The Blue Ridge country spread its glory to the sun, and in vesture of high summer, sparkled like an opal on the earth's buxom breast. In between the mountain ridges pale meadows stretched for many a mile; honeysuckle rose silvery and sweet of savor in the hot hazes; corn was kerning and each glowing hour lessened the green of it and added to the gold. Deep in these hills, surrounded by forests of climbing pines, fallow and fertile fields, the little town of Tarboro sunned itself and basked under the lazy weather.
Tarboro was no metropolis; its population barely exceeded four thousand souls; the highest building in the town was the courthouse, which possessed three floors. The top floor of this edifice housed the police department and the city jail. Life was neither rich nor unpleasant, and all in all, it was a happy town. In unseen corners sorrow lurked and suffering hid its head, but content was at doors windows and the yards smiled and chimed with the music of children.
There were lots of children. Indeed, maternity seemed the first business of the town. Ripe matrons suckled the race to come and young wives budded with motherhood-visible evidence of fucking done. Girls married young, with few entering wedlock unaware of the physical joys of sexual intercourse. The citizens rarely departed for distant towns and some of them had never once set foot beyond the limits of the narrow valley. For the most part they wed and bred and stayed to home, satisfied to live and die in the mountains of their birth. They made love and living upon the confines of their own graves, unimpressed with the pace and fury of the world outside. Yet there is evidence of change. The past does not dominate, as once it did; and the young folk pay scant attention to the thoughts and habits of the old.
The young are restless now. They congregate in the park, the town square and down where a wide creek, laden with sweet water from the Tabor, bubbles at the edge of town. Here, full of inarticulate rebellion, they pair off and pet and probe; they talk of love, politics and the promise of tomorrow. Here joy and laughter come free and unreserved; and here tears sometimes fall unseen and flow away to the distant sea.
Through deep lanes that wind between Tarboro and the creek, a young woman named Vera Yalton made her way toward Narcissus Road. She walked slowly, humming a childhood tune, and now and again, she paused to peer into the woods or out across the fields. Vera was twenty, slightly tall and roundly built. Her face was dark, but healthy and lovely. Her expression indicated character and power of feeling; her mouth was full and round of Up; and her brown eyes were lighted from some inner glow. Her stride was sure and feminine, her buttocks undulating with every step.
"Hey, Vera!" a masculine voice called.
She glanced toward a fenced meadow and recognizing the owner of the voice that had called to her, her lips widened in a welcome smile. She stopped and awaited his approach, calling back to him:
"Hello, Abel! What brings you this side of town?"
Abel Pierce was Vera's cousin. He lived with his widowed mother in a small house south of town and earned their keep by varied labors-a jack of all trades.
"I'm goin' to Larson's place," he said, falling in beside her. "He's hired me to repair his barn." He looked at her from the corner of his eyes and said: "What about you? Where you traipsing off to alone?"
"Narcissus Road," she answered; then looked at him and smiled.
"To see Ramsey Kirk, I reckon?" he said; and the happiness left his expression.
"He's ask me to marry him," she said, now looking straight ahead. "We're goin' to spend the day together, but he doesn't know it yet."
Abel's face was gloomy and jealousy smoldered in his sleepy, sulky eyes as he stared down at his cousin. But she looked forward and while in her mind there lurked some regret for his grief, her mouth wore a smile and her heart beat for another.
Abel Pierce stood six feet tall and was a thin but powerful and wiry man of twenty-six. The news that Vera intended to marry Ramsey Kirk had filled every ounce of him with jealousy and hatred. He had planned to keep Vera for himself. The thought of another man's cock in her cunt infuriated him. That was his property! He had screwed her for nearly a year, hadn't he? And she had loved it, hadn't she? What could she get from Ramsey Kirk that she couldn't get from him?
"What do you see in him, aside from the fact that he's rich?" he asked, bitterly.
"That has nothing to do with it!" she said, quickly. "Besides, he isn't really rich. I love him because I've got to. I love him for loving me."
"If that's your reason, you might as well marry me," he said, sharply. "Don't I love you? But I'm a poor laborer, with nothin' to offer but myself."
"You don't choose to understand, Abel. How can I explain? You know what it is to love."
"You know the friggin' answer to that!"
"Oh, Abel," she said, "don't take on so! I'm fond of you-you know that! But it's over between us. You'll find another girl and you'll be happy with her. Wait and see."
"Never! There was only you for me-yes, an' only me for you till Ramsey Kirk came along, with his big-city manners and bankful of money. Don't deny it! You was gettin' to love me fast. I know it. By the way you pushed it up to me every time I took you-by your eyelids fluttering when you let go-an' by your lips, cuddlin' one another till your mouth was like a strawberry; by the way your body trembled when I put my arms 'round you!"
