did," protested Bella. "Oh her wedding night!" "Oh," said AJ. He thought about all the stories he'd heard around the campfire, about women, and what men liked to do with them. He'd heard dozens of them before he was with his first woman, and that was why he'd known what to do when that first saloon girl wandered up to him and asked him if he wanted to go upstairs. "Seems like that would make things hard for her," he observed. "It IS hard," said Bella. "It was terrible!" "It isn't supposed to be terrible," said AJ. "Leastwise I don't THINK it's supposed to be terrible." He frowned. "Was last night terrible?" "NO!" she gasped. "That's the problem. Last night was wonderful." Her voice was a low moan that made it sound like she was lying through her teeth. "I don't understand," he said, more confused now than ever. The light coming in the back of the wagon suddenly diminished. They looked to see a trooper, riding his horse. He gave the horse a command and it began trotting sideways, bringing him closer to the opening. Bella lurched forward and manhandled AJ, making him lie down. She snatched up what turned out to be a shirt and dashed it in what was left of the bowl of water AJ had set on the floor of the wagon bed by the tailgate. She slapped the wet shirt in AJ's face and he gave a muffled oath. "How is she, Ma'am?" asked the trooper, leaning over and trying to see into the relative darkness of the interior of the wagon. In the bright sunlight he could only see that the woman was bathing the face of the girl. "She's better now that she's out of the sun, I think," said Bella, her voice trembling a little. "I'm trying to cool her down." "The sergeant says that if we come to a stream you can put her in it to cool her off," said the trooper. "Very well," said Bella. "Tell him thank you for me." "Yes Ma'am," said the young soldier. "Good luck, Ma'am." He rode away and AJ pushed the wet cloth off his face. He wiped his eyes, where water had pooled from the sopping cloth. "That was close," he said softly. "You know you can't actually put me in a stream, don't you?" he asked, somewhat anxiously. "Yes, of course," she agreed. She sat back, on her calves and looked down at him. "This is so odd!" she sighed. "It won't be for a lot longer," he said, thinking she was talking about the subterfuge they were engaging in. "When we get to town and they leave, I can get out of the wagon a man again." "A man again," she said, so softly he almost didn't hear her. AJ was wondering what to do now. He started to sit up, but her hand darted out to push him back. "You want me to lie here all day?" he asked. "It's safer," she said. "They can't see you in here." Her face changed, her eyebrows rising. "They can't see US in here!" she said suddenly. There was a subtle dimming of the light again, this time from the front of the wagon. Becky, knowing the oxen would keep walking in a straight line, had climbed up and poked her head in the opening, trying to see over the things stored in the front of the wagon. "What are you doing, Mamma?" she called into the dim interior. "Why did that soldier come over here?" "We're pretending Matilda is ill," called Bella without taking her eyes off of AJ. "I told them she has a fever, and needed to get out of the sun. This way they can't see him." "Oh," said Becky. She felt proud that she had thought of the same thing, the day before. "Just keep us going," said Bella. "I'll join you in a little bit." "All right, Mamma," said the girl, and climbed back down to sit on the seat. AJ had almost adjusted to this new situation, accepting the wisdom of keeping him out of sight as much as possible. Cowboys don't generally get a lot of time to sleep, what with being on the trail all the daylight hours, and having to take their turn on night watch over the herd. He had just decided that getting a chance to get some extra sleep in a nice soft bed for once was a pretty good idea when Bella leaned down and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. ------- Chapter 7 AJ had been kissed before. Both of the saloon girls he'd been with had engaged in that behavior. He'd stolen a kiss or two from a girl before he became a cowboy too, but he'd never been kissed like this. Bella's lips were hungry. She'd learned from him how delightful open-mouthed kisses were, and she used her new knowledge now. The kiss went on for long seconds as AJ began to ignore his confusion and return the kiss. When it finally broke, Bella's harsh breath produced a low moan that was on the verge of being a groan. "This is so wrong," she panted. At that point AJ, who had learned more about women on a subconscious level than he knew or could have articulated, did what a lot of men do in a situation like this. He simply agreed with the woman, so that there would be no disruption of the activity caused by having to argue. "Yes," he sighed, not even realizing he was lying. "We shouldn't do this," she said, as her face approached his for another kiss. He would have said "No, we shouldn't" except that her lips cut him off. He wouldn't have meant that either. She somehow managed to lie down beside him without losing contact with his lips as they engaged in another long, passionate kiss. His hand came up to cup a soft breast through her dress. Her chest arched and she moaned into his mouth as she found and sucked his tongue. Women have the capacity to startle a man in any given moment. He may think he knows exactly what's going to happen, but a woman can shove a stick in the spokes without warning. Bella broke the kiss and leaned her head back without ceasing the arch of her chest into his hand. "Last night was wrong," she said, her voice quite serious. This time AJ sensed, unconsciously that agreeing with her would not advance his cause. "I don't see why," he said. "You're a man," she said, as if that explained everything. "Take that ridiculous dress off." "What?" "We're going to be naked this time," she said. The stick stuck firmly in the spokes, and AJ was, once again, thoroughly confused. "What are we doing here?" he asked. "We're doing something completely wrong," she said. A man can only take so much. "Then why are we doing it?" he asked. She got to her knees, gathered her dress around her hips, and lifted it over her head, leaving her completely naked in front of him. "Because I'm going to go stark raving mad if we do not," she whispered. ------- AJ quit worrying about whether she was making sense or not. The night before, he'd known that anything more than what they had done would have been impossible. That had made it possible for him to satisfy himself, while he'd much rather have gotten satisfied the usual way. It had been all right, as far as things went. He'd never jacked off with a partly naked woman pressed against him, and it had been surprisingly easy to get off. It had been only marginally satisfying, though. Now he could make up for it. To that end he hurried to mount the woman. Perhaps some part of his brain feared she would change her mind, or start meaning the words she was saying when she said they shouldn't be doing this. The two saloon girls had known what to do, grasping his stiff prick and guiding it into them. Bella did not. She lay, in fact, somewhat stiffly. She was holding her breath, though he did not notice that fact. He lunged a few times, rocking on her soft body, crushing her breasts while trying to find her opening. It was exquisite to be on top of a woman who had that little extra flesh of cushion he'd never experienced before. Her breath rushed out and then was jerked back in in multiple gasps that penetrated his suddenly inflamed consciousness. He heard fear in those gasps. His only experience had been with lusty young women who were avid to get on with things. They had expressed some measure of caution, until it became clear that this boy wasn't one of the mean ones. After that they were eager partners, expressing only positive emotions, though some of that was contrived. As such, though, AJ had never experienced a woman showing fear in this situation. It was confusing enough to cause him to pause. He looked at her face, which was pulled into a grimace, and her previous comments about the brutality of her husband burst into his mind. The natural thing to do was reassure her. "I won't hurt you," he said. "Oh pleeease," she whined, remembering the gentle kisses he had given her the night before. "I won't hurt you," he said again, his voice steady. "I want to do this ... I want it bad ... but I'll stop if you want me to." An explosion of relief washed the grimace off her face, and it was replaced with rekindled lust as Bella reached for something she knew existed, but had never tasted before. "Please," she panted. It wasn't clear. He didn't know whether it meant "Please stop," or "Please don't." "Please what?" he groaned. His hips gave an involuntary push and the bottom of his shaft slid along the top of her split, electrifying her clitoris. Now she reached for him, suddenly eager to have him in her. She'd been thinking about this all morning, stalking along, stumbling on tufts of prairie grass because she wasn't paying attention to where her feet were landing. A raging argument had played out in her mind, wanting more, and then trying to deny that. The sweet release she'd felt in the dark of night had sung again, over and over in her mind, calling to her, telling her it could happen again. Her lust had won out, and then she was faced with the problem of figuring out how to make it happen. If she waited until night, she knew it would drive her crazy, because it was all she could think of. Besides, the children would be there with them again that night. At first she thought of stopping so that she and her "daughter" could forage for berries in one of the little groups of trees that sprang up on the prairie sometimes. Looking ahead showed no such copse of trees in which she might be able to sate her lust. The bed in the wagon was what she thought of next, and then the ruse to get them there. Then, once there, she lost her nerve again, until the lust simply burst out of her in the form of that first kiss. When AJ scrambled on top of her, though, the fear came back instantly. He wasn't as rough as Frank had been. He didn't slap her and order her onto her back. He didn't loom over her, staring at her in her wide open embarrassment, licking his lips and stroking his spear. But the quickness and urgency in his motions scared her anyway. Frank had always made her lie there without moving, until he was ready to dip the tip of his prick into her sex. He always did that first, and then arranged himself so he could slam into her so hard that she feared bruises would result. There was usually pain, because the emotions she experienced at those times weren't the kind that produce lubrication. Now, though, she knew she was wet, just like those times when she had been driven to satisfy herself. Her fingers never caused pain, and she hoped with all her heart that what was coming wouldn't feel anything like it had when Frank did it. She reached for the thing she hoped would not hurt her and, drawing a breath, instinctively lodged the tip between the slippery lips of her sex. "Please be nice to me," she whispered. AJ saw the trust in her eyes. He saw the faint lines of traces of fear there too. Suddenly the urgency in him abated. He was still inflamed, but now the thing he wanted to see most was a look on her face that communicated no fear or pain. He pushed slowly, easing into her, fighting the urge to slam forward. It was completely different than it had been those other two times. Her mouth opened and she sucked in air again, arching her back as if to make more room. It felt so good to push into the velvet heat of her pussy that he just kept trying to push, even as his balls settled gently against her skin. His pubic hair crushed into hers and the bone behind it mashed her clit. All the air in her lungs came out in one long sob of joy as she felt the delight of being filled with something that caused only streaks of joy to flush her belly full. Her arms went up, in concert with her legs, until she crushed him in a bear hug, digging her heels into his butt cheeks to pull him as deeply into her as possible. She closed her eyes so that she could concentrate completely on the proof that she had been right. It could be beautiful. For the first time in her life she was fully, and happily involved in what was going on. "Ohhhhh yessssss," she sighed. She became aware of muscles surrounding that hot, hard, delightful thing inside her, and they spasmed as they moved without conscious thought, squeezing to feel it better. AJ was astonished himself. As it had never been like this for her, it had never been like this for him either. This 'being careful, ' as he thought of it, seemed so much more personal. Aloysius Julian Hobbs, for the first time in his life, cared as much, or more about the woman in his arms, as he did for himself. It was as close to being in love as he'd ever been. More was communicated to AJ's brain by her snapping pussy muscles than by her face. One of the whores he'd been with had been accomplished at using those muscles, and that had been tied to words she spoke to convince him he was the best man in the world. She said that to all the men, of course, but AJ hadn't known that. What it had meant to him, though, was that she liked what he was doing. That conviction flooded his mind and his worry evaporated. He knew what to do now. He withdrew, and then slid back in. "Ohhhh yesss," she moaned again. Gradually, as a train builds speed, AJ's thrusts came a little faster, the rhythm building until it was no longer gentle. Arabella was long past comparing AJ to Frank any longer. She might as well have been a virgin as her body moved in new ways, reacting to stimuli neither her brain nor body had ever felt before. In a way, while a partnership had been established, each was in his or her own world as the exquisite sensations flooded their bodies. Arabella's body, stimulated by these wickedly delightful feelings, reached climax sooner than it might have, had she been more accustomed to the overwhelming pleasure that had filled her whole being. Again her muscles spasmed and she could not keep in the cry of completion that wracked her body. ------- Becky, sitting on the wagon seat, was bored. It seemed like the whole journey had been boring, except for the fantastic excitement that involved AJ and their subsequent flight from Abilene. Her brother was out riding AJ's horse, dashing here and there, looking for more stray cattle. HE was having the time of his life, obviously, while she was stuck here, sitting behind the plodding oxen. She was wondering what her mother and AJ were doing when her mother's anguished voice wailed from inside the wagon. It wasn't horribly loud, but it was a sound she'd never heard her mother make before. On impulse, she climbed back up, standing on the seat and wiggling into the hole on top of the only piece of furniture in the wagon, her grandmother's dresser. There were all manner of other things packed on and around the dresser, but there was enough room that she could wiggle through. She realized her feet were sticking out of the front of the wagon, her legs bare for the soldiers to see, but her mother's voice groaned again in a sob that was disturbing. She wiggled forward, her eyes adjusting to the dim interior of the wagon. She took breath to call out, but then held her voice for reasons she couldn't have explained. At first she couldn't make sense of what she saw. Her mother was lying on her back. That her dress was off was obvious because her legs were thrown wide and were bare. AJ was on top of her, and he was visibly naked as the day he was born. His taut white buttocks were rising and falling rapidly and she could suddenly hear the panting breath of both of them. The memory of their frenzied breathing the night before came instantly into her mind as she watched her mother's legs come up and slam into AJ's back. Her first instinct was that AJ was attacking her mother. What was happening looked very violent to her. The breath she'd drawn to call out with had been expelled, and she drew another to scream at AJ to stop, but before she could do so her mother groaned again. "Ohhh yessss! PLEASE DON'T STOP!" "I have to!" gasped AJ. His body thrust forward and then he seemed to freeze solid. His head turned up, his face scrunched as if he were in terrible pain. Had his eyes been open, he'd have been staring directly into Becky's face. Suddenly, the truth of the matter flooded Becky's young mind. She'd never seen it before, but somehow she knew exactly what they were doing. Among the conflicting emotions that exploded in her brain was the knowledge that she was spying on them. At any second his eyes could open and she'd be caught! She jerked backwards, just as another groan filled the wagon. This time it was his deep voice that produced it, as semen rushed through his penis, spurting in thick ropes into Bella's hot pussy. Becky's dress was up around her hips, her legs completely bare, when she wiggled out enough to get her feet on the wagon seat. As she settled onto her feet, she felt the heat of the sun on her bare buttocks and her hands fumbled to restore her modesty. Her eyes, suddenly blinded by the bright sunlight, darted to both sides, to see if any of the soldiers were looking at her. One swiveled his head, his eyes meeting hers, just as her dress fell back into place. She hopped down, her bottom slamming into the hard seat and the air she'd been holding in her lungs gushed out. She realized she was shaking, and bent over to pick up the reins so she'd have something to hold onto. As the reality of the situation sank in, it felt like the sun was directly on her face too, so hot it felt. She realized her mouth was open when a fly flew into it, and she spit and batted at her mouth with one hand in disgust. That distracted her for a few seconds from what she'd just seen. But only for a few seconds. ------- In the wagon AJ slowly collapsed on the soft form of the woman under him. His chin settled on her shoulder and he turned his head slightly to kiss her neck. She arched her head, pressing her throat against his lips and her hands stroked his bare back. Her legs slowly relaxed and fell to the sides. He kissed up the line of her chin, finding energy to lift his upper body and stare into her face. Her eyes were wide open, staring calmly back. He didn't know what to say. He kissed her gently instead, and her hands moved up to the back of his head to hold him there while the kiss lengthened. When it was over they looked at each other again in silence. Finally she spoke. "They may come check on you again." Fear stabbed into him, and he hated the feeling. He didn't want to move. But he knew he had to. They dressed in silence. He watched as her fingers went with practiced efficiency to her hair, making sure it was still in place, held neatly together with pins. Her hands fell and each cupped a breast as she closed her eyes. AJ felt his penis twitch. It was too soon to stiffen again, but he knew it was trying. "We shouldn't have done that," she sighed, letting her hands drop to her lap. He could not agree, and remained silent. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "But I'm so very glad we did." ------- What might have become strained, as both AJ and Bella tried to sort out their thoughts, was avoided by the sound of a running horse. The horse was running flat out, and there was a whoop that accompanied it. Both AJ and Bella jumped to the opening in the back of the wagon. Bella stopped AJ from sticking his head out and pushed him back. "The bonnet!" she barked. A horse and rider, dressed in buckskin, flashed by the back of the wagon just as AJ pulled back. "Scout!" he said in relief. He picked up the bonnet and, feeling foolish as he always did, tied it on. "You stay here," ordered Bella. She clambered over the tailgate. She could feel his semen beginning to run out of her, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She looked to see the Lieutenant, Sergeant and the man AJ had identified as a scout all clustered together. The scout was gesticulating back toward the direction from which he had come at a gallop. A soldier nudged his horse out of line and approached the confab. Bella saw him taking a brass bugle out of a leather pouch slung to his saddle horn. The Lieutenant spoke to him and he raised the bugle to his lips. A series of sharp notes erupted into the wind and lines of horses wheeled as one. The Sergeant began shouting, while the Lieutenant rode towards Bella. "Ma'am," he addressed her formally. "There is danger approaching. You must call your son back, if you can. I have no time to chase him down. All of you must stay with the wagon ... IN the wagon if possible." "Indians?" gasped Bella. "No," he said. He looked disgusted. "Buffalo hunters are driving a herd and our scout says it comes directly towards us. They are in a stampede. Nothing will stop them, but they will split to move around something as big as the wagon. You MUST stay in the wagon for your safety. We will try to cause the herd to move to one side, but I cannot guarantee it will work." Without another word he wheeled his horse and set out at a gallop after his men, who were already impossibly small, heading toward the horizon. Frank Jr., having heard the bugle, rode up, asking what was happening, as Becky climbed down from her seat to ask the same questions. AJ climbed out of the wagon. He'd heard the officer's words. "In the wagon!" he barked. There came a sudden trembling of the earth on which they stood. It was sustained, and easily felt. "HURRY!" he yelled. As they climbed in, he reached into the wagon where his normal clothes were. Snatching his Bowie knife from its sheath, he sliced through the rope that connected the lead cow to the back of the wagon. His horse stood nearby, head up, ears pricked forward, looking off in the direction the soldiers had gone. He wanted to climb up on that horse, but somebody had to tend the oxen, who doubtless be terrified by what was about to happen and try to bolt. "FRANK!" he yelled. The boy and his mother stuck their head out of the back of the wagon. "You're going to have to ride him," he said, holding up the horse's reins. "You'll have to keep him directly in front of the team. He's going to want to run, but don't let him. Do you understand me?" "He can't!" gasped Bella. "Yes he can," said AJ. "We'll lose the horse if he doesn't." He looked at the boy. "If you get separated from us, pull the reins to one side and then keep pulling until his head comes around and you can kiss his nose. Yell 'down'. He'll go down on his side and, as soon as he hits the dirt, you hide behind him. The Buffalo will jump over him, but you've got to make yourself as small as possible. Do you understand me?" "Yes SIR!" The boy fairly flew over the transom as his mother wailed. AJ caught him by the arm. They could hear the thunder of hooves now, and the prairie grass was actually trembling, vibrating above shaking roots. "You can do this," he said intensely. "Keep the wagon between you and the buffalo if you can. Lay him down if you have to. He won't want to do it. MAKE HIM, you hear me?" "Yessir," said the boy, suddenly serious. "I'll do it." The thunder was getting louder, and a haze of dust boiled up from the northwestern horizon. A line of black suddenly appeared, so wide that it filled the horizon. AJ knew instinctively that the soldiers could do nothing. "STAY IN THE WAGON!" he screamed, and vaulted up onto the seat as the oxen shuffled nervously in the traces, and he was suddenly glad Frank had been too ignorant to know that he should have gotten a yoke with the oxen. The bit for a horse wouldn't fit an ox's mouth, and Frank had rigged the reins to pull the beasts' heads toward each other when he wanted them to stop. It had worked pretty well, all things considered. It wouldn't keep them from running, though, no matter how hard he pulled on the reins, but it was better than if they had been harnessed in yoke, and had to be controlled by a man standing in front of them. He set the brake, which Becky had left off, and instinctively took a firm grip on the reins. He tried to speak soothingly to the oxen, but it was impossible now, without yelling, and that wasn't soothing. He saw Frank Jr. sitting his mount in front of the team, looking back over his shoulder. Some innate common sense had caused the boy to face the horse to the front, away from the coming danger. Still, the horse was dancing as the ground shook under its hooves. Then, like thunder, the herd was upon them, and AJ had no time for anything other than trying to control the terrified oxen in front of him. In the back of the wagon Bella hugged Becky to her fiercely, while the girl held on just as tightly to her mother. They had a prime view of what was coming at them. The black line on the horizon seemed to stain the land black as it advanced toward them. The black gradually turned to dark brown as the wiry-haired beasts, their black nostrils flaring, came stampeding directly at the back of the wagon. Both women screamed as the wagon vibrated and it seemed inevitable that two or three of the beasts would either ram into the back of the wagon or jump directly onto their bodies. Then, at the last second, the dark mass split, as if by magic, and rough hairy bodies flowed to either side. Every three or four seconds one of the animals brushed against a wheel, jarring the wagon until it seemed as if some unseen hand had picked up the conveyance and was shaking it like a child's rattle. Bella and Becky fell to the floor, clutching at each other. The wagon lurched forward, the brake squealing, but unheard in the din of countless thousands of passing hooves. The oxen actually jumped in the traces, their forefeet first leaving the ground, and then their back hooves, as if they were bucking broncos. AJ hauled savagely on the reins, pulling the team slightly to the right, to keep the wagon in line with the buffalo's direction of travel. His eyes flicked sideways to see the flow of dark animals flashing past them on both sides. Then he looked back up, ahead of the wagon, to where the split of terrified animals came back together again. His horse ... and Frank Jr ... had vanished. ------- Chapter 8 AJ looked around frantically, but all he could see was a seething mass of brown backs, floating in a sea of dust. They were packed so thickly that he couldn't even see the hooves that were raising the thick tan clouds. It seemed to go on forever, though it was only ten minutes. This herd was actually a small one, by comparison with the historical great masses that had roamed the plains for hundreds of years, utterly disregarding the few white men who came one day, and then those in larger groups, who began slaughtering them in obscene numbers. This plain was their territory, and they came and went in ignorance of their fate. That fate became audible, as the herd began to thin. Sharp reports could be heard. Bella looked over the transom, still shaking from the ordeal, and saw men mounted on horses, sitting bolt upright, the reins hanging untended in front of them. The men held rifles which they aimed, fired, and then reloaded. Each time they fired a big beast would stumble, fall and roll, raising a huge cloud of dust. The rider who had shot the beast simply rode on, aiming again, and firing again at a different beast. There were some dozen of the shooters, from what Bella could see before they came even with the wagon and passed, as if it wasn't even there. Then it was AJ who saw the slaughter. He knew that skinners would follow, and wagons after them, in a day's time. Men in the wagons would find stacks of buffalo hides, stiffened by sun, wind and time, and stinking in a way that required such men, if they stayed with the job more than a week or two, to have no sense of smell. What would be left, when the hunters, skinners and wagons were gone, would be only the corpses of hundreds of slain bison, rotting in the sun. Clouds of crows would come, and scavengers on four feet too, but a hundred times their number could not feast on the amount of meat that would lie there. Maggots would claim the rest. AJ had heard stories of this, but had never seen it. He hadn't believed them either. He hadn't believed there could be that many beasts in a herd. And he hadn't believed that men could be so wasteful. With the last of them, the oxen began to calm. AJ knew that Frank Jr. must have been unable to control the horse, and would be ahead somewhere. He was afraid of what he'd find, as he released the brake, and shook the reins, letting the oxen run off the last of their terror. At their lumbering trot, the wagon jounced so much that he had to hold onto the seat to keep from being thrown off of it. He heard the women yelling, in the back, but ignored them. There were two voices back there, raised in fear and anger. Two voices. That was all that mattered. ------- At first AJ thought it was just another dead buffalo lying to one side of their direction of travel. Then he saw the horse struggle to its feet, shaking like a dog just out of the water. Dust slid off its body like flowing water, and then clouds as it shook. He hauled hard on the reins, slowing the oxen and turning them toward the spot. As got closer he pulled up and the oxen, panting now, finally plodded to a stop. He could see the newly churned earth, devoid of standing grass, just like everything he had driven across thus far. He'd only gone maybe half a mile, but in that distance, all that stood above the prairie dirt were dead buffalo bodies, and now his horse. The wagon rolled to a stop just as the horse skittered sideways, and its head was jerked around and down. There, sitting on the ground, on top of the only grass within sight, was a very shocked, and very dirty Frank Jr. He was holding tightly onto the reins of the horse, though he wasn't really aware of it. He shook his head and dust fell from his hair in sheets as it moved. "DAMN!" he yelled. Then he grinned a stupid, shocked grin, his teeth looking impossibly white in his dusty, brown face. He stood, causing more sheets of dust to fall off his body. He looked up at AJ and said it again. "DAMN!" Two women's bodies rushed over the bumpy soil, appearing in AJ's peripheral vision. His horse whinnied and jumped, finally tearing the reins from Frank Jr.'s hands as it avoided the running women. They crashed into Frank Jr., who almost went down in a heap. Dust flew everywhere as hands searched for wounds. Eyes went to the little patch of grass that had been protected by the body of the horse and its rider from the hooves of the herd. Frank babbled about watching the bellies of a thousand buffalo sailing over him as they jumped the hurdle that he had created when, in abject terror, he did exactly what AJ had told him to do. He'd forgotten to yell, and couldn't have anyway because he was screaming intelligibly at the time. But it had worked. With buffalo all around him, he'd watched the world tilt, the skyline going crazy. Something had struck him hard on the shoulder, knocking the breath out of him and he'd come to his senses with thunder all around him, and buffalo leaping four abroad right over his head. After seeing dozens of hooves flashing by within what seemed like inches of his face, he'd just closed his eyes, burrowing his face into the rough hair of the trembling horse lying beside him. ------- The soldiers, once they'd seen the herd, had realized how fruitless it would be to try to divert it from its path. As if they'd practiced it a hundred times, the formation wheeled to the East and then they rode for their lives. They knew to angle away from the herd, trying to find the flank of the seething mass. Their horses could run faster than even the enraged bison, but by the time they got to the edge of the herd they had galloped flat out for two miles, and their horses were in bad shape. They rested their mounts, and then rode back to the west, hoping to find the wagon they had said they'd protect. ------- By the time the soldiers appeared again, things had calmed down. The land around them was still surreal, with its lack of grass, or more correctly its covering of cut hay, broken up only by the occasional dead bison. It was eerily quiet, other than the wind, which picked up whorls of dust ahd chaff and then dropped them again. Bella had watched the wind ruffle the fur of the buffalo AJ and Frank Jr. butchered. She was amazed at the size of the thing, and how huge the hide would be if it were spread out. AJ left the hide for the skinners, but took as much meat as he could cut away easily. There was nothing to build a fire with, to smoke the meat, but they would take as much as they could carry, hoping to find fuel later in the day. She heard the column approaching just as the last of the meat was loaded into the wagon, and shaded her eyes with one hand. AJ had already seen them coming and gotten back inside the wagon, where he was trying to store the meat in a way that would allow air to get to the slabs. He stopped long enough to tie his bonnet on with bloody hands. Bella's dress was ruined, soaked with blood and mud made with blood, as were Frank Jr.'s clothes. Outside Lieutenant Dobbs tipped his hat, relief plain in his eyes. He was no longer the sharply dressed professional soldier she'd seen before. All of the men were covered in dust, the blue of their uniforms muted to a dingy gray. He looked a little wilted. She knew she did too "I'm glad you survived," he said simply. "It wasn't so bad," she said. She felt the urge to laugh hysterically at the blatant lie. She felt almost giddy to be alive. "I'm glad to see your men made it too." "It looks like the wagon fared well," he offered. "All we lost were the cattle," said Bella. "So much work to gather them, and now they are scattered again." "Yes ... well," sighed the officer. "Where there are buffalo hunters, there soon follow unhappy Indians. I fear we must leave you, now that I see you are unharmed. If you maintain your direction of travel you should make Wichita in another week. I don't think you'll be bothered by anything between here and there." "We'll be fine," said Bella. And, for the first time since she started this journey, she actually believed it. ------- AJ peered ahead, wondering if the dark line he saw was trees, or some mirage in the heat. He hoped it was trees, because that meant water. He was a laughable figure, still cloaked in the now stiff and stinking dress, his boots and his hat. He didn't want to change into clean clothes, though, until he could wash the blood and stink from his body. They needed a fire too, to save the meat. They had altered their course, doing, in effect, the same thing that the soldiers had done to get out of the churned earth that was all that remained after the stampede they had lived through. All of them wanted to see grass again, and AJ wanted nothing to do with skinners. He'd heard stories about them too, and had decided to believe them now. It wouldn't do to have a crew of skinners happen upon two women in the middle of nowhere. If that happened, he was sure there would be bloodshed, and he still winced at the thought that his gun had already killed three men. They'd managed to recapture four steers. Bella mourned the loss of her milk cow, which hadn't been seen yet. They hadn't seen any dead cows either. It was likely they had just run with the buffalo until they could stop. By the time he confirmed that there was, in fact, a line of trees ahead, the light was failing. He told Bella, who was now sitting on the wagon seat with both of her children. Nobody wanted to ride in back. "I'm going to ride ahead, to pick a campsite," he said. "I'm going to take a bath too, but I should be done by the time you get there. If I can, I'll get a fire going and get the sticks together to build a drying rack. He leaned over to take the axe from Bella. It had been found and set aside, in preparation for this very task. He was just far enough away that he couldn't hear when Bella shouted to remind him he hadn't taken clean clothes with him. ------- AJ tried to get the dress clean, but it seemed hopeless to him. He'd discovered his lack of clothes as soon as he splashed into the shallow water in the creek bed. He had to lie down to get wet all over, but it felt wonderful. He had to work at getting clean too, waiting for the cloudy water his body produced to slowly be replaced by new. The bottom of the creek was muddy, but at least it was clean, fresh smelling mud, and it washed off easily. When he got done, and realized that the wagon would be there soon, he decided that the only decent thing to do was try to put the dress back on, but he wasn't going to do it until it was as clean as he could get it. When he was able to sniff it and get no trace of dead buffalo, he wiggled back into it. He put his boots on wet feet, which took a long time too. By the time he heard the oxen lowing for water, he'd managed to gather firewood and had cut enough branches to make a passable drying rack if he could figure out how to fasten the branches together in a way that the fire wouldn't defeat. He was trying to weave the branches together when his three traveling companions dashed past him, heading for the creek and ignoring him completely. He watered the oxen from the barrel, figuring they could refill it with fresh water from the creek, once the mud cleared. Then he got the fire going and tackled the meat. As it turned out, he got filthy again cutting the meat into strips to hang on the drying rack. The meat was dusty, with bits of grass sticking to it, and looked entirely unappetizing. He got the watering bowl again and dipped more water in it to clean each strip of meat off in. That worked pretty well, but a bowl of water would only clean five or six strips of meat before it was fouled beyond use. When the barrel was half empty, he decided to get water from the creek. He'd been so busy he hadn't thought of Bella and her children. When he got to the creek they were still splashing in the water. All of them were stark naked. It had started when Frank Jr. started ripping his clothes off, driven by the same demanding desire to get apart from his bloody, stinking clothes. Becky had chastised him, at first, but Bella told her to hold her tongue. Then, to Becky's consternation, her mother shrugged out of her dusty dress. "I'm going to get clean!" said Bella firmly. "We're all in the same family here. There's no shame in bathing, under these circumstances." "I'm not taking my clothes off in front of him!" yelped Becky. "Fine," said her mother, and sat down in the creek. She began bathing her upper body with handfuls of cool water. Frank, having gotten stripped down to his socks, stood, mouth agape as he saw his mother's ripe, womanly body bared to his eyes. He closed his mouth to gulp. His mother ignored him, and eventually he sat to remove his socks. Then he got into the water himself, and managed to keep his eyes mostly on himself as he sighed in contentment. He was upstream from Bella, and she turned her head to look at him. "You're making the water all muddy," she complained. "Sorry," he said, rubbing at a dark red blood that stained him to his elbows. He didn't sound sorry. "Well get done, or move downstream," ordered his mother. "You're dirtier than either of us." He got up and, wincing as his tender feet were abused by rocks and twigs, managed to move past her with a dancing gait. His young penis flopped, taking his balls with it. Becky stared at it, her own mouth hanging open. "Stop staring at him," said Bella. "All men have them. I suspect you'll be seeing one up close in the next few years, if I can ever find a man brave enough to take you." That shocked Becky out of her amazed reflection on what made her brother a boy. She meant to simply stamp her foot, but it landed in inch deep water and mud sprayed everywhere. "Becky!" groused her mother, washing mud from her breasts and arms. Frank Jr. sat back down, downstream, and happily started bathing himself again. He found that his penis had become twice its normal length, and was thicker too. Becky tried to take a bath with her clothes on, but it was obvious it wasn't working. Finally, in a fit of anger, she pulled her dress off. She looked downstream. "If you look at me I'll cut it off!" she warned. "No you won't," said Bella calmly. "He's going to need that some day." "Like AJ needed it with you?!" snapped Becky. Her face paled and she almost swooned as her hands went to cover her mouth ... too late. Her mother looked at her and blushed. That brought blood flushing into Becky's face and she looked away. "You saw us?" Her mother's voice was low and filled with emotion. Becky didn't answer. She wished she could bite her tongue right off. "You did!" gasped Bella. "I couldn't help it, Mamma," Becky blurted. "I heard you cry out and I thought something was wrong. When I wiggled in there to see..." She just stopped speaking and went pale again. Bella's reaction was a mixture of various thoughts that assailed her mind. She remembered AJ saying that Becky had seen them, the night before. She knew that her cries of pain, back in the bedroom of their home, had penetrated the doors and walls. Frank had laughed when she begged him not to hurt her, saying that the children would hear. He'd said that they'd both learn how to do this soon enough. He hadn't cared that she was shamed almost to death as she was unable to silent her sobbing cries. Sometimes, it almost seemed as if he made her cry out just so they WOULD hear. But what Becky had seen hadn't been like that. Bella hadn't had a lot of time to think about what had happened in the back of the wagon, before the buffalo came and things got crazy. But her initial reaction was that it had been something to be cherished. Even if it never happened again, she knew she'd never forget the pure joy of finding out what it COULD be like. "He didn't hurt me," she said, her voice almost choked with emotion. "My cries were of joy, not pain." Her daughter stared at her. "I know," she said, almost reverently. She blinked. "I mean I saw ... I could tell ... Mamma, I'm SO sorry I spied. I didn't MEAN to spy, but I thought..." "Hush," said Bella. "I know. AJ is not the kind of man your father was. You must understand that. I can't explain what happened ... but it was a good thing, please believe that." She slumped. "I should be ashamed, but I'm just not." Becky leaned closer. She was astonished that her mother wasn't angry about being seen. That confused her, and all the questions she had about such things filled her head. "Mamma?" Bella looked at her. "I saw you last night too." Bella colored again. "I know. AJ told me." "I tried to talk to him about it ... but he said I had to talk to you." Bella swallowed. She wasn't prepared for this, but she knew it would have to be done. "Perhaps we should talk, then. Can we wait a little while, so I can think first?" For Becky, her mother's assent was like being told she would receive arcane secrets, secrets known only by adults. That she would be trusted with this mysterious knowledge would mean she would be an adult too. She knew she was of marriageable age. She'd worried about that for more than a year now. She didn't WANT to be an adult ... not in THAT way ... not yet. It seemed like she could see the end of her childhood, hanging there, waiting to be plucked from her and tossed to the winds. That would happen as soon as she learned the secrets. Suddenly, she was scared to hear them. "Yes," she blurted. "Later." Bella could see the apprehension in her daughter's face. It reminded her of her own apprehension, the first night Frank took her into her marriage bed. She suddenly hoped with all her heart that the man who did that with Becky would be a man like AJ ... a man who could be gentle, and share pure bliss with her daughter. Becky began splashing water over her body fitfully. Her young nipples, shockingly pink, instead of dark brown like her mother's, stiffened as the cool water hit them. She felt the sensations of those nipples crinkling and, with everything else that had happened, was unable to keep herself from reaching to squeeze them. She knew that would feel good ... soothe the sudden ache and tingling in them, as if she were clapping a hand over a wound. There was splashing and she looked up to see Frank Jr. unashamedly standing there with his wet clothes in his hands. He stared at her curiously. Her eyes fell to his groin and she gasped to see something sticking straight out from his curly brown hairs, like a stick pointing at her. "I'm going to go put on dry clothes and help AJ," he said. That was when AJ appeared at the stream bed, holding the bowl he intended to fill with water. ------- Frank laughed at the look on AJ's face as he saw the two naked women sitting in the creek bed. Part of that laughter was that his hero had a look of pure surprise on his face, and it made Frank feel better to know this man COULD be surprised. The other part of it was that he was still wearing that damned dress. "You can put on men's clothes now," said Frank, grinning. AJ looked down at his again-soiled clothing. Bella had turned her head to look at him. Her face was calm, rather than agitated that he was there to see the family this way. It calmed him to see it. Becky's head was turned away, her hands frozen at her breasts, but not holding them, exactly. Nor were they covering them. He grinned as her hands did exactly that while he watched. "If I would have, they'd look as bad as this," said AJ. "At least this was already ruined." Bella stood up, and then bent over, splashing water on her bottom and thighs to clean off the mud. "Help me," she said, turning her backside to her daughter. Becky, mortified that AJ was standing right there, found some comfort in cleaning off her mother's legs, splashing water here and there. She realized her mother was preparing to leave the water. Frank Jr. was leaving too. What if AJ stayed? She jumped to her feet, so agitated that she was unable to be modest. "Let me get you clean too," said her mother. She turned away from AJ and her hands went to cover her breasts, even though he couldn't see them any longer. Her mother's strong hands cleaned off her bottom and the back of her legs. She was startled to hear her mother laugh, and turned around, again forgetting modesty. "We're as bad as him," she said, glancing at AJ. "We all forgot to bring clean clothes to our bathing spot." ------- It was full dark. The four of them sat clothed in clean garments that, after soaking up residual water from their bodies, the fire had then dried. AJ and Frank Jr. had lugged and rolled a log near to the fire, a seat for the women. Beans had been prepared, but what filled their bellies was bison meat. Bella groaned as AJ offered her another piece, stuck on the end of his knife. "No more," she moaned. "I'm going to burst." "Good stuff," said AJ, grinning. It was too. It was, by any standards, the best meat Bella had ever tasted. They'd used a bit of the salt the sergeant gave them to spice it with, but even without that it was delicious. There was