The Bad Bet by Lubrican

   Chapter One

   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 Two

   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
or 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 Three

   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."

   =======i======================

   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
anoter 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 Four

   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 stripes 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 Five

   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 Six

   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 Seven

   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 yolk 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 Eight

   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 Nine

   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 Ten

   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 Eleven

   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 of 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 Fran Jr.,
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 Twelve

   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 floated to the surface of the water and they both looked down
to see globs of something white appearing from below.  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 Thirteen

   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 Fourteen

   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 Fifteen

   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 Sixteen

   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 Seventeen

   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 Eighteen

   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 Nineteen

   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 Twenty

   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 Twenty-one

   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 Twenty-two

   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 Twenty-three

   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 turkey.  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 bird
took flight, moving right in front of Julian, about six feet off the
ground. 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 cartwheeled
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 turkey, 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 Twenty-four

   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 Twenty-five

   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 turkey 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 turkey, 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 to wager his skill against the
boy's.

   That might have been a very bad bet to make.



   The End
   