"I wish you wouldn't say such things."
"I say what I know. Even my Ma knowed. When I'd ask her about us, she'd always say, 'Vera's for ye, son-I know th' signs!' An' you knowed it, too. Have you forgot how you could hardly wait for me to come in you and how you kept on begging me for more?"
"I liked making love with you," she said, "but I wasn't in love with you. Can't you see the difference, Abel?"
"That's all fancy nonsense," he argued, refusing to give up. "Why, if I was to drag you into them woods and ram it to you, you'd be comin' all over me in less than a minute.'"
She shook her head.
"You just won't understand."
"No, I'm dull-a regular bonified dumbbell. You can't tumble down the life I had built up, just by taking another man's name. But tell me this. It ain't much to ask. If he had never come along-?"
She thought before answering the trite question.
"That's a foolish question, Abel. He did come along and I do love him."
"Shut your mouth!" he said roughly. "I'll show you who you love!"
He suddenly swopped her up in his arms and carried her off the path and into the woods. She struggled frantically, hitting him about the head and face with her hands.
"Put me down, Abel! What do you think you're doing? Are you gone completely crazy?"
"You're the one that's gone completely crazy!" he snarled, stumbling and falling on top of her.
She tried to break away, but he gripped her wrists and held her arms tight against the ground. She glared at him, angry and fearful.
"And what will this prove?" she said, icily.
"Which of us is full of shit!" he said. "If you love him so much, then you won't respond to me. I'm bettin' you gonna blast-off in about five minutes. If you don't, then I'll never say nothing' or bother you again."
"You are crazy!" she said. "Now let me up! Let me up or I'm gonna scream."
He smiled defiantly.
"Go on and scream," he said. "Nobody'll hear you. But you'll be better off if you jus' relax an' enjoy it."
She glared into his eyes, now clouding with passion and desire.
"Alright," she said, grimly, with lips drawn, "get it over with! I'll neither scream nor fight; that's what you want me to do. But you'll get no satisfaction from me."
He laughed a terrible laugh.
"You wanna bet? Well, you jus' lay there and remain cold, if you can."
He quickly ruffled up her dress and forced her panties down toward her knees. She offered no resistance, but lay absolutely still; her eyes glaring hatred at him. He tugged at the panties until they were free of one leg, then, without bothering to remove them from the other leg, he forced his body between her thighs and unzippped his trousers. He fumbled about and extracted his cock, which was already fully gorged and pressed it roughly into her slit. As the crest forced its way between the lips of her cunt, she flinched and bit her lip. He held his cock in his hand and worked it round in her slit, seeking to produce sufficient moisture to enable him to freely enter her channel.
Vera, true to her promise, neither struggled nor cried out. She felt shame and humiliation and wanted to cry, but she was determined not to respond in any manner. But nature betrayed her. Her channel grew moist, allowing his tremendous staff to penetrate with ease. With one mighty thrust he was in her to the balls and she instinctively widened her thighs to accommodate him. He pumped furiously at first and then slowed, establishing a rhythmic stroke that finally turned her on. She fought the warm glowing feeling that swept over her, determined not to move a muscle; but the constant in and out movement set her on fire. He was doing what he always did to her, every time he got that big shaft inside her cunt: he was making her long for release through orgasm. Angry with herself now, she uttered a sob that was half moan.
"You sonofabitch!" she cried.
His answer was to increase the speed and pressure of his stroke. She could resist no longer. Her back arched and her hips began to churn; her lids fluttered and the passion centered itself between her legs.
"That's it, honey," he said, gasping for breath. "I knowed you'd love it, jus' like always. Now, come on-fuck me, honey! I got a load I been savin' jus' for you. I'm gonna fill your belly full of come! That's it-fuck me!"
She had to do it-her body screamed for release! She raised her legs and locked them across his back. Her arms embraced him, holding him tight against her breast. A million pin-pricks struck her body from head to toe and she let the charge of electricity gather for the great, powerful shock that would release her body from its pervasive longing. She reached the plateau of desire and quickly rose to the peak; her body trembled and shook under the impact; and her vagina contracted in wild, uncontrollable spasms.
"Come, Abel!" she cried, in between long, deep moans of pleasure. "I must have it! Let go, Abel, let go!"
And he responded, spurting into her with one final lunge. His body sank upon her in exhilarate relief. Then he withdrew his weakened rod from her and got to his feet. He wiped his cock indifferently with a handkerchief, put it inside his shorts and zipped his trousers.
"Now we both know what I knowed all alone," he said, triumphantly. "Love, the way you was talkin', is horse-shit! Go on-meet your new lover. Marry him! See if his money can make you feel like I jus' made you feel."
She sat up and carefully put on her panties.