almost no fat on it and, even though it was tough, and required lots of chewing, she had been unable to stop eating it. They had plenty. The drying rack was bent almost to failure with the weight of it. As strips were taken off to provide their supper, AJ added more, until there was no room for another piece. And there were still large hunks of steaks waiting to be sliced and dried. AJ had said it might take all night, and suggested they stay camped the next day. After their ordeal that day, all agreed it was a good idea. The men sat, legs straight, leaning back on their arms to compensate for overstuffed bellies. The women sat up straight on the log, doing the same thing. "Bed on a full belly of hot food just can't be beat," said AJ. "You all go ahead. I'll be up most of the night. I can get some sleep in the morning." "I have to sleep under the wagon again, don't I?" asked Frank Jr. "Me and AJ, he added." Bella looked at her daughter, who was staring back at her. She couldn't quite tell what was in Becky's eyes. She nodded. "That would be best." "Shucks," said Frank Jr. "I kind of liked sleeping all pressed together like that. Becky's all soft and warm." Becky made a little sound in her throat, and blushed, remembering how Frank had stood right in front of her with his thing pointing right at her. "Someday you'll sleep with a nice girl every night," said Bella, and then blushed herself. "Can I stay up and help AJ?" asked the boy. "No, I'm going to do that," said his mother. Again Becky stared at her mother. Bella glared at her, as if to say "Who is the mother here?!" Instead, she said "Go on. I'll be there in a bit. Did anybody feed the oxen?" Frank hit his head with the palm of his hand, making it obvious he'd forgotten to do his job. "I'll do it," said Bella. "I suspect you're going to want to go hunting cows tomorrow, if AJ will still let you ride his horse." Frank brightened up at that idea and looked hopefully at AJ. "You proved you could do it," said AJ. "You're a real cowboy now." "Wow!" sighed Frank. "Good night everybody!" He bounded off Becky left more slowly, with many looks over her shoulder at her mother and AJ. Bella ignored her and set about getting a pan of oats for the oxen. AJ unharnessed them and made hobbles so they could graze. One of them licked his hand, almost as if in gratitude. He was replacing meat on the drying rack when Bella got finished and came over to sit down, across the fire from him. "Some day," commented AJ. "Hmmm. You look much better in man's clothes. I always liked that shirt. I just didn't care much for the man who wore it." AJ looked at what he would have sneered at as a farmer's shirt, a week ago. Now he was glad to have it. "You look better in no clothes," said AJ, almost idly. Bella flushed and then frowned. "That's a crass thing to say to a woman." AJ snorted. "To a stranger, maybe ... but we're not strangers any more ... are we. I was just telling the truth." He grinned. "Not that you're plain while dressed," he added. "You haven't spent a lot of time around ladies, have you." she commented dryly. "Haven't wanted to until now," he said. Bella felt so hot that she unconsciously fanned her face. She knew it wasn't the fire that was causing the heat, but she scooted farther away from it anyway. He WAS crass, but she marveled at how good he could make her feel while being that way. "Becky told me she saw us," she said, changing the subject. "While we were down at the creek," she added. AJ moved some meat around, turning some pieces over so the other side would face the fire. "What was that all about, anyway?" he asked. "I mean all of you, naked as jaybirds, and Frank Jr. sporting a stiffy to boot." "You have to get naked to take a bath," said Bella carelessly. "I never seen no whole family naked before," said AJ. "And I never seen a whole family taking a bath together either." "Do you think we were wrong to do so?" asked Bella a little stiffly. "Nope," he said. "My mamma didn't look anything like you. I did have a sister ... still do, I suppose ... she don't look like Becky, though. But if they HAD looked like you and Becky when I was growing up I'd have sure liked to take a bath with the both of them." "You're awful!" scolded Bella. "Am not," he said. "I just say what's on my mind." Talk seemed to peter out then, and they tended the drying rack together. Bella remembered putting an empty salt sack in the wagon behind the driver's seat, and got it. She started stuffing it with buffalo jerky. When it was full there was still a large pile ready to go. "How will we keep this?" she asked, frustrated. "We can fill a flour sack," he said. "Or an oat bag if you've got one of those." "But they're so big!" she said. "Won't be heavy, though," he commented. "Not with jerky in them." "I suppose you're right." She sighed. "I'm not used to all this." She looked at him out of the side of her eyes. "I'm not used to what we did either." "You've got a whole lot more experience at it than I do," said AJ. She tilted her head and stared at him. "I wish I were fifteen years younger." "Why?" "I'd chase you down and hogtie you," she said smiling. "Wouldn't have to chase me," he said, smiling back. "You make me want to do the most awful things," she sighed. "Now?" he asked. "There's already somebody in the bed." "No, not now," she said firmly. "I lost all control today, and my own daughter saw me do it. I told her, and I'll tell you too ... I should feel ashamed, but I don't." "Me either," he said. "I have to tell you that was the best time I ever had in my whole life." She blushed and almost got up to go to him. Her heart was beating faster. She knew if she DID go to him, she'd end up on her back right there in the dirt, and she didn't want that. Not like that, anyway. "I should go to bed," she said, standing. "I hope you have good dreams," he said. "How about that sack before you go?" "There's an empty flour sack in the back of the wagon, but I don't remember where I put it. It will be dark in there." "I don't want to leave this out where critters will be tempted," said AJ. He walked in circles around the fire, picking up sticks until he had a handful of kindling. He told her to go get ready to look for the sack and then bent over, putting the bunched ends of the sticks into the coals of the fire. When they were burning, he took his makeshift torch to the back of the wagon and held it up into the opening. He had to hold the bundle sideways to keep the sticks burning, but a few minutes later a hand came out of the back of the wagon with a limp white sack in it. He took the sack, said "Good night," and went back to his work. ------- Chapter 9 The next morning, while AJ slept, Frank Jr. rode out and found two more cows. He was pretty sure one of them was one of the ones they'd already had, because it walked right towards him when he saw it, and followed him back to the wagon, instead of having to be driven. Bella and Becky did mending, sitting in the shade of the trees. They were quiet for a while, and then Becky said "Can we have that talk now?" Bella nodded. Becky waited a long time and then said "Well?" "I thought you had questions," said her mother. "Oh," she said. She DID have questions, but it seemed so odd to be asking them of her mother. She started with a small one. "Last night, when you said it was bedtime." She looked a little flustered, but went on. "When Pappa was still with us, you used to make me and Frank Jr. sleep under the wagon." "Mm hmm. Husbands and wives sleep together," she said. "So that's why you didn't make us sleep under the wagon, so you and AJ could have the bed ... because you're not married." "No," said Bella. "I knew that it would upset you if AJ and I slept in the wagon." "It DOES upset me," said Becky. "But I don't know why!" "I'm your mother. Your father is dead. Of course it would upset you that I was with another man." "It's not that," said Becky, though she didn't sound too sure. "I hated Pappa, and I know he hurt you. But AJ wasn't hurting you. I knew that before you said so yourself." "It's true," said Bella. "There was no pain at all with AJ. He was very sweet to me." "So why did you do it with Pappa, if he hurt you so much?" "Your father didn't give me a choice," said Bella. She wished she didn't have to speak ill of the dead, but the fact was that Frank had been a beast. She had known that on one level, for years and years, but had thought that was just how men were ... all men. She had only recently learned how wrong she had been. She had learned it from AJ, a man almost young enough to be her son. What seemed even more bizarre to her was that in the past, AJ would have been the last kind of man she would think she'd be interested in. She was quite sure she'd never have thought of having any kind of relationship with a cowboy, and particularly not one who was ten or twelve years younger than she was. Becky was silent for a few minutes, while she worked up the nerve to ask another question. "So ... what's it like?" "What's what like?" asked Bella. "Doing that ... with AJ?" It was a simple question, and a logical one, considering that Becky had never been with a man. But the answer was quite complicated, and Bella didn't know where to start. It still seemed insane that she was having this conversation in the first place. People just didn't talk about this kind of thing! "Well ... it feels good," said Bella helplessly. "That's it? It just feels good?" "It feels better than most things," Bella tried. "Like the sun on your arms when it's chilly?" "Better than that," said Bella. "Like when I'd get hurt and you'd hug me?" "Even better than that." Becky frowned. "But it wasn't like that with Pappa." "That's right," said Bella. "Then I still don't understand why you wanted to do it with AJ, if it had never been like that with Pappa." Bella had wondered the same thing, to be honest. Even while she was feeling the urge to kiss AJ, that first time, in the dark of the night, she'd been confused as to why she wanted to. And when his fingers found her sexual center, and she'd raised her leg to give them more room, she hadn't understood why she was letting this man do that, or why she wanted him to so badly. She knew that at some point she'd just stopped thinking about it, because it had been so new and so wonderfully satisfying. The next day, in the back of the wagon, she'd submitted to her overwhelming desire to feel that again, only to find out that there was so much MORE that was delicious and wonderfully satisfying. "It's hard for me to explain, because I'm not sure I know myself," Bella admitted. "I think that nature plays some role in it. I felt things, which made me do things ... or let him do things ... and then that made me feel more things, which made me do more things." "What kind of things?" asked Becky. "This is a very personal thing to ask!" complained Bella. "How am I supposed to learn if you won't tell me?" Becky complained right back. Bella sighed. Then her fact got hot as she thought about the "things" Becky was asking about. She decided to start small. "Well ... kisses are first." "Yes, I saw you kissing him in the middle of the night," said Becky. "It sounded all slurpy and wet. When you kiss me or Frank Jr. it doesn't sound like that, though." "Well, it's a different kind of kiss, I suppose," said Bella. "At least it feels different." "OK," said Becky, who wasn't really interested in kisses. She knew people kissed. She wanted to get to the other parts. "So what comes after kissing?" It was easier for Bella to just remember what happened than try to think intentionally about how this should be done. Of course the next thing they'd done involved his hand on her breast. She felt a thrill go through her as she remembered his fingers gently squeezing her nipple. It had been so lovely, especially compared to the way Frank had always mauled her sensitive flesh. Then she remembered seeing Becky squeeze her own nipples in the creek. "Remember earlier, in the creek, when we were bathing?" "How could I forget," sighed Becky. "Frank Jr. AND AJ saw me naked!" Bella was distracted by this comment, because there was the potential there for enlightenment on Becky's part. "How did that make you feel?" "Embarrassed." "Why? Did anybody say you were ugly?" "Of course not, but they looked at me naked!" "OK, but I want you to try to get beyond the social convention that says you're not supposed to appear in front of a man naked. How did it make you FEEL ... as a WOMAN ... when they looked at you?" "I don't know ... nervous, I guess." "Why?" Bella bored in. "Were you afraid of them?" "No." "Then why did they make you feel nervous?" Becky thought about that. Frank Jr. had simply stared at her. There hadn't been anything on his face except interest. And lower down ... was that interest too? She'd been too embarrassed to look at AJ's face when he saw her. She'd felt weak when that happened. "I don't know," she finally answered. Bella sighed. Obviously being seen naked hadn't excited the girl. She remembered how AJ had looked at her, there in the wagon. The look in his eye hadn't been anything like what Frank displayed. The way AJ looked at her made her feel beautiful. It had made her want him to do more. She went back to her original thought. "Do you remember when you splashed water on your breasts in the creek?" Her blush had faded, but it came back as she formed her next question. "Do you remember how you squeezed your nipples?" Now it was Becky whose face turned pink. "Yes." "Why did you do that?" "I don't know. They tingled, or something. I just knew it would feel good to squeeze them." "That's the same kind of thing that happens with a man," said Bella, relieved that she'd found some common ground. "Sometimes you just know that if a man does something, it will feel good." "Oh." "But it has to be the right man," said Bella, thinking about Frank again. "How do you know he's the right man?" "That's the complicated part," said her mother. "Feeling things comes naturally. I felt those things with your father too ... at first. But then I found out he didn't care about how I felt. He only cared about the things that excited him." "And hurting you excited him?" Becky sounded incredulous. "Yes," admitted Bella. "I didn't know that until it was too late, when we were already married." "Well how is a woman supposed to know that before then?" asked Becky, clearly frustrated. "I don't know," admitted Bella. "You know that about AJ ... right?" Bella wasn't sure how to respond. Society would say that what she'd done with AJ was a terrible thing, a sinful thing. But she HAD learned something very valuable from it. She had learned that he was a gentle, caring man, who made her feelings at least as important as his. "Yes, but in this world you're not supposed to do what I did. Not just to find out if he treats you well, anyway." "That doesn't make any sense at all," sighed Becky. "None of this makes any sense. Nature makes you want to do things, but you're not supposed to do them until you're married, except that then you have no choice in the matter. That just seems stupid." "I agree," said Bella, surprised to find that she did agree that the system, as it was currently set up, wasn't very efficient ... at least not in terms of producing happiness." "OK, so why did you let AJ do that again?" Bella didn't feel like they were making any progress, but she didn't know what else to do. Finally she retreated to a simple description. "I woke up and AJ was right there, of course. I was feeling lonely, I guess, and AJ ... I know this sounds terrible, but because of him, the man who hurt me all those years was gone, I was thankful for that." She stopped, feeling awful that she was glad Frank was dead. Her daughter surprised her. "I understand, Mamma. "I'm glad he's gone too. I don't feel bad about that. He did terrible things to you, and I know he would have done them to me too. He TOLD me he was going to do them. He didn't say exactly what they were, but I knew it hurt you, and that it would hurt me too." Anger burst forth in Bella, and it actually made her WANT to tell her daughter how good it could be. "Yes, well, I felt like I wanted to kiss the man who had done this. So I did, and he woke up, and he kissed me back, and it was a sweet, wonderful kiss, and it made me want to kiss him some more." "Yes." Becky sensed that the kind of details she was interested in might be forthcoming. She leaned towards her mother unconsciously. "And the kisses made me want to feel his hands on my ... um ... body, so I put his hand ... um here." She cupped one breast briefly and then dropped her hand hastily. "And that felt so wonderful, because he was so gentle. Nature made me want to let him do so much more, but you children were right there, and there wasn't room. He wanted to touch me other places, though, and I let him do that." She paused and swallowed. "Where?" Becky's eyes sparkled. THIS was what she'd wanted to know. Bella's courage began to fail. She thought intentionally of Frank, mauling his own daughter, and the anger came back, letting her go on. "There is a place ... a spot between a woman's legs ... that can be touched in a way that is ... um ... delightful. If touched enough, and in the right way, it can bring a kind of relief that is astonishing." Becky's eyes had gone wide open and her face paled. "What's wrong?" asked Bella. "I know that place," whispered Becky. Her pale face suddenly turned bright pink. "You've touched yourself there." Bella felt an astounding relief flood through her. She'd learned how to touch herself that way accidentally, while bathing one time. She'd somehow known not to mention that to anyone, and had thought for years that she was the only woman who did such things. To find out that another woman, even if it was her own daughter, had discovered it too made her feel much better. "I thought it was wrong to do," said Becky, her voice very soft. "I don't think so," said Bella. "And when a man touches it, just the right way, it feels even better." "How could it feel better than it already does?" asked Becky, sounding doubtful. "Believe me, when he does it right, it's better." "Did AJ do it right?" Bella swallowed. So far Becky hadn't become scandalized, which was what she'd been worried about. This wasn't turning out as badly as she'd been afraid it would. "He did it perfectly," she whispered. Becky, who was now completely enthralled with this whole process, leaned forward even more. "What then?" she asked breathlessly. "Well, as I said, with you and Frank Jr. right there, I had to be satisfied with that. I wanted to do more, but I couldn't." Becky was a smart girl. "So that's why you said AJ had a fever ... so you could get him in the wagon ... to do more?" "It was more complicated than that," Bella started. Then she realized that she'd arranged things, either intentionally or not, so that it could happen. She'd had misgivings, but her lust had driven her to make it possible. "In the end ... I suppose that's a fair statement," she finished. "And what's THAT like?" asked Becky breathlessly. Bella was losing her courage again. Even thinking about Frank, forcing himself on Becky produced only loathing, rather than the kind of anger that might have let her describe, in detail, what had happened then. But she knew Becky wouldn't be satisfied if she said nothing. "Sweetheart," she said. "I can't tell you more than this. I never enjoyed it with your father. Not once. With AJ ... it was wonderful. It was better than anything I ever hoped for." Becky remembered her mother's agonized "Ohhhh yes!" That groan had made something hot form in the pit of Becky's stomach. Despite how horrified she'd been at seeing what she was seeing, it was actually the source of her continuing curiosity about this whole phenomenon. On a subconscious level, it had made Becky Mortenson want to find out what kind of feeling would produce a groan like that. ------- Bella called a halt to the discussion then. Becky had much to think about, so she didn't actually mind, once she got her mother to promise that there would be more of this kind of talk in the future. They worked on in companionable silence, doing their mending. Half an hour later Frank Jr. rode in, herding another cow. They had six now, though none of them were milk cows. Frank was hot and dusty as he dismounted and came to where they were sitting. "I'm hungry," he announced. Bella had found the big flour sack of jerky that AJ had put inside the back of the wagon during the night. She went to it now and pulled out several pieces of jerky. She handed them to her son. "Eat these for now," she said. "We'll cook again tonight." She looked at her son, realizing that he seemed to have grown while she wasn't watching. He looked taller than she remembered. His shoulders were wider too, and his face was turning brown, most likely from being in the sun so much, recently. His nose looked pink where he'd gotten too much sun. "You need to start wearing a hat," she suggested. "Don't have one," he said. "Your father wore his into that saloon," said Bella. "We'll have to get you one somewhere." She sighed. "Hats cost money, though." Frank Jr. frowned and then said "You know, I plumb forgot, what with all the excitement, but I counted that money you threw in the back of the wagon when Pappa got killed. I put it in your dresser so it wouldn't get lost." "How much was there?" asked Bella. "There was two hundred and twenty dollars in paper money," said Frank. "I forget what the coins added up to." "Two hundred dollars?" gasped Bella. That was only half as much as she thought Frank had gone into the saloon with. "Yup," said Frank. "I counted it twice. It was the most money I ever seen." Bella's stomach felt heavy. She'd had snatched up the money on impulse, trying to save what she could from the horrible situation. She wasn't sure, but she didn't think two hundred dollars would be nearly enough to make a new start. The hard spot in her heart grew a little larger as she thought about how Frank had thrown away their chances of a decent life. If there had been any vestige of sorrow that he was dead, it was gone now. ------- AJ didn't wake up until the sun was past its zenith. In discussing whether to move on or not, they decided that this was a good enough campsite that it was worth staying another night, rather than end up having to camp on the trackless prairie when night came. With inactivity, however, came boredom, particularly for Becky. The mending was finished. Her mother was doing some fancy sewing on the collar of a dress, but Becky wasn't interested in learning how to do that. There was no more meat to preserve. She asked about looking for berries, but AJ said he didn't think they grew on this kind of land. AJ called Frank Jr. in and unsaddled the horse, taking the bridle off too. She watched as AJ took some fat drippings and rubbed them into the leather of his saddle. When he saw her watching he handed her the bridle and pointed to the drippings. She didn't like the feel of the oily, smelly stuff, but began sliding the leather through slippery hands anyway, just for something to do. Frank Jr., unable to keep practicing his cowboy skills because AJ was doing maintenance on the saddle, was trying to get the cows he'd gathered to let him pet them. Only the one that had followed him back to the camp let him get close, but still wouldn't let itself be touched. He eventually wandered over to where AJ and Becky were working. "Can I see your gun?" he asked AJ. Bella looked up from her work. "Why?" asked AJ. "I never held one before." "Guns are for killing," said AJ. "Why would you want to hold one?" "Who are you planning on killing?" the young man asked, without really thinking about it first. "Frank Jr.!" snapped his mother. "What a horrible thing to say!" AJ answered anyway. "It's all right. I'm not planning on killing anybody." "Then why are you wearing it?" AJ felt irritated. His thoughts about guns had changed a bit, since using one for more than shooting at bottles and knotholes. He put it on out of habit, more than anything else, and because it might be needed. He hoped it wouldn't be needed, but the possibility was there. "It's a tool," he said finally. "I thought you said it was for killing," said Frank. AJ let out a little of his frustration. "I'm not proud that I shot those men," he said, his voice tight. "Why not?" asked Frank. "They was going to shoot you. They DID shoot you." "That was only because I butted into their business," said AJ. "If I'd have kept my mouth shut, it wouldn't have happened." "Why DID you butt into their business?" asked Frank. "They were cheating your father," AJ responded. "I know that," said Frank. "But it wasn't YOUR money they were stealing, so why'd you say anything?" Bella was already upset with her son for questioning AJ like this. She knew that AJ had tried to do the right thing, and Frank Jr. was browbeating about it. It was the kind of thing his father might have done, deriding someone for doing the moral thing. Because of that she spoke impulsively. "Because he bet your sister on that hand." Her eyes widened, and one hand went to cover her mouth, though it was much too late. "What do you mean?" asked her son. Becky had stopped oiling the reins and was looking at her mother with glazed eyes. They cleared and went wide as saucers. "I remember that!" she gasped. "You said 'He bet, Becky' and I thought that just meant you were telling me he was betting. It didn't make any sense then, because you were screaming all kinds of things. But it meant he bet ME!" She looked confused then. "What DOES that mean?" Becky asked, looking at both AJ and her mother. AJ realized what had happened. Apparently she had only told them part of the story. He could understand that, considering what the part she'd left out was about. "It doesn't matter," said Bella, her voice choked. "That's all in the past." "Mother, I want to know what that means!" insisted Becky. "You can't bet a person in a poker game. But you said he did." Bella looked at AJ helplessly. "They're pert near grown," he said. "You may as well tell them." Bella sobbed suddenly. "I can't," she moaned. "Not that." She got up and ran toward the creek. Her two children watched her go, but stayed where they were. Their gaze turned on AJ. He knew Becky was aware of sex, but he was pretty sure she had no idea what that meant, in the context of what they were both asking about. But there was no soft way to say it. He understood exactly why their mother had tried to keep that secret. "It meant that if your father lost the hand, Becky would have had to have sex with them." Frank Jr.'s surprise was obvious and contained no little bit of shock. "ALL THREE OF THEM?" he gasped. "Yes," said AJ, shortly. "And I'd have had no choice." Becky's voice was curiously flat. "I reckon not," said AJ. "Unless somebody stopped them." "You stopped them," she said. "That was different," he said. "I knew they were cheating, and called them on it." "And you think you should have stayed quiet," said the girl. "And let them rape me." "No!" protested AJ. "That's not what I meant. I just knew they were cheating him. He was stupid to get into that game in the first place, and even stupider to agree to bet you. Even so, I thought he ought to know they were cheating. I even told him not to take that bet!" "Wait," she said. "You mean they ASKED him to bet me?" "Um ... yes." AJ wanted her to feel better and said, "He didn't think it up himself or anything." "But now you think you shouldn't have butted in." Her face was quite serious. "If I hadn't, your father would still be alive," he pointed out. "And I'd have been raped by three men," she said steadily. "I don't know," moaned AJ. "When you put it that way..." "I'm glad he's dead!" Becky said, with sudden passion in her voice. "You shouldn't be glad when anybody dies," said AJ. "Not like that." "He bet ME!" she yelled. "He didn't ask me first. He didn't care about what would happen to me. He hurt my mamma for years and he would have done the same to me! Those men would have raped me. Am I wrong? Do you think they were funning him?" "No," said AJ miserably. He was sure the bet was for real, as far as those men were concerned. "Then the men who died were three rapists and a man who'd sell his own daughter for a few dollars," she said firmly. "I don't care that they're dead. I'm GLAD they're dead!" "Me too!" said Frank Jr. with just as much passion in his voice. ------- Chapter 10 He let them chew on their anger while he went to find Bella. She hadn't gone that far and he found her sitting on a log. She wasn't crying any longer, but her eyes were red. "Did you tell them?" she asked. "Yes." More tears leaked from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. "You were right," he said. "It's in the past now. They'll realize that, sooner or later." She sniffed and wiped her cheeks. "Their life has been so hard. I had hoped that at least that part could be kept from them. And it was ME that let it slip!" "Yes," said AJ. "But it wasn't you that accepted that bet." ------- They were walking back to the campsite when they saw Becky striding toward them. "I'd like to talk to my mother," she said. "Alone," she added. AJ shrugged and walked on. He'd gone maybe ten or fifteen feet before he heard crying and turned to see them hugging each other tightly. Both appeared to be bawling. When he got to the fire pit Frank Jr. was still sitting there, looking angry. He looked up at AJ. "I want you to teach me to shoot," he said. "That's not needed," said AJ. "Yes it is," said Frank hotly. "Are you going to stay with us from now on? If you don't, who's going to protect my sister?" "Nobody's going to hurt your sister," said AJ. "My pappa used to beat us both," said the boy. "He beat my mamma too, and made her scream awful in the bedroom. Sometimes me and Becky just hugged and cried when that was happening, because there wasn't nothing I could do about it. I don't ever want to feel like there's nothing I can do about it again." "I'm on the run because of gunplay," said AJ. "Men may be chasing me right now, bent on hanging me from one of these trees. I'll not put you in the same situation." "You saved my sister from rape," snarled Frank. "If men come for you I'll take up a rifle. I DO know how to shoot a rifle!" "If men come for me you'll do nothing," snapped AJ. "What I did was something I chose to do. There's been enough killing already. You're the man of the family now. Whenever we get to where we're going they're going to depend on you, and you won't help them at all if you get shot trying to protect me." "I still want you to teach me to shoot," insisted the boy. "Well you can want until the cows come home, but I'm not going to do it. All this pistol has brought me is trouble." "Well," said Frank, suddenly calm. "That trouble saved my sister from being raped. I know my pappa wouldn't have saved her. I'm going to learn how to shoot a pistol. I don't know when, or where, but I'm going to. If you won't teach me, I'll find somebody else who will!" They were interrupted by the women coming back. Frank Jr. stayed in his funk, while AJ ignored him. Becky was staring at him with an odd look on her face. Bella seemed to be thinking about something, most likely whatever they had talked about. He wasn't going to pry. Instead he announced that he was going to scout out the land ahead, and would be back for supper. He resaddled his horse, mounted up, and trotted off. ------- He only had a few hours left before the sun would set, but to be honest he was just riding to be riding, so it didn't matter. He did look over the land. They had strayed off the Chisholm Trail as they got out of the buffalo tracks, so the earth was again primarily growing prairie grass. There seemed to be more water in this part of the land, because he saw several fairly large groups of trees. He didn't explore them, because they were much too close to be potential camping sites. He saw one steer and decided to take it back to add to the 'herd, ' as Frank Jr. called it. He smiled. The boy had spunk. There was no doubt about that. He probably would try to find a pistol and learn how to shoot. AJ hoped he didn't fall in with the wrong kind of man when that happened. AJ was amazed to find himself thinking that the boy would be better off as a farmer. That caused him to reflect on the changes in his own life. He was a cowboy. Cows were what he knew. And yet, he felt the tug for a less wandering life himself. It bothered him. He couldn't see himself in a town somewhere, holding down a steady job. And he didn't want to see himself as a farmer either. Not yet, anyway. ------- When he got back, supper was ready. He stripped his gear off the horse and let it loose. As he approached the fire there seemed to be an air of anticipation about the three already seated there. Nothing was said until the meal had been eaten. Becky and Frank Jr. yawned and stretched together. To AJ's eyes it seemed to be an act of some sort. "Guess it's time for bed," said Becky. "Don't you agree, Mamma?" AJ looked at Bella, who was looking down. When she looked up, her face was flaming red. Her eyes sparkled, as if she was about to cry, but she had a timid smile around her lips. "The arrangements are different tonight," said Becky, standing up. "We decided that Frank and I will sleep under the wagon from now on." AJ's eyebrows rose almost to the mop of hair on his head. Bella looked back down at her hands, which were on her lap. Frank Jr. stood, and he and Becky walked toward the wagon. "We decided?" AJ said softly. "They decided," she whispered. "Because of what you did." "What did I do?" he asked. "Two things, actually," she sighed. "You made me happy, for one thing. I explained that to Becky the other day, and she's been thinking about it." She looked up then, and met his eyes. "But mostly because you kept Becky from being raped." ------- Bella was moaning in frustration by the time AJ finally mounted her. He'd taken her to the creek, where they bathed each other, before walking, naked, to the wagon. The fire had died down, but the moon was almost full. They paid no attention to the lumps that lay together under the wagon. Their bath had involved a lot of foreplay, and she was ready as soon as they settled onto the bed. But AJ wasn't finished stoking her fires, so to speak. He started again on her breasts, sucking at nipples still stiff from his earlier attention. He did that for a while and then stopped, putting his lips right by her ear. "We'd better stop, huh," he whispered. "What?! Why?" she moaned. "You get loud," he said, grinning. "They'll hear you." "I don't care!" she moaned. "They said I could do this!" He alternated between long, sucking kisses and nursing at her nipples while he stroked her all over with his hands. She arched her hips when he slid a finger into her, massaging her pussy until she was writhing. Then he licked at the skin between her breasts, and down, over her heaving stomach, reaching with his hands to spread her legs. "What are you..." Her question was never finished as a gasp cut off her capacity to speak when his lips slid onto her pussy lips and he sucked them into his mouth. She did manage a whine, and then a series of gasping grunts as he found her clit and sucked that too. Her fingers found his hair and she pulled hard, welding his mouth to her sex as she found yet another new thing she'd never thought of before. She knew about the other thing, where the woman put her mouth on the man. Frank had beaten her into doing that, but it had never occurred to her that the man could do it to the woman too. As she had an orgasm, stuffing part of her dress into her mouth to muffle her groans, she thought that if it felt anywhere near this good for the man, she now understood why Frank had wanted her to do it. Finally, when she thought she might lose her mind if he didn't hurry up, he crawled up, kissing his way back to her breasts. She reached for him avidly, this time, thrilled when she captured his hard prick, and pulled him almost painfully to her opening. She marveled that, while he entered her quickly, this time, with force enough to make her grunt, it still wasn't anything like when Frank had done the same kind of thing. Then she stopped thinking about Frank altogether as her lover began to make her squeal. Both of them were making enough noise to mask the soft gasps that came from the back of the wagon, where two curious teenagers had crept to satisfy their curiosity about this mysterious ritual that adults engaged in. The two voyeurs watched everything, their eyes glued to the couple that, in the light of only the full moon, could be viewed as strangers ... almost. The soft feminine cries that were clearly a product of joy came in the voice of their mother, though, and the equally soft grunts AJ made as he stiffened and fertilized their mother, were clearly the voice of the man they knew only as AJ. Watching once was enough. The other three times those whines and grunts woke them during the night, the two teens, sleeping in each other arms, only wiggled closer together, before falling asleep again. ------- In the morning as they got ready to roll, Frank Jr. approached AJ. "If you won't teach me to shoot, can I at least keep trying to find more cows?" he asked. AJ looked at him. He was trying to become a man, and AJ could respect that. He decided the ride he'd gotten the day before would hold him for a while, so he handed the reins to the boy, and adjusted the stirrups. Frank grinned and climbed into the saddle. The horse jinked, but he'd ridden him enough by then that he compensated fairly well, holding onto the saddle horn with only one hand. When the horse settled, he turned it, tapped the ribs with the heels of his boots, and off they went. Bella just lifted her eyebrows when he appeared, beside the wagon seat. She was ready to drive. Becky had asked to ride in the back of the wagon. "He's playing cowboy again today," said AJ. Bella patted the seat beside her, but he shook his head. "If I'm up there I won't pay any attention to where we're going," he said, grinning. "And neither will you." She didn't blush, but she smiled. Then she flicked the reins, and they started off. It was very routine for an hour. They'd chosen the steer that had followed Frank Jr. to the wagon as the lead steer, and tied it to the back of the wagon. It was the biggest of them all, a truly fierce looking longhorn, though it was actually quite docile, once he had a rope on it. Thankfully, the others decided to follow it. AJ looked around, every once in a while, just to make sure the others were still following. They lined up, head to tail and seemed quite content with following along. He heard a steer bawl, and a female voice saying "GO AWAY!" What really caught his attention was that the voice, while loud, had that sound to it of a person trying NOT to be loud. "GO ON! GO AWAY!" he heard Becky say again. He dropped back and saw that the big lead steer had stuck his nose into the back of the wagon until his long horns blocked him from going farther. He assumed Becky was afraid of the beast, and dropped back even more. He slapped the steer on one flank and it backed up, turning a baleful eye on him. He grabbed the near horn and ducked under it, intending to tell Becky that she had nothing to fear. What met his eye when he peered into the back of the wagon, though, was the girl, lying back, her skirts pulled up to her waist, with her legs spread wide. Her hand was rubbing furiously between her legs. Her head was thrown back, and her mouth was open. She was clearly very close to what she was aiming at. He intended to just leave her be, and started to move to the side when he was butted from behind by the lead steer, who bawled again. Becky's eyes flew open and met AJ's. She squeaked and frantically tried to shove her skirts back down. "I didn't mean to bother you," said AJ, grinning. "I just thought the steer had scared you." "No!" she gasped. "Good," he said. "He won't hurt you. He's probably just curious. You can go on now." She blinked, and he ducked to the side, making sure the steer's horns weren't in the way. She gasped something, but he ignored her. He got even with the wagon seat and Bella looked over at him.' "What's wrong?" she asked. "Nothing," he said. ------- They'd gone about another mile when AJ saw Frank Jr. riding hard toward them. He looked like he was in a bigger hurry than he should be and AJ's hand went instinctively to his pistol, to loosen it in the holster. He wondered where their rifle was, and was disgusted with himself for not knowing. The look on the boy's face wasn't one of concern, though, when he got close and pulled up. "I FOUND A HOUSE!" he yelled. He sat the horse, waiting for the wagon to reach him. Bella slowed the team until the wagon creaked to a stop. "What are you saying?" she asked him. "I was looking for cows and I saw this bunch of trees," he panted. I thought they might hide in there, and went in, there was a pond in the middle, and a house, sort of." "Sort of?" asked AJ. "Yeah. It's not made of wood. It's like somebody got mud to stand up or something, and it has grass on the roof." "A sod house," said AJ. "I guess," said Frank. "And there's a body inside! Or what's left of one." AJ climbed up on the front wagon wheel and stepped to stand on the seat beside Bella. He looked around, looking for any pursuit Frank might not have noticed in his excitement to get back to the wagon. He saw nothing though. "Let's go see this body," said AJ, sitting down beside Bella. "Where's your rifle, by the way?" ------- The sod house looked to be not more than two or three years old, based on its condition, which was quite good, and the grass on the roof, which blended in with the prairie grass all around it. It had been built against the side of an up-thrust of rock, something rare in this part of the world, but which made an excellent back wall. A chimney, made of stones that must have come from nearby, had been laid against the rock wall. Where it protruded from the roof, it looked like a tree stump until you got close to it. A plank door sagged to one side, hanging on what was left of one leather hinge. The body, actually a skeleton, was still dressed in homespun pants and a stained and faded checkered shirt. The skull had a neatly punched hole right in the middle of the forehead. A hat lay nearby, with a matching hole where it would have covered the forehead. One hand was missing, but a few lightly gnawed finger bones were scattered about on the dirt floor. Further inside, clothing was scattered about, as if the items had been thrown there. A homemade chair lay on its side beside a table made of rough planks, upon which sat an oil lantern. As AJ looked around the ten by ten single room, he saw a few tools and some empty tin cans among the clutter on the floor. Everything was covered with thick dust. "What happened here?" asked Bella, her voice hushed. "Looks like he got bushwhacked," said AJ. He must have come to the door, maybe expecting somebody he knew, and got a bullet as soon as he opened it." "Why would somebody do that?" she asked. "Seems like they were looking for something, the way things have been tossed around." "How sad," said Bella. "He worked so hard to build this place, only to be shot." "He's been dead a long time, to have only bones left," said AJ. "This could be from the war. There was some fighting around these parts. Some of the men I rode with were in the war, and told stories about it. Bella shuddered. "We should bury him. It's not right that he was left like this." "I'll get the shovel," said AJ. ------- Three sides of the little dip in the land were covered with trees. The pond was more of a long oval, than round, and perhaps two acres in size. It was fed by a trickle of stream at one end, and emptied the same way at the other. Some relatively small but violent geological event had happened here in ages past, resulting in the dip that made this place different than anything else for miles around. The soil had broken flint rock in it, for one thing. That explained the chimney in the house. He had to try three places before he found one that he could dig deep enough into for a grave. The soil he turned over was black, and rich, once he got through the foot of sod that capped it. After that it didn't take long to dig a hole three feet deep and three feet around. Bella couldn't bring herself to help carry the body to the grave, but Frank Jr., grimacing a bit, was willing. AJ mostly rolled the bones together, using the clothing to help hold them and, together, they were able to transfer the resulting bony lump to the hole. It made a sad looking pile in the bottom of the grave. AJ started filling in the hole and Frank Jr. dashed off toward the house. He returned with the unknown farmer's hat. "I'm not digging him back up so you can put the hat in there," said AJ. "I'm not going to bury it," said Frank. "I'm going to say some words ... if that's all right." "That's a proper thing to do," said Bella. "I'm proud of you." When the grave was filled in, they all stood in a circle around it. Frank Jr. put the hat on his head with the hole right over his forehead. "Mister," he started, staring at the hump of bare soil, "we don't know what your name was, or what happened to you, really, but I just wanted you to know that I'm going to wear your hat, so's you'll never be forgot. I'll try to take good care of it for you. Amen." Bella sighed, while AJ smiled and Becky stared at her brother with something like horror on her face. That dissipated as the girl told everyone to follow her. She had done some exploring while the grave was dug, wanting nothing to do with the body, and now pointed out a plow, concealed in the tall grass about fifty feet from the house. Next to it, still covered by an oil cloth weighed down with stones, were other tools and implements of farming, including a scythe and a two man crosscut saw. Most of the tools were rusty, but still sound. "Too bad we don't have room in the wagon for all this," said AJ. "You'll be needing things like this to farm with." Bella looked around. "He was farming here," she said. "He was!" said Becky excitedly. She then took them to a small patch of ground that had struggling corn plants trying to grow among the weeds. There were also pumpkin vines and what Bella delightedly identified as beet and turnip plants. It was obvious that all the plants were all volunteers, sprouted in the un-harvested garden. "Looks like he was trying to make a go of it," AJ agreed. Bella looked thoughtful. AJ tumbled to what she was contemplating. "You're thinking about lighting here?" He sounded surprised. "Why not?" she asked. "I had no destination in mind. If these things are doing this well without being weeded and tended, imagine what they could do with some care. And wherever we decide to stop, we'll need shelter." She looked at the house. "Is that place safe?" They went back to the house. The roof beams, made of six inch tree limbs, sagged a bit, but were still strong. The three sod walls were at least two feet thick. There was a little erosion here and there, but for the most part the walls looked like they'd last a hundred years. The boards on the door were warped, but a new door would obviously be a lot easier to build than a whole house. "I wonder why critters didn't drag most of him off?" asked AJ, and he went to the pond. He scooped up a handful of water and carefully tasted it. Then he tasted again. "Water's sweet," he said. "Nothing wrong with it that I can tell." The more they looked around, the more excited Bella got. There was everything they would need. There was already shelter, which could be improved, and water. If they stayed they'd have a plow, and the oxen to pull it. The house, down in the dip as it was, was even sheltered from the constant wind, which whipped the prairie grass higher up, around the rim of the depression. It was likely that the cattle they'd gathered might even stay around without too much herding, because of the pond. There was fodder available, and they could cut hay to last the winter. "How far do you suppose it is to that town the soldiers were talking about?" asked Bella. "If you want to camp here, I'll take the horse and go find out," said AJ. ------- Chapter 11 They didn't bring the wagon down into the depression, for fear that it was too heavy, fully loaded as it was, for the team to pull it back up if they decided to go on. AJ thought that they could do it, pointing out that wagons like this had crossed the great divide, but Bella didn't want to take the chance. Becky was loathe to go in the house, until Bella swept it out and dragged her inside to prove there was nothing left of the previous inhabitant. The girl stood, uncertainly at first, but finally said "This isn't so bad, I guess." Then, as if she didn't want to give in too easily, she said "It's awfully dark, though, with no windows." "You can cut a window in the wall," said AJ, drawing a mild glare from the girl. "Go!" said Bella suddenly. "I want to know how far it is to a town. We'll have to have things from a town to make it, even in a place like this." AJ grinned, got some buffalo jerky to stuff in his saddle bags, tipped his hat, and then mounted his horse and rode off. AJ discovered where the sod had come from to build the house when he rode over the hill to the southeast. While it had grown over with weeds, there was clearly a patch of ground about two acres in size where the sod had been removed. The land had then been tilled and planted. Wheat, oats and corn were growing there still, though the plants were stunted and choked out with wild growth. ------- Colonel Frederick Cotton shook Stone's hand vigorously. "As much time as you're spending at the fort I suppose you're going to ask me to provide you with office space," he joked. "We didn't find your young hero, if that's what you're here for." Stone produced a grim smile. "No, Sir, this time it's a rustling problem. He filled the Colonel in with what information he had. "That may fit with some problems we've had recently," said Cotton. "Twice in the last year herds of Government beef have arrived short. The drovers always claimed that someone must have stolen cows during the night." "Maybe this time the night guard caught them," said Stone. "Well, I don't have to tell you that with things heating up with the Indians my troops need the food the Government buys for them. I've got my hands full with hostiles. I don't have time to fool around with investigations." "I'm on my way back to Abilene," said Stone, "to see what I can find out there, but your men are all over this area and they may have seen something that will help. I thought I'd talk with some of them while I was here." "Good idea," said the colonel, "thought I'm not sure how much help they'll be. They stay clear of the herds being driven to the rail heads. The men driving those herds are wiley and well armed. They rarely need our help." Cotton yelled for his adjutant and asked what troops had recently been deployed south of Abilene. The man brought him a piece of paper, which he reviewed. "Oh yes," he said. "Lieutenant Dobbs took new recruits out, looking for that cowboy you were here about last time. They nearly got run over in one of those infernal buffalo hunting escapades. If we didn't have to deny the savages their natural food source I'd run every buffalo hunter on the plains off. Damned nuisance, leaving carcasses littering the prairie to rot!" "Where might I find Lieutenant Dobbs?" asked Stone patiently. "They just got back," said Cotton. He turned to the adjutant. "Show the Marshal to Dobbs," he said shortly. "Thank you, Sir," said Stone. ------- Finding Dobbs more difficult than it should have been. That was due to the surge of new soldiers that were swelling the ranks of the 19th Kansas Cavalry. Most of the newly arrived men were still living in tents, as barracks hadn't been finished yet. The camp was a beehive of activity as civilian contractors worked on that and other tasks, while the soldiers milled around performing drills. The adjutant saw Sergeant Dickerson first, and handed Stone off to him. Stone told the man he'd been referred to Dobbs because he just got back from a patrol south of Abilene. "Yes, we just got back from a sweep to the south," said the old soldier. "We were sent out to look for some damn fool gunslinger, of all things." "I'm afraid that's my fault," said Stone. "I'm the one who got you dispatched out to look for the cowboy and the woman. "What woman?" asked Dickerson. "We wasn't looking for no woman." It became clear in a few moments that the Colonel had forgotten all about the dead farmer's wife, and her wagon, when he gave the lieutenant a mission that raw troops could go on. All that had been mentioned was that a cowboy named "AJ" had rid the world of some bad men and that the government wished to thank him for it. Even then, their instructions were simply to tell this AJ person to get in contact with the U.S. Marshals some day. So, as men on the frontier often did, Stone took a few minutes to tell the sergeant the story of AJ's confrontation with the cheating gamblers, and where the woman fit in. As he talked the old soldier's face showed his interest. "I KNEW It!" he said. "I KNEW there was something odd about that family!" "What family?" asked Stone. "I think I seen that woman. While we was out there, we came upon this lone wagon. It had a woman and her kids in it, just rolling along like they was going to a Sunday picnic." His eyes went out of focus as he remembered. "She had two daughters and a son. Said her man was snake bit and died. I knew there was something odd about one of her girls. She was all covered up. Wore a big, floppy bonnet. Never showed her face, not once, and her hands looked like they'd worked a lifetime, instead of just a dozen or so years." His eyes cleared. "You know, that might have been that cowboy, dressed up as a girl!" "Why?" asked Stone, clearly skeptical. "He never knew who he shot," said the sergeant. "Otherwise he'd have stayed there to crow about it. That means he thought he was in big trouble. Man on the run will do some strange things to keep from the sights of the law." "You could be right, but that woman was there. She saw what happened. Why would she take in the man who got in a gunfight that killed her husband?" "I ain't never understood wimmen," said the sergeant. "Mebbe I'm wrong, but there was somethin' funny going on in that bunch. You know, when the Lieutenant suggested we have a dance one night she about bit his head off. Said that dancing is agin' her religion." "That's not so strange," said Stone. "The same bunch is all riled up about whiskey these days." "Don't need none of them around here," said Dickerson firmly. Stone got back to the issue he was there about. "Well anyway, this time I'm hunting rustlers. Herds have been showing up at trail's end short. Somebody's gathering a herd and taking them a few at a time from the drives." "It don't surprise me that herds are showing up short," said Dickerson. "We see strays out on the prairie all the time. You may be on a wild goose chase, Marshal. It wouldn't surprise me if those stolen cows are just lost cows instead. A good thunderstorm with some lightning can scatter a herd right nicely" He spat in the dust. "And based on the recruits we get who gave up the cowboy life, they wouldn't work all that hard to gather them up again." "This is different," said Stone. "A cowboy on night watch apparently caught them and got killed over it recently." "That's different," agreed the old soldier. "So what are we looking for?" "It looks like somebody's gathering a herd, taking a few from each drive. When they get enough, they'll do their own drive. Did you see any small herds out there, off the trail, maybe with mixed brands?" "Not two or three hundred head," said Dickerson. "That woman I was telling you about. Now she had a group of cows with mixed brands, but there was only a dozen or a few more. And I watched that boy of hers bring in two more while we was with them." He shrugged. "Leastwise she had them before the stampede." "Fifteen cows running away isn't a stampeded," grinned Stone. "Ain't no laughing matter," said the sergeant darkly. "Damned buffalo hunters got a herd moving and we was caught right in the midst of it. Lieutenant Dobbs seemed to think that thirty men could turn a herd of stampeding buffalo. The troop only got clear by almost killing the horses." "The colonel mentioned something about that," said Stone. "Funny thing about it is that that woman got caught right in the middle of that stampede and came out smelling like roses, 'cept for losing their cows. Anyway, they ain't the ones you're looking for. Might be Indians, stealing those cows. We did see some mashed down grass with cattle tracks in it heading west, down around a place they call Widow's Gulch. There was some pony tracks on top of it, but they were headed north. That's the way we went, and I don't mind telling you I'm glad we didn't meet any redskins with that bunch of raw recruits." Ten minutes later Jeremiah was on his horse and headed for Abilene. ------- Bella assigned Frank and Becky the task of using the scythe to cut prairie grass for bedding, and to gather wood for a fire that night. She took it upon herself to transfer some cooking utensils from the wagon to the house and then took the shovel to go harvest what could be saved from the garden. In the process she found potatoes, radishes, turnips, onions and some stunted, but edible carrots. Bella carried her treasure back to the house in a basket made of her skirts and told the children to stop gathering hay and get wood instead. Once she had a fire going, Bella happily started making a stew, including buffalo jerky that would soften and cook with the vegetables. Becky and her brother went back to cutting hay. By the time they had a two foot thick 'bed' constructed in one corner of the house, it was time to eat. Frank opined it was almost like old times as he cleaned his bowl with his fingers. Becky said she was quite sure it had never been this good. "What do you think is going to happen, Mamma?" she asked suddenly, looking at Bella. "What do you mean?" asked her mother. "Well ... you and AJ are kind of sweet on each other ... right?" Bella's cheeks tinged pink. "I'm not sure that's the right term for it," she said. "Do you think he'll stay with us?" Becky's voice seemed to have a hint of longing in it. Frank Jr. also seemed very interested in what his mother might have to say. "I have no idea," said Bella. "And that's none of your concern anyway." "Are you happy, Mamma?" asked Becky, not willing to end the discussion. "I'm happy," blurted Frank Jr. He looked surprised that he'd said it. "Are you?" asked Bella. It was hard, somehow, to contemplate happiness. It had seemed so far beyond reach for so long. And the last month had been so full of new and sometimes terrifying things that she hadn't really had time to take stock on her life, or that of her children. "I ain't afraid no more," said Frank, as if that were his definition of happiness. "Yes," agreed Becky. "And that was the best dinner I think I ever ate," added the young man. "I could get used to eating like that." "Yes!" said Becky again. "And AJ treats you proper," said Frank Jr., building up steam. Then he blinked. "Well, not proper maybe." "What are you talking about?" asked Bella, who thought that AJ's manners were to be commended, especially considering what she'd expected from a cowboy. "Well..." Frank blushed. "I mean you two ain't married and all." Bella's first instinct was to feel shame, but it was too hard to do that. All she could think about was the relative improvement in her life in the past month, despite the travails they had faced. The discovery that sex could be filled with ecstasy, instead of only pain, made it almost impossible to feel guilty that she had let it happen. "I don't care about that," she said, before she could think that comment through. Her children stared at her. While their father had been an amoral brute, she had always set standards for her children's behavior, and demanded that they abide by certain moral values. To hear her flaunt convention so clearly was a shock to them, and she could see it. "It's hard to explain," she said weakly. "He's such a nice man ... and he makes me feel so..." She tapered off miserably, afraid that her children had lost all respect for her. "Good?" Becky finished for her, and didn't seem disgusted at all." "Well ... yes," admitted Bella. "It's pretty obvious," said Becky, somewhat tactlessly. "Why?" asked Bella, actually curious. She wished she hadn't asked when Becky answered. "You woke us up three times last night," she said. "Oh my," gasped Bella. "I hope it's like that for me some day," sighed Frank Jr. Bella almost covered her face with her hands, so embarrassed was she, but then her daughter surprised her again. "I'm glad," said the young woman. "I'm glad you get to be happy." "Really?" squeaked their mother. "I hope it's like that for me someday too," answered her daughter. ------- After lunch Frank browbeat Becky into helping him herd the cows into the depression. That involved taking branches in both hands and waving them to make the cows bunch up by the lead steer, which was still tied to the back of the wagon. Frank then untied the lead steer and pulled on the rope, leading it into the dip, toward the pond. To their delight all the rest followed. They went to report their success to their mother, only to find that she had decided to test out the bed they'd made and was taking a nap. With nothing else to do, they went exploring. The "forest" as they dubbed it, turned out to be a crescent of trees that was about a hundred feet wide. Some of the trees were three or four feet around, huge by comparison to what they'd seen before. "I think these are what AJ was calling Cottonwoods," said AJ, running his hand along rough bark with deep, irregular crevices in the surface. "It seems so quiet in here," said Becky. "I don't feel the wind," said Frank Jr., sticking a finger in his mouth and holding it up. "That's it!" she said. "I'm so used to the constant wind that I miss it, in here. "There's plenty of wood lying around," said Frank. "It's going to be a lot of work to get it back to the house, though. "That's man's work," said Becky firmly. "So is herding cattle." "You did fine, for a woman," said her brother. Somehow, having her brother refer to her as a "woman" made Becky feel good. "Thank you," she said. They wandered through the trees, discovering nothing much of interest, until they got to one end of the crescent, where they found a tree that was different than the rest. Most of the trees they had seen had basically straight trunks, with few branches low to the ground. This one, though, had lots of horizontal branches, and was very climbable. "It's a sycamore," said Frank Jr., as if he'd said something important. "I bet you can see for miles from the top." To prove his point he scampered up, climbing easily until he was on a thin branch that was waving in the wind. Becky watched him sway back and forth and called out to him to come down. "I was right!" he yelled back. "I can see forever. Come on up!" "Girls don't climb trees," yelled Becky. "Sure they do," he said. "I've never climbed a tree in my life," she argued. He climbed back down. "It's easy," he said. "You'll love it. I promise. I'll help you." She looked at him, and then at the tree doubtfully, and then back at him. "I'll help you," he said again, excited to be sharing a "boy thing" with his sister. He boosted her up with his hands on her waist, and she scrambled up. In the process, Frank found himself looking right up her skirt at her nakedness underneath the dress. He blinked, and then the sight disappeared as she sat on a branch. "This is scary," she said. "Move up another branch," he said. "I'll come up and help you." He watched interestedly as she stood, and he got another glimpse of her privates. He decided this was fun, for more than one reason. He pulled himself up easily and stood beside her. He gave her instructions on how to always get a good grip with her hands before stepping up with her feet, and then made sure he was below her as she did so. In the process he got to see her legs spread from below, as she lifted one foot to claim a new position. He felt his groin tighten and realized his willy was getting stiff again, like it had when they all bathed in that stream and he got to see his mother and sister naked. He wasn't shocked by the fact that he was getting stiff. That happened all the time, and it felt good when it did. She stopped, halfway up. "This is far enough," she said, her voice trembling. "No it's not," he argued. "Keep going. It will be worth it, I promise." "I don't like this, Frank," she moaned. "Come on," he pleaded, eager to get more looks at her woman parts. "I'm right behind you. You're doing really great." He was able to coax her into climbing some more, and he stared unabashedly at her sex as she went higher. At the three quarters point she balked again. He climbed to stand on the same branch as she was, and reached around her with both arms to hold onto the trunk. He pressed her body to the trunk with his. "See?" he said. "I've got you. You're perfectly safe." "I don't feel safe," she moaned. He went up a branch, and reached for her hand. "Just one more," he coaxed. "We're almost there." "I don't like this," she whined again. "Well, you can go back down if you want," he said, finally disgusted. "I'm going on up. The view is terrific." "I can't go down by myself!" she yelped. "Then come on up with me," he said. In the end, he coaxed her from one branch to the other, climbing above her now, and reaching to take her hand and place it on the right branch. Each time she stepped up he hugged her to the tree. Finally, they got to a branch that gave them a view of the prairie. Becky stared out in astonishment. All she'd paid attention to was the tree itself, and whatever branch she was reaching for. Now that she was stable, with his arms around her, and looked out through the break in the branches, she realized he was right. It WAS worth it. She felt like she could see the end of the world. She watched as she saw, from above, how the wind made the prairie grass seem to become waves, like she'd heard there were in the ocean. The whole land seemed alive, like it was breathing. It took her breath away. "Pretty good, huh?" said Frank, his face right beside hers. His hot breath in her ear made her shiver, and her consciousness was drawn to the feel of his body pressing her into the slim trunk of the tree. She felt something poking her bottom, and reached between them, thinking it was a branch. Her hand alit on the front of his pants, though, and she felt something hard under the cloth. The memory filled her mind of bathing in that stream bed that night, when the thing that made him a man, stiff and pale had pointed right at her. It was pointing at her again. She jerked her hand away. She felt hot, even though she could once again feel the wind on her face. "Look over there," said Frank, pointing past the trunk. "I see two cows!" Becky decided that Frank wasn't paying any attention to that stiff thing poking into her bottom. He even seemed to ignore the fact that she'd touched it. She decided to try to do the same thing, and looked where he was pointing. She could just see two dark spots in the mass of waving gold and green grass. "I see them!" she said. "I wonder how far away they are? They look so tiny!" "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know how to judge distance from this high up. I wish AJ was here. I could take the horse and go get them." Her attention returned to her bottom as she felt him press the hard lump against her. "What are you doing?" she asked. "What?" He obviously didn't understand what she was talking about. "You're pressing into me," she said. "I'm making sure you're safe up here," he answered. "I promised I would, remember?" "I mean down there," she said, pushing her hand between them to touch his hardness again." "Oh," he said, sounding surprised. "I guess it just feels good." "Feels good?" "Yeah," he said. He hadn't yet learned to be ashamed of what happened naturally in his body. "When it gets hard like that, it feels good to squeeze it, or press it against something." "Why is it hard?" she asked. "I don't know. It just gets that way sometimes," he said. A gust of wind hit the top of the tree and the trunk they were holding two swayed a foot and a half to one side. Then it went back the other way and Becky felt dizzy. "Let's go back down now," she moaned. "All right," he said. "But I was right about how great the view is, wasn't I." "Yes," she said, eager to get back down on solid ground. She didn't think it was odd at all that he offered to be below her, so he could place her feet on the right branches as she climbed down. ------- Chapter 12 Frank's hands gripped his sister's ankle as she slowly stepped down. While he guided her foot to a branch, he stared unabashedly between her legs. In this position he was closer than ever to her as he looked up her dress. He was fascinated by the tuft of hair above those pouting lips that pulled open as she stretched one foot down, while the other was still firmly on an upper branch. It looked dark between those pale lips, like there was a tiny cave inside her body. They were half way down by the time that Becky figured out he was looking up her dress. She discovered it when, instead of putting her foot on a branch, he moved it to one side and just held it there. "What are you doing?" she asked, looking down. His eyes were staring straight up her skirt. "Nothing," he said, and blushed. "You were looking up my dress!" she yelped. "Maybe a little," he said, somehow knowing he shouldn't have been doing it. "You're going to get a whipping if I tell Mamma," she said, suddenly in older sister mode. "Don't tell her!" he moaned. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. You're so pretty." "I'm pretty under my dress?!" she gasped. He blinked. "Well ... yes ... I guess so," he said. He was still holding her foot to one side, and his eyes still darted back and forth from her frowning face to her privates. She tried to close her legs, and he let go. "I think I can do it by myself now," she said, trying to decide why she didn't feel as angry about him peeking at her as she thought she should. "Oh ... all right," he said. "And stop looking up my dress," she barked. "Sure," he said, blushing. But the fact was that, as she climbed down the rest of the way, whenever she looked down, he was looking up. She felt confused, more than angry, because his avid interest in her made her feel good, somehow. She had no experience in life that could be associated with the vampish behavior some women employed to ensnare a male. She'd never had occasion to see such behavior in a woman, with the possible exception of her mother displaying her naked body to AJ. Yet, having seen AJ's avid interest in seeing her mother naked HAD made an impression on her subconscious. And her subconscious associated Frank Jr.'s avid interested in peeking up her skirts with what she'd seen in the back of the wagon. Once back on the ground, both youth were blushing and breathing deeply. Frank picked up his "new" hat, which he'd left on the ground by the trunk and put it back on his head. Both tried to ignore what had happened, though for different reasons. Frank Jr. ignored it hoping that she'd forget what he perceived as his gaff, and not tell their mother. Becky ignored it because it was too confusing to try to parse out how she felt about it. They continued their exploration, breaking out of the trees and into the bright sun and the relative cool of the shade. By the time they wandered back to the pond, both were hot and sweaty. Some of the steers had waded into the water and were standing shoulder deep. "I bet it's cool in there," observed Frank Jr., wiping taking off his hat to wipe his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. He put the hat back on. His sweat had dampened the hatband, and it now fit his head better. The previous owner's head had been a bit smaller, apparently. "I don't see why you wear that stupid hat," said Becky, staring at the bullet hole. "It's the only hat I got," said her brother, shrugging. "It's creepy," said Becky. "Like I said," said Frank Jr., ignoring her, "I bet it's cool in the water. Want to get in it?" "With the cows?" She was obviously disgusted by the idea. "They won't hurt you," he said. "I know that!" she snapped. "But it's probably all muddy now." "Maybe," said Frank Jr. "But I bet it's cool." He started taking off his shirt. "We can call it a bath." Becky's mind chewed on that. She remembered their last bath, and married that with what had just happened in the tree. "You just want to see me in my altogether," she accused. "I'll look the other way until you're in the water, if you want," he said. "All I'm thinking is that it's hot, and that the water will be cool." He dropped his shirt and undid his pants. "Besides, didn't Mamma say that it was all right for family to see each other in the altogether?" Becky blinked. Her mother HAD said that, in that creek bed. And she'd seen Frank Jr. all stiff like that too, and hadn't chastised him. She couldn't make her eyes look away as he dropped his pants, exposing what she had felt pushing into her backside only a few moments past. It wasn't hard now, and she looked at it curiously. It was dangly. He sat down to take off his boots and she couldn't see it any more. In a flurry of movement Frank Jr. got naked and then stood up, unashamed, and walked carefully into the water. He didn't tell her he could feel the mud oozing between his toes. The water wasn't as cool as he expected either, but it still felt good. He went in to his shoulders and waved his arms around, moving the water. "It's nice," he announced. Becky stood there, undecided. She felt sweat running down one cheek and wiped at it absently. She felt another rivulet of sweat run between her breasts. She looked down to see that sweat was staining the front of her dress, over her stomach. "You promise you won't look?" she asked suddenly. "Sure," he said, carelessly. He turned ninety degrees, still playing with waving his arms through the water. For Becky, getting naked involved fewer steps. She had to take off her boots, but then it was just a matter of lifting the dress over her head. As she did so, she felt the sun hit her tender skin directly. It felt uncommonly hot on her breasts. The dress cleared her head and she looked to see Frank Jr. staring right at her. "You promised!" she snapped. "Can't help it," he said. "You're so pretty," he offered lamely. "You're just saying that," said Becky. "Well it's true," said her brother. She realized she was just standing there, letting him look, and danced into the pond, feeling the sharp edges of rocks cause pain in the soles of her feet. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" she yelped, until her feet sank into oozing mud. "You didn't tell me there were rocks!" Frank Jr.'s mouth was hanging open. He'd watched as her breasts bounced and bobbed, like they had life of their own, as she hopped from one foot to the other rapidly. He felt his willy stiffen up again, and reached to squeeze it. She ducked down into the water and came towards him. "The water feels warm, but only on the top," she said, sounding amazed. "Where my legs are it's cool!" "Yeah," he said, finally closing his mouth. She lifted a hand, looking through six inches of water at it. "It's not so muddy either," she observed. "Yeah," he said, her bouncing breasts still filling his brain. "I guess this wasn't such a terrible idea," she finally admitted. "I told you so," he said, snapping out of his muddled mindset. He realized that besides squeezing his willy, his hand was moving forwards and backwards along the rigid shaft. He'd never done that before, and was surprised at how good that felt. He kept doing it, slowly. "This place isn't so bad," opined Becky. "Do you think Mamma is going to want to stay here?" "Maybe," said Frank. It was feeling REALLY good now to stroke his stiff willy. He increased the speed a bit, and it felt even better. "What's wrong with you?" asked his sister. "Me?" He was panting now. "Nothing." "You're all red in the face, and you sound like you've been running." Frank Jr.'s mind connected what his hand was doing with what she was talking about. It couldn't be anything else, but it felt so good that he didn't want to stop. "It's nothing," he gasped. Suddenly his willy hurt, but it was a sweet, stinging pain that somehow wasn't bad at all. He somehow realized that it was his hand, now moving rapidly up and down, that was bringing on this strange, luscious pain and that if he stopped what he was doing, it would go away. But he didn't WANT it to go away. His hand moved even faster. "FRANK!" gasped his sister, worried now. His face had twisted, and he looked like he was in some terrible agony. "WHAT'S WRONG?!" she shouted. Then, so suddenly that he wasn't prepared for it, the pain peaked and he couldn't stand it any more. Except that he couldn't stop making it either. He groaned and, just as suddenly, something soothing shot through his tender penis, easing the pain so wonderfully that he thought he might pass out. His hand kept moving as he instinctively tried to feel that again, and he was rewarded with four or five more luscious jets of whatever was happening. It felt so good that he moaned in happiness. "FRANK!" screamed Becky, not understanding what she was seeing. When she was just a little girl, at the general store in town with her mother one day, she'd seen a woman start acting crazy and fall to the floor, where she flopped around. The woman had moaned like Frank was moaning now. There had been a name for what happened to the woman, but she couldn't remember it now. It hadn't lasted but four or five minutes, and then the woman seemed all right again. Men had taken her away to the doctor, but by then she was walking on her own again. This looked like that, sort of, and sounded like it too, and it scared her half to death. But he recovered much more quickly, and he had a silly grin on his face. His eyes, which had seemed to glaze over, cleared. He was still panting, but other than that he seemed perfectly fine. Something bobbed to the surface of the water and they both looked down to see globs of something white float to the surface. There were lots of globs, of different shapes. One looked like a thin, long worm of some kind. "What's that?" she asked, backing away from him. "I don't know," he sighed. He reached to push one glob through the water and it stuck to his finger. He lifted it out of the water and it slid slowly down his finger. "Is it alive?" she asked, horrified. "No," he said, squeezing it between his thumb. "It's ... slippery." "Where did it come from?" she asked. He thought about that. When whatever had happened had happened, it felt like something was rushing through his willy, almost like pee, except it came in measured spurts, rather than one long stream. Maybe that's what this stuff was. "I think it came from my willy," he said. "Your what?" "My willy," he said. "You know ... the thing you grabbed in the tree." "The stiff thing?" she asked. "Between your legs?" He realized he was still holding it. "It ain't stiff no more," he said. He squeezed it. It felt tender inside. "It wasn't stiff when you took your clothes off," observed his sister. "It got stiff when you came in the water," he said. "I was squeezing it and it started feeling real ... I don't know how to say it ... and then something came out of it and it got all limp again." "That stuff came out of it?" Becky sounded horrified. "Maybe," he said. "Something did, and it felt great," he went on. "I never felt anything that good before." "It looked like you were dying," she gasped. "It felt that way too, kind of," he admitted. "Except that it was a good way of dying." "That's crazy!" she said. "Maybe, but it's the truth." "Are you sure you're not sick?" She looked worried. "I feel great," he said, smiling. "Kind of tired, but a good kind of tired." "So it's a good way of dying and makes you feel a good kind of tired," she said, clearly doubtful. "And that stuff came out of your..." "Willy," he finished for her. "Your ... willy," she said. "Because you were squeezing it." "Yup, that's about it," he said. It was obvious he wasn't worried. That's as far as things would have gone, just then, except for the fact that besides cows, there was something else in the water with them. That something else actually consisted of two types of creatures that called the pond home. One was an old snapping turtle, and the other were the fish that fed it. What fed the fish was a little algae, and whatever else got into the water ... such as the skin of swimmers. The truth is that the fish didn't actually eat the skin, but they weren't above nipping at it, to try a taste. That's what happened to Becky. A fish sampled the skin on her right calf. The first nibble got her attention. The second one registered as just what it was ... something nibbling on her leg. She squealed and, rather than going to the shore, which was twenty feet away, she went toward the nearest thing she could climb up on, which was her brother. Frank Jr., of course, had no idea what was going on as his sister surged towards him and grabbed him. The next thing he knew those fascinating bouncing breasts of hers were rubbing all over his face as she tried to climb him and get away from whatever was attacking her. "IT BIT ME!" she wailed. "What bit you?" asked Frank Jr. Except that it came out something like "Whmph bi oou." He was a little distracted by a nipple made very stiff by adrenaline in his sister's system. When she couldn't get any higher, her legs wrapped around his waist. Even then she started sliding back down because the water made both of their skin slippery. "I DON'T KNOW!" she yelled. "SOMETHING BIT ME!" His hands went to her waist as her breasts fell to the level of his chest and rubbed his skin there. She was turning her head this way and that, trying to see what was in the water, but all that did was wiggle her slippery body against his. She sank lower, and something else happened that vied for her attention too. That was when her pussy lips slid low enough that the base of his penis split them and then promptly scraped against the bump that she rubbed only in secret ... the same bump her mother had spoken of earlier. "Uhhhhh," she gasped as zings of pleasure announced themselves. "What's wrong?" asked Frank. "Did it bite you again?" "No!" she said. It was gone now. She had slid past the obstruction. She put her feet down, gingerly, and stood up. Her mons slid past his penis again, but there were no zings of pleasure this time. He was still holding her close, though, and her breasts were pressed tightly against him. The fish swam by her leg, grazing it with a fin. She jumped again, and slid down again, her attention split between the unknown thing she was afraid of in the water, and the again-delightful feel of her clitty being scraped. This time she squeezed her legs tightly, and stopped her slide right in the middle, where it felt so good. "What are you doing?" asked Frank Jr. He thought this new game she was playing was delightful too, but she was acting so strangely that he knew something was wrong. "There's something that bit me," she said, "and then it brushed against me." She looked around again, which rubbed her pussy on the base of his penis and distracted her. "Hold me up," she ordered. The only way he could do that was by sliding his hands to her backside and lifting her. The water made it easy. It lifted her a little too much and the pleasure went away. Her mind was running a mile a minute, and making connections where there had been none before. She knew that a man's thing had something to do with what she'd see in the wagon, but it had been too dark to see exactly what it was doing. Now Frank's thing was rubbing against her. It wasn't much of a leap to connect the rise and fall of AJ's backside with what Frank's thing ... what had he called it? ... his willy! ... yes ... his willy was doing ... which was rubbing her where only her fingers had ever rubbed before. She also remembered her mother saying that a man could rub there, and that if it was done right, it was wonderful. "Don't stop," she gasped. "Stop what?" asked Frank, confused now. "Holding me," she panted. "All right," he said. ------- Chapter 13 The fact was that what was rubbing his penis made it feel good too, and he felt the tingle that meant it was going to get hard again. He wasn't sure Becky would appreciate that, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He decided to warn her. "Uh ... Becky ... my willy is going to get hard again." "It is?" She was still worried about whatever had bit her, and still looking around. "Why?" "Cause you're rubbing against it," he said. "Something bit me," she insisted. "A fish!" he said suddenly. "It must have been a fish!" She wiggled against him. She was getting rubbed, but it wasn't as good as if she did it herself. It was kind of hit and miss. She decided that Frank wasn't any good at rubbing, and then realized that he actually probably didn't even KNOW he was rubbing. That left her with a quandary. Should she tell him, so he could do it better? Then the full impact of what she was doing hit her. If this was what AJ and her mother had done ... she was having sex! She flew away from Frank in a flurry of splashing water that was even more violent than when she had surged toward him. Her eyes were wide as she kept backing up, using her hands instinctively to swim backwards. "What in tarnation is wrong with you?" asked Frank. His willy had just gotten hard, and her rubbing had felt mighty good, even though it bent him downwards a little painfully. "It's only a little fish!" "We were having SEX!" she gasped. "We were?" He looked confused. He'd seen dogs having sex, but it wasn't anything like they'd just done. "How do you figure?" "Your willy was rubbing me!" she wailed. "Actually, it was you that was rubbing my willy," he corrected. "But it felt good. I'm kind of sorry you stopped." "That's what AJ was doing to Mamma!" she squealed. "And they were having sex!" "They were?" His voice rose a full octave. What he'd seen looked exciting, but it wasn't like the dogs either. "OF COURSE THEY WERE!" she shouted. "What did you think they were doing?!" "I don't know," he moaned. "You were peeking, so I peeked too. They was naked, yes, but it didn't look like no dogs to me." "Dogs?" Now it was Becky who was confused. "Sure. I seen dogs having sex one time. The boy dog got behind the girl dog and he humped her good." "People don't do it like dogs!" she gasped, looking shocked. "How do you know?" he asked. "They just don't!" she yipped. "Dogs are dogs and people are people." "So people do it face to face," he said. He looked past his sister, to where their mother was walking toward them. It never occurred to him to warn Becky she was coming. "Yes!" she moaned. "Just like you and me were doing!" "I'm sorry," he said quickly. He wanted to be done before their mother got there, but it was obvious Becky was upset by all this. "I didn't know." He took breath to warn her then, but she cut him off as Bella reached the shore, ten or so feet away. "What if Mamma finds out?" she whined. "What if mamma finds out what?" came her mother's voice from behind her. She whirled and stood up instinctively. She'd moved close enough to the shore that when she did, the water was only waist high. "MAMMA!" she wailed. "What if mamma finds out what?" insisted Bella. Then, as she realized her daughter was naked, the obvious popped into her head. "That you and your brother were skinny dipping? Well, she already knows that, now doesn't she." "Skinny dipping?" Becky was clearly confused. She'd never heard of having sex called that. "Swimming naked," said Bella patiently. She'd done it as a child, in a pond very much like this one on a neighbor's farm. There had been no pond back in town, where they'd come from, so her children had never heard of the practice. "OH!" gasped Becky, as she realized that her mother was only talking about bathing. Her mind jumped at the chance to bypass the real problem. "I just thought that this being a pond and all, instead of a creek, might make things different," she said weakly. "Why on earth would this kind of water be different than running water?" she asked. "Except that there might be turtles in this water," she added as an afterthought. "Turtles?" Becky looked around. "Yes, a pond like this often has snapping turtles in it," said Bella. "They feed on the fish." "Do they bite?" asked Becky, lifting her hands out of the water. "If they do, you'll know it," said Bella. "They clamp down on a toe and don't let go. It hurts like the dickens!" "WAHHHHHHHHH," cried Becky and her legs churned as she ran toward her mother. She stumbled, right at the shore and fell face first in the lush grass beside her mother's feet. She rolled onto her back and sat up, out of breath and trying to look at her leg, which she expected to be bleeding. Frank Jr. looked around uneasily. Bella laughed long and hard. When she finally stopped she put her hands on her hips. "Turtles don't live in every pond. We don't even know if there's anything in this water to feed one." "Well SOMETHING bit me!" yelled Becky. "Right ... there!" She pointed at her calf, where there was a tiny patch of skin that was pinker than the rest. "Well then, said Bella chuckling again. "We'll just have to rig up some fishing poles so you can find out what it was. Maybe we'll have a fine fish dinner!" She grinned. "You know, turtles don't bite all that often. Not people anyway. But if there's fish in this pond, there might be a turtle too. If you catch him ... now there's REAL good eating!" Frank Jr. decided he'd been in the water long enough, apparently, because his feet churned too and he tried to run to the shore. Becky's pussy sliding on his penis had stiffened it, and adrenaline concerning possible turtles that latched on and wouldn't let go kept it rigid. It flopped as his high-lifting knees broke the surface and he ran up onto the grass by Becky. "Well, well," said Bella dryly. "It seems as if you're mostly man most of the time, now doesn't it." She was remembering that night in the creek too, when he'd been sporting a stiffy. She'd decided to ignore it then, particularly since she was naked too. "If a turtle decides THAT is a fish you'll be a very unhappy mostly man." Frank Jr. grabbed his penis with both hands, protectively and Bella laughed again. She was well aware of how often a young man's manhood got like that. This boy's own father had seemed to be routinely stiff when they first got married. As he drank more and more, though, it got that way less and less. She was convinced that was why she only had two children, in fact. Frank had been drunk so often that his attempts to get her with child a third time had failed miserably. She remembered being glad, each time she bled, that she wouldn't have to bring another child under his yoke. The fact that she no longer had to worry about Frank made her feel suddenly ebullient, which might be why she didn't stop to think about why the boy might be in that condition again, and her daughter expressing concern about "Mamma finding out" about something. She felt so light hearted that she decided that, turtle or no turtle, she was going swimming herself. To that end she started disrobing. Her children watched, darting glances at each other, as if their secret might come out somehow as their mother got as naked as they were. She ignored them, piling her clothing neatly on the grass and then ran, breasts bobbing wildly, into the water. She let out a yell as she splashed face down in the water and began windmilling her arms. She'd learned to swim at a young age. Frank and Becky, of course, were absolutely convinced that a giant turtle had latched onto their mother and was dragging her across the pond as she tried, in vain, to get loose. Frank yelled and ran right back in the water, which slowed his rushing movements. Suddenly he felt like he was stuck in molasses as he strained toward his mother. Then, suddenly, the object of his angst turned and began thrashing back toward him. He tried to imagine what a turtle might look like, and where to grab one. He had no idea, but when his mother came even with him he simply grabbed her around the waist and then slid his arms and hands downward, trying to feel for the beast so he could grab it and fight with it to free his mother. His hands found only woman flesh as she stopped and stood. The water came to just below her breasts, and they looked like they were floating as he spluttered from having gone under. "What on earth are you doing?" she asked. "The turtle!" he gasped. "It had you. It was dragging you away! I was going to try to pull it off. Where is it?" Bella's laugher trilled. "There is no turtle. I was swimming, you silly boy!" "Swimming?" "Your education has been sadly neglected," sighed Bella. A surge of love flooded her chest. This poor boy, who couldn't even swim, had jumped in to save his mother. She pulled him to her and crushed him in a bear hug. She looked over at her daughter, who was still standing on the bank, her mouth hanging open. "You too, Becky. You both need to learn how to swim if you're going to go skinny dipping in this pond." Frank was mildly disappointed as she released him. Being hugged to her chest was completely different than with Becky. His mother's big breasts were heavy and soft, and squashed warmly against his chest. While Becky's were also soft and warm, they were much firmer than his mother's. The tips were harder too, he noted, looking at the big brown tips of his mother's breasts as she moved back from him. Her nipples were bigger than Becky's and dark brown instead of pink. Nor did they stick out stiffly like his sister's. Bella didn't notice his examination of her, intent as she was on teaching her children how to swim. She spent the next hour coaxing them into putting their heads under the water, while holding their breath, and then teaching them the movements that would move properly aligned bodies through the water. Frank Jr. caught on right away, and exulted in his newfound agility in the water as he practiced. Becky was a little slower, but was able to move through the water for ten or twenty feet before having to stand up, and start again. Through it all, the turtle, who actually existed, but was well fed and had no interest in the big splashing bodies, was forgotten. ------- "Thought I might see you again," said Dan Cross as Jeremiah walked into the Sheriff's office. "You thought right," said Stone. "Buried the body already," said Cross. "Had his head half stove in. Whoever did it got close to him and then hit him hard. Might have been Indians. I've seen a war club or two that might do that. But they'd rather have buffalo meat. They got no use for cows." "Have any more of that brand showed up since then?" asked Stone. "Just a few," said the sheriff. "Most of the herds lose a few and pick up a few on the way up." "I got a lead on someplace called Widow's Gulch," said Stone. "Ever heard of it?" "It's in the red hills, south of here and west maybe two or three days ride. Starts in Kansas and goes into the Oklahoma territory. Some people tried to settle there some years back, though I don't know why. The land is all broken up. Lots of gullies and gulches in there. Anyways, they didn't make it. The Cherokee took offense to them living there. That's how it got its name." "Anyplace down there to hide a herd?" "Plenty of places, though it's shy of both water and grass. Couldn't put a big herd there. Not for a long time anyway. And the Indians are still out there." He thought for a few seconds. "Iffen it was me, and I was trying to hide five or six hundred head, I'd go east, down by Wichita. They say the railroad is going to be there within a year. That's going to hurt us here, cause they're closer to Texas. But there's grass down there, and water too. You could drive cows east off the Chisholm and have all manner of places to keep them grouped up. Now that I think of it, there used to be some settlers over that way too, until the war drove them out. Confederates made a sweep south of here all the way to New Mexico, but then had to pull back. Could be several good hideouts down that way." "Maybe I'll mosey down that way after I have a look-see around this Widow's Gulch area," said Stone. Cross nodded. "Say," he said, his eyebrows rising. "Did you ever find that cowboy who's due the reward?" "Not so far," said Stone. "The Army looked for him for a while, but had other duties to attend to. We're not going to traipse all over the land looking for him." "But you'll traipse all over the land looking for cattle," jibed Cross. "Hell of a world, ain't it," drawled Stone. "Speaking of which, the Army DID maybe find the woman. They happened on a single wagon, with a woman and kids in it, headed south." "Probably her," said Cross. "I thought maybe she'd lose heart and come back this way, but not so far." "I doubt I'll run into her," said Stone. "She's long gone by now." Cross shrugged. "Like I said last time, nobody but the undertaker's looking for her." ------- AJ rode into Wichita after dark. He kept going because he could see lights in the distance, after the sun went down. He was surprised to find it twice the size of Abilene. He'd heard the name of the town before. It was close to the Chisholm trail, but was always bypassed in favor of trail's end, at Abilene. By the time drovers reached that far, all they could think of was being rid of the herd and having money in their pockets. As he rode in he checked his pockets, finding his pay from the cattle drive still securely there. He decided on getting that whiskey he'd been unable to enjoy in Abilene, and then, as he tied up at the hitching post of a saloon, he paused. The last time he'd done this hadn't turned out well. With thoughts of minding his own business firmly in his head, he pushed through the batwing doors of the place, and then moved quickly to the bar. A man polishing a glass looked up. "What'll it be, cowboy?" There was no tension in this place, at least not like there'd been in that last place. A piano sat in one corner of the room, but no one was playing it. There was a card game going on at one of five tables, but it was between four older men, still wearing their hats, and that seemed sedate too. At another table there were two better dressed and younger men, who looked to be cattlemen, discussing business over beer. "Whiskey," said AJ, looking back at the barkeep. "That'll be a two bits," said the bartender, staring at him. "Money first." "Sure," said AJ, embarrassed that he hadn't thought of that. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a half dollar. He laid it on the bar and said "Give me two." The bartender swept the money off the bar and peered at it. When he saw Lady Liberty seated, he reached for a shot glass and topped it up. AJ tossed it back, shuddering at the bite and set the glass down with a thump. The bartender filled it a shade less than full this time, and then lost interest in the cowboy. AJ contemplated the second shot. The first one had the bite of chewing tobacco in it. It was pretty rough stuff and he decided he'd find another place if he felt like a drink again. He liked rye, not this rotgut that they foisted off on men like himself. It was paid for, though, so he tossed that one back too, shuddering as he swallowed it in a gulp. It did warm his stomach, but that was about all he could say for it. His drinking done for a while, he looked for a hotel. There was only one, called the Broadview. A room cost two dollars, which he thought was highway robbery, but it beat sleeping on the ground, so he paid it. It had the advantage of having a dining room, which was still open. For a quarter he was presented with a bowl of buffalo stew, which had potatoes and carrots in it. He was given half a loaf of fresh baked bread and a glass of beer as well. Several diners took interest in him. He was more roughly dressed than any of them, and dusty from the trail. He ignored them and relished the meal. Back out on the street, he got on his horse and went looking for the livery stable. He had to wake up the boy who slept in the loft. A fifty cent piece resulted in the boy promising to curry his horse and give it a pan of oats. Walking back to the hotel he spied another saloon, called "The Lucky Strike." He could hear the tinny music of a piano that was almost in tune coming from the open doors. The saloon keeper didn't skimp on oil for his lamps either, as the bright light attested to. He ambled over to the porch and stepped up on it, looking through the door before going in. This saloon had girls, and he was astonished to see a glimmering crystal chandelier hanging from the center of the room. There were a number of men sitting at tables drinking. One card game was going on, but it was also unremarkable. One girl was standing by the piano trying to sing. Two others were dancing with patrons. He walked in and went to the bar, where a much friendlier bartender smiled at him. "You got any good rye whiskey?" asked AJ. "Only the best in town," said the barkeep, his smile widening. "It's fifty cents a shot, though. "If it's real rye then it's worth it," sighed AJ. "Oh it's real, all right," said the man. "My name is Sam. He caught the "AJ" before it slipped out of his mouth. Word might have had time to travel this far, if it was going to. "Hobbs," he said, instead, wondering if the bartender had noticed the lag in response time. Sam didn't blink an eye though, and poured a shot of amber liquid. AJ sipped it and then put a dollar on the bar that he'd had in his hand since entering the place. He tossed back the rye and sighed as the burn traveled down his throat, making a hard, hot knot right in the middle of his chest, before creating one just like it in his stomach. "Again," he said. Sam poured him another drink and took the dollar. He left to serve another customer, and AJ took the chance of sipping his second drink. It was too good to just swallow. He needn't have worried, though. He'd shown he knew how to drink whiskey, and nobody paid any attention to him except Sam, who returned when his glass was half empty. The bottle was in his hand. "That is good whiskey," said AJ. "Much obliged." He looked at Sam, who was waiting attentively. "I'm just off a cattle drive," said AJ. "Decided to see what Wichita looked like, instead of spending my money in Abilene." "We appreciate that," said Sam. "The railroad is only ninety miles from here. By this time next year we're going to be able to ship cattle from right here in Wichita." "That so?" "It is. I s'pect you'll be seeing Wichita again." "Looks like a nice town," said AJ. "I wonder if I could ask a question." "Shoot," said Sam. He fiddled with the bottle. AJ tipped his glass up, draining the rest of the liquid in it, and got out a half dollar coin. Sam poured while AJ asked. "Riding down here I happened on a dip in the land, with a pond in it. Had an old sod house there too. Found a body in the house. Any idea who he might have been?" "What direction?" asked Sam. "North and a bit east, maybe twenty miles." "A day's ride?" "Just about. Looked like maybe the feller was trying to farm out there. Appears he got bushwhacked. Shot once, right here." AJ put a the tip of his index finger right in the middle of his forehead. "There was some folks used to live up that way before the war, but from what I know the Confederates who came through here tore things up pretty bad. Since then I only heer'd of one man that settled out thataway," said Sam. "He never came in here, though. I think he did his drinking down the street. Believe I heard tell he was a retired miner, from out west, California way." "Oh," said AJ. "I just thought somebody might want to know." "You could talk to the sheriff," said Sam. "That's more his bailiwick." "Yeah," said AJ, not at all interested in meeting the law in this town. "I just might do that." He tossed off his last whiskey and then stood. "Thanks. It really is the best rye I've had in a while." "'Course it is," said Sam, grinning. ------- Chapter 14 For their first night at what most of them hoped would be a good place to try to make a go of farming, Bella wanted to sleep in the house. Frank Jr. built a fire in the fireplace and found that the draft was good. The flames lit the room everywhere except in the corners, and suddenly, bare as it was, the place seemed more like a room than a cave. Becky was worried about the house having no door. Bella reminded her that sleeping under the wagon meant no doors OR walls, but it just didn't seem right to Becky to be in a house that you couldn't close up. Perhaps it was for that reason that, when they lay down on the blankets Bella had spread over the thick bed of hay the teens had cut and stacked, Becky lay down touching her brother. They had always been close, partly as an alliance in defense of the abuse their father might heap on them. For reasons unknown, once he was gone, they had drawn even closer. That may have had something to do with her snuggling up to him too. The bed was soft, and the night quiet. Still, the three of them all had trouble getting to sleep. The flickering of the fire, which hadn't burned down yet made shadows and light dance on the walls and ceiling. Becky edged even closer to Frank Jr. and he worked his arm under her, the hay crushing to help him. She looked up at the beams that held up dirt and grass that they had actually walked on that day. "Are you really thinking of staying here, Mamma?" she asked. "There is much to be said in favor of doing so," said Bella. "I like it ... but it's strange too," said Becky. "It's hard to explain." "If we stay you'll get used to it," said Bella. "I haven't decided yet, though. Go to sleep. We have much to do tomorrow." Becky turned her head and looked at the side of her brother's face. He turned his head too and they stared at each other for a long time. Eventually they heard the soft snores that told them their mother was asleep. Her leg itched, where the fish had nibbled it, and she lifted it, pulling her skirts up so she could scratch there. While they were sleeping indoors, it still hadn't seemed like she should change into a nightgown, and was still wearing her normal clothing. Frank Jr. looked at the pale skin of her leg in the firelight. Just that, and perhaps the fact that she was lying right against him, was enough to make his willy get stiff again. He reached to squeeze it through his pants. Becky saw where his hand was. "Are you stiff again?" she whispered into his ear. He nodded. "Are you going to squeeze it again?" "I wish I could," he whispered back. "I'm telling you, Becky, that felt really good today." She lay there, watching his hand squeeze and let go. She put her lips right next to his ear. "Will you keep a secret?" she asked. He shivered, from her hot breath in his ear, but nodded again. "When that fish bit me, and you were holding me?" He nodded, when he realized it was a question. "When I was rubbing on your willy ... when we were having sex?" Again she stopped. Again his head bobbed, as he squeezed harder. "That felt really good too," she sighed. He turned his head and his lips brushed hers as their noses bumped. She moved back, until she realized he wanted to say something to her and put her ear to his lips. "I thought it scared you," he whispered. Again, as she turned her head to whisper their noses bumped. His eyes stared into hers. "It did," she said softly. "But it felt really good too." Neither seemed to want to break eye contact, so they stayed as they were, eyes only inches apart, breathing each other's expelled breath. "I think sex is supposed to feel good," he whispered. "When AJ and Mamma do it they sure seem to like it." Becky watched his lips move, and remembered how her mother had said "First there's kissing." She hadn't been interested in that. She knew about kissing, even if her mother said it was a different kind of kissing. Suddenly she wondered what Frank Jr.'s lips would feel like if she kissed him there. She moved her face forward, and felt the heat of his lips before she pressed hers to them. Frank knew what she was doing. He'd seen AJ do this a lot with his mother that night he'd peeked with Becky. He'd thought it looked very strange. As his sister's soft lips pressed to his, though, he felt a surge of emotion and almost instantly knew why they liked to do this. He pressed his lips against hers harder. That first kiss was an experiment of sorts, particularly for Becky. Like her brother, though, she understood the attraction to doing this almost immediately. It was awkward with them lying on their backs, though, with only their heads turned, and it was only natural for them to roll towards each other so that they could explore this delightful new game a little more comfortably. Frank had to let go of his willy to use that hand to pull on her waist, and she did likewise, using her free arm to reach around him and pull with her hand on his back. They rolled together and, once again, Frank Jr. felt the soft thrust of her warm breasts against his chest. They kissed again, holding it for a long time as each moved his or her lips, finding the right kind of tension to make it feel as good as possible. He wiggled closer to her, so that he could press his hard willy against her, in lieu of squeezing it with his hand. That Becky lifted a leg, to let the hardness press in the right spot, was purely instinct. She didn't think about it, initially. When she later did, she remembered her mother lifting a naked leg into the air, so it seemed normal. The kisses were most satisfactory - for both of them - but Becky couldn't quite get the kind of pressure between her legs that she wanted. Frank, too, wanted more than just pressing up against her, though that felt real nice. By the time they broke that long kiss both were breathing heavily. "I wish I could squeeze my willy," he whispered. Becky wished she could rub that spot between her legs too. Her conscious mind warned her that it would be folly to do that with their mother right next to them, though. She kissed Frank again. He wasn't expecting it, and his lips weren't closed when she did so. Rather than try to close them, as he thought was proper, he experimented with loosening them. He felt her lips rub against his teeth and he nipped her lower lip with his, making a little sucking motion. "Mmmmm," she murmured, and loosened her own lips. Becky felt like something was filling her up in her belly, only lower down. She realized her nipples were stiff, and needed to be squeezed, but they were pressed to Frank's chest tightly. It felt almost like she had to pee. That gave her an idea. She sat up, and then stood. The hay rustled and snapped, and Bella rolled over. "What's wrong?" came her sleepy voice. "I have to go outside," said Becky, her voice trembling a little. Bella understood. An outhouse was something they'd have to arrange some day soon. "Take your brother with you," she mumbled, and then rolled back over. Frank looked at her, the question on his face lit up by the last flickering flames in the fireplace. She gestured for him to come with her. Outside she led him a good distance from the house. The moon wasn't full, but still provided enough light that it cast their shadows. "If I tell you something do you swear never to speak of it?" she asked. "Yes," said her brother, instantly. "You know how you squeeze your willy?" He nodded, and his hand went to the front of his pants. "There's a place I can touch," she said. Her hand went to the front of her dress where her legs met. "I think it's kind of like squeezing your willy." She swallowed. "I've done it before ... I want to do it now." Frank wasn't stupid. "You want to do that while I squeeze my willy?" She nodded. Frank simply dropped his pants and started rubbing his stiff prick. Becky reached under her skirts and spread her feet shoulder's width apart. She moaned as her finger found the spot and rubbed in a small circle. "Take your dress off," panted Frank. "You have to too," she replied. Frank's response to that was also instant. "I'm not wearing a dress," he panted. Her hands, which had gathered her skirts and lifted them to her hips, stopped. "Sorry," he huffed. "It's hard to think straight when I'm doing this." He stopped stroking and set to taking his own clothes off. Within a minute their pale skin shone in the moonlight. It was a balmy night, warm enough that being naked was not uncomfortable in any way. Becky rubbed until her knees began to feel weak, and then sank down in the soft grass to lie back with her legs spread. Frank, wanting to be closer to her for reasons he didn't question, knelt, standing on his knees between her spread thighs so he could see what she was doing. Becky lifted her head for the same reason, except that she was watching Frank's hand slide back and forth along that stiff thing. Becky had never rubbed for a long time. It felt good to do it, but something happened down there that made everything drippy when she did, and she'd never wanted to get her hand all wet. She didn't think it was pee, but didn't know what else it could be. That happened now but, for the first time, she didn't stop. She thought about how Frank had said something came out of his willy when he rubbed, and how maybe that happened to girls too, somehow. "Ohhhh Becky," Frank moaned. "I feel like it's going to happen again." "Something's going to come out?" she panted. "I think so," he gasped. "It's starting to feel like it did before." Becky tried something new. She used three fingers and rubbed with them. It made her want to thrust her hips up into the air and her head fell back. Her fingers went faster. She couldn't stop now if her life depended on it. "UUUNNNNGGGGG!" grunted Frank, and she lifted her head again. His face looked just like it had in the water. His hand moved even faster now as he rubbed so hard that it looked like it must be painful. She realized that she was doing almost the same thing as she rubbed the bump and the slippery lips around it furiously. Her brother suddenly looked straight up at the sky and groaned. Amazed, she watched a stream of white leap from the tip of his willy and arc through the air. Gleaming in the moonlight it looked just like the blobs that had floated in the pond, except that it was just one long string that landed right between her breasts, feeling too hot to have come from inside his body. That stream was followed by three or four more that flipped wildly up into the air as his hand kept jerking. She felt droplets of the stuff fall on her skin, here and there, always feeling hot. Then the pressure inside her belly burst, like a soap bubble. It took her completely by surprise and she sucked in air and held it as her body screamed things at her it had never even whispered before. The same kind of tingles that made her nipples feel so good when she squeezed them burst from the center of her belly. Except these weren't tingles, so much as they were like streaks of sunlight in a dusty room. She saw spots of bright light as her oxygen-starved lungs still refused to let the air in them out, and the streaks turned to something so delicious that she was afraid she'd died, and was already in the afterlife that the preacher talked about in church. Finally her lungs let go and the air whooshed out of them. She almost gurgled as she drew more air in immediately. She wanted to scream her ecstasy with that breath, but some shouting whisper reminded her that her mother would hear. Instead she lifted the hand she wasn't rubbing with and bit down on it as choking sobs of joy leaked past the obstruction. She rolled, drawing her knees up to trap her hand, ending up in a fetal position. The waves left her slowly at first, and then, were only a memory. She felt so tired, but was also so happy. She found the energy to lift her head again and looked around, over her shoulder. Frank was slumped, his hand still holding his willy, his head drooping. He was breathing like he'd run a long way. She realized she was too. ------- Bella woke when they returned and made the hay snap and crackle as they lay back down. Her sleepy mind didn't register the amount of time they'd been gone ... only that they were back safely. Then she slept again. There were two or three more soft, sucking kisses between the siblings, before they too slept in the warmth of the night. ------- After leaving The Lucky Strike AJ decided to make a night of it. He'd ridden hard all day to get here, detouring to the west to pick up the Chisholm trail again, and follow it to where there was a landmark someone had pointed out as the trailhead to Wichita. A well worn trail had taken him directly to the town. It had added some miles to his trip, but he was pretty sure he could go directly back to the sod house from town, now that he knew where it was. There were some things he wanted to look for in town before heading back, but it was too late now. He'd do that in the morning. Sleeping in a real bed was almost difficult for him, but he managed. It seemed like he was sinking into a bog in the soft mattress. He was unhappy that he woke early, just before dawn and couldn't get back to sleep. Habits like that die hard. He got up and dressed in the same clothes he'd ridden in the day before. He decided to get some breakfast to send him off, and went downstairs, carrying his saddle bags. He'd just given his order for eggs and bacon when a man, wearing a silver star, sat down opposite him. He had a bushy moustache, and wore a vest and clean coat. "Sheriff Brady," he said, getting right to the point. "You do any drinking in the Lucky Strike last night?" "I did," said AJ carefully. "Sam says you found a man bushwhacked." "I did," said AJ carefully." "What'd he look like?" asked the Sheriff. "Hard to tell," said AJ. "He was just bones when I found him. Had on farmer's clothes, and no gun belt. He was at the doorway of a sod house. Place was tore up, like somebody had looked for something." The man seemed to think on that a while. "Could be him," he said, finally. "How far?" "Day's ride north," said AJ. "Might be him," he said again. "What'd you do?" "When I found him?" asked AJ. "'Course when you found him," said the lawman. "I buried him," said AJ. He felt nervous, but tried to control it. Sheriff Brady leaned back. A woman brought AJ his plate and Brady ordered. "Bring me bear sign with my coffee and flapjacks to follow, Mable," he said, looking at the woman briefly. "Got any of that honey left?" "Sure do, Sheriff," said Mable. "Some of that too," he said. "And don't skimp on the butter this time, hear?" "I never skimp on anything and you know it!" she said in a huff. She whirled and stomped away. Brady grinned at her retreating form. "If you say something like that you get an extra hot cake," he said. "She's tender about that kind of thing and tries to shut you up." He grinned. AJ took a bite of his eggs. If things went south, he at least wanted food in his belly. Brady's grin disappeared, and he stared at AJ. "You find anything lying around?" "Where I found him?" asked AJ. "Yup." "There was some rusty tools, and a plow," said AJ. "and some clothes scattered about. That's all." Mable returned with a cup of coffee and a plate that had a round pastry on it. She set them in front of the Sheriff without saying anything and left. Brady sipped the coffee, but left the pastry alone. "What makes you think he was bushwhacked?" asked the lawman. "Had one bullet hole right here," said AJ, again touching his forehead. "There was a matching hole in his hat. Looked like he opened the door to that sod house and took one quick." "Damn," said the sheriff. He seemed upset. AJ waited. Eventually Brady felt his stare. "I s'pect the man you buried is Grady Baldwin. He showed up one day saying he struck it rich in California a few years back and was going to become a gentleman farmer. Said he'd built himself a house up that direction. Had a wagon and bought tools and that plow you saw. Paid for everything with gold dust. Seen him here twice a year after that, for supplies. He always paid with dust. I thought he was half crazy, living out there all by hisself. He was always trying to get the widow Jenkins to go out there and be what he called his gentleman farmer wife." "All I found was one body," said AJ. "I didn't really look at the clothes. Some of them might have been women's clothes, I guess." "She thought he was crazy too," said the sheriff dismissively. He frowned. "But Lester Crabtree didn't think so. Least wise I s'pect it. Every time Grady came to town Lester stuck to him like glue. He bought Grady drinks and pestered him to tell stories about mining in California. He was trouble, that boy, and when Grady didn't show up one September, and Lester left town the same time, I got to thinking on that. Didn't know where Grady's place was, though. "I didn't see anything that looked like gold dust," said AJ. "'Course I didn't poke around all that much." "Wouldn't expect you to find anything if Lester bushwhacked him," said Brady. "He'd have taken what there was and lit out." "You want me to take you there?" asked AJ, worried even more now. "Naw," said the lawman. "Ain't in my jurisdiction anyhow. Not if it's a day's ride from here. Grady never said how long it took him to get to town. He was a harmless old coot. Sad if what I think happened to him did happen." "It is," said AJ. Mable brought a plate piled high with hotcakes and two bowls. One had butter in it and the other had honey. "I never skimp!" she almost shouted. "And don't you ever say I did!" "Calm down, Mable," said the sheriff, rubbing his hands. He picked up his napkin and tucked it in the throat of his shirt, above the bolo tie that kept it closed. AJ relaxed a bit as the sheriff paid attention to shoving forkfuls of hotcakes into his mouth. He saved the round confection known as bear sign, apparently to have as dessert. Still, while things had gone well, AJ didn't want to answer any more questions. He finished his breakfast, and pushed his chair back. "Nice to meet you, Sheriff," he said. "But I need to be on my way." The man looked up with a glint in his eye. "You won't find any gold up there, son." "Didn't think I would," said AJ. The sheriff shook his head. "Go on then. You done the right thing, telling somebody. Grady didn't have no family, and nobody will miss him, but I hate it when there's a mystery." "Sure thing," said AJ. Then he lifted his saddle bags, turned, and made a beeline for the livery stable. As he collected his horse, AJ dug into his pocket and pulled out all the money he had left. There was a little more than fifty dollars. On impulse he turned to the man who had replaced the boy who had been there the night before. "There any horses for sale around here?" "Nothing wrong with this one," said the stableman. "We got a blacksmith that could fix that bad shoe if you want. AJ didn't take offense that his shoeing job was judged as substandard. "This is a horse for someone else," said AJ. "If you're looking for a cow pony, I might have something," said the man. Feller got hisself shot here a few weeks ago in an argument over a woman. His horse is still here." The man took him to the stall at the end of the stable. Inside was a gelding, about fourteen hands high, with a grayish dun coat. The horse pricked up its ears and whinnied, stomping twice with a front hoof. AJ opened the gate and went inside. The horse didn't mind having it's mouth examined. Based on the teeth it looked to be seven or eight years old. There was a western saddle laid on the rail between that stall and the next one. It had a lariat on it, and a scabbard for a rifle, though no weapon was in it. There were no saddle bags present either. The bridle was hanging from a peg. "How much?" asked AJ. "Horse is worth thirty," said the man. "If you want the saddle, you can have it for twenty." "You didn't buy this horse," said AJ. "How much upkeep you got in him?" "He's been here two weeks," said the stableman. "But I ain't letting him go for no fourteen dollars." "I'll give you forty for everything," said AJ. "All I got is fifty, and there's some other things I need to get." "Ain't enough," said the man gruffly. "Then you can feed him for two more weeks," said AJ. He backed out of the stall and went to his horse. He was all the way up on it before he remembered it would jink. He ducked as it did so, barely missing a beam with his head. The horse settled down and he turned it. "Wait!" called the man. "Forty-five?" "Forty," said AJ calmly. "It's all I can spare." The man frowned, and then grinned. "Mister, you got yourself another horse." ------- AJ tied both horses to the hitching post outside the general store. He didn't have enough to get a set of saddle bags, but his own only had buffalo jerky in them. Inside he had to have a little help, but the storekeeper's wife was happy to advise him. He was a little surprised to find she was both friendly to a cowboy and talkative as well. It took him most of an hour to complete his business with her. Back outside, he stuffed the items he bought in one side of his saddlebags and consolidated the jerky into the other. When he rode out of town he had a grand total of a dollar and seventy-five cents to his name. As he rode north, he thought about the fact that he no longer had enough money to make it back to Texas. Not unless he was willing to live off the land the whole way. He didn't worry about that now. He'd lived off the land plenty of times before. Right now he wanted to get back to the sod house, and deliver his cargo. The horse, sensing something in his rider, picked up his pace. ------- Chapter 15 U.S. Marshal William Bennet, one of only four marshals assigned to the Oklahoma Territory, took off his hat and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. His vest and coat were packed in his bedroll. He only wore them when he wanted to impress somebody. Out here in what seemed like the trackless prairie of the Oklahoma Territory, there wasn't anybody to impress. He'd been conducting his investigation into a mysterious group of rustlers for a week now, and all he'd come up with was that there definitely appeared to be cattle missing under circumstances that supported the rustling theory. He was working his way north, and figured he'd probably be in Kansas soon, if he wasn't already. He wasn't worried about jurisdictional issues, but he also knew there was somebody in Kansas doing the same thing he was doing. He didn't want to duplicate work, but all the leads he had in his own territory had led to dead ends. It looked like the rustlers, whoever they were, were based north of the Oklahoma Territory. Wichita was somewhere up ahead and, since it was close, he decided to go there and see if he could pick up any new leads. ------- Bella pulled more things out of the wagon and laid them out on the grass. Part of her wanted to stay in this place, where there was already a house, and implements. By the same token, she knew she'd have to have help other than that of her children to make a good start. The problem was that the only man she knew who might stay to do that ... hadn't said he'd stay to do that. She knew she had no claim on him. She didn't count the sex as claim. Men were men and she now knew that women were women. When they thought nobody was looking, both men AND women were wont to let nature take its course. Without examining the reasons for it too closely, she hoped he'd stay. If he wouldn't, she'd have to go on with her children, most likely to Wichita, where she'd have to find some kind of work that would support them. To that end she was repacking the wagon. With everything laid out on the grass, she was deciding what might be needed first, if they stayed. Those things would go back in the wagon last when she repacked it. At first, Becky and Frank had tried to help their mother. But they got in the way more than they helped, so she had told them to go do a survey of the land around the dip. "See what you can find, and be back around noon," were the only instructions she gave them. They did, in fact, walk farther out into the prairie than they'd ever been before, trying to walk around the outside of the crescent of trees that made up the 'forest.' Once alone, though, neither could resist making what had happened the night before the center of attention. "Was it just like before?" asked Becky curiously. What had happened to her had NEVER happened before, and she was still thinking about that. "Yup," he said. "I got to feeling all funny and it hurt, kind of, but felt good too. I didn't see the first spurt, but I did see it after that. That's definitely what went through my willy in the pond." "How does it feel now?" she asked. "How does what feel?" "Your willy, of course!" she said. "Just like always," he said. "Is it hard?" "Not now." "Oh." She sounded almost sad. "If you took your dress off it would get hard," he said, helpfully. "I don't think so," she said, but she didn't sound sure about that. "You were making some funny noises yourself," he observed. "It looked like you might be having a fit, except you didn't thrash around." "It was so strange!" she gasped. "It felt like there was this thing in me that was getting bigger and bigger and then it popped and I about died!" "Did it hurt?" "No!" she yipped. "There was nothing hurtful about it at all!" She frowned. "I've a mind that it's kind of like what happens to you, except that I don't squirt anything. I get all wet, but nothing squirts." She blushed, suddenly aware of how personal the thing was they were talking about. But after doing what they'd done, she decided that just talking wasn't so bad at all, and she relaxed. "So does that mean you want to do it again?" he asked hopefully. She looked down, a bit shy for some reason. "Uh huh," she said. "Good!" he said. "Me too! You want to do it right now?" "Now?" she asked weakly. "In the daylight and all?" "We can't keep getting up and going to the outhouse that doesn't exist every night. Mamma will know something is going on." "It just feels weird to think about taking off my clothes in the daylight," she said. "Just think of it like we're taking a bath, except without the water," he suggested. "That's stupid," she said. "Let's not fight," he came back. "I want to rub again, and I want to watch you do it while I do. That makes me get to the good part real fast." While she was willing to be naked with her brother in the daytime, Becky wasn't willing to do it on the open prairie. She pulled him to the forest and into the shade of the trees there. In the woods there was no soft grass to lie down or kneel on. Frank Jr. took her to the tree they had climbed before. He pointed to a low branch that split about two feet from the trunk. "You can sit there and lie back on the branch. I can stand on another branch." Becky couldn't decide whether to take her dress off on the ground, or wait until she was up in the tree. Frank stripped down to the buff and waited for her. Eventually she decided to leave her dress on the ground. She watched Frank's face through half lowered lashes as she folded up her dress and set it daintily on the ground. She felt odd wearing her boots, but she knew she'd need them to climb, and left them on. Frank took his off and then stood, staring at her. His willy looked rock hard. She realized it bent to one side a little bit. For the first time she paid attention to the sack that was under it. It was brown, darker than the rest of his skin for some reason and looked like it was packed full of something. There were lots of little brown hairs sprouting from it. She couldn't think of anything else it looked like. Her eyes left his groin to find him still staring. "It makes me feel so strange when you stare at me like that," she said, feeling the urge to cover her breasts and the hair between her legs. "You're so pretty it almost hurts to look at you," he sighed. She blushed. That didn't make her feel strange. It made her feel wonderful. It also made her want to rub. She raised her hands to squeeze both nipples as they popped to attention. "Why are you doing that?" asked her brother. "It feels good," she said. "Remember what AJ did to Mamma?" he asked. "Which thing?" she asked. "He was sucking her ... where you're pinching ... like a baby, kind of." Before seeing his mother and sister naked, Frank's only experience with a woman's covered flesh had been the few times he'd caught sight of a woman feeding a baby from her breast. Even then he couldn't see much, and the women didn't like him watching them, even though they were doing it right in front of him. "He did," she said. She tried to imagine what that would feel like. "Can I try that?" he asked. There was longing in his voice. "I don't know," she said hesitantly. "Do you think we should?" "Don't see why not," he said. "I promise not to have sex with you. while I do it." She stood, wide eyed as he slowly approached. Something in her wanted to turn and run, but she held her ground. He didn't lean down and start right away. Instead he reached out one finger to press into the flesh of her breast. She watched as it made a dent there. Then the pressure lessened and the fingertip slid up to run across one stiff, pink nipple. "Ooooo," she sighed. "What's it feel like?" he asked. "Good. Different than when I do it." He pinched the nipple, almost carefully and she felt the ball of warmth start to expand in her loins. "I like that," she gasped. He licked his lips and finally leaned down. First he just licked the tip and she jerked. She put her hands on his shoulders to let him know it was OK and then she saw stars in broad daylight as his lips closed around the pink nubbin and he sucked. "AHHHHHHHH," she groaned, bending over as a kind of cord or rope suddenly burst into being inside her. It was attached at one end to the nipple he was sucking, and at the other end to the bump she now wanted to rub very badly. And when he sucked, that rope got shorter. Her chin bounced off his shoulder and the nipple was pulled from his mouth. As he stood up, alarmed, his head hit her chin and she saw stars of a different kind as pain shot through her jaw. "OWWWWWW," she moaned. "Did I hurt you?" he gasped. Her hand went to rub her chin. "Yes!" She worked her jaw and the pain diminished. "But not what you were doing. Just when you conked me with your head. "How did the other feel?" he asked anxiously. "It made me want to rub," she said, still working her jaw back and forth. "Can I do it again?" This time she was prepared for it, and when the rope tightened she just lifted one knee. She had to hold onto him to keep from falling over as he sucked over and over again. Finally he stopped and stood back up. "Nothing's coming out," he said. "It's only when you have a baby that there's milk, silly!" laughed Becky. "Do the other one." He was happy to comply. It felt good as he sucked, even though nothing came of it, except her moans. They were moans of happiness. That was obvious, and it made him feel really good to be able to get those sounds out of her throat. Finally she pushed him away. "I have to rub now!" she panted. He boosted her up with his hands on her waist, as he'd done before. As her backside flashed by him he gave in to the sudden urge to kiss it. She giggled as she pulled herself up. When she spread her legs this time the pale lips that had been dry and tightly closed were flushed and wet looking, almost glistening in the odd shaft of sunlight that penetrated the leaves. She looked down, to see him looking up. It felt completely different today. She assumed that was because there was no dress to look up, but didn't think about it much. Instead she lifted one leg to open herself up to his gaze. "Why do you like looking there so much?" she asked, resisting the urge to put her fingers where he was looking. "I don't know," he said. "Seeing it makes me want to rub, like you." "Then get up here so we can!" she laughed. He climbed quickly and was in position before she had found a way to settle gingerly into the spot he'd pointed out. She found she could lie back and not feel like she was going to fall if she gripped another branch nearby with one hand. The fingers of her free hand slid across her belly and onto her already wet sex. Frank mimicked her, holding onto a branch above his head while reaching for his willy with the other hand. He started stroking rapidly. "Don't go so fast," she sighed, feeling the luscious tingles as her fingers made the bump get bigger somehow. "I can't help it," he panted. "I want to squirt right this instant!" "Try to wait," she moaned, rubbing faster. "I want you to squirt on me like you did last night, but right when It feels the best." "I'll try," he grimaced. It didn't quite work out the way she wanted, but she didn't really care that much. He squirted first, but was far enough away that the only place any of it landed was on her thigh and knee. Where the urge came from, she couldn't have told, but her hand slipped down to wipe through the strip of white and then returned to rub her slippery bump. With his stuff on her fingers things were even slicker down there and she imagined the heat of his stuff was heating up her bump. She reached her climax shortly after. This time, having some idea of what to expect, it wasn't as scary. It wasn't as overpowering either. This time she felt like she could experience every detail as the streaks of pleasure started right at her bump and then seemed to fill her belly. There were more little cords or something inside her, and they all led to her nipples, transmitting the joy in her loins to those tender pink nubs. As it happened to her she wished he was sucking there again. She just knew that would make things even better. ------- When the children skipped into the house for the noon meal Bella noticed their flushed and happy faces. She ascribed that to liking the area, and the side of the scales that suggested staying there dipped a little lower. "What did you find?" she asked. "Look!" said Frank Jr., holding out a closed fist. He opened it to display a handful of wheat kernels. "Where did you get that?" asked Bella. "Up there," he said, pointing to the top of the ridge to the south. "There's a whole field of it, kind of. There's a lot of weeds mixed in, but a lot of this too." Bella picked up a few of the grains and squeezed them between her fingers. "I don't know how to mill flour," she said, frowning. "But flour could be made from this." "If we harvested it couldn't we sell it to someone to make it into flour?" asked Becky. "It's been many years since I helped at harvest," sighed Bella. "I know how to cut and stack the sheaves, but what happens after that is a mystery to me." "But you can sell the wheat ... right?" insisted Becky. "Yes, of course. We'd have to find someone who wants to buy it, though, and I have no idea where to look," she said. Then they turned their attention to the meal, which was more of the stew, but was just as good. Bella announced that she'd finished repacking the wagon, and would like to take another nap during the heat of the afternoon. The teens darted glances at each other, but said nothing. "We need more firewood, though" said their mother. "And I'd like to pick enough wheat that I can experiment with a way to crush the kernels or something. I got the Dutch oven out of the wagon and I can use it in the fireplace to bake us some bread. We have flour left, but it won't last forever." "You take your nap," said Frank quickly. "We'll take care of the rest of it." Bella let herself be talked into the luxury of another nap in the cool of the sod house. ------- For once Becky didn't mind getting hot and sweaty as she lugged armloads of wood to stack outside the house. Frank Jr. was working hard too, and she knew, even though it hadn't been discussed, that they'd end up in the pond when they were finished. To pass the time she tried to think up a way to make something that could cordon off part of the pond and keep fish and turtles out of it. Then they gathered handfuls of wheat by the simple expedient of sliding a hand along the stalk until the head was in their hands and stripping the kernels off. Becky used her skirts as a basket, eventually having to use two hands to hold it while her brother added more. "I think that's enough," she said. She had no idea how much wheat it took to make flour, but the weight of the grain in her impromptu basket was pulling at the neck of her dress. "Don't they lay the wheat out in the sun before they do anything with it?" asked Frank as they walked back to the house. "Maybe," said Becky, not quite sure. "What could we lay it out on? I don't want to just put it in the dirt." Frank's eyes lit on the sagging door. It took almost no effort to break the remaining leather hinge and he dragged the door away from the house. She spilled the wheat onto it and they spread it out so it was only one layer deep. "What now?" asked Becky. "I'm real sweaty," said Frank. "Me too." Becky grinned. "Will you protect me from turtles?" "Beats me," said her brother, taking her question seriously. "I don't know how to do that." The other thing Becky had been thinking about that afternoon was how her mother had said that if a man rubbed your special spot in just the right way, it felt even better than when you rubbed it yourself. "There's something else you don't know how to do," she said softly. "But I hope you can learn." ------- "Are you going to rub on me?" asked Frank Jr. as she waded towards him in the pond. "No," she said. "I like what we do, but I still don't think we should have real sex." "What were you talking about, then?" he asked. "I want to try something," she said. She got close to him and reached, under the water. She found his hand gripping his hard willy. "Let me try," she said softly. His eyes opened wide and his hand vanished. She fumbled for it and finally got her hand around it. "It's warm," she sighed. "Just like the stuff that comes out of it." "Wow that feels good," he gasped as she gave it a tentative squeeze. "You move your hand like this," she said, pulling and then pushing. "Oh Becky," he groaned. "That feels so good!" "Did you watch how I rub?" she asked, knowing that his eyes had been glued to that part of her body. He bobbed his head. "Think you could do it like that?" she asked. "Oh please let me try," he moaned. ------- It didn't work out well, at first. Standing in the water, facing each other, it was awkward to be able to touch things just right, and move fingers as fast as they needed to be moved. It felt good ... but not good enough. It was Frank who got the idea to stand beside her, on her right, so she could orient her right hand in the same way he did. That let him reach across her body with his right hand. He was able to press and squeeze and rub her much better that way. Within minutes they were both gasping for air as they got closer and closer to that special place that each was seeking. Frank was able to get her there and she squealed as the feeling washed over her. Her hand stopped moving on his prick and squeezed hard. She lifted a leg and her face fell forward into the water. She lifted it right back out, sputtering, but hadn't inhaled any. "Oh yes," she moaned. It wasn't the end of the world, but it felt at least as good as when she did it. When she could breathe again she realized she had his willy in an iron grip. "I'm sorry," she said, starting to stroke him again. "It's all right," he said, overjoyed that he'd done it right for her. "Can you squirt?" she asked. "I don't think so," he said. "But I don't care. It feels real nice." "I want to make it squirt!" she moaned. She tried for another ten minutes, with no success. He tried to explain that her grip wasn't quite right, and that she still wasn't going quite fast enough. She decided that the water was the problem, and that her elbow kept bumping into his stomach and finally gave up. They went to the shore and she watched as he lay back on the grass and started slicking his hand along his willy. "Wait!" she said. He stopped and she told him to take his hand away. Kneeling, she gripped him again and found that it was much easier this way to move her hand fast, going up and down. "That's it," he sighed. "Oh Becky, you have no idea how good that feels!" "Yes I do," she murmured, concentrating on the task in her hand. "Just a little bit tighter," he panted. "And go up a teeny bit more." She watched as the loose skin at the tip scrunched up to cover the tip and then went down to bare a slick looking knob. She'd never been able to see it this well before and was fascinated. "Oh yeah," he groaned. "Just a little more. It's going to happen!" A few seconds later he groaned piteously and the white goo started shooting up into the air, to Becky's delight. The only place it got on her this time was on her arm and hand, but she had a much better view of it. She kept whipping her hand up and down as it kept spurting, producing a little less each time until all there was was a mess in the circle of her closed hand. "Stop!" he gasped. Intuitively she realized that just like her bump got ultra sensitive once that special feeling had come and gone, his willy might feel the same way. She stopped moving her hand and just squeezed it gently. She tried using the same finger movements that she did when milking a cow, but that didn't work and he groaned again. Finally she found that if she moved her hand down slowly, and then tightened up as she moved it back up slowly, she could make his willy give up the last of its cream. She sat back on her calves, looking down at her brother, who was lying there as if he were almost dead. "Thank you," he moaned. "I didn't think anything else could feel as good as doing that myself." "I did it right?" she asked. "You sure did," he sighed. It made her feel like rubbing again. ------- Chapter 16 It was suppertime when they heard a yell and went outside to see AJ riding down into the bowl, leading a horse behind him. All three ran to meet him. Bella felt a sudden desire to be naked, doing things with him that she knew would make her feel unbearably happy. His wide grin made her heart seize in her chest and she found her hands at her breasts, of their own accord. "Where'd you get that?" gasped Frank Jr., looking at the gray dun. "A proper cowboy has to have a proper horse," said AJ. "Think you can handle him?" "Oh WOW!" yipped Frank Jr. He said it again maybe five or six times. "Don't ride him too hard right now," said AJ, handing him the reins. "I switched horses every half hour to get back as soon as possible and both of them have been running all day." Frank fairly leapt into the saddle. His feet didn't quite reach the stirrups, but he didn't wait for them to be adjusted. He pulled the horse around and, holding tight to the saddle horn with one hand, trotted up the hill toward the wheat field. "You shouldn't have done that," said Bella. Her heart wasn't seized any longer. It was beating like mad in her chest now, and there were tears in her eyes. "A proper cowboy has to have a proper horse," he said again. He climbed down and opened a saddle bag. "Got something for the ladies too," he said. He pulled out two flat packages, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. He had to tear the paper to find out which one to hand to Bella. "Yours is red," he said. He handed the other one to Becky. "And yours is blue." They were simple dresses, in a gingham checked pattern. Neither was fancy, but both were new. "I owed you a dress," he said to Bella. He looked at Becky. "And you just deserved a new outfit." Seconds later Bella was almost climbing on him. Becky, knowing what was about to happen, went into the house to change into her new dress. Eight or ten kisses later, with AJ's hands squeezing her breasts, Bella pushed him away. "I want you so bad I might let you do it right here in the open," she panted. "You got back just in time for supper." "I'd sure like to see you in that dress," he said, his eyes glittering. "Later," she said. "If I take this one off right now the children will see me chasing you all over this place like a harlot." "Can't chase a man who won't run," said AJ, grinning. Her face changed, and a smoky look came into her eyes. "Later," she said softly. "I'll catch you later." "Yes Ma'am," he sighed. "Let's eat. I'm starved, and I need to build up some energy for later." He grinned again. ------- They waited for Frank for a while. Becky's new dress fit pretty well, though it was loose in a few places. Bella opined that it could be taken in where needed. Talking about it made her anxious to try on her own dress and she suddenly changed her mind. She sent AJ out to see if he could see Frank Jr. anywhere and wave him in while she changed. They were already eating when Frank Jr. finally rode back in and dismounted. Then he stayed outside, taking care of his horse. He remembered seeing a curry comb in the pile of tools they'd found and got it. The horse whickered as it was tended, and reached around to nuzzle the young man's shoulder. When he went inside, and his eyes adjusted to the light, he almost gave himself away staring at his sister. He'd seen her in dresses before, even a new one now and then, but he hadn't felt back then like he did now. He did, in fact, blurt out "You're so pretty!" before he realized he'd done it. "Why thank you, darling," said his mother, assuming he was talking about her. "Becky looks right smart in her new dress too, don't you think?" "Sure!" Frank Jr. gulped. He got a brilliant smile from his sister, who knew exactly who he'd been talking about. ------- After supper AJ brought out the other things he'd purchased at the general store. He spread packets of seeds on the rough table top in the house. The help he'd gotten from the store keeper's wife had extended beyond the dresses. She'd known what things grew in this environment, and when they had to be planted. She asked a few questions about where he planned to settle, and then piled him high, so to speak, with what he needed. She's written with pencil on the outside of the packets. "See here?" he said, pushing some packets to one side. "There's things that can be planted right now, and harvested before the snows come. And then there's things to plant just before the snows, and in the spring too. It's a whole year's worth of eating, according to the woman in the store." Bella's reaction to the seeds, if anything, was even more emotional than when she had held up the new dress. Her feelings were so strong that it sobered her. "Let's take a walk," she suggested to AJ. The last rays of the sun were staining the western sky vermilion as they strolled, with no particular destination in mind. They paralleled the shore of the pond, wading through foot high grass. It was quite some time before Bella's thoughts had congealed to the point that she could express them. "This is a good place," she said. "Yes." "We could make it here." "I s'pect so," he agreed. "What I mean by that is that ... WE ... could make it here. I'm not confident about doing that with only Becky and Frank Jr. to share the work." She looked over at him. "What I'm saying is that if we stay here ... I hope you'll stay too." AJ stopped suddenly. His mind had difficulty forming the pictures that needed to be formed to process this situation. For weeks the ever present thought in his mind was about how to stay alive and free from the law while they moved. His only thoughts about the future had been limited to the future that was made up of the next day, or two. The concept of "them" and "him" was firmly in place, though there was some crossover. What was good for them had fit in with what was good for him, so far. It had been a tumultuous relationship, to be sure, and that upheaval in all their lives had claimed most of their conscious thoughts. Until now. To be sure, the evolution of his relationship with Bella had been positive ... delightful, in fact. He'd already doubled his sexual experience, but somehow that wasn't the most important thing that had happened. More important was the fact that he had someone to care about other than himself and his horse, which was something so new that it still made him a little nervous. And the way she cared for him was something new too ... something he'd never felt coming from another person before. More than once he'd thought to himself "I could get used to this." That all this had changed him, somehow, was something he knew in his heart, but couldn't describe, except for one thing. When he started the ride to Wichita, his only intent was to find the town. Then he'd thought about what he would do once he'd found it. What popped into his mind was that he should just keep moving. It's what he did, after all. He was a cowboy, and cowboys were nomads, who went from place to place, having no permanent home. That thought had taken all of sixty seconds of his thinking time, and had then faded as he knew he WOULD go back. It was only then that he began thinking about what he should take back with him, when he returned to the sod house, and the family that had taken him in, in his time of need. At that point, his only intent was to find Wichita and return, to repay Bella for saving his life. He hadn't really thought much about the future beyond that. He was still thinking of "the future" in terms of days ... maybe a week ... rather than months and years. Now, walking with this woman, her comment had clearly identified the future as those months and ... perhaps ... years. It was something that almost caused his brain to overload as it tried to imagine what those months and years might be like. The overload paralyzed him. Bella recognized a man whose mind was moving a hundred miles an hour, and she let him think, though it was one of the hardest things she could remember ever doing. AJ's mind wasn't whirling quite as fast as Bella thought, though. His thought process was still pragmatic. If he stayed, there would be warm shelter during the winter, with plenty to eat. If he stayed, there would be a woman who was both warm and willing ... a woman he liked in ways that he still didn't understand yet, but which went far beyond what she let him do with her. And, he liked her kids too. There would be time during the winter to bring Frank Jr.'s education up to par, concerning frontier life. And, of course, if the law was looking for him back in Texas ... they wouldn't find him there. Bella's patience finally broke and she couldn't resist reaching out to touch his arm. That touch pulled his attention away from the now rapidly moving images in his mind of what life might be like, snowed in, warm, full of stew, with Bella waiting for him under a blanket, naked. He couldn't put into words what he was feeling. He picked the lowest common denominator and spoke. "I do need a place to winter," he said. Bella felt her heart sink. She was plenty old enough to have recognized that what she felt for this young man, almost young enough to be her son in fact, was a crush, much like a school girl might have. It was similar to what she remembered feeling for Frank, in fact, before she had been with him long enough to find out what kind of man he really was. It was based on hope in the fantasy that she would be happy. But she'd been through things with AJ that she thought had already established what kind of man HE was, and she was pretty sure that, as it would have been hard to find a worse man than Frank, it would be pretty hard to find a better man than AJ. It had taken her all the courage she had to issue her invitation, and his lukewarm reception to it hurt. "I see," she said. The pain in her voice jerked him out of the maelstrom of his thoughts, and he looked to see pain on her face too. He had to think about what had just happened before he put it all together. "That's not all," he said. She waited. She'd already risked her hopes and had them dashed. "It's just that I've never seen myself as ever getting hitched up with a woman." "Married?!" she gasped. "I wasn't talking about getting married!" She blinked. She HADN'T been talking about marriage. She realized she'd only been asking for the status quo to be extended for a year or two, maybe three. And that shocked her, because she had ALWAYS tried to view the future in the long term. "What would it be like then?" he asked. He still couldn't get an image in his mind of what a future, here in this place, with this woman might be like ... except for her lips and naked body. He tried to push that image away. Bella, suddenly nervous about the fact that her moral compass seemed to be whirling, rather than steadily pointing in one direction, tried to think about something else. "We have ground to break, and seeds to plant," she said. "We have improvements to make to the house. We have a stable to build, and an outhouse, and that's just what I can think of right now. There are so many things to do." Now it was AJ whose feelings took a hit. "So I'm just a hired hand," he said. She looked shocked. What she'd let him do ... what she'd done with him ... was certainly not the relationship she'd have with some hired hand. "Of course not!" Her face flamed red, partly with embarrassment and partly with anger that he didn't recognize how special he was to her. "What then?" he asked. Trying to come up with a proper classification for this unique relationship made her confused and frustrated. "I don't know!" she almost yelled. "I just want you to stay!" Tears of frustration formed in her eyes. One broke free and rolled down her cheek. "Don't cry," he said, anguish in his voice. He was proud of the happiness he'd seen in her, happiness he knew he had some part in. He didn't want there to be any pain. He didn't want her to think of Frank. His natural instinct was to pull her to him ... to comfort her. She clung to him at first, but the insane urge in her loins caused by feeling his muscles with her hands made her push him back. If he wasn't going to stay, she needed to put some distance between them. The thought of that caused more silent tears. "I owe you for Frank's horse," she said, her voice shaky. "We have the money I took from..." The thought of that made her feel ill. "We have some money," she finished. AJ didn't view this as the distance-making exercise it was intended to be. He saw it as a routine offer to repay a loan. But he hadn't bought the horse with that in mind, nor the dress or seeds either. They had been simple gifts, to people he cared about. Now his thoughts were pragmatic. "You're going to need that money to get through the winter," he said. "You'll need it whether you stay here, or move on, and the seeds too. They can be used anywhere." Bella's hopes had fallen so low that at this point she just wanted it to be over. In a way, she was used to hopelessness, and the thought of a dismal future. She couldn't blame him for wanting to go on with his life. She reminded herself that she should be thankful for the few moments of pure bliss she'd experienced with him. She was well aware that she'd never experienced such bliss before. The thought that she might never again almost brought more tears, but she clamped down on her emotions. "I moved some things into the house," she said listlessly. "We'll have to pack them back in the wagon in the morning." AJ was confused. "I thought you wanted to stay here." "Not if you're leaving," she said, feeling her eyes overflowing. "I didn't say I was leaving," he said, and thought back to what had been said, and where she might have gotten that idea. "I wouldn't leave you until you're settled, and can make it on your own." Bella blinked. She realized she was holding her breath. There had been mixed signals in that simple comment. The first part had made the hard, heavy knot in her stomach begin to loosen. The last part suggested that he WOULD leave ... someday. The thought of never knowing when he might up and ride away was something she knew would just kill her slowly, and the knot tightened again. Hopelessness robbed her of civility, and circumspect speech. "If you're going to go, then just do it," she said, as anger bubbled out of the knot in her stomach. "Don't stay here and make me fall even more in love with you before you leave!" "Love?" AJ's voice sounded hollow. His eyebrows rose, making the whites of his eyes visible all around their dark brown centers. This was where the difference in age between them was an important difference. Bella knew what love was. She had tried and tried to BE in love, but it was impossible with Frank. She had given all that love to her children, and used the strength of it to insert herself between them and their abusive father. Love had given her the strength to survive in a loveless marriage. AJ, on the other hand, knew only what lust was. He'd felt that, and filed it away in his mind where it belonged. Love was a concept that he knew existed, but was a mystery to him. No woman had ever told him she loved him. It was the lack of a good definition for love that had caused him to put Bella and her children in a unique category of human beings. As short an amount of time as they'd spent together, AJ felt closer to them than he did even with his brother drovers. He hadn't known what that meant, really. He'd just accepted it as a phenomenon he hadn't run into yet. He hadn't connected that feeling with the term "love." Now, at her use of the word, a fragile connection was made. "You love me?" he asked, his veins filled with a strange cocktail of fear, interest, longing and curiosity. "I shouldn't have said that," she said softly. The look on his face wasn't the mirth or derision she had expected. "You love me?" he asked again, as if he was tasting the words in his mouth. Bella felt almost like it was required that she justify her ill thought comment. "I certainly wouldn't lie with a man I didn't love," she said weakly, knowing as she said it that it was a lie. She hadn't loved AJ that first time. She'd been grateful, but her urges had been the driving force there. The argument in her mind about that filled her with the urge to explain and she started to speak again, only to suddenly find his finger sealing her lips. "Hush," he said quietly. "Let me think." He thought of the two saloon girls who'd taken him into their beds. The first time had been terrifying, when he hadn't known what to expect. That girl had been kind to him, teaching him how to be a man. He'd been thankful, though he hadn't said so. He'd liked her and, had he ever returned to that place, he would certainly have asked for her again. The second girl was the one who had refined his skills, and taught him even more. There was a warm spot in his heart for her too. It had been a business transaction, and he was a very satisfied customer. But when he put Bella up beside them, she wasn't in the same category. Bella had done this with him not for money, but because she wanted to ... loved him ... though that still seemed strange. She had been enthusiastic in a way that even his inexperienced mind had been able to recognize as something that couldn't be bought at any price. He was sure that's what made it so much better than it had been with those two saloon girls. And how it made him feel about her was different too. He blinked, and then looked at the woman who hadn't moved his finger from her lips. "I'm not sure," he said tentatively. The fear surged in his chest at the thought of using this mysterious word for the first time. "I mean I don't know for sure what love is ... but I might love you too." Something inside him told him to run, screaming, as far and fast as he could. His muscles tensed and he removed his finger from her lips as he prepared to flee. What he had no idea existed, and would become known some day as the fight or flight syndrome had him firmly in its grip. The change in the chemical percentages in Bella's brain was abrupt and almost violent as despair was replaced almost magically by hope. What made it even more powerful was that this was genuine hope, rather than her brain trying to convince her to make something into hope. "You do?" It was the only thing she could think of to say, and it sounded completely insufficient to her ears as a response. "I ain't never been in love before," he said, sounding a little wary. "But I don't want to leave you. I want to stay, and see you every day. Making you happy makes ME happy. Does that make any kind of sense?" "YES!" She almost bit her tongue yelling it. Then tears were streaming down her cheeks again and her shoulders shook at the mixture of relief and joy, and hope that overwhelmed her. "Oh AJ," she moaned as her knees gave way and she sat down hard on the grass. "Don't cry," he moaned. "Please don't cry. I was only saying what came to my mind." Laughter came next and she fell on her side, laughing so hard that she couldn't breathe. She suddenly understood the meaning of the word "euphoria," and reveled in feeling it. He was kneeling over her, and concern was stamped deep into his face. She couldn't talk yet, but the thought that he was worried about her had to be dealt with so that he wouldn't get things wrong. Her fingers fumbled at the front of her new dress ... the dress her man, as she suddenly thought of him, had bought her. It buttoned, and with shaky fingers she undid the buttons and pulled the material wide to shamelessly show him her breasts. It was all she could think to do as she felt a darkness closing around her. She wanted to laugh more, but had no breath left to do it with. It looked like his face was peering at her through a tunnel. His mouth moved, and his voice sounded slow and deep, like it was coming from a well. Then, almost with satisfaction, she let the blackness close around her. ------- Chapter 17 She regained consciousness almost immediately, as he picked her up, but left her eyes closed, relaxed in his arms as he carried her into the house and he laid her tenderly on the bed. She finally opened her eyes to see his chin, and then the concerned faces of her children as he leaned back. "We was talking and she just passed out," she heard AJ say. "With her dress open like that?" came the voice of her son, AJ. "Mamma?" That was her daughter, Becky, who was leaning over her. She felt Becky's hands pull her dress back together again and her hands came alive. The dress had been opened for AJ. Only he could close it. Full consciousness came back so quickly that she wasn't sure it had ever left. "I'm fine!" she said. "Stop that." Her hands seemed to fall back down, in the process somehow spreading the cloth to expose her breasts again. "But your breasts, Mamma," whined Becky. "AJ may button me up ... if he wants to," she sighed. "MAMMA!" squealed her daughter. "You two go harvest some more wheat," she ordered. "Or corn or whatever. Just leave us alone for a while." She looked to see AJ's face, peering down at her. It was sideways, and she tried to crank her head around to see him properly, but couldn't do it. His head moved and suddenly he looked right. "Come on, Becky," she heard Frank Jr. say. AJ sank to his knees. He still looked worried. "I was afraid I killed you with loose talk," he said. "You didn't kill me," she said, smiling. "You made me very happy. I don't think I've ever been that happy in my life. I wasn't used to it, that's all." "I thought you were mad at me," he said. "We can talk about this later," she said. "I sent them out for a reason." His eyes flicked to her exposed breasts, and then back to her face. "You don't have to do this," he said cautiously. "I WANT to do this," she said firmly. "You do?" He sounded a little like Frank Jr. had one Christmas morning when she told him he could open his present. "I can?" he'd said, so full of hope and joy that it had made her heart nearly burst. "I do," she said simply, saving more passionate words for later. ------- "What in blazes is going on?" wailed Becky. She and Frank Jr. had been cutting up corn cobs, creating makeshift checkers, so they could play by the hearth on a board drawn on the stone with the end of a burned stick. They'd decided to do that because, with AJ's return, they were quite sure there would be no chance to play the other game they'd discovered ... the one where they were both naked. When AJ had brought their mother in, all limp like that, Becky's heart had seized up. She was sure her mother was dead. Then as he laid her down, she'd moaned and Becky had seen her dress open like that, and it just hadn't made any kind of sense that she could imagine. "I don't know," admitted Frank Jr. He'd been worried too, until it was clear she was going to be all right. Now the image of her big, soft breasts wouldn't leave his mind. He realized his willy was rock hard again. "What did she mean that AJ could do it ... if he wanted to?" "I don't KNOW," rasped Frank. His hand went to squeeze his willy. "Well, I'm going to find out!" said Becky, and started back toward the house. ------- Once again the siblings found themselves getting ready to spy on their mother. This time she wasn't in a wagon though, in the dark of night. It looked for all the world like Becky was just going to go up to the door and stick her head in there. He tugged at her dress and she stopped. "You need to crawl up to the door," he whispered. "Like a snake. That way your head will be down low and they won't notice you." "If you think I'm going to crawl in the dirt in my brand new dress, you're crazy," she said. "You can't just look in the door!" he rasped. "They'll see you. At least stand back a ways. Maybe it's bright enough in there, with the fire going, that they won't be able to see us in the dark out here." "All right," said Becky. They stood about ten or so feet from the house, on one side of the house. Then, with Frank standing behind his sister, his hands on her waist, they sidestepped slowly around the corner until they could see into the house through the open doorway. The problem was they didn't see anything. They sidestepped further and suddenly they could see both AJ and their mother. Becky gasped. Frank Jr. with his hands on her waist, gulped. These soft noises were the result of them learning MUCH more detail about the act of having sex. Both of the adults were buck naked. Their mother was lying on her back and AJ's face was pressed firmly between her legs. Her fingers were in his hair and he was making "Mmmmmmmm" noises. Their mother was just gasping, at first, and then she moaned "Yes! Lick me right there!" He did so, obviously with gusto, until Bella arched her back and whined about how wonderful it had felt, like it was over, even though AJ hadn't moved his face away at all. Then AJ crawled up, his stiff prick hanging down and, right before the eyes of both unbelieving teenagers, he put his willy INSIDE their mother! Becky blinked as she saw that long hard thing start to slide into her mother. She blinked again and then rubbed her eyes. How could he DO that? Where was it going? She knew she had a hole of sorts down there. She'd found it with the tip of her finger, but there wasn't room for something like THAT to go in there! Frank Jr. watching the same exact thing, perceived it completely differently than his sister did. He had seen his sister's pussy lips spread apart, and had seen that darkness that was exposed. He now knew that the darkness was a hole of some kind that all women had, because that was the only way AJ could be doing what he was doing. Their mother groaned, just like she'd groaned in the wagon that night, and AJ pulled his willy back out of her. Then he thrust it back in and Bella said "Oh yes, AJ, don't ever stop, honey." Within a minute his butt was bobbing up and down. They had seen that in the wagon. They just hadn't realized what it actually meant. Becky had assumed it was a result of AJ rubbing his willy on the outside, like Frank Jr. had done to her in the pond. Now, watching that thick, long thing slide in and out of their mother, and hearing her cries of joy, it was obvious that THIS was what "having sex" meant, rather than what she had believed up to now. She backed up and ran right into her brother. She turned and pushed him backwards until she was sure her whisper couldn't be heard. "We DIDN'T have sex!" She sounded relieved. "Does that mean we can rub together again?" asked Frank, looking past her shoulder. "'Cause I really would like to be rubbing against you right now." "He was LICKING her!" moaned Becky. "Right between the legs!" "I saw a dog licking another dog like that," whispered Frank Jr. "That was just before they had sex too. I wonder if the boy dog puts his willy inside the girl dog like that." "Would you stop talking about dogs!?" whispered Becky, agitated. "I TOLD you we're not dogs!" "Well some of that sure looks like maybe there's some dog in us then," said Frank, still peering past his sister. A loud, long moan drew them back to stand where they had been earlier. Frank slid his hands around Becky's waist and raised them to cup and squeeze her breasts. He pressed his hard willy into her backside and she pressed back. Her own hands came up to help him rub her tender young breasts. She wanted to squeeze her nipples. Even better would be if Frank sucked them again. It looked very violent to them now. AJ's butt was rising and falling very quickly and when he went in it was with enough force that their mother's breasts wobbled all over her chest. Her legs came up to cross over AJ's. They seemed to be staring into each other's eyes. "Oh Bella," groaned AJ suddenly and this time, when he slammed in, he seemed to freeze. Their mother's hands went from his waist to his back, sliding up and down and she seemed to try to thrust her hips up off the blanket. "I love you!" she groaned. "Ohhhh Bella," he said with a groaning sigh. Both teens were riveted to their spot. Franks fingers had found the hard nubbins of Becky's nipples and were squeezing them through her dress. One of her hands dropped to the front of her dress, down low, and pressed inwards. AJ sank down on their mother and then rolled to one side, flopping the arm away from her out to one side. He was panting and his willy was soft and slimy looking with white stuff all over it. Their eyes went to their mother's crotch, exposed by her still spread legs. There was a mess of the white stuff there too, and, like AJ, she was panting hard. "I have to admit that's one reason I'm glad I'm staying," AJ panted. Bella rolled toward him and they engaged in a long kiss. She raised her head and said "I have to admit that I'd have probably let you do that even if you said you weren't staying." "That's not the only reason I am," he said, reaching up to stroke her hair. "I'm glad," she said, kissing him again. "But after we've spent all the money it's all I have to pay a hired man with." "I don't want that to be pay," he said. "Then it won't be." The two teens backed off, still clasped together, as their mother welded her lips to AJ's again. Both of them were worked up, and the first thing they did was try one of those long kisses. Frank's hands were all over her and she didn't try to stop him when his fingers went to the buttons of her dress. He'd just gotten both nipples wet and swollen by sucking them when they heard their mother call out. "CHILDREN?" she yelled into the darkness. "YOU CAN COME BACK NOW." "Ohhhhhh," groaned Becky as Frank's lips left her engorged nubs. "I don't want to stop yet." "Me either," panted Frank. "But we have to or she'll come looking for us," complained his sister. "We can wait until they're asleep and come back out here," he suggested. "Like we did last night." "All right," she sighed. "I can't wait." ------- She did wait, though. Both of them did, lying on the crackling hay, horny out of their minds, until they heard two different slow breathing patterns. Neither adult woke as they slipped outside again. This time Frank didn't have to suggest that she take her dress off. She was naked before he was. Then there was a frenzy of kissing and their hands went to the places each knew the other wanted, rubbing and squeezing. They were in too much of a hurry even to find a place to lie down. It was frustrating for Frank, because his sister's half squat as her knees spread to give him room, and her thrusting hips against his fingers seemed to make it impossible for her to stroke him just right. She, on the other hand, was moaning piteously as his fingers brought the feeling closer and closer until it was suddenly there and she felt like her body might fly apart. Her knees felt so weak that she abandoned his willy and hung onto his shoulders with both of her hands. With a small moan of frustration, his own hand flashed down and quickly finished what she'd started. His hand bumped the hair between her legs, and twice one of his knuckles impacted her pussy lips. The tip of his cock brushed that area too, and was only an inch away when, with a groan, he painted her flushed pussy lips with five strong spurts of heavy, thick semen. They were kissing again when her hand went to rub all that warm stuff around the bump that loved to be rubbed. Curiously, one white-coated finger explored between her pussy lips, sliding in until she felt what she thought was as far as she could go. She pushed harder and felt pain, before pulling her finger back out. As they crept back into the house and lay back down, Becky still didn't know how AJ had gotten his willy all the way inside her mother. As she drifted off to sleep she decided that maybe the hole got deeper as you got older. ------- AJ woke early, as usual. His movements woke Bella and she got up too. He got the fire going in the fireplace, sweeping the cold ashes to one side and building a cook fire. As she bent over to slice bacon into the cast iron pan he slid one hand over her backside, but left it at that. Becky was up next and, as usual, Frank resisted waking up. Eventually the smell of bacon and the muted conversation of the others got him out of the supine position. While they were eating AJ told them about Wichita. "If we're going to stay here, you all need to call me something besides AJ," he said. "That name can't be used any more." "What should we call you?" asked Frank. "Julian," said Bella. AJ winced. "It's not so bad," she chided. "I like it," said Becky. "So we're going to stay here?" asked Frank. His mother nodded. "Can we gather more strays?" It was clear he was taking his new status as a "cowboy" seriously. "We'll have to," said AJ. "Right now it's the only source of cash money we have. We need to get as many as we can and then sell them somewhere before the snows get here. We might be able to keep one or two here, through the winter, but only if we can protect them from the cold and keep them close." "Why would we want them during the winter?" asked Frank. "Food," said AJ. "Oh yeah." Frank felt foolish for not having thought of that. "The garden has to go in right away," said Bella. "That's the first thing on the list," AJ agreed. ------- In fact, the first thing on the list was getting the wagon into the dip and parking it by the house. That freed up the oxen to pull the plow. It was almost noon by the time AJ had figured out a way to use the wagon traces to hook the oxen to the plow. Getting the plow someplace other than it was would be a chore, so AJ decided to just start there. It took another half hour before he got the hang of digging the plow in just right. If it was too deep, the handles pulled up harder than he could resist and the plow flopped upside down and backwards. The oxen, used to pulling steadily, wouldn't stop in time to avoid that. It took five minutes to get everything ready to try again. On the other hand, if the plow was too shallow, it skimmed along, bumping and causing AJ to have to run. He tripped twice, and had to chase the oxen, which just kept going. That just left a scar in the root system of the prairie grass too, rather than turning over real dirt. It would be a week before AJ figured out that only one beast was really needed for pulling the plow, and that it was much easier to handle one than the pair hitched together. Meanwhile, Bella started unloading the wagon. The children helped with the heavy things, and complained when Bella kept changing her mind about where, inside the house, things should be stored. By late afternoon AJ had plowed up a pitifully small area that was full of thick chunks of sod, not to mention the flint rocks that seemed to be everywhere. It took him a day and a half, with everyone carrying sod and rocks away, before he had a patch of earth exposed that was suitable for planting. The new garden was only thirty feet long, and ten feet wide. "The planting will wait until after we eat," announced Bella, who had one hand in the middle of her back, which ached from the unaccustomed work of bending over so much. "I'm filthy," moaned Becky, looking at her dirt-stained hands. She was wearing an old dress today, and it was stained as well. "Planting will get you just as dirty," said her mother. It did too. The plowed ground still had to be broken up into finer pieces. That was done with shovel and hands. Using the instructions written on the packets of seed, Bella planted rows of onions, radishes, broccoli, lettuce and spinach, which would all mature and could be harvested in about a month. She tried to gauge how much they'd need before the cold killed the plants. She didn't want to waste any seed. Next she planted carrots, leeks, turnips, cabbages and cauliflower, which took two months to mature. They would be harvested just before the snows came and made to last as long as possible. Some could even be left in the ground until spring, and would be dug up then, replacing them with new seeds. She planted the herbs at one end of the garden. They'd be taller and, unless the snow was very deep, could be collected even after the cold weather reached them. The seeds that took three months to mature would have to wait until the spring. The packets of Rutabaga, Brussels sprouts and asparagus were set aside, along with all the remaining seeds. The light was failing when they got finished. "Baths!" announced Bella as she stood up wearily. What might have seemed an odd thing, if Bella hadn't been too tired to notice it, was that neither of her children seemed to be shy at all about taking a communal bath. They splashed happily in the pond, in fact, unconcerned about their mutual nudity. Their mother was distracted further when AJ came up behind her and started rubbing her shoulders. "Ohhhh that feels divine," she moaned. He faced them away from the children, so that they wouldn't see his hands finish the rubdown and wander to other areas of her body that received a different kind of massage. "They're right here in the pond," objected Bella as his hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them. Her own hand drifted back to find his hard prick. It always delighted her that she could make him this way. "They can't see anything," he said. Neither of them looked at the children. If they had, they'd have seen the two of them drifting farther and farther down the shore, putting some distance between them and the adults. By the time AJ turned Bella around, and got her to put her legs around him, supporting her weight with his hands on her waist, it was dark enough that it just looked like the children were standing and talking, fifty feet or so away. It was that distance, in fact, that released Bella's inhibitions, and let AJ slide his wonderful stiff prick into her. Doing this in the water was delightfully different. There was much more friction, since her natural lubrication was washed away by the water. It just made him have to go slower, and spend longer deep inside her. She used her feet and leg muscles to grind against him, and discovered she could flex other muscles around his hardness that made him smile widely. That turned out to be a lot of work, because he didn't want her to stop. When she fell back in the water, to ease the tension in her abdomen, he rewarded her by leaning down to suck at her nipples. While initially, it was just something that felt good to both of them, they were both amazed that a climax could be reached this way. With the extra stimulation of his suckling, and her ability to grind her clit against his pubic bone, she had a luscious, gentle orgasm. That unleashed the unconscious power of her pussy muscles, which milked him off and got her womb flooded with more of his sperm. Meanwhile, Frank and Becky were nervously stroking each other. They were afraid to kiss, even though it was hard to see the adults. "I wish we could sleep together naked," moaned Frank Jr. "That would be lovely," sighed Becky. "Am I doing it right?" he asked. "Yes," she panted. "Just a little faster, please," he huffed. Again Becky came first. But she concentrated, in the middle of her pleasure, on keeping going so he wouldn't have to finish himself. His groan, a few minutes later, made her happy as she felt the thing in her hand pulse. In the almost-dark she looked for the globs of white to float up, and smiled when they did. ------- Later, in the fading light of the fire in the fireplace, Bella rolled to whisper in AJ's ear. "It would be nice if there was something between us and them to block their view." He grinned and whispered in return. "What would block the sounds? You're awful loud sometimes." She blushed and pinched his arm. "They probably know what we're doing anyway." "Yes, but that doesn't mean I want them to see us." "I'll see what I can do tomorrow." ------- Six feet away Becky had rolled to face her brother. They weren't touching each other, but he could hear her soft whisper. "I wish there was another room we could sleep in." "Me too," he mouthed, and pursed his lips in a silent kiss. ------- Chapter 18 What he did the next day was survey the wagon, which was empty now. He'd never examined one, but found that the bows that held the cover up could be removed, making it into an uncovered freight wagon. It would also lighten the rig, which could still be used to bring supplies from Wichita in good weather. They'd want to get horses to pull it, since that would hasten the trip considerably, but that was something for the future. Maybe they could trade the oxen for a pair of draft horses. He originally intended to use the wagon cover to provide Bella with her privacy. He kept the original idea, but altered it a bit as he thought of other ways to use the big piece of canvas. What he came up with was rough, but serviceable. He stood on a box and dug through the sod above the beams supporting the roof of the house. Then he tied a long pole to the roof, over which was draped the oil cloth that had covered the tools outside, making a six foot long wall of sorts. Bella and Becky were trying to mill wheat. Each had a round rock and was crushing the seeds against the bottom of a cast iron skillet. Frank Jr. had gone for a ride to look for more strays. AJ explained what he was doing as he worked. "It will be ugly, and it will cut off most of the light from the fire to that part of the house," he said. "But I think it will work." Bella surprised him by deciding that the side closest to the fire would be hers and AJ's, so that she could work on sewing at night, by the fire. The children would sleep in the dark part. Becky looked up at that point. "You know, all you had to do was just have Frank and me sleep in the wagon," she said. Her mother looked at her sharply. AJ just grinned. "You might change your mind about that when it gets cold." "We know what you do over there," said the girl. "And just how do you know?" asked her perturbed mother. Becky blushed. She'd spoken without thinking. "We talked about this before, Mamma," she said. Bella realized that what was making her so uncomfortable was that she just wasn't used to talking about such things. She wondered if other women talked to their daughters this way. It occurred to her that Becky was the right age to start thinking about men, and would need one herself before long. The thought of losing her daughter wasn't a happy thought, but she knew it had to happen some day ... if they could find a suitable man for her. That wasn't a sure thing at all, in this situation. At least Frank Jr. would be around for a few more years. And if he found a wife, she might come live here. She was thinking about so many things at once that she neglected to realize that she hadn't described the act of sex to her daughter ... only that there was a place to rub between a woman's legs. Her thoughts were interrupted by Becky. "We don't mind, Mamma," said her daughter. "We know AJ makes you happy. Why do you think we didn't mind sleeping under the wagon in the first place?" Bella's thoughts about her daughter found voice. "When we get things arranged here we'll have to see what kind of men there are around these parts," she said. "Why?" asked Becky. "You need a husband," said her mother. "No I don't!" said Becky impulsively. Bella smiled. That attitude would change when Becky spent some time with a few men ... under carefully controlled conditions, of course. "All women need a husband," said Bella, wisely. Becky had visions of some man dragging her away from her mother and brother. She could almost feel his iron grip on her wrist as she struggled to remain here, where she wanted to be. She imagined herself behind closed doors with the man, screaming like her mother had screamed. "You could have done without yours," she blurted. Bella wasn't surprised, considering what kind of husband her children knew Frank to have been. But she had found out there were better men out there. She glanced at AJ, who was watching interestedly. "I could not," she said firmly. "He gave me you and Frank Jr. You two have made everything worth it. Without him you wouldn't be here." "Oh," said Becky. "Still, I don't want a husband yet. I like it here." "Maybe we can find a man who wants to farm, and will help out here," suggested her mother. "We have too much to do to go looking," argued the girl. "Of course," said Bella. "I just want you to know I'm thinking about your future." "Let's get there first," said Becky. "Then we can worry about whether I need a husband or not." Again, Bella wasn't surprised by her daughter's reaction. It would be hard to overcome the memory of her abusive father. Becky would have to meet more men like AJ, to learn that there were good men out there, who she might be able to be happy with. She wasn't worried. They had time. ------- That afternoon AJ and Frank Jr. took the crosscut saw and went to the far side of the crescent of woods to cut down some trees for firewood and building materials. "We'll come back and haul the logs with the wagon," said AJ. "Right now I need some long thin branches. I have an idea." His idea was to build an addition onto the house, cutting more sod to clear a larger garden patch, and using it to make another wall. Eventually the roof would be sodded too, but initially he was going to use the cover from the wagon to make a roof that would protect the tools and animals during the winter. They cut four trees and stripped a dozen ten foot long limbs, bundling them together. By the time they pulled the bundle back home, travois style, it was getting dark. That night Bella had her privacy and, for the first time, could sleep with AJ naked. She may be forgiven for not realizing that privacy can work two ways, and that a simple oil cloth isn't much of an obstacle to interested prying eyes. AJ may be forgiven for not thinking that an oil cloth might pass more light than he expected. What happened was that the light from the fire created shadows cast against the oil cloth. The teens were presented with huge silhouettes of what was going on on the other side of the wall. What was going on was much more than Bella would ever have thought of, in years past. But the anticipation of the bliss she knew she would find made the last of her shyness drift away as AJ asked her to try something that a saloon girl had done once. The first time he'd licked Bella's pussy she'd been horrified, but only for a few seconds, before the waves of sensation drove that into the background. He'd done it several times since, and it was obvious he loved doing it. By now she loved having him do it as well. So when he asked her in a nervous whisper if she'd suck him, she decided that she owed it to him, at the least. His shadow, of a man lying on his back with a huge stiff phallus straining upward, and her shadow as she got on all fours, her hanging breasts magnified by the distance between her and the oil cloth, made the children's mouths drop open. When their mother's mouth obviously dropped to suck that gigantic willy, both teens covered their mouths to stifle the gasps that came from their throats. What little sound got past those blocking hands was covered by AJ's heartfelt groan of satisfaction. It took a few minutes for Bella to discover the best way to do this thing, which wasn't at all like she'd thought it might be. The feel of his skin there wasn't unpleasant in the least. Nor was there any objectionable taste. She found it fun, in fact, to play with the loose skin at the tip, using her tongue and hand to force it back. She could tell by the almost comical sounds AJ made when she did something he really liked, so she didn't actually have to ask what to do. While it didn't necessarily come naturally to her, it wasn't that hard to learn either. She found that saliva collected in her mouth, and needed to be swallowed, occasionally. When she took her mouth off of him to do that, she slid her hand up and down the stiff shaft, to keep his pleasure going. On the other side of the oil cloth, the teens watched breathlessly as she sucked him, and then did the same thing that Becky did to Frank Jr. with her hand. It made Becky feel peculiarly proud that she'd learned to do that all by herself, and confirmed that it was the right way to handle that task. Bella was quite sure she was doing it perfectly, in fact, and astonished to feel proud of herself, when his hands pushed her off of him and in a harsh whisper he said "Stop!" She looked at him questioningly, and saw the look in his eyes that told her it was time to be on her back, with her legs spread. She did so and the huge shadows performed the dance that no longer seemed strange to Becky and Frank Jr., other than that it was giants who were doing it this time. They'd seen this part before, and it wasn't as fascinating as what had come just before it. Frank's hands went to his sister's body and, within seconds, they were using the privacy their mother had instigated to kiss while they rubbed each other furiously. The only hard part was keeping from making the same kinds of sounds that were coming from the other side of the oil cloth. ------- Even with the help of Bella and Becky it took them almost two days to cut and stack the sod for the stable, but only a couple of hours to put the roof in place. AJ wanted to use the wagon cover because he hadn't figured out yet how to arrange the poles to hold up a thick layer of sod. The canvas was held tightly in place by stacking sod on top of it where it touched the roof of the house, and again where it was draped over the new wall. Bella announced she was going to celebrate by taking a nap, and said that AJ looked tired out too. She pulled him into the house, reminding the children not to bother them while they "rested." Frank and Becky, hot and sweaty from the work, promptly stripped down and hopped into the pond. It wasn't long before they were face to face. Frank's willy was hard, of course. Because she now knew what "having sex" really was, Becky no longer resisted letting him slide his willy between her legs as they kissed. That led to the need to rub, and she pulled him to the shore so they could lie down and be comfortable. She could rub him better if he was lying down anyway. She was the first to lie back. Knowing how much he loved looking at her, she spread her legs. He did look, and licked his lips. "Can I do what AJ did to Mamma?" he asked. Becky's first thought was AJ's butt, rising and falling. "We can't have real sex," she gasped. "No," said Frank. "I mean ... you know ... how he licks her down there." "You want to lick me?" She didn't know how to feel about that. Watching it had been exciting, but also disturbing. "I think so," he said. "AJ does it, and Mamma seems to like it a lot." Becky stared at him. "Just a little," she whispered. That changed instantly, the first time she felt him slide his tongue between her lower lips. All the tension, and worry and nervousness fled as she found out why her mother liked to have this happen. Just that one long swipe of her brother's tongue converted her. Her head, already up to watch as he did it, fell to the soft grass and her knees, which had been tense and up, flopped sideways loosely. "Do it again," she sighed. That was followed by "Keep going!" and eventually "Oh Frank, don't EVER stop!" Frank found that she didn't taste strange, or bad, or any of the other half-formed thoughts that had worried him. If anything, the tangy flavor was a treat. It wasn't like candy. In fact, it wasn't like anything he'd ever tasted, but it was still good. He stretched out so that he could rub his stiff willy against the grass. The tip of his tongue slid over the bump she loved to have rubbed so much, and instinct told him to pay it some oral attention. When he sucked at it, her knees came up, slamming into the sides of his head and suddenly he couldn't hear anything. Then they flopped back as her hips arched off the ground. Her fingers found his hair and pulled hard. The taste increased and he heard sloshing sounds as she got even wetter. Then he heard that special moan as her body seemed to vibrate, and he knew he'd done it right. Finally her hands pushed at his head instead of pulling, and he got to his knees. She lay there limp, in front of him, her eyes closed, and he watched her breasts rise and fall rapidly. He looked at where he'd been licking and sucking, and saw the lips parted, and the darkness behind them. His mother had a hole there like that. It was where AJ put his willy. To his credit he didn't think about putting his own willy there, but he couldn't resist exploring this mysterious place. He almost casually reached and, inserted the tip of his index finger in the hole. He pushed, and felt resistance. Becky's body reacted automatically. Her hips thrust up and, in the space of one second, his finger was buried in her. There was a sharp stinging pain and her body reacted automatically again by trying to get away from that pain. Her abdominal muscles flexed and she sat up, while her hands went back to support her. That let her move her loins away from the pain. She looked between her legs at his finger, which was stained red. He hadn't even had time to react to her movements. "That HURT!" she yipped. Then "I'm BLEEDING!" Her voice was scared as she saw a pale red drop of liquid appear from her body, making a suspended drip at the lower juncture of her nether lips. "I'm sorry!" he said, staring at his finger. "I didn't know! I just wanted to see if you had a hole there, like Mamma!" "What do I do?" she asked, anxiously. The pain had dulled to the point that she didn't think she was seriously hurt, but the blood scared her. "That's not my normal monthly. I can't just go show Mamma!" "How can he put it in her and it not bleed?" asked Frank curiously. "What do I DO?" she wailed. "It doesn't look like it's still bleeding," he said. "Maybe I just nicked you with my fingernail or something." "Well don't do that again!" she gasped. "I SAID I was sorry!" he said. "You liked the other part, though ... right?" "Yes," she admitted. "But not if it's going to make me bleed." "It wasn't the licking that did that. It was my finger. I won't do that any more." "Good," she said. She noticed his willy was soft. "What happened to your willy?" she asked. "Did you rub it while you were licking me?" "No," he said, sounding surprised. He looked down. "I guess it got soft when I thought I'd hurt you." "You DID hurt me," she pointed out. "I guess it doesn't like it when I hurt you," he said. "That's wonderful," she said instantly. "Why?" he asked. "What if it won't ever get hard again?" "It means you're not like Pappa was," she said. "He took Mamma to the bedroom and hurt her a lot in there." "Oh ... yeah," said Frank. "I hope it will get hard again, though." "Lie down," she ordered, getting up. "Let me play with it a little." Within a minute, to his immense relief, his willy was standing proud again. Becky set about getting it to squirt and he lay back, glad that she wasn't still mad at him for hurting her. He felt it coming, but didn't say anything. She was used to it squirting now, and she was getting better at making it do that. Becky watched as her hand slid rapidly up and down. The image of the giant shadows from the night before came into her mind. Her mother had sucked on AJ's willy. He had obviously liked it. And Frank Jr. had just sucked her bump, giving her a different, but just as good kind of special feeling. She wondered what Frank Jr.'s willy would taste like. She moved the loose skin back to expose the shiny knob underneath, and tentatively lowered her head, her lips opening. She closed them around the knob and gave an experimental suck. Frank's head popped up off the grass and his jaw dropped as he saw why there was suddenly heat around the tip of his willy. The bag that held his balls gave a sudden lurch and the soothing feeling burst through his willy. Becky realized what was happening when her mouth was suddenly full of hot, slippery stuff. She hadn't planned on that, and she sat back on her calves, spitting wildly. By the time her brain registered the taste that was a mixture of bitter and somehow sweet at the same time, there was nothing left in her mouth. She looked down to see two more spurts jet from the tip of his now leaning willy, and licked her lips. It wasn't awful at all! "Sorry!" he gasped, his eyes wide. "I didn't know you was going to do that!" "It's all right," she said, reaching to finish her job by milking his shrinking organ. "It wasn't so bad." ------- Becky and Frank Jr. lay quietly, in each other's arms, waiting for what they were sure would take place on the other side of the wall. When the giant forms appeared, though, they looked spooky somehow. Frank rolled and lay flat on his stomach. He reached to lift the bottom of the oil cloth, until he could see directly. Becky lay next to him and did the same thing. They learned about what, someday, would be called "sixty-nine," when AJ manipulated their mother into position, with her on top of him. It went on so long that they almost stopped watching, eager to get to their own release, but then AJ made her stop. She lay down on her back and spread her legs as he got to his knees. They watched as she reached with her fingers and spread her bigger, floppier lips wide apart, exposing the hole between them. AJ fisted his willy and crawled into position, dipping the tip into the hole. He pushed it in easily ... and the sounds that would cover their own activities began. ------- Chapter 19 The next day AJ announced that he and Frank Jr. would explore the range around them, making a concerted effort to gather more stray cows into their little herd. The women were left to do whatever was needed while the men were gone. AJ got Bella's rifle and put it in the scabbard on Frank's horse. They might hunt while they were out too. As they left Frank felt like a real man for the first time in his life. Ten hours later he wasn't sure being a real man was worth the effort. His butt hurt like fire, and he was sure he was going to fall off the horse because he was too tired to hold on any more. At least they were walking now, slowly moving eight steers toward home. Only two of them had the same brand on them, and most of them had resisted being herded. Some had resisted hard, charging the horses. Frank had found out how valuable a good cow pony was. All he had to do was stay in the saddle, for the most part. There was some yelling and swinging of his coiled lariat, but other than that it was just staying off the ground. He saw the crescent of forest that meant home and almost cried with relief. The insides of his legs were raw too, but he hadn't said anything to AJ. He was trying to be a man. When they rode into the depression, and the eight steers almost joyously joined the rest of the herd, AJ found out what kind of shape the boy was in when Frank tried to step down from his horse and fell instead, moaning piteously. Bella had heard them ride in, and gone out to watch. She ran to her son, getting there about the same time as AJ did. "I forgot how much this can take out of a greenhorn," said AJ. They got the boy to his feet, but he walked excessively bowlegged, and had to have help getting into the house. Becky, who had been chopping vegetables for stew, left off of that and hovered around them. "We need to get his pants off," said AJ. "Do you have any salve?" "I'll get it," said Bella. She got up and started digging through a pile of things in one corner. By the time she returned with a jar AJ had wrestled Frank's pants off. The boy resisted, insisting he was fine, but didn't have the strength to resist successfully, especially when Becky started helping AJ. Bella's eyes took in the flaming red skin on the inside of Frank's thighs and she clucked her tongue. She knelt between his legs and untied the string that kept the cloth top on the jar of salve. Dipping her fingers inside she pulled some out, warned Frank that this might sting, and then smoothed it onto the inside of his left thigh. He hissed, but that was all. She did the other side and he made no noise at all. Going back and forth she rubbed it in and was amused to see his penis stiffen as the stuff began to dull the pain. "Sorry," he said. His eyes flitted to his sister, who was standing there watching. "Don't stare," said Bella. "You'll embarrass him." "Oh!" said Becky, who looked suddenly disconcerted. She turned around quickly. Bella looked back at Frank, who had a funny look on his face. "Don't worry about it," she said. "It's normal for that to happen." "Happens to me all the time," said AJ, grinning. Bella slapped at him, but said nothing else. Finally she finished and leaned back. "Don't wear pants for the rest of the night. They'll just irritate the skin." Frank was smart enough to think of the obvious. "What about Becky?" he asked. "We'll cover you with a blanket," said his mother. That would have been the end of it, had it stopped there. Frank was told to just lie there and let the salve work. The rest of them went on about the evening tasks. But, when it was bedtime, and Bella went to put another coat of salve on him, she found out about the shadows the fire cast on the oil cloth. She looked up to see AJ hand a bowl that had been used for supper to Becky, who was washing the dishes in the Dutch oven. The clarity of what was happening was remarkable. It was when AJ, preparing for bed, took his shirt off that she realized what her children had been able to see these nights past. She looked down at Frank. He had another erection. "You've seen our shadows," she whispered. He looked scared. "You have!" she said firmly. "Maybe a little," he admitted weakly. "A little?" Her voice went up. She remembered the things they'd done since she'd had "privacy" and her face flamed, unseen in the dark of the enclosure. She called to AJ. Both he and Becky came to see what was wrong. "AJ, you stay here," ordered Bella. "Becky, you go over on the other side of this wall and take your dress off." "What?" Becky's voice squeaked. "Why, Mamma?" "Just do it!" snapped her mother. "AJ will stay here." AJ looked at her face in the almost dark. "Just wait," she said. "You'll understand in a minute." Becky was so addled by her mother's instructions that she didn't think about the shadows. She unbuttoned her dress and slowly slid it down off her shoulders. On the other side of the wall, Bella softly said "Look," to AJ. He looked to see the silhouette of Becky's naked body come into view as the black rumple of the cloth that was her dress was pushed down. He looked back at Bella. "They've been able to see everything we did," she said. "Oh," he said weakly. Somehow that didn't make him feel as bad as he thought it should. After all, they both had to learn some day, and it appeared as if Frank wouldn't have to have a whore teach him, like AJ had. "You can put your dress back on now," Bella called through the wall. "Momma! What is going on?" moaned Becky. It was as she bent over to pull her dress back up that it clicked in her mind. Hastily she turned away from the wall and pulled the dress up over her shoulders. She buttoned it quickly. She was blushing brightly when her mother and AJ came around the wall into the fire light. "You and your brother have been watching us at night," she accused. "We couldn't help it, Mamma," moaned the girl. "It was just there." "You could have said something," said her disturbed mother. "What could we have said," asked Becky, who thought this was very unfair. It made her mad that her mother was blaming her for being able to see. She conveniently forgot that she knew she and her brother weren't supposed to watch. "I see you having sex with AJ, Mamma," she said loudly. Her anger surged. "It looks like fun, Mamma!" she finished. AJ snorted and tried to hide the grin on his face. Bella glared at him, but returned her attention to her daughter. "You're too young to be seeing things like that!" she barked. "Weren't you just saying how I need a husband?" argued Becky. "Isn't my husband going to want to do all those things to me?" "That's different!" Bella almost yelled. "Hang on here," said AJ. Both women looked at him. "I don't see any need for there to be any yelling. I've said it before. They'll both have to learn about such things sooner or later. I didn't even know what to do the first time I done it. It's not that bad a thing, when you think about it." "You think it's not so bad that my children watch me suck on your..." Bella's voice chopped off and she paled. She suddenly turned and ran out the door into the night. "I'll go talk to her," said AJ. "You wait here." "Where else would I wait?" snapped Becky. ------- He found her by the sound of her moans. She was almost beside herself with shame. He didn't think there was anything that he could say that wouldn't get him yelled at, so he just stood beside her. "They saw EVERYTHING!" she moaned. "I reckon they did," he admitted. "And they WATCHED US!" she whined. "Knowing what we were doing they WATCHED US!" She wrung her hands. He was silent for a while, and then thought of something. "You know what Becky told me one time?" he asked. "What?" she moaned. "They used to hear it ... when Frank hurt you." "I knew that," she said. "I was ashamed then too." "Why?" he asked. "Are children never supposed to know what goes on in a bedroom?" "Not when a man is making his wife scream in pain!" She sobbed, and that let him pull her to him. She gripped him tightly around the waist. "They didn't ever see it, though," he suggested. "They saw him slap me around," she sobbed. "They saw him knock me down on the floor and then pull me up by my hair only to knock me down again." She was crying openly now. AJ bit his tongue. He wished he'd shot the man himself about now. He tried to concentrate on what he'd thought of when he started talking. "They didn't see anything like that through that oil cloth," he said softly. "They didn't see ... or hear ... any pain at all." Her head whirled, her tear-filled eyes wide open. Her sobbing stopped and she held her breath. "They saw two people, loving each other," he went on. "They saw how it SHOULD be ... and not how it was when they heard those screams. Can you blame them for wanting to see that?" He squeezed her. "They're both old enough to know what it should be like. Frank needs to know how to treat a woman, and Becky needs to know it's not all fists and screams that lay in wait for her." He'd offered Bella a way out, of sorts. It was bizarre, but it let her look at things in a way that didn't seem so crazy. It gave her hope that this could be turned into something that, whie it would admittedly require some stretching of things, might be positive. ------- It was too big a change to simply accept easily, but when Bella walked back into the house, she simply looked at her children and said "Go to sleep. We'll talk about this tomorrow." She was in no mood for sex, which didn't surprise AJ at all. He did kiss her, but then left her alone. On the other side of the wall things were pretty much the same. Frank's erection had subsided on its own, and Becky was terrified that her mother would find out that they had not only watched ... but had emulated what they'd seen as well. Sleep came to them all, but slowly. ------- The next morning AJ suggested it was a good day for Frank and him to go get the logs they'd cut. They hitched the oxen back up to the wagon and drove it off. Bella told Becky that they'd gather as much of the wheat and corn seed as they could so that it could either be used as food or planted next year. ------- They had worked in an uneasy silence for an hour when Bella finally spoke. "You did watch us." Becky knew it was no use lying. "Yes." "Every night?" "Yes." "Why?" Becky sighed. That was a hard question to answer, but since her mother wasn't yelling any more she was willing to try. "We knew we shouldn't," she said. "But all that was so mysterious ... and interesting. I guess we were just curious about what went on." "How did it make you feel?" asked Bella, who was afraid that her children though her a whore. "Feel?" Becky knew she shouldn't say that it had made her want to do the same things, particularly not with Frank Jr., but she didn't know what else to say. "About me," asked Bella, waiting for the pain to come. "I was glad," said Becky promptly. Bella's head whipped around, her mouth open. "Glad?" she asked. "It was scary until AJ came along," said Becky. "We didn't know what was happening when Pappa took you to the bedroom, but we knew you didn't like it. It was scary. And then one night when Pappa was drunk he said he was going to do the same thing to me ... whatever that was ... and I got even more scared." "I'm sorry about that," said Bella impulsively. Becky ignored her and finished. "But what you and AJ do isn't scary," she said. "I know you like it ... WE know you like it. It isn't anything like what I thought it would be. It looks so much better." Bella was slightly stunned. AJ had been right. She hadn't warped her children, and they didn't think she was a whore. She felt relief almost rob her of the ability to stand. "Mamma?" "What, dear?" asked Bella. "Why is it wrong to watch?" Her first instinct was to say "It's just wrong!" but she held her tongue and thought about it. She'd assumed so many things that had turned out wrong. On this delicate subject, she didn't want to make the same mistake. Then, as she thought about it more, she realized that it wasn't as black and white as she'd always thought of it. "Well," she said finally. "Most folks think of that as a very private thing. They think that children shouldn't see it, because children won't be doing it, I suppose. But the fact is that all children grow up to do such things. I guess I'd have to say it all depends on who's being watched, but most parents wouldn't want their children to see it." "I think it looks beautiful," sighed her daughter. The burst of emotion, as she realized Frank hadn't ruined their little girl like he'd almost ruined her, made it impossible for her to speak for a few minutes. Again she was amazed how a simple cowboy, sticking his nose in other people's business, could change the world in such a wonderful way. "But we have to stop ... don't we," said Becky. There was clearly disappointment in her voice. Again, Bella's first instinct was to say "Of course you have to stop!" and again she bit that back. Why DID they have to stop? If Frank Jr. was handling this as well as Becky was ... what was the harm? In fact, if AJ was right - and it appeared he was - then perhaps it was something actually good! "We'll see," she said softly. ------- Chapter 20 Once Frank had learned the rhythm of the saw, it was just a matter of being patient as the teeth worked their way slowly through the wood. It wasn't interesting work, and it took enough breath that there was little left for talking, but they did carry on a conversation of sorts. It was remarkably like that being had between the women. "So you've been peeking at the real thing," said AJ. Frank flushed. "Couldn't help it." "Can't really blame you," said AJ. "You're not mad?" asked Frank. "Naw. It put a burr under your mother's saddle, though. Women are touchy about things like that." "Think she'll get over it?" "Don't know," admitted AJ. "Mebbe." "I'm glad you do it," said Frank. "That a fact?" "Pappa used to hurt her so bad. You don't do that." "Man shouldn't ever hurt a woman. It ain't proper." "He done it anyway," said Frank. "Not any more," said AJ, a little callously. It still made him mad to think of a man beating on Bella. "I'm glad he's dead," said the dead man's son. "You mentioned that before," AJ responded. "And I believe I said it shouldn't be that way." "Can't help that either," said Frank. "Seeing you has taught me how a man should treat a woman. Before this all I knew was that to make a woman do what you wanted, you had to knock her around." "I'm glad you learned it, then," said AJ. "Me too." The log fell apart and they grunted to lift the five foot long piece into the wagon. Then they started on another cut. There was no more conversation until the saw blade had cut it's own width in the log and was riding in the groove smoothly. "Guess we can't watch no more, huh." said Frank. "Be surprised if she let you," laughed AJ. "What about you?" asked the boy. "I suppose it don't bother me all that much," said AJ. "Might get you fired up, though, if it hasn't already." "Yeah," admitted Frank. "And then you got to do something about it," said AJ. "Yeah," said Frank. "So that means you know what to do?" "Yeah," said Frank a third time. "What about your sister?" The saw came to a grinding halt as Frank Jr. lost the rhythm. There was a look of guilt on his face. AJ peered at him through narrowed eyes. "Don't tell me you been foolin' around with your own sister." Frank swallowed. "All right ... I won't." "Oh damn," sighed AJ. The fact that the boy hadn't blown his lid at the accusation told AJ more than if the boy hadn't said a word. "We ain't done nothing real bad!" objected Frank. "Do you really think your Mamma will see things that way? Or anybody else for that matter?" Frank Jr. slumped. "I reckon not." AJ didn't know what to say. He pulled the saw and stared at Frank, who pulled it back. They got the rhythm going again. Eventually curiosity got the better of AJ. "How much have you done?" he asked. He wondered if the boy would blow up at such a personal question. Had anybody but AJ have asked it, he might have. "Not everything," he said warily. "We done some kissing and touching." "Like I kiss and touch your mother?" AJ almost lost the rhythm himself just then, but managed to keep his end of the saw going. "Somewhat," said Frank stiffly. "Don't you go making a baby in your sister, boy!" said AJ, feeling panic in his gut. It had just occurred to him that he had information their mother needed to know ... but he had no idea of how to break it to her. It could tear the whole family apart. "Of course I won't!" gasped Frank. "We don't do that part. I would never do that!" "What DO you do?" asked AJ. Gone was his reluctance to pry. "We just rub each other, AJ, and that does the trick," complained the boy. "She rubs me until it squirts, and I rub her until she gets all wiggly and says to stop." "Damn!" sighed AJ. He had a vision of that sweet young thing, naked, all wiggly while being rubbed. He felt his groin react, and pushed the thought away. "We're not hurting anything," moaned Frank. It was at that point that AJ's own relative inexperience with women came into play. When he'd stolen those few kisses from the girls back home, there hadn't been any real thought of what that naturally led to. It had all been a mystery back then, but a delightfully scary one to investigate. Since then, before meeting Bella (and after that too, when one thinks of it) there had never been a time when they petted, got excited, and then had to stop. Not really. So the fact of the matter was that AJ didn't actually know how hard it might be to stop, right in the middle of things. "I don't think your Mamma would see it that way," said AJ again. Frank looked like he was going to cry. "We have to stop, don't we?" he moaned. "I reckon you should," said AJ. "You gonna tell Mamma about this?" Frank asked. "I don't rightly know," sighed AJ. ------- The men were back with a wagonload of logs by noon. They were offloaded beside the stable, where they could be cut up into smaller pieces and then split for later use in the winter. They wouldn't be cured by then, and would make a lot of smoke when they burned, but there wasn't anything AJ could do about that. Bella and Becky had gathered the equivalent of four bushels of grain, but had put it all in two sacks that turned out to be too heavy for them to carry back to the house. AJ and Frank Jr. went to get them while the meal finished cooking. There wasn't much conversation as they ate, but there was a lot of thinking going on. When the dishes had been gathered up Bella said she wanted to survey the grain plot with AJ. She told the children to gather more wood. It was a tedious task, but both knew it had to be done, and neither complained. Once up in the field, it became obvious that Bella was more interested in talking than in surveying anything. She told him how the discussion had gone between her and Becky. In the process she said he was right, and thanked him for helping her see things that way. That made it pretty difficult for AJ to tell her what had been said at the wood cutting site. He was sure she'd be devastated, and her now upbeat attitude would vanish like smoke in the wind. And he had nothing to tell her that might help her see a sexual relationship between her children in a positive light. So he kept his mouth shut. Bella then turned to looking at the field and asking him questions about what it would take to grow enough grain there to make a cash crop. ------- Where bits and pieces (and the whole conversation between AJ and Frank) had been left out of the confab between the adults, the teens had repeated every word they could remember that had been said. Both knew that their "game" might come to a screeching halt at any moment. Becky was worried that her mother might put her in the wagon and drive straight to Wichita, where she would walk around, dragging her daughter behind her, asking if there were any single men in town who needed a wife. The thought of some other man putting his hands on Becky made Frank seethe and, congruent with their tender ages, they talked of running away together. That decision was set aside, for the moment, to see what happened. While they talked, and plotted, Frank Jr. put into practice an idea he'd gotten from AJ's earlier use of the horse to drag branches back to make the ceiling of the stable with. They bundled up pieces of dead wood and he let his horse drag them back to the house. As such, after two trips, both felt like they'd done their share of wood gathering for the day. Both were anxious about the future. Both knew that their mother and AJ were up in the field, most likely talking about them, and they decided to go see which way the wind was blowing. Together, hand in hand, they trudged up the hill. As their heads broke the rim of the dip, the two youths stopped, and ducked back down instinctively. The tall grass made it difficult to see clearly, but what could be seen was interesting. Their mother was on her knees in front of AJ, whose pants were down around his thighs. Her face was bobbing back and forth as she held his stiff willy in her hand. He had his hands on his hips, which were jutted forward. He was looking up at the sky. It was a decidedly funny sight, a semi-dressed cowboy, hat firmly on his head, with a woman sucking on him like a calf might suck at it's mother. His hands left his hips and went to clasp behind his head under the brim of his hat as he let out a groan they could clearly hear from where they were hiding. Their mother's mouth never left his hard shaft, until she finally pulled off and wiped her mouth with the back of one hand. AJ's formerly hard willy hung down, limp and spent, as their mother stood up. "He spurted and she swallowed it!" gasped Frank Jr. Becky found herself licking her lips, remembering her brother's taste. Had she seen this before she'd tasted his cream, she might have been horrified. But now all she did was lick her lips. ------- They changed their minds about which way the wind was blowing and decided to go get one more bundle of wood. Both were thinking about what they'd just seen, and both were afraid that the things they so loved to do would be taken from them. They might only have this one last chance to share their love. Deep in the woods, with the horse cropping contentedly at the few available tufts of tender grass, Becky sank to her knees and bared her brother's willy. It was decidedly stiff, and she thrilled, as usual, that she could do this to him. Again she emulated her mother's behavior, and sucked and rubbed until she felt the warm gushes into her mouth. As she swallowed, a new taste registered. It was a hint of salt, something rare and valuable on the frontier. The thought that she could taste salt whenever she wanted ... if they were allowed ... made her suck all that much harder, to get every drop. Frank Jr. knowing what to expect this time, luxuriated in the feel of her hot, wet mouth on his willy. Spurting was almost ridiculously simple this way and he too thought about how wonderful it would be to be able to do this at a whim. He then set about repaying her, by raising her dress. She couldn't lie down on the rough ground, so he just let the dress fall down his back and sat between her wide spread thighs, facing upwards, while he sucked her bump. He didn't put his finger in her, because he'd promised. But his tongue flicked to that hole. She hunched down when he did so, so he did it again, until he had as much of his tongue in there as he could get. She about smothered him, but she got what he was trying to give her. ------- When they brought in the last load of dead wood AJ was waiting for them. He had Bella's bow saw out and ready, and told Frank to work with him to cut up the limbs they'd brought in. Ten minutes into the work AJ looked at the boy and said: "You have to promise me you won't do anything more than what you've already done with your sister." "I promise," said Frank, and he meant it. "You won't put it in her." AJ's voice was heavy. "I'd never do that," said Frank Jr. "And she wouldn't let me even if I tried." "All right then," said AJ. In the next two hours as they cut and stacked the wood, neither of them said another word. ------- Bella waited until after supper, and cleanup and then told her children to sit down. "I'm not sure what to think," she said. "Something tells me I shouldn't do this, but what I've found with AJ is precious to me." Both teens held their breath, expecting the worst. "I know we're acting married, even though we aren't," she went on, "and I'm not going to stop it." That wasn't quite the worst they'd expected. "From now on we're going to put the fire out at night," she said. "Now I know you two will still hear things, but that's our business, and not yours. You already know AJ never hurts me, and what we do is of no concern to you. I will," she blushed at this point, "try not to make so much noise." This wasn't anything close to the worst they'd expected. It occurred to both of them that maybe AJ hadn't said anything to their mother. Becky was the first to speak. "Mamma, we already said that we think it's a fine thing that AJ treats you so good." AJ, standing a few feet away felt a knot forming in his stomach, but he simply glared at Frank Jr., who glanced at him, saw the stare and slid his finger in a cross motion over his heart. AJ relaxed enough to say "Would you all please start calling me Julian?" ------- That night, and for many nights that followed, Becky and Frank Jr. lay on one side of the oil cloth, kissing and cuddling quietly while their mother made undiminished sounds from the other side. Julian, as they finally remembered to start addressing him, was a bit quieter, but they could always tell when he spurted. There were long days of work in the garden and out on the range as, over time, the men found and added twelve more strays to their herd. With two dozen head, Julian thought about driving them to Wichita to see if he could sell them, but the mixed brands bothered him. The last thing he needed was for that sheriff in town to get nasty about something like that. And so it was decided that a trip to Wichita for all of them was in order, before the weather got worse. It was late September by then, though they didn't know the exact day, and Bella decided that this was as good a time as any to get supplies for the winter. Julian hitched up the wagon to the oxen, which had gotten fat standing around just eating all day long. He didn't feel bad about telling Bella she could trot a few pounds off of them if she could get them moving that fast. Because of the oxen's slow gait, they started early in the morning, before sunrise. The men rode their horses, while Bella and Becky sat on the bouncing seat of the wagon. They got to town late, and Julian got the women a room in the same hotel he'd stayed in. Rather than spend money at the livery stable, he and Frank Jr. slept in the wagon on bedrolls, their horses tied alongside. The plan was to get what they needed the next day, and start back. They'd probably have to spend the next night on the trail, unless he could make a trade for two good horses. The next morning Bella splurged on breakfast for them all. Flapjacks and coffee were a big hit. The stable master wasn't interested in oxen, but referred Julian to the general store. He was recognized by the storekeeper's wife, who told him now nice it was to see him again. The first time they'd met he hadn't given a name. This time he introduced himself as Julian and then introduced Arabella, without identifying their relationship. The teens, whose attention was firmly on the penny candy display, were left unidentified. Bella and Becky were wearing the dresses he'd bought them in this very store. There were obvious questions on the woman's face as she surveyed this odd couple, but they went unasked. She took Julian to her husband and then set about bustling through the store with Bella, filling her order. Julian got right to the point. The storekeeper did have a pair of draft horses. He'd taken them in trade for goods two months earlier and had been unhappy at the amount they ate ever since. To be honest, the way he saw things, he could butcher the oxen, if he couldn't sell them, which wasn't an option with the horses. He also expected that, when the railroad finally got there, Wichita might become a western kickoff point on the Santa Fe trail. There would be call for wagons, and oxen to pull them. He was only too happy to make the trade. When Julian inquired about selling some strays he'd collected, the storekeeper named a man in town who was in the cattle trade. Julian pulled Frank Jr. away from the candy counter and they spent an hour getting the oxen out of the wagon traces, and the horses into them. It called for a lot of adjustment, because the horses seemed twice as tall as the oxen had been. Once that was done, Julian left the others at the store to complete their business, while he mounted his horse to go find the cattle dealer, a man known as Custus Davidson. Based on the amount of money Bella spent, each teen was given ten cents credit. It wasn't a surprise that they spent it all on candy, which the storekeeper had known would happen. With the wagon half loaded, there was one more stop at the feed store, and where Bella negotiated with the owner both for purchases to be taken away and as a market for grain. He was most interested in oats, though he said he'd buy wheat at a lower price. They left with a bag of oat seed. If they could manage it, half would be planted before the snows came. That would give them a harvest in summer to generate badly needed cash. The rest would be planted in the spring and harvested about this time next year. When they left she felt even more optimistic about the future. Becky also felt more optimistic on the way back to what Frank Jr. now referred to as "the ranch." That was because her mother hadn't paraded her around town, announcing that she needed a husband. ------- Chapter 21 Back home, the grueling pace of work didn't let up. The horses were much easier to work with, in terms of the plow. They were used to the work, after all, and would stop immediately if given the command to do so. They were also a favorite with Becky, who named them and spent hours currying their coats and talking to them. The corn and wheat that Bella had given up trying to mill into flour went to good use, though the team seemed perfectly content with the vast quantities of grass available to them. Julian and Frank, who begged to be taught to plow, and then two days later cursed himself for insisting on it, got the whole two acres plowed, and expanded it a good distance further, leaving the huge chunks of sod to deal with in the spring. Having restocked on staples, Bella made bread every three days. Julian carefully selected flat rocks and built her a small oven on one side of the fireplace. The smoke still got through the cracks, but the bread didn't burn as easily. With so much work to be done Frank and Becky didn't have as many opportunities to slip away and deal with the urges their raging hormones created. Becky became an expert at masturbating her brother. She had never had any problem reaching the pinnacle when Frank licked and sucked her pussy, so they often ended up in a quick sixty nine to take the edge off their passions. She grew to love the taste of his spunk as it spurted warmly into her mouth. It was only slightly different at night, as Bella and Julian made those noises on the other side of the oil cloth wall. Becky usually slid her hand up and down Frank's rigid prick while they kissed. When he was ready to spurt, she scooted down to take him in her mouth and finish him off. It was much less messy that way. Then he repaid her efforts by sucking her nipples to get her inflamed, before moving his mouth to her pussy. He had to be careful, because she got so soggy that he made wet slurping noises if he didn't pay attention. Things might have stayed that way through the remainder of the fall and all winter, but for the fact that fate was about to play, yet again, a role in their lives. ------- U.S. Marshal William Bennet, up from his normal post in the Oklahoma Territory, stopped at the edge of town and dismounted to get out his coat and vest. He dusted off his pants and took a rag from his saddle bags to wipe down his boots. Once fully dressed, he put his badge securely in the watch pocket of his vest, wiped his brow with the rag, and then settled his hat back on his head. He took his spectacles off and peered through them. He was able to blow the dust off of them, and replaced them. Remounting, he rode into Wichita, Kansas, where he hoped to find a lead on herds of cows with mixed brands. Wichita wasn't much to look at, but at least they had a hotel. He'd be able to get a decent meal and something to drink that he didn't have to share with his horse. He rode straight past the jail, ignoring it. He'd learned the hard way that if the kind of information he was looking for existed at all, the local lawman wouldn't give it to him. That's because if it existed, the local lawman should have dealt with it already. And if he hadn't ... then he was likely involved, or being paid off. In his experience, if a Marshal showed up suddenly and asked the right questions of the right people, their behavior would answer his questions, even if their mouths did not. Once he got the lay of the land, he might have a talk with the sheriff, at which time the badge would be pinned to his vest, instead of hidden inside it. He was now dressed like just about any prosperous ranch owner west of Kansas City. It was for that reason that he went to the saloon first, where business was routinely conducted, and news was available. Bennet was employing a technique he had perfected. He was impersonating a cowman. Everybody knew that the railroad was coming to Wichita, and that once that happened, the herds would be driven there, instead of farther north. Any cowman worth his salt would be making the same kinds of inquiries Bennet was going to make. When he ordered his first glass of beer, he got his first contact from the bartender. He was referred to a man named Davidson, who was in the business of buying and selling cattle on the east side of town. He then took his beer and joined two men who were sitting at a table, also drinking beer. He sat down without an invite and, having correctly assumed they were ranchers, began playing the game he loved to play. Two rounds later, one of which he had bought, Bennet tipped his hat to the owners of the Crushed O and Bar-B ranches, and left with the information that the only trouble those ranches had experienced were with men who, for some insane reason, thought that there should be fences on the prairie. He also learned that the only rustling complaints they were aware of were some ninety miles to the west, where Oscar Stapleton ran the Lazy E operation. He went to see Davidson anyway, but that was just because he always mined all potential sources of information, just in case. The question that went unasked couldn't give you the lead that might break the case. He found the man sitting on the porch of the "Wichita Cattle Company," which was a one room shack surrounded by mostly empty stock pens. Davidson was a beanpole of a man with barely a strand of hair on his head who had to be at least sixty. With the exception of his shiny pale pate, his skin had the color and texture of well tanned leather. He was smoking a roll-your-own cigarette, leaning back in one chair, with his feet propped up on another. When he saw Bennet coming he reached for his hat and put it on, but didn't stand. "Howdy," he drawled. That one word communicated much more than a greeting. It marked Bennet as a stranger, for one thing. It said that Davidson was open for business, and that he was already willing to do that business with this newcomer. Bennet understood that and responded in kind, still sitting on his horse. "I own the Circle Z, in Denton County, down Texas way," he drawled. "Been driving my herds to Abilene. Lookin' to find out when I can cut some of the trail off and deliver here." Davidson examined the cut of the man's clothing, and then looked at his boots, which were well oiled. The heels of the boots were crisp, instead of rounded off. He'd get a look at his hands soon enough, but his initial impression was that this was a man who paid others to do the heavy work, instead of doing it himself. That meant he had money to spend. He stood up. "Take a light," he said, offering the chair his feet had been on. He bent over to swipe his hand ineffectually across the seat. It was the action that was important, not the efficacy of it. For the next half hour the two men talked cattle. Bennet knew cattle, because it was his job to know cattle. Davidson said that, at present, he bought smaller herds from local ranchers, consolidating them until he had enough to hire men to make a drive further north. He held out hope that the railroad might reach Wichita by the next season, but made sure he didn't promise such. He had sources of sale standing in the wings, eager to buy at what they were sure would be a lower price, since there would be less expense for the owners in transportation costs. He did everything he could to entice this man to deliver a herd to Wichita the next year. Bennet wasn't actually wasting the man's time. He would take the information gained back south with him, eventually, and the news would be disseminated to those who might profit from it. That was just part of the way news got around on the frontier. But, in the process of getting this information Bennet got the conversation to where his real interest was. "What ratio of mixed brands will you accept?" he asked casually. "In the past my men have picked up strays along the way." "Happens," agreed Davidson. "The locals find 'em too, strayed from the herds on the Chisholm. I don't start asking hard questions unless it's over three percent." "Three percent!" said Bennet, sounding shocked. "Surely you don't see herds with three percent of an off brand in them!" "Occasionally," he said Davidson carelessly. "When that happens, though, I dig a little deeper, unless it's somebody I know, of course. Take the Little P, for instance. That's a feller named Harry Hanson, and he runs a spread West of here, off the Chisholm about ten or fifteen miles. Half his herd is strays. When he comes in he might deliver two dozen brands. He sort of specializes in cleaning up the trail, so to speak." "Ever see this brand," asked Bennet, leaning over to draw a circle in the dust on the porch. He put a Z inside with the four points touching the circle. "Don't look familiar," said Davidson, who barely looked at it. Bennet knew that no matter what brand he'd drawn he'd have gotten the same response. "Three percent," sighed Bennet. "For me that would be two hundred head! I can't see a man coming up with that many strange cattle on the up and up." "It's rare," said Davidson. "The Little P is the only outfit that does that regularly. There's going to be another one, maybe, but they're just starting out. Don't even have their own brand yet." "Really?" Bennet tried to control the interest in his voice. "I didn't think there was that kind of land available up here." "Oh, he's a squatter," said Davidson. "Just met the man a week or so ago. He's gathering strays too, working farther north, from what I gathered. Says he might have a few hundred head for me if he's lucky." "Squatters!" Bennett's tone made it clear it was a curse word to him. "Ain't nobody to complain." Davidson shrugged. "Nobody's using the land. Don't even know who it belongs to, really." "Where is this man?" asked Bennet. Davidson's eyes narrowed, and Bennet realized he'd pushed too far. He'd expressed too much interest in a man who shouldn't matter to a big cattleman from Texas. "I'm likely to make one more late drive this year," said Bennet hastily. "It would be helpful to know where along the trail a little extra vigilance might be needed." Bennet had all but accused a man he'd never even met of rustling, and he knew it as Davidson closed down. He'd gotten all he was going to get in his role as a cattleman. But the lead on these two outfits, one of which was a lone man "gathering strays" needed to be followed up. He reached into his watch pocket to see what he could learn from Davidson's reactions. ------- Julian kicked dirt over the fire and poured the last of the coffee into a cup for Frank Jr., who was tying his bedroll behind his saddle. They'd been out almost a week, having done all the things at the ranch that couldn't wait until later in the year. He couldn't understand how any bunch of half decent drovers could lose this many cows on a trail drive. In four days they had gathered seventy-three head. Along with stray beeves, they had seen rotting buffalo carcasses everywhere, and Indians once, in the distance, though nothing had come from it. Seventy-three was as many as they could handle without losing some of them themselves. Every morning they'd had to regroup their little herd before continuing to find more. Julian had said that today they'd head back. The two of them could drive their small herd to Davidson's stockyards before winter. They wouldn't get as much for them, because it would soon be too late for a drive to Abilene, but at least they would be Davidson's problem then, during the winter. They kept the cattle moving steadily all day, covering what Julian estimated to be twenty-five miles. He was running weight off of them, but there would be another two weeks for them to fatten back up on the rich grass around the ranch before he had to deliver them to Wichita. The tip of the sun was just sliding below the horizon when the cattle smelled water and, without any encouragement, flowed over the rim of the depression and headed for the pond. ------- Their homecoming was emotional on a visible level, where Julian and Bella were concerned. Emotions ran just as high in Frank Jr. and Becky, though they masked it well. Frank Jr. announced he was going to go take a bath in the new bathing pool he and Julian had built by damming up the stream where it entered the pond, creating a six foot pool that was shallow, but had clean water in it. And no danger of turtles either, for which Becky was most appreciative. Becky, knowing what was probably going to take place in the house between Julian and her mother, said she'd go inspect the new cattle. She went to the bathing pool instead, of course, and within ten minutes had her legs wrapped firmly around her brother's hips while, with her lips pressed hotly to his, she rubbed her itchy pussy against his rock hard willy. Having been denied the kind of orgasms she was now used to, she was enjoying the anticipation of a really good one but was in no hurry to get there. For that reason she played with Frank Jr. much longer and much more lasciviously than she might have otherwise. Such was the role of fate in her life ... at least partially. She kissed Frank, and then sucked him until he was close, before lying back to display her naked charms to him in the dim light of the waning moon. He serviced her with his mouth, and she let him bring her close too, before stopping him to get more luscious kisses, tasting her own tang on his lips while he lay on her rubbing his willy up and down between her slippery lower lips. "I can get there this way if you keep going like that," she panted. "I want to shoot," he moaned. "Can you get there this way?" She had to take a breath in the middle of the sentence. "I don't know," he whined. "Can't you just suck it out?" "Later," she gasped. "Don't stop." It was the unintended consequence of forced abstinence that made her extend this delightful feeling, letting him rub his rampant willy against her bump for so long. The same forced abstinence had Frank Jr. ready to go from the moment he laid eyes on Becky again, and her extension of their play had him almost trembling. Part of the fate spoken of earlier was a simple stone, a piece of flint rock with a sharp edge, moved with a shovel in the manufacture of the bathing pond so it could be a foot deeper. This particular stone hadn't become part of the dam. Becky certainly hadn't meant to lie down with this stone pressing against her right kidney, but that's how fate works ... in little ways that make big differences. The big difference in this situation was that she wiggled, entirely unconsciously, to get away from the irritation to her lower back. That made Frank break the rhythm, both in speed and distance of movement, of his lusty lunges back and forth between her legs. He moved downward just an inch farther and, when he surged back upwards, the tip of his prick found her untried slippery hole. Within less than a second she was impaled, and his balls slapped against her bottom. Within the next second her brain registered that there was something wrong, and muscles she'd never used began investigating the thing that was spreading them apart. For Frank, the first thing his brain registered was heat and wet, all around the length of his willy. His only experience with that feeling involved her mouth, and his habit, interrupted by that enforced abstinence, was to squirt there. The electrical impulses his brain sent back out were simple orders. His balls bunched, and he spurted. ------- Inside the little sod house, with the fire burning for once, meaning they could see each other, Bella and AJ were doing just that. Julian's eyes took in the pear shaped globes of her breasts, with their stiff dark nipples, and licked his lips. His eyes flowed down to her narrow waist, to where her hips swelled outwards. That she wasn't some skinny saloon girl was something he'd known for a long time. The knowledge that he'd never settle for one of those skinny saloon girls bubbled to the surface of his mind. His eyes went up to her face, to the smile there that made something ooze through his prick. She was staring directly at that prick. Her hand came up to rub gently across her belly which was both flat from hard work and traced with tiny scars that proclaimed her a mother. Julian had gazed curiously at those scars in the past, but ignored them now. They melted together. There was little foreplay between them. The abstinence that had made Becky extend things had the opposite effect on these two. Julian, who'd had plenty of time to think while on the range, had decided, more or less, that he WAS in love with this woman. It didn't make a lot of sense to him, but sense wasn't the main requirement when it came to being in love. He wanted to tell her this, and he wanted to be doing his favorite thing while he said it. Bella's urgency was based on something very close to that. She had missed her monthly while he was gone. She had NEVER missed her monthly, but twice before. There had been a moment of guilt when she came to the conclusion Julian had fathered a child on her, but only because of the elation she felt as she knew she was with child. She wasn't sure how he'd take it, but right now what she wanted most in the world was the penis that had made her pregnant inside her again. In the next ten minutes each said only one full sentence. "I love you," groaned Julian Hobbs. "That's good because I'm pregnant with your baby," panted Arabella Mortenson. ------- The brain is an amazing thing. It operates at speeds that have never been matched, save by light moving from one place to the other. And it has the capacity to reflect on multiple issues at the same time, though conscious thought slows that down sometimes. As Frank felt the delicious soothing flow of his cream jetting out of his willy, his brain figured out just where his willy was. A different part of his brain, a very small part he didn't even know existed, sent more signals and his hips pressed hard, making sure that the rich cargo being delivered was deposited as close to the womb of his partner as possible. Becky's brain was also moving at light speed as it sorted out the signals it was getting. A part of her, also in the realm of the unconscious, recognized the warm wet jets for what they were and her hips lunged up to enhance the weld that would ensure that gift wasn't lost. It knew the value of that precious gift, even though her conscious mind might disagree completely. Meanwhile that conscious part of her brain signaled that an emergency was ongoing. What slowed it was the haziness of the information it had about just how dangerous that hot spurting stuff in her belly was. She knew it had something to do with babies, but that was all. She knew that her mother's body had received this same stuff from Julian many times over the last month. She knew her mother had said nothing of babies, or the fear of making one. While her conscious mind was having an endless debate concerning what to do about this emergency, her unconscious mind was screaming "YES! YES! YES!" along with "IGNORE THAT MINOR PAIN YOU FEEL. IT'S NOTHING!" That pain, now given it's opportunity to speak, tried to raise its voice, complaining about the destruction of what was left of her hymen, and the cruel stretching that was forcing her apart down there. Then the thing she thought of as "her bump" chimed in, adding its vote of "YES! YES! YES!" to the event. It didn't seem to mind at all that Frank Jr.'s pubic bone was trying to force it back into its protective sheath as he tried to get even deeper in his sister's soaked pussy. The unconscious won out. Nature demanded that mating take place, and splashed an orgasm in Becky's face to sweeten the deal. As one of her teenaged eggs loitered not far from the end of the fallopian tube it was sashaying down, Frank Jr.'s sperm cells began wiggling their tails frantically, somehow knowing which way to swim. Becky was ignorant of the danger as her body made it quite clear to her that nothing beat the strange thing that had just happened ... not even chocolate cake. ------- Chapter 22 Bennet had gotten nothing else from Davidson. Once he saw the badge, he took such offense at being played for a fool that he refused to say anything else to the Marshal. But it wasn't guilt or fear that Bennet saw in the man, which was the important thing. It was pretty clear that the rustlers weren't bringing him their stolen cattle ... or that he didn't know it if they were. He paid a visit to the sheriff then, or tried to. The office was empty. Out on the street, now displaying his badge on his vest prominently, Bennet asked around and eventually found a man wearing a star sitting in a saloon playing cards. The man looked up, saw Bennett's badge and scooted back. "Be back in a while, boys," he said to the other three men at the table. One was wearing a banker's eyeshade. The other two looked like businessmen of one sort or another. "What can I do for you?" he asked Bennet. Bennet smiled and stuck out his hand. "Bill Bennet, up from the Oklahoma Territory. Got time to let me ask some questions?" "Bob Brady," said the sheriff, taking the offered hand, squeezing it and pumping it up and down once. "All the time in the world, Marshal. Buy you a drink?" "I appreciate it, but maybe later," said Bennet. He didn't think the man would be insulted by his turning down the drink, seeing as how they were both lawmen. You never knew, though. They walked outside, instinctively knowing that lots of ears would like to hear their discussion and unconsciously wanting to deny those ears. Bennet laid out plainly that he was looking for rustlers who had hit some of the herds using the Chisholm Trail. "Haven't had that kind of trouble around here," said Brady firmly. "Not that I know of anyhow. We do get some mixed bunches in here, but most of them escaped from the drovers, rather than being taken." "That's what Mr. Davidson said too," said Bennet. "He's pretty much a straight arrow," said the sheriff. "The stealing he does is the legal type, where he offers half of what some man's cows are worth." "How do you feel about the Little P." "Man's crazy," said Brady immediately. "He's been scraping by out in Indian territory, pulling in strays. He even tried corralling some buffalos if what I hear is true. Was going to try to crossbreed them with cows. I laughed 'til I had to sit down when I heard that. He's a hard worker, though, and tough as nails. He's made friends with the Indians. Had to, to survive out there as long as he has." "You heard anything about him driving a herd to Abilene?" "Naw." Brady shook his head. "He's only got three hands. They all come to town with a small herd twice a year and kick up their heels, but they're little drives. I don't think he's ever brought more than two hundred head in at a time." Bennet nodded. "Know anything about another feller? He's a newcomer, according to Davidson. He seems to think this man might be a squatter, north of here who's gathering strays." "That would be Julian," said Bennet. "He didn't give a last name, but from what I could tell he stumbled upon Grady Baldwin's place. Found Grady dead and told me about it when he was in town. I only seen him once. I don't believe he's brought any cows to town." "You say he looked you up?" asked Bennet. "No. He said something to the bartender over at the Lucky Strike, who passed it on to me. I invited myself to sit down at his breakfast table, where I got the rest of the story." "What did you think of him?" "He was nervous, but I think he was telling the truth about Grady. I got the impression he planned to stay at Grady's place for a spell. And then last week I heard he was in town again, though I didn't see him that time. Spent quite a bit of money over at the general store. Had a woman and some kids with him, but they wasn't his kids, according to Bernice. She's the storekeeper's wife. You might go talk to her. She's a yapper when it comes to gossip." He thought for a few seconds. "I can tell you one thing, though. He wears his rig in a cross draw. I ain't seen many of them, and the ones I did fancied themselves as gunslingers. He didn't cause no trouble hereabouts. I'd have heard about it if he did." "Where abouts did he find this dead man?" "I ain't never been out there, but Grady said it was a day's ride north and maybe a little west of here. Grady came here from California and wanted to set up shop as a farmin' man. Paid for everything with gold dust. That young feller said he'd been shot in the head, right through his hat and that all that was left was bones. I think I might know who done it, but he's long gone and Lord knows where he might be." Bennet took the information on the supposed victim, and the man who the sheriff suspected of the murder. He'd wire it to Topeka one of these days, though he didn't expect anybody to get too excited about it. He shook the man's hand again and they both said they might see each other again some day and the Marshal left the sheriff to go back to his card game. Bennet did go talk to Bernice Abernathy, who was all a-twitter when she realized this important man wanted her opinion. She remembered the man he was asking about well. "He came in here out of the blue one day and bought two dresses and seeds for a garden," she said. "The poor boy didn't have the faintest idea what to get. I had to tell him what to buy. You know he didn't even know what sizes of dresses to get. He seemed like such a nice boy, though, so I helped him all I could. I didn't realize he was a criminal! Mercy me!" "I didn't say he was a criminal, Ma'am," said Bennet. "I just need to find him, that's all." "He's not a criminal?" She brightened. "I'm so glad because that woman he brought in here last week was such a sweet dear. Her name is Arabella, of all things. Isn't that a pretty name? I never heard that name before. I'm not even sure how to spell it! And there was some sadness about her too, though of course I didn't pry into that. But I could tell there was something bothering her." She finally had to take a breath and Bennet spoke quickly, before she got started again. "What's this man like?" he asked quickly. "Well he seems like a nice young man," said Bernice, frowning as if it took great mental energy to dredge up more information. "He's a cowboy, I can tell you that. That's probably why he didn't know a thing about gardening. Wears his gun all funny too. And there's something going on between him and that sweet woman too, though of course I don't know what. But they were entirely too casual with each other, him calling her by her first name and all, and entirely too young to be her husband. She was wearing a ring, but he wasn't. I thought he must be her hired hand, because she was the one with the money, but surely no hired hand would call his employer by her first name like that, do you think?" It wasn't really a question, because she didn't give him time to answer it. "Her children were right well mannered too," she went on. "Of course like all children they were most interested in the penny candy. Come to think of it that Julian fellow was ordering the boy around. A hired hand wouldn't surely wouldn't do that." "MAYBE," Bennett's voice was louder than usual, but she stopped, her eyes blinking, and he had a chance to go on. "Maybe all three of them are her children. How old were they all?" "Julian wasn't her child," said Bernice firmly. "He called her by her first name, and the other two called her 'Mamma.' I suppose he was seventeen or eighteen. It's hard to tell when a man's been out on the range for a long time, and he had that look to him. The boy was maybe fifteen or sixteen. I'd have put the girl at that age two, but come to think of it they didn't look like twins or anything, and a woman can't just pop out two babies in one year, so I suppose she might be older." She snatched a breath, possibly afraid that Bennet would interrupt her in the delivery of this very important information. "Or the boy could be younger, except that he seems to have some cowboy in him too, and the muscle of an older boy, so I reckon I just don't rightly know how old they were." "And this woman?" asked Bennet, wondering if it was a good idea to go on. "How old was she?" Bernice's eyebrows rose a full inch and a look of indignation came onto her face. "Why Marshal, a cultivated man like yourself should know that it isn't polite in the slightest to inquire into a woman's age. I am surprised at you!" "All I need to know is if she was old enough to be their mother," he sighed. "Well of course she was. Why on earth would they call her 'Mamma' if she wasn't?" "Of course." He sighed again. He looked over at the man he supposed was this woman's husband. He had on an apron and was standing behind the counter. The man rolled his eyes. "Would it be possible to get an idea of what they bought while they were here?" He was thinking of materials to try to alter the appearance of a cow, such as dye, or metal that could be used as a running iron, to alter brands. What he got was clearly a list of items that any family would need to get through the coming winter. If he wanted to know more about this mysterious group of people, he'd just have to go find them. His gut told him it was a goose chase, but it was also a lead, and he looked into all leads. ------- The immediate aftermath of the accident involving Becky and Frank Jr. might have been as interesting as the accident itself, but they never got a chance to find out. About the time Becky was going to ask Frank Jr. why he put his willy in her when she had specifically forbidden him to do so, there came a Rebel yell from inside the house that was clearly audible a hundred feet away. It was then repeated, and galvanized the teens into instant action. That consisted of putting dry clothes on still wet bodies, which took a lot of concentration.' They ran to the house. Frank Jr. was trying to remember if he'd put the rifle away yet, or if it was still on his horse. He'd just had to have that bath before he took care of the animal. What they saw as they rushed in was a stark naked Julian acting as if he were in a swarm of bees and was being bitten by hundreds of them. Their mother was lying on her back on their bed, also naked, her legs still spread. It was the goofy smile on her face that told her children that whatever it was that Julian was doing, it didn't mean anything bad. It was Frank Jr.'s first good look at his second pussy, and he marveled at how different it looked from Becky's. It was also Becky's first semi-good look at a different willy too. It was only semi-good because as he danced, his still hard willy bounced around wildly. That he was "dancing" became clear as he saw them and stopped. "Oh shit!" he said, his mouth hanging open. "Julian!" yipped their mother, but then she started giggling. "What happened?" asked Becky. "Go on back outside and let us get presentable," said Bella. "We'll come out and tell you in a bit." The teens backed out as Julian said "OH DAMN!" and started dancing around again. Their mother's laughter was so loud that they could only understand part of what sounded like a song that Julian was singing. What they heard was "I'm gonna be a dye-deeeeee," which didn't make any sense at all. Back outside, they were still distracted. "What do you think happened?" "Maybe he asked her to marry him," said Becky. "And she said yes!" "Julian as my Pappa?" Frank Jr. frowned. "I mean I like him and all, but he's not that much older than you are." "He wouldn't be our pappa," said Becky. "There's another name for it, but I can't remember what it is. If we were still in school I could ask the teacher. I wonder if we'll ever get to go to school again." She can be forgiven for letting her mind wander, because Becky's body was still reverberating from what had happened between Frank and her. Once his enlarged penis left her tender channel, all pain had vanished, leaving only the afterglow of a decidedly different kind of orgasm. Then, seeing her mother and AJ naked like that had been another shock to her system, though not a big one. It was the memory of Julian's hard penis bouncing around that caused her to turn to her brother. "You put it in me!" she gasped. "We had real sex!" "I didn't mean to!" he yelped. "You promised me you wouldn't do that," she moaned. "I meant it too," he insisted. "I'm telling you I didn't mean it." He blinked, realizing that there was something odd about what he'd just said, but unable to put his finger on it. "Did you mean it or not?" asked his sister, who had also been confused by the sentence. "I promised Julian I wouldn't do nothing more than what we already done, and I promised you I wouldn't try to have real sex with you, and I meant both of those," he said, somewhat laboriously. "Well you did," said Becky, meaning that he DID have real sex with her. Of course Frank was the one who misunderstood now. "Of course I did. Didn't I just say that?" He suddenly frowned. "Are you all right?" "Of course I'm all right," she said. "I think I'm just confused, that's all." "I mean are you all right from having real sex?" he asked. "Are you bleeding again, like when I put my finger in you?" He blinked. "Which I hope you remember was also an accident." Her eyes went round. "I don't know!" she said. "What if I am?" She sounded scared. "Let me look," he suggested. "You can't just look at my private parts!" she yipped, clearly distracted by thoughts of trouble. "Why not?" he asked. "You let me lick it, and a little while ago you were showing it to me naked! Why the heck can't I see it now?" Her eyes cleared and she blushed. "I don't know why I said that," she said. "Like I said, I think I'm confused right now." "Well we need to know if you're bleeding," he said. She looked around for some reason, and then back at him. "All right, come with me." She grabbed his hand and, for who knows what reason, took him back to the scene of the crime, where she had lost her virginity and was inseminated with the sperm that were even now swarming around the defenseless egg about to enter her womb. By the time it did enter that warm cavern, the tail of the sperm that had won the day was just slipping inside the wall of the egg and twenty-three male chromosomes were about to introduce themselves to twenty-three female chromosomes. She didn't think of it that way, of course, but that's what was happening. Once there, she sat down, bend her knees, spread them apart, and pulled her skirts up. Frank Jr. got down on his hands and knees and peered between her thighs. All he saw was a drip of his cream, oozing out of tightly closed lips. He saw no blood, nor anything pink or red. "Looks fine to me," he said. It must be explained that children of that age, in that time of history, had a dismal knowledge of the reproductive process. Unless someone actually informed them otherwise, such as a doctor, perhaps, or some other adult who might share the truth with them for some unknown reason, most young adults back then thought that to have a baby you had to DO something to the woman to MAKE her pregnant. The mere act of having sex wasn't believed to be enough to amount to DOING something. Of course you had to have sex to make a baby, but you also had to do some other mysterious thing WHILE you were having sex to arrive at that end result. In Frank Jr.'s mind, since he didn't know what that mysterious thing was, he just assumed that you had to WANT to make a baby for it to happen. That's why when he saw his cream leaking out of his sister, he assigned it no particular importance. After all, she'd swallowed a gallon of it, and nothing had happened. What difference could it really make if it got put someplace else than her mouth? Sadly, Becky's knowledge of the reproductive process was equally limited. Truth to tell, had she gotten back in the water and used it to clean herself out with, it still probably wouldn't have been enough to stop what was happening. It's pretty hard to wash out a womb that's already closed off with a mucus plug, which sperm can happily penetrate, while water, most often, cannot. The egg in her womb was happily surveying the available property, trying to choose a place to settle in ... and stay a while. In any case, once she found out she wasn't going to die from having real sex, Becky rearranged her clothing, stood up, and turned her thoughts back to what was going on in the sod house. "We need to be right there when they come out," she said. "Something important happened inside that house!" It just would have confused her more if someone had been around to inform her that something just as important had happened outside that house too. ------- Chapter 23 Bennet heard the cattle before he saw them, and stopped his horse. It was late evening, but there would probably be light for another hour or so. It was plenty of time to have a quiet little look-see around. He knew his horse would stand where it was if he dropped the reins, and stay there until he either came back, or whistled for it. He was already dressed in his range clothes, and could pass for a cowboy, if he needed to. His spectacles might get some looks, but it wasn't unheard of for a cowboy to wear them. He was puzzled that he could hear cows so clearly, but not see them. Normally it was the other way around. You saw them a mile off, in this kind of terrain. He walked forward slowly. The rim of the depression announced itself when he found he could look down through the tall grass, and he got down on his hands and knees to crawl forward, ending up on his belly and parting the grass with his hands. It was a sweet setup. The pond, fed by a stream from the look of the line of trees on both sides, gave them water. The house was sod, which he knew to be almost indestructible, even in a tornado. There was a wisp of smoke coming from the chimney. He looked at the more recent construction and guessed correctly that it was a stable, even though there were two horses outside of it, grazing on the grass between the house and pond. He could see one saddle in the stable, rigged with a lariat, suggesting it was a cowboy's rig. The herd, such as it was, was mostly stationary, so he was able to count. A hundred and seventeen head was what he came up with. That was too few to be cattle he was looking for. On the other hand, if the rustled herd had been broken up into smaller groups this could be part of it. It was a beautiful place to hide cows, though it wouldn't hold many more than were already in it. Who'd have thought there was a dip this deep when everything around it was normal prairie? He couldn't see the brands from this distance, and couldn't see any people either. That little house wouldn't hold many. He waited. He didn't want to move until he was sure they didn't have guards. He doubted there were outriders. The cattle seemed happy staying where they were. Over the next hour, as the light faded to night, he saw only one person leave the house. It was a girl, based on the dress she was wearing and her long locks. She carried a bucket to his left, to the tip of the pond, scooped up water and then returned to the house. Feeling the bumps under his body, and realizing that they were causing pain he'd ignored until now, he elected to proceed with his investigation. It didn't look like there were any guards out. He returned to his horse and circled around, so he'd come in from the west, where the girl had gotten water. His plan was to act the part of a drover who'd finished a drive and was now out of work. He didn't try to be quiet any longer, but the grass muffled the sound of his horse's hooves. It blew as it went downhill, and the two horses he'd seen in the dip whinnied in welcome. "HELLO THE HOUSE!" he called out, laying his hand on his pistol. He was reassured when the door opened and a man, holding nothing in his hands appeared. "Who's there?" he called out. "I'm Billy Bennet, lately of the Circle Z ranch, down Texas way. We delivered a herd to Abilene a few days ago. Was riding by and heard your cows," said Bennet. "I'm lookin' fer a job." A woman appeared beside the man in the flickering light of what looked like a fire. The two spoke softly for a few seconds. "Can't offer you a job," said the man, "but you're welcome to a bowl of stew." Bennet moved his horse forward, taking his hand off his pistol. "I appreciate that," he said. "My belly's plumb empty." ------- There was tension in the house when Bennet walked in. He had to duck, because the ceiling beams were low enough to brush his hat. He looked around the part of the house he could see. There was an old oil cloth hanging from the ceiling that obstructed his view into about a third of the space. He wondered if there was a man behind the oilcloth with a gun, waiting to see what he'd do. Of the four people visible, three were young folks and what he now saw was an older woman. Nobody was holding weapons. These were obviously the squatters he'd heard of. That nattering biddy at the general store had been convinced that this older boy was not the woman's son. He was the one who'd invited the stranger down off his horse, offering normal frontier hospitality. That fit with the storekeeper's wife saying he was a cowboy. The other boy and girl were standing a few feet away, obviously standing together, based on how close they were to each other. They must be the woman's children. Most of the nervous feel in the room seemed to be coming from them. The question was, where was the woman's man? "I appreciate this," he said again, taking off his hat and accepting a bowl and spoon from the woman. The bowl was heaped with thick chunks of something that smelled good. He took a bite quickly, like a hungry man might do, chewed and then spoke. "This is right good, Ma'am. I got paid off after the drive, but I sort of got a weakness for whiskey and a pretty woman and ... well ... I'm flat broke. I was hopin' you might could use some help with your herd." He saw the older woman stiffen at his use of the word "whiskey," but that wasn't so odd. Lots of women had no use for the devil's drink. He ate more stew, which was delicious and full of chunks of meat. Though he presumed it was the woman who was in charge here, it was the young cowboy who spoke. "We're just building a herd," he said. "Gathering strays from cattle drives like the one you were on. Doing some farming too, or trying. We ain't been here long. It would be nice to have another hand, but we got no cash money to pay anybody with." Bennet nodded, though this raised more questions in his mind. This young man acted like he was part of the family. He had the look, close up, that suggested he was an experienced hand. He was bowlegged from being in the saddle a lot. That went with the saddle Bennet had seen. But where did the woman come from? He could see a cowboy getting the idea to gather strays, but the farming angle didn't fit. Nor did the woman. Why would a woman throw in with a boy young enough to be her son, if he was judging ages rightly? He thought again about the possibility that this was part of the rustled herd, split up to make it easier to deal with the numbers. Maybe one of the rustlers had died somehow. Might not his wife demand to take over his share? Might she not then be tempted to throw in with one of the other men? He'd seen stranger liaisons before. It was all interesting enough that he decided to try to stay around a while, and learn more. He let out a theatrical belch and smacked his lips. "Pardon me, Ma'am." He grinned a brainless smile. "This here is some mighty good vittles." He looked at the cowboy then. "'Course I wouldn't expect no pay until you sell the herd. But if you're building it by gathering strays, I s'pect another hand would make that go a lot quicker. Iff'n you're gonna make a drive this year, you ain't got a lot of time left to get it done, and another man would make the drive go a lot smoother. Be a shame to lose some of them strays after you went to all the work to find 'em." Bennett's thinking was that, if this small group of people were part of a larger organization, they'd turn him down flat. At the least they'd have to get permission from higher ups to bring somebody else into the camp. If that happened, he'd just have to do his surveillance from afar. He scooped up the rest of the stew and cleaned his bowl with his fingers while he waited to see what they'd do. He was surprised when they talked about it. "What ARE we going to do with the cattle you've found?" asked the woman. "I had thought to take them to Wichita," said the cowboy. "I talked to a man there who buys small herds. But this late in the season he won't give premium pay, even though our cows are nice and fat. We'd get better money for them in Abilene, but..." The woman stiffened again. "It's too far," she said, looking worried. Bennet thought that was a singularly odd thing for her to say. Abilene was only a week away, from what he'd heard. And the cowboy obviously didn't want to go to Abilene either. Maybe because the brands in "their herd" would be recognized? "We can keep them over the winter," said the young man, "but we'll have to gather in a lot of hay to get them through the snows. On the other hand, an early drive next spring could get us even better money." "Yes," thought Bennet, "when those brands won't be as fresh in the minds of the buyers." The woman thought for a minute, and then said something that made Bennett's suspicions flare brightly. "What if you drove them to Abilene and HE sold the herd?" she asked. The cowboy blinked, then looked disgusted and shot a look at Bennet, who looked down quickly, as if he wasn't paying attention. He scraped another finger along the rim of his empty bowl and then sucked it clean. "I'm sorry," said the woman, clearly flustered. "It was just an idea." The cowboy ignored her. Bennet realized he hadn't looked down quickly enough, because the cowboy spoke directly to him. "I helped take a herd to Abilene too, earlier in the year. Got in a little likkered up myself. They got a sheriff up there who said he don't want to see me again real soon. Maybe he don't want to see you either?" Bennet knew it was a lie. He could just feel it. He decided to stay in the game, instead of fold. "I didn't get in no trouble," he drawled. "I just spent all my pay." Bennett's thoughts evolved. What if this little group had split from the rustlers? There was no honor among thieves. Maybe he'd found this place, gotten the idea to drive off what he could of the rustled herd, and was hiding from the rest of the gang? He'd definitely want to stay clear of being seen selling the cattle. Bennet kept the pressure up. "Ma'am," he said smiling widely. "For a chance to eat vittles like this regular, it don't matter a whit to me whether I move cows in two weeks or four months. I can cut hay. But I seen a few steers wandering around on my way here too. I didn't pay no attention to them, but I never thought about trying to gather them all up like you folks are doin'. There's more cows out there to be found, and still time to drive them to a buyer this year if we put our mind to it." The cowboy looked at him oddly and he wondered if he hadn't played his hand too fast. But it was the woman who spoke next. "We'll think on all this tonight and come to a decision in the morning. You're free to sleep in the stable tonight, if you like." "Much obliged," said Bennet. "I won't bother you folks any more tonight, and thanks again for the vittles." He handed her the bowl and went back outside. He went through the normal motions of a cowboy bedding down for the night, unlimbering his bedroll on a pile of hay and then stripping his saddle off his horse and rubbing it down with handfuls of hay. If anybody was watching him, he wanted to look as normal as possible. ------- No one was watching the stranger. There was too much quiet discussion inside the house, and all their attention was on that. Basically the question was whether to sell their small herd now, or wait until spring. They had provisions to last the winter, but no money to restock in the spring. It would be less work and money in the pocket to get rid of the steers now. As had already been said, though, they might get more for the herd in the spring, when there were fewer cattle available to the buyers. "Why don't we do both?" asked Frank Jr. Everyone looked at him but he explained it to Julian. "You and me and Billy go sell what we've gathered in Abilene. He can do the deal and we can stay out of town. While we're gone Mamma and Becky can cut hay. We pay Billy off and then come back here. If we come back by a different route than we go up, we might see more strays and we can bring them back here. If we keep looking until the snow is too deep, we might have more to sell next spring, in Wichita." It was a pretty good plan, all things considered and, with Billy's help, workable. There would be less money for them, because Billy would have to be paid, but it would be a short drive. The problem was that Julian had delivered herds, but had no idea what the going price for a steer was. He'd never needed to know that before. And, while Davidson, in Wichita, had said he bought cattle, he never named a price. For that reason they had no idea what to offer Billy as pay. Julian had been paid seventy-five dollars for helping twenty other men deliver three thousand head from Texas to Kansas. By his reckoning, they were about a fifth of the way from Abilene, where the price would be better. They decided to offer Billy fifteen dollars to help get the herd to Abilene and sell it there. ------- Bennet woke to find the toe of the girl prodding his shoulder. "Mamma says breakfast is ready," she said. She turned and hurried back into the house. He sat up and stretched, then got up and followed her. To his surprise breakfast was bacon and flap jacks. They were good too, though a little dry since there was nothing to put on them. He made sure to praise the woman's cooking again. Julian laid out the offer and Bennet made a show of thinking about it. He knew most cowboys were broke most of the time, and now he knew why. Cattle were selling for between twenty-five and thirty dollars a head at the rail head. That meant the value of the rustled cattle he was looking for was between $15,000 and $18,000. Just the hundred and seventy-five head these people had were worth between four and five thousand dollars. And all they were offering him was fifteen bucks? He was supposed to be acting like a cowboy, though, so he nodded. "That will get me back to Texas," he said. "Iff'n you can keep me out of the saloon." "We drive them in, you sell them and then come straight back to us," said Julian, trying to sound like he'd done this kind of thing before. To Bennet, it sounded like they were trying to get him to take all the risk of selling stolen cattle. Bennet knew he'd only need a week with this bunch to learn what he needed to know. It occurred to him that if they were actually legitimate, he was going to be leaving them in the lurch when he left. On the other hand, if they were split off from the rustling gang, he owed them nothing but a trip to see the judge ... after they told him where to look for the main gang, that was. He nodded. ------- He got confirmation that this was the bunch Sheriff Brady had told him about when Julian put his holster on. It was a cross draw rig. Even if there'd been any question about that, when Frank Jr. came out of the house wearing a hat with a bullet hole right in the middle of the forehead, Bennet knew it was them. It only took the marshal three days to decide that, as odd as this little group was, and as much of an undercurrent of nervousness as they sometimes displayed, they weren't rustlers. In the daylight he saw the work that had gone into this little homestead. It was a lot more work than any rustlers he'd ever met would go to. That was extended as the man he now knew as Julian, opted to go west that day and try to find more strays, if possible, before they started north. Bennet observed that the boy was good at it, having a fine eye for spotting a color that shouldn't be there in the tall grass that could hide a steer quite handily. It as obvious by noon how drovers could lose a few cows during the night, and why owners wouldn't be all that concerned. If a herd left Texas with three thousand head, and lost fifty on the way, that only amounted to a loss of $1400, compared to the $80,000 the rest of the herd would sell for. With two hundred or more herds running the Chisholm Trail every year, that meant there could be a hell of a lot of strays. Frank Jr. worked hard too, and surprised Bennet by climbing any tall tree they came to, shouting down directions as to which direction they should go when he saw strays that were much too distant for the men to identify. Still, it was hard and dangerous work gathering them. The three of them found ten more head, but none of them wanted to be herded, and four of them charged the horses several times before they gave up and let themselves be driven in a particular direction. Throughout the day Bennet thought about how much easier it would be to rustle cattle, driving off twenty-five or thirty head a night, from passing herds, and hiding them until late in the season when the thieves could cash in. It was obvious that Julian and Frank Jr. were doing things the hard way. As he watched them work, it was also obvious they had done this before. By the time they got back that day, Bennet had already decided that he was wasting his time, and would move on with his investigation. When they got back, the women came out to meet them, fearless of the big long horns, which could gut a couger with one swipe of a horn. When he saw the obvious joy that they had found a few more steers, his attitude toward this odd and interesting little family changed from suspicion to admiration. They were doing the best they could in a land that would just as soon kill you as help you survive. He knew there was a story here, but he wasn't going to pry. He also knew that, when they found he had disappeared in the night, that they'd be back where they started before he came along to "help" them. For that reason he decided to give Julian some advice before he left. As they were urging the new steers over the rim of the bowl, toward the rest of the herd, he rode up next to Julian. "You know, you probably ought to re-brand these cattle." "I'm not taking a running iron to these beeves," said Julian. "There will be questions enough about mixed brands when we sell them. I don't want to make it look like we're thieves." "That's not what I meant," said Bennet. "I was thinking of your own brand, right alongside whatever's already on them. That tells people you found them, and claimed them, just like is happening. That also tells the buyer you're on the up and up, because you've got a brand that can be traced." "I never thought of that," said Julian. "That's a good idea. It means I'll have to get a branding iron made, though, and that will take both time and money." "It's just an idea," said Bennet. He'd offered them a way to make things a little easier. It was all he could do. One of the new steers tried one more time to get away, breaking hard and running. "I got these!" yelled Frank Jr., pointing at the nine that were still grouped up. "You two go for that one!" The two men wheeled their horses and split, riding to the left and right of the fleeing longhorn. About a hundred yards later they got even with it and then came back together. The steer, bawling and rolling his eyes, skidded to a stop and stamped. The horses wheeled again, and went towards the beast on their own. The steer looked around behind it, like it was thinking, and then turned and began trotting back toward the herd. The two men split again, and followed, just in case it decided to make another break for it. It was Bennett's horse that scared up the pheasant. It started running right under the horse's front hooves, startling the animal and making it rear. Bennet adapted easily and, as his horse came back down, the pheasant took flight, moving right in front of Julian. Bennet watched, unbelieving as Julian's right hand reached for his pistol, drew, aimed and fired, all in the space of less than two seconds. Julian's horse jinked at the unexpected shot, while the bird cart wheeled and fell, leaving a few feathers to drift to the ground. Julian let his horse settle, replaced the pistol in its holster, rode over, dismounted and picked up his kill. He held it up, grinning. "Supper!" he yelled. Bennet wanted a look at that bird. He'd never seen anything like what had just taken place. The kid's draw had been lightning fast and, with one shot from a PISTOL had brought down a bird in flight. He was astonished. "You shot it," he yelled. "I'll clean it." He found, when Julian handed him the bird, that it was a head shot. They rode up to three anxious people who had heard the shot, and wanted to know what was going on. Frank and Becky were properly amazed by the bird, and the story of how it came to be their supper. Bennet thought it was interesting that the Bella seemed unsurprised, but chalked it up to a woman not understanding what kind of speed and skill it had taken. ------- Chapter 24 After supper Bennet said his good nights as if everything were normal. He waited two hours, quietly saddling his horse and walking it slowly away from the house. The other horses, used to his now, didn't make any sounds. He walked it all the way out of the bowl before mounting. Then he headed west. He felt a twinge or two of conscience at leaving this strange little family in the lurch, but he had business to pursue. He hoped they'd make it. ------- In the morning Becky went out to get Billy up again. She wondered why her mother kept sending her to wake him, instead of Frank Jr., and was afraid her mother was trying to match make. She'd been worried ever since the stranger arrived. Because of the stranger, she and her brother hadn't had a chance to talk over what had happened. They also hadn't had a chance to do anything else. Sleeping beside him for two nights like that had been unsettling. They could neither talk about nor do anything, because Julian and her mother also weren't doing anything other than a bunch of whispering on their side of the room. It had left her feeling nervous and anxious for some reason. Now, as she saw the empty place where Billy was supposed to be, and the fact that his horse was missing, she whirled and ran back in. "HE'S GONE!" she shouted. Everybody went outside quickly as she explained what she'd found. Frank did some looking around while Julian tried to look for sign. There were too many tracks around to make sense of any of them. "Nothing's missing," said Frank. "How strange," said Bella. It was a mystery they'd contemplate for quite a while. They waited for two days, thinking he'd ridden out for some reason that would become clear when he returned. Of course he didn't return, and Billy being gone changed everything. No longer was Abilene an option. Julian and Frank could probably handle a hundred head, but not for a long distance, not to mention that Julian might be recognized in Abilene. For that reason they decided to split the herd, taking half and selling them for what they could get for them from Davidson, in Wichita. The rest would be fed over the winter, and sold in the spring, if that worked out. Julian decided to look up that sheriff too, and see what he thought about Billy's idea of double branding strays. ------- They left early the next morning. The hardest part was getting only half the herd out of the bowl. It required that the women help, by waving towels and yelling to split the herd and keep some of them in the dip, where all of them seemed to want to stay now. Once they got them out and moving though, some dim memory in the brains of the steers told them what to do, and they moved steadily in the direction the men wanted them to go. They had to spend two nights on the trail. They'd actually left with eighty-two head. They lost three the first night, and didn't take time to try to find them the next morning. It was Frank's opinion that they could probably find them on the way back, if they wanted to, and just take them back home. Luck led them to spot one of the missing longhorns as the moved on, and it was gathered back into the fold. An hour later they found a stray that was so wild that it almost wasn't worth trying to get into the herd. Once there, though, it seemed to remember it was a herd animal and settled down. The second night they took two hour watches, and simply rode around and around the herd the entire time. They didn't lose any that night. Davidson recognized the cowboy who had come to see him earlier. He opened a pen and watched the two young men herd the bawling bunch into it, examining them as they went in. They were obviously strays, and not just because of the mixed brands. They had more weight on them, for the most part, than cows that had been driven all the way from Texas would if they had just arrived. These cows had been standing around for a while, just eating. Next he turned his attention to Julian, who was waiting for him to do something. He didn't act like he'd done this before, and Davidson wondered if he knew the value of what he'd just delivered. "Mighty late in the year," he drawled. "If I can't get enough to make it worth a drive north, I'm going to have to feed them all winter." "What'll you give," Julian asked artlessly. Davidson wanted to smile. The fool boy wasn't even going to dicker. If he could get him to take a low enough figure, it would be worth even a small drive to Abilene. "All I can give you is fifteen a head," he said, sounding grave. AJ blinked. "Fifteen DOLLARS a head?" he asked, obviously distressed. "I know you think they're worth more," said Davidson sadly, "but it IS late in the season, and I got expenses in getting them to a rail head. If you'd have brought them next spring I might have been able to offer you double that. But it ain't next spring, now is it? So fifteen a head is all I can do. Take it or leave it." What AJ had been thinking was that, even though math wasn't his strong suite, the way he was figuring things, just five of these cows were worth as much as his whole pay for the cattle drive he'd been on. It seemed like an incredible amount of money for this man to offer. At the same time, Davidson, through his own kind of artlessness, had informed Julian he was actually being offered the lowest price possible. It was astonishing. He would gladly take what was offered, but he instinctively knew that he needed to avoid this in the future. He took a chance. "I'll remember that next spring, when I have more for you. If you can't offer me what they're really worth then, I'm going to have to take my business elsewhere," he warned. "I don't have time to drive these beeves to Abilene, now, but this is only half our herd, and next spring I'll have all the time in the world." Davidson jumped at the chance. "Next spring is another matter," he said quickly. "Things will be different then. I'm doing you a favor here, sonny. Like you said, you ain't got time to deliver these here cows this year. I do, but I've got to be able to make a dollar on the deal." "When do I get paid?" asked Julian, eager to get this done with. Davidson, realizing that the boy really was completely inexperienced with in this business, led him to the shack that was his office. Instead of getting money, he scribbled on a piece of paper and handed that to Julian. "Take this over to the bank," said Davidson. "They'll honor it there, and you'll get your money." "And if they don't?" Julian was staring at the numbers "1200.15" right in front of the word "dollars." He couldn't believe it. "Boy, you obviously ain't done this a lot," sighed Davidson. "That's how business is done, savvy?" "Oh," said Julian. He had to take the man's word for it. And, if there was a problem, he could always come back. ------- The man in the teller window of the bank acted like transactions of more than a thousand dollars were the commonest things in the world. "Do you want to put this on account with us?" he asked. "Account?" The man smiled patiently. "Yes, sir, do you want to open an account?" "And if I do, you'll keep the money for me?" asked Julian. "Yes, Sir." "And how do I get it when I need it?" asked Julian. "You come in and ask for it," said the man, still smiling. "Can I take some of it with me now?" asked Julian, feeling like he was in a whole different world. "Certainly. You can deposit it all now, and then withdraw whatever you need today." "Can I get half of it in cash money?" asked Julian. "Yes sir." The teller was losing his patience. Where did these rubes come from, who knew nothing of finances and accounting. "I must warn you, though, that's a lot of money. It will be perfectly safe in the bank, but if you have it on you it's possible to lose it, or have it stolen, or whatever. We'll be more than happy to keep all but what you really need safe and sound in our vault." "If it's all the same to you, I'll just take half in cash money," said AJ. If he went back home with six hundred dollars in cash money, their problems were over, even if the bank refused to give them any more later. The teller, being a man who counted dollars and cents carefully, interpreted Julian's request quite literally. What Julian left the bank with was exactly half of the draft Davidson had written out, and a little book that the teller had written in for him. It showed the initial balance of $1,215.00, and a withdrawal of $607,50, leaving a balance of $607.50. He felt much better with the little book, because now he had something from the bank to prove that there was that much more money there, waiting for them. Frank Jr. cared nothing for the book, but wanted to hold the cash. When Julian gave it to him he thought the boy might faint dead away. "I ain't never even HEARD of this much money before," sighed Frank. "I know," said Julian. "Kind of makes you think about wanting to find more strays, don't it?" "You bet!" said Frank. "This is real money!" "Speaking of which," said Julian. "Don't you think your mamma and Becky deserve another new dress apiece?" "I sure do!" agreed the boy eagerly. Then, afraid he might have seemed too eager, he added. "And some candy too, right?" Julian reached for the fifty cent piece in Frank's hand and held it up. It gleamed in the sunlight. "And some candy too," he laughed. They left the store with two new dresses and a bag of penny candy that Frank Jr. swore would last the entire family all winter. It was carefully put away in Frank Jr.'s brand new saddlebags. Julian had a new kerosene lamp lashed to his bedroll, with a square tin of fuel for it in his saddle bags, next to a little bottle of astonishingly expensive perfume. Heading for home, they saw the sheriff sitting on the front porch of the jail, and Julian pulled his horse toward him. This being town, he got down without an invite. The sheriff didn't stand up. He just said "Julian," and waited. "Howdy, sheriff. We brought some stray beeves in today and sold them," said Julian. "I see," said the sheriff. "I think we're going to stay on that place we found," said AJ. "I don't want there to be any question about the honesty of it all, though. Is there any reason we can't stay?" "Don't know of any," said Brady. "Land to the east of here is all plotted for homesteads, but I don't know about this far west. You might want to visit a land office somewheres and look into filing a formal claim." Julian nodded, even though he had no idea where to look for a land office, nor how to file a claim, should it come to that. If it involved either reading or writing he'd be uncomfortable. He knew all the alphabet, and numbers up to times six or seven, but didn't feel capable of doing business more complicated than what he'd already done. He'd had to take Davidson's word for it that he was actually paid fifteen dollars a head for the cows they'd sold. He assumed that if there was a land office in town the sheriff would have said so. He'd have to talk to Bella, though. She owned an actual book that he'd seen in the things they unloaded from the wagon, and had said she'd help him spruce up his reading skills. If they kept making money like this on strays, they could stay where they were and figure out how to file a claim, or go any place they wanted to. As far as he was concerned, that little dip on the Kansas prairie was the sweetest place he'd ever lived. That brought to mind what Billy had said. "A feller happened by our place and told me that it might be a good idea if I had my own brand, to put next to whatever's on the stray when I sell it. Thought I'd see if you thought that was a needful thing to do." Brady's eyebrows furrowed. He wondered if this "feller" that happened by was that marshal, from down south, doing his investigation. If so, Julian didn't seem to know that, and the marshal hadn't taken any action. Not if the boy was here selling the cattle. He'd never heard of double branding, but it WOULD be a good way to identify strays AS strays, assuming there weren't too may of the same original brand in any bunch. "Can't see as how it would do any harm," said the sheriff. "Does suggest you're on the up and up." "Thanks," said Julian. "Any time. Welcome to the territory," said the lawman. After that conversation, and with money in his pocket, Julian led Frank back into town. "What should we call the ranch?" asked Julian. Frank grinned. "We got an actual ranch?" "If we say we do, who's to argue about it?" said Julian carelessly. "You heard the Sheriff. There ain't nobody to complain about it if we want to claim some acres." Frank rode in silence for a few minutes, just thinking. Finally he said "I know what we should call it." "What?" "Bear Claw Ranch," said Frank. "Bear Claw?" "Don't you remember?" asked Frank, grinning. "Becky was afraid to sleep under the wagon because of all the bears." "You think it's wise to tease her about that?" asked Julian, trying to hide a smile. "I suspicion I can get away with it," said Frank, whose eyes had gone unfocused, as if he was thinking about how his sister might react when they got back. "All right, then," said Julian. "But if it falls flat, you're taking the blame." "I'm man enough," said Frank, who was thinking about being man enough to have actually had real sex with a real woman ... even if it WAS an accident. The blacksmith, upon hearing the name, sketched a design in the dirt by the forge. It was an three inch oval, with three straight "claws" coming off of one fat side, each one about two inches long. It was simple, easy to make, and unique. Two hours later and nine dollars poorer, they started home. Julian's horse had four new shoes and the new branding iron was tied to his saddle bags. ------- Back at what they didn't yet know was now officially known as Bear Claw Ranch, Bella and Becky learned to wield the scythe. After carrying armloads of hay back to the stable for an hour, Bella hooked up the wagon and drove it to their cutting site. They piled it as high as they could get it and Becky lay on top, spread eagle while Bella drove the wagon back down into the bowl. It was a wild ride, and she almost slid off several times. They kept at it all that day and the next, taking breaks when their muscles protested too much. By the time it started getting dark the second day, and the men were still not back, the two hot and sweaty women decided to take a cool bath. Once in the bathing pool, they lay back, relaxing. Becky had stared at her mother's naked form, trying to see any evidence that she was going to have a baby. "How come you don't look pregnant?" she finally asked. "It takes a while before it shows," said Bella. "It will probably be another two months or so before you can really tell." "Oh." Becky was still unclear about how all this making a baby thing worked, but she didn't want to ask her mother for the details. It might make her suspicious, and they were already in enough trouble just for peeking. "It's a shame Billy left like that," said her mother suddenly. "Why? Were you going to try to marry me off to him?" Becky's voice left no doubt what she thought of that idea. She was surprised when her mother laughed. "No, but now that you mention it, it is something I should have thought of." Becky didn't want to talk about that. "Why, then?" "Because it would be so much easier to get all this work done if we had another pair of hands," she sighed. "I don't know how much hay it will take to keep all those cows down there fed this winter, but I suspect it's a lot more than what we cut in two days." "Oh," said Becky again. Her hands were a mess. They were blistered from swinging the scythe, and the blisters had been broken by the sharp edges of the grass as she handled it. They felt better now, soaking in the water, but she knew it would be painful tomorrow. "This feels so good," sighed Bella, laying back in the water. "It does," agreed Becky, doing the same. Their ears were under water, which was why they didn't hear the approach of the horses. Becky happened to open her eyes to see two men on VERY tall horses, staring down at them. From her orientation they were sideways to her. She squealed and sat up, which sent a wave of water over her mother's face. Bella sat up coughing. "Ain't that a sight for sore eyes," said Julian, grinning down at the two naked women. "JULIAN HOBBS!" yipped Bella. "You scared me half to DEATH!" "I'm pretty sure I can make it up to you," said Julian. "Not in front of the children!" she snapped, still angry. Julian pulled the little book from his shirt pocket. Neither he nor Bella noticed that Frank and Becky were staring into each other's eyes. Well ... Frank Jr. was staring at more than her eyes, which she was fully aware of. She made no move to cover any part of her body. "Not that way," he laughed. "Though I'll keep it in mind for later." He grinned. "I'd like very much to show you something in this here little book." "What is it?" Bella finally looked at her son. He wasn't looking at her, which was all that registered. Besides, he'd seen her like this more than once. She stood up as Julian climbed down. "It's what they call a bank book," he said. "It's in my name right now, but we can change that to the name of the ranch - we named the ranch, by the way - the next time we're in town." "A bank book?" she asked. She and Frank had opened an account in the bank back home, but there was never anything to put in it. "Looky here," he said, opening the book. She took the book and peered at it in the waning light. Her breath caught in her throat. The number listed in the "current balance" box stole her ability to breathe. Then her eyes went to the original balance and her knees gave way. Julian was ready, and caught her, scooping her up with one arm behind her back, and another under he knees. "NOW I'll make you happy the other way," he said, and started carrying her toward the house. Her breath came back and she wiggled in his arms. "Wait! My clothes!" "I'll get them for you later," he said. "I missed you. I missed you a lot." Behind them, unnoticed, Becky watched her brother's eyes consume her nakedness. She spread her legs and moved one hand between them to rub in gentle circles. "Did you miss me?" she asked. ------- Chapter 25 Frank Jr. sat there, staring at his naked sister as she stared back at him. They both heard their mother's moans as she was carried off. They now knew exactly what she was going to experience in the coming moments. "I did miss you," said Frank, his voice low. "You did?" The thrill that went through her made her nipples tingle and she lifted her other hand to squeeze one, and then the other. "I did," he said firmly. "I believe I need a bath too," he added. Nothing was said as he got down from his horse and started stripping off his clothes. He dropped them in a pile and put his hat on top of them, before stepping toward his sister, who was still seated, her eyes firmly on his bobbing erection. Vanished, like smoke in the wind, were her earlier concerns. The itch inside her that had been there for almost a whole week now, was suddenly explained as she realized what was needed to scratch it. She reached for him, and pulled him down into the water. ------- Bella "resisted" until they got into the house. The women had been working all day and there was no fire in the fireplace, as yet. It didn't matter. Julian knew where the bed was and laid her on it. She got up instantly and attacked his belt buckle, while he took off his hat and shirt. "You're all clean," he said. "I should have taken a bath first too." "I don't care," she gasped, pulling his pants down. Within seconds his prick was lodged firmly in her mouth and she sucked lustily. "I take it he never came back?" groaned Julian. She shook her head slightly, but never let him out of her mouth. "Stop, woman!" he groaned. "I don't want to put it in your mouth." She pulled off, still sucking strongly. "Hurry!" she moaned. He had to sit to kick his boots off and shuck his pants. Then he rolled over onto her. Her hand guided him and he sank in, in one long lunge. "Oh yes," she groaned. "I'll go longer next time," he panted. "I promise." "Just love meeeee," she whined. "Yes Ma'am," he moaned. "Just let me give my baby a bath first." Then he grunted and lunged as he spurted deep inside her. ------- In the bathing pool it wasn't quite as fluid ... though they were surrounded by another meaning of that word. Frank Jr. didn't know what to kiss and suck first. His lips wandered all over Becky's upper body, which was out of the water, and he bounced from a perky nipple to her lips and back to a nipple. "I missed you so much," she moaned, dragging his hand between her thighs. He rubbed and she kissed him. She wanted to lie down and pulled him with her. She spread her legs. When they broke the kiss to breathe she whispered "Put a finger in me." He did and she reached for his willy, stroking it rapidly as he explored her hot interior with his finger. "It doesn't hurt?" he gasped. "Noooooo, it feels wonderful," she panted. She squeezed his willy. "I want this again." "You do?" He wanted it again too, and had been worried it would never happen a second time. Being a man, perhaps he can be forgiven for jumping at the chance, instead of remembering his promise to Julian. Besides, what he was about to do was something they HAD done before so ... technically ... it had been breaking his promise only the FIRST time it had happened. And THAT had been an accident. It was no accident that he moved to lie on top of her now though, or that her hand came to guide the tip of his prick to her opening. Even in the water her body was producing enough lubrication that he could get it inside her. Her legs pulled up, spread wide as there was some friction. He had to work it into her slowly, which was exactly what she needed ... the feel of slowly being filled with luscious pressure on the muscles that had been jumpy all week. "Oh don't stop," she groaned. He didn't. This time, his second time, it wasn't a surprise. He'd thought about this ever since it had happened, lying there beside her for two nights when they couldn't do anything, and then wondering as Billy helped them gather more strays if he'd forget what it had felt like before it ever happened again. In the two nights since then, on the trail, it HAD been harder and harder to bring back the memory of that squeezing heat, all around his willy, pulsing as the soothing jets jumped through it. Now, though, with it fully embedded inside her, it all came back and he almost sobbed with the joy of feeling it again. He fought the urge to spew, wanting this to last longer ... much longer. She moaned, though, and the sound she made that was usually the result of his fingers or mouth on her bump flowed from her parted lips. Then those muscles that were clamping tightly around him relaxed, only to tighten again, doing that several times as she cried out into the balmy evening air. As hard as Frank wanted to wait, he couldn't, and, as Julian gave his baby a sperm bath inside the house, the other baby in the family ... the one nobody knew about yet ... was also surrounded by fresh sperm. Those sperm ignored the tiny fetus growing there, even as they wiggled all around it. It was no longer an egg, having grown into multiple cells. Instead, they searched fruitlessly for something that would not be there again for more than nine months. ------- When Julian, dressed only in his jeans, and barefoot, tiptoed carefully back to the bathing pool to retrieve Bella's clothes, and his horse with its precious cargo, Frank Jr. and Becky were sitting on opposite sides of the pool, just staring at each other. Both jumped as he made a sound, caused by a sharp rock in the grass. "It's just me," he said into the almost complete darkness. There was so little moon this night that the only reason he could see was because there had been no artificial light to ruin his night vision. "I'm glad to see you two are behaving yourselves." He took his horse's reins and reached for Bella's boots and dress. "Give us a little longer, all right?" "Sure," came Frank's slightly strained voice. Julian limped off into the dark again. "We did it again," whispered Becky. They had broken apart as soon as their mutual orgasms receded. Becky's fingers were still probing between her legs, in search of pain or injury that wasn't there. Not the kind she could feel yet, anyway. "I guess so," sighed Frank Jr. "Are you mad?" "No." She sounded puzzled. "I asked you to ... didn't I?" She was trying to remember how it had all happened, but seemed hazy somehow. "I think so," he said. "Are you all right?" "I'm fine," she said. It finally sank in that she WAS fine. This mysterious thing that had hurt the first time, had felt only lovely the second. That much she was sure of. "Good," he sighed. "I was so scared I hurt you." "You didn't hurt me," she said. "It felt ... good." "It sure did!" he sighed. He moved toward her. "I was worried you'd be mad at me." "I can't be mad at you for doing something I asked you to do," she said, pragmatically. "Are you ever going to ask me to do it again?" The hope in his sound sent tingles through her belly again. To be wanted so openly made her feel almost dizzy with happiness. "I think so," she said softly. He thrashed in the water, but the word he wanted to shout as loud as possible was muted to a simple "Yes!" That made her feel good too. "You liked it that much?" "I'd rather do that than eat," he said. She giggled. "Julian said to give them a while longer," he said. "I know," she answered. He stood up. She saw he was hard again, already! "Would you suck it a little bit now?" he asked. She stood up, feeling the flutter in her belly and stepped out of the pool. She arranged her dress on the grass and laid back, spreading her knees and lifting them. "No," she whispered. Their third time was even better. Their eyes, fully adjusted to the light reflected upon the earth, let them stare at each other as, again, she led him to the place she wanted to be filled. Again he slid in slowly, but this time there was no friction at all, as his previous offering made her channel slippery. They experimented a little then, as he moved in her, sometimes slow and sometimes fast. She squeezed her nipples and her pussy muscles rippled again, sucking at him. After having just spurted he had better control, and used it to put off the best feeling so he could enjoy this for as long as possible. When she squealed that it was going to happen again, though, he gave up and flooded her again with warm spurts of his love. ------- It happened that the clues led both Marshals to Dodge City, a rough town by any standards, even those of the west. There were no less than eight saloons in Dodge. It was a town where misunderstandings led to gunplay frequently. Both Stone and Bennet decided to go in wearing their badges prominently. At least if somebody wanted to start something then, they'd know it was about something worth looking into. What they were both looking into was the possibility that the rustlers were selling their stolen beef to the Army garrison at Fort Dodge, which had their hands completely full protecting the citizens using the Santa Fe Trail from marauding and angry Indians. Both had come to the conclusion that if cowboys showed up with beef, nobody at the fort would have time to ask a lot of inconvenient questions. Both were sure that was why they'd found no evidence of rustled cattle being sold further east, at the rail heads. That they met at all was the result of the simple coincidence of Stone heading out of town while Bennet was heading in. Both men saw each other's badges, stopped, and ten minutes later were teamed up for the rest of the investigation. They traded news, and hypotheses and, finding they were in agreement as to what was likely going on, decided to get the proof and then wire Topeka, to see what the head honchos wanted to do about it. Eventually, on the long ride, they ran out of current news and began telling what would later become known as "war stories" in the military. Among them, Bennet mentioned a little family of settlers in a dip in the land north of Wichita. That led to Stone talking about a cowboy turned gunslinger and the family whose husband and father had been killed in a card game in Abilene. "Cross draw, you say?" asked Bennet, feeling a chill go down his spine. "Fast?" "That's what they all said," said Stone. "They said he was the fastest gun anybody had ever seen." "This kid I told you about," said Bennet. "I saw him draw while sitting on horseback and shoot a pheasant in the HEAD while it was flying past him!" Within a mile they were both convinced they were talking about the same people. "Why would she let him hook up with her?" asked Stone, shaking his head. "Her husband died in that fight." "He was helping her," said Bennet, shrugging. "Maybe he felt beholden to her because of her husband." He chuckled. "They was all sleeping in that one house," he said, grinning. "What can you do in a sod house with two kids sleeping right there with you?" asked Stone. "They had it broke up into two rooms with an oilcloth hanging from the ceiling," laughed Bennet. "I'll bet you a dollar he does more than just replace the work she lost from her man in that gunfight." "That would make her a hard woman," sighed Stone. "I don't think so," said Bennet. "She was polite and hard working. Didn't seem to be a mean bone in her body." He laughed again. "Now I know why he didn't want to drive those strays to Abilene too. He was afraid somebody would recognize him. Poor fella." "I heard of some strange ones in my day," said Stone, shaking his head slowly. But that one has to take the cake. Cowboy gets in a gunfight over a rigged game he isn't even in, and the woman's husband gets shot. Then the cowboy takes his place ... on the farm AND in her bed! "You ever shot anybody?" asked Bennet, looking at his new partner sideways. "Once," said Stone. "Did you get to climb in bed with his widow?" Bennet cackled. They rode on, sharing more stories ... but none that were as amazing as the one they'd never forget and forever call the story of the cowboy, the bad bet and the widow. When they arrived at Fort Dodge, they sent a telegram to Topeka, updating their progress on the rustling case. A separate one followed. It said: "killer of fisbys believed located stop man's name is julian stop believed to be living with Bella, wife of slain farmer stop more details upon return stop" ------- December seventh, 1868 U.S. Marshal William Bennet pulled the sheepskin coat up around his ears and pushed his hat down harder on his head. It was colder than a witch's tit and he had at least two weeks to go to get back home, assuming it didn't snow. They had just turned over the December page of the calendar back in Topeka when he and Stone had brought in the lone surviving member of the rustling gang from east of Dodge City. A group of five marshals had found ten men sitting around a campfire in the midst of a herd of five hundred head of longhorns they couldn't sell to the army because the legitimate drovers had shown up a week before with the winter's supply of beef. When the rustlers arrived, they were seven days late and almost fifteen thousand dollars short of pulling off their caper. They were arguing about what to do with the herd when the marshals closed in. The brief, but violent fight that erupted lasted some fifteen minutes, until there was only one rustler left. Pistols against rifles was a bad match up. Bennet, now the best of friends with Stone, had ridden back to Topeka to help deliver the only remaining culprit. He looked around, trying to spot a landmark, but saw nothing. The wind was cruel, but his horse was doing fine. He still had half a bag of oats behind him and that was keeping his horse happy, even in the cold weather. It was the next day that he saw the line of trees that, bare of leaves now still signaled a creek. He chose to try going east because he knew the Chisholm Trail was to the west. He'd ridden down it, fading to the east as he looked for some familiar sight. The crescent of trees looked different without foliage, but he smelled smoke, and that was enough to urge his horse forward. He heard the cattle and soon after his horse stood on the rim of the dip again. Looking downward, he was relieved to see that all looked to be in good order. There were fewer cattle, and an astonishing mountain of hay heaped up by the stable. He guessed correctly they'd made a drive of some sort, probably to Wichita. This time, when he rode down into the dip, he was dressed in his vest and coat. His sheepskin jacket hid who he was. He didn't want them to know until the right time. It would be tragic if there was some kind of misunderstanding. "HELLO THE HOUSE!" he yelled. It was Frank Jr. who stuck his head out the door. "Well I'll be damned," he said, surprise clear on his face. His head turned back inside. "It's Billy!" Julian came out. When Bennet saw he wasn't wearing his gun, he relaxed. Still wanting no mistakes, held up both hands, palms outward. "Sorry I had to run out on you. I can explain, though, and I think you'll be glad it happened. Mind if I get down?" Julian looked dubious and then felt the cold. He nodded. "Of course. Come in out of the cold." Once inside Bennet hid his surprise when he saw the woman, her belly obviously bulging, sitting by the fire with some sewing. She nodded her head, almost regally, and said "Mr. Bennet." She looked strained, though. He turned to take his sheepskin jacket off, so that it wouldn't foul his hands when he turned back and the light of a kerosene lantern gleamed off his badge. He dropped the jacket and let his hand hover over the grip of his pistol. "It's actually Marshal Bennet, Ma'am." He looked at Julian, and saw shock on his face. "I was on the lookout for some rustlers when I met you folks. Had to take a look at your operation because of all those mixed brands. I hope you understand." "Of course," she said weakly. Bennet looked at Julian, who was now staring at his gun belt, hanging on a peg driven into the sod of the walls. You won't be needing that," he said calmly. "I knew within a few days you're not rustlers. While I was here, though, I learned some things about you that answered some questions other people had. That's why I'm here now." Julian started to move and Bennet drew his pistol. "Wait!" he said. "Just hear me out. I don't want any mistakes, and if you're thinking of going for that gun it would be a terrible mistake." Julian stopped. "What do you want?" "I know who you are," Bennet said calmly. "Things aren't the way you might believe, though." "You're pointing a gun at me," said Julian. "What am I supposed to believe?" He frowned, and then went pale. "What do you mean you know who I am. Who am I?" "You're the man who killed the Fisby Brothers, during a rigged card game." His eyes flicked to Bella. "A card game in which your husband was shot and killed." It was deathly silent in the room, which was all the confirmation Bennet needed. "They were wanted men, Julian." "Wanted?" His voice was so high he sounded like a girl. "Dead or alive," said Bennet. "There was a reward out for them." He smiled. "Can I put this pistol away now?" "They were wanted?" His voice cracked and Bennet thought he might actually cry for a few minutes. Bennet holstered his Colt and then reached into the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and extended it toward Julian. "This is a bearer's bond for the reward. Even though I was pretty sure you were the right man, I had to make certain. I am now." Julian reached for the paper and looked at it dumbly. "I thought it was murder," he sighed. "They were very bad men, Julian. I doubt anybody but someone as fast as you could have taken them. That was one of the things that tipped us off. I told another marshal about that pheasant, and he put it all together." He turned to Bella. "And if you were worried about taking that money off the table, don't be. Everybody at the table died. If anything it should have all been yours." She looked relieved. Having thrown her a bone, he couldn't resist asking a question. "It's none of my business Ma'am," he said. "But some of us can't help but be curious. You were there. You saw what happened. Your husband got killed when Julian called them for cheating. Yet ... here he is with you." Bella's hands went to her belly, as if to cup the child growing there. She blushed, initially, and then sat up straight. She stood, moving to stand in front of the marshal. Putting a finger between her lips she pulled her cheek to one side, obviously wanting him to look in her mouth. He did, seeing a gap in her otherwise white teeth and she let go. "My husband knocked that tooth out one night when he was drunk. He loosened several others at other times. My children routinely heard my screams from the bedroom, and he bet his own daughter in a poker game." Bennett's eyes softened. "Say no more, Ma'am," he said softly. "I'd best be on my way. It's a long way to home and I've been gone a long time." She looked at him frankly. "I thought you loved my stew," she said. "I wasn't play acting about that part," he admitted. "You are one fine cook, Ma'am." "I made biscuits tonight," she said. She seemed to have a sparkle in her eye now. "And we have butter now." "Really?" He sounded hopeful. "This is no fit night for a man to be traveling," she said. "Surely you can go on in the morning. That would give you a night in Wichita too." "Bella?" Julian's voice was shaking. She looked at him. He was holding out the paper Bennet had handed him. She took it and her eyes flitted over the text that said the bearer was to be paid three thousand dollars in gold by any bank it was presented to. It was signed by a name she'd never heard, but that was above the tiny letters "Director, United States Marshal Service." She handed it back to Julian, and then picked up the sheepskin jacket at her feet and held it out towards her daughter. "Becky?" she said, staring back into Bennett's eyes again. "Hang this up for Marshal Bennet and get him some food. He's staying the night." Bennett's eyes glanced toward the girl as she rose to do her mother's bidding. This time he couldn't keep in the gasp as he saw another gently rounded pregnant belly. The girl's cheeks pinked up and her eyes darted towards her brother. Bennet controlled his urge to look at the boy. Later that night, invited to sleep inside because of the cold, Bennet lay back on his bedroll, which was spread on a pile of hay that was quite comfortable. Again he marveled at the oddness of this very different little family. Becky's pregnancy hadn't come up in conversation, of course. The fact that she was sleeping with her brother on one side of the wall, while Julian and Bella were sleeping together on the other side pretty much suggested who had gotten the girl with child. He reflected on how they could have made him move on. Most people he knew wouldn't have even invited him down from his horse, much less inside for a hot meal and to stay the night. And that didn't even consider the fact that they had to know he'd see the girl's condition, and tumble to the truth of things. Feeling a bit strange, he decided it was none of his business. They were good people, all in all. During supper he'd gotten the details of the event that had brought them all together. He thought of Bella as brave now, and incredibly strong for a woman. She wasn't bitter, nor did her children seem to be. And Julian had tried to do the right thing. All things considered he was lucky to be alive. His last thoughts before he slipped into peaceful slumber were about how glad he was that, when he'd exposed that badge Julian hadn't been wearing his pistol belt. As fast as that boy was, things could have gone very badly. He imagined facing Julian's lighting fast draw. He almost shook his sleepy head. Julian wouldn't have drawn on him. He'd only fired before in self defense, when faced with almost certain death. Either way, he was glad he hadn't had wager his skill against the boy's. That might have been a very bad bet to make. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2009-06-15 Last Modified: 2012-09-06 / 09:19:24 am ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------