"I never want to see you again!" she said, speaking calmly.
He looked down at her and laughed.
"I'll be late for work. See you sometime, Vera."
She saw him walk away, through the woods; he was whistling. She got up, straightened her clothes and hair and walked slowly toward the path.
Beyond the creek, at a bend in the highway that enters Tarboro from the north, is Narcissus Road; it is a narrow, gravel covered drive that comes to sudden halt before an old two-story stone house that stands in lonely isolation atop a sloping lawn. The sole purpose served by Narcissu Road is that of arrival at and departure from this stone dwelling. It was the property of Ramsey Kirk, a man who liked his privacy. That is, until he met and became enamored of Vera Yalton. Therefore, the days of his solitude were numbered.
Ramsey Kirk was a florid, quick-eyed, quick-tempered, resolute man of thirty-one. His straw-colored hair lay smooth and neat atop his head; his small moustache which in no way concealed a pleasant, sensuous mouth, had the hue of pale amber. His speech was brisk, usually direct and sometimes vulgar; the glance of his gray eyes was keen and he possessed a facility of mind that resulted in an air of importance. The mainspring of the man was ambition; and any touch of genius that he might be said to possess, appeared in the tact with which he kept out of sight a trait so apt to be unpleasant. Only one human being had ever heard him brag; and she was the woman who meant to marry him-Vera Yalton. She believed that every hair of his sleek head had virtue in it and marveled that he set his aims so low, not that he pitched them so high.
Today he stood in the door of his house and stared down the road, as if expecting someone to appear. Indeed, he half-expected and certainly hoped, that Vera would spend the day with him. He looked at his watch impatiently. She still was nowhere in sight; so he started down Narcissus Road to meet her along the way.
He had not gone more than two hundred yards when he saw Vera approaching in the distance. He hurried forward, waving his hand jubilantly above his head. She returned his distant greeting in the same manner.
"I am the luckiest man alive!" he exclaimed, as they came abreast of one another. He took her in his arms and kissed her. "I kept hoping you would come today; now here you are. I can hardly wait to get you in my house."
"I have heard of other women you have lured to your bed," she said, in playful mockery. "Do you plan to lead me astray, Sir?"
"No such thing!" he replied, grinning wolfishly. "I plan to fuck you bow-legged!"
"In that case," she said, laughing, "we had better hurry."
As they walked towards the house, he slipped an arm around her.
"I have never wanted any woman as much as I want you."
"Oh, you say that to all the women," she chided; then half-joking, half-serious: "I'll bet you said the very same to Ralph Horn's daughter!"
"Eva?" he frowned, glancing at her quickly. "So you have been listening to rumors, eh?"
"Of course I have!" she laughed. "What else could I do with them? I also heard that the Horns were once very important people around here."
He nodded.
"True. They helped to make American history at one time. Goes to show how time topples things. Now Ralph Horn's no better than a red radical and his daughter is little better."
"Did you use to see much of her, Ramsey?"
"Yes, I saw lots of her. She was a great study to me, always."
"She's lovely-I know that much."
"She is that!" he said, quick to agree. "Eva's quite a woman!"
"You sound as if you're still fond of her?"
"Do you remember what you told me you felt for Abel Pierce-your cousins? An easy sort of liking that might have developed into love if nothing else had happened? That's how I felt about Eva. We're very good friends now. I'm going there for Sunday dinner."
Vera's eyes clouded, but she uttered praise.
"She is a beautiful thing to see on horseback. Does she like horses?"
"She does. She lives for them in her queer way. They are her first friends. I know what you meant: it's a pleasure to see her mounted."
"I'll bet you don't mean horses," she said, again laughing. "Tell me the truth, Ramsey-how far did you get with her? Did you-well-get as far as you have gotten with me?"
"That's not a fair question," he hedged. "I didn't ask whether you went to bed with your cousin."
"True," she said, "but you certainly knew I'd gone to bed with someone. A woman can't pretend virginity with a man. Once the hymen is broken, he knows it. But a woman has nothing like that to judge by where a man is concerned."
He laughed and drew her closer to him, causing her to trip over her own feet.
"So neither of us were virgins," he said. "Now let's get in the house and make use of our past experiences ... "
CHAPTER TWO
Abel Pierce and his mother dwelt in a small house on the south side of town. He arrived home to learn that his mother had invited guests for dinner, a thing that did not inspire joy in his heart. He was in no mood for company, having worried himself all day over his virtual rape of Vera Yalton; but it was too late to do anything about the dinner guests.
Old Abner Barkell and his son, Richard, had already arrived when Abel got home. They were an unusual pair, for father and son. They lived almost a mile away, at the end of the valley, near the railway bridge. Abner Barkell's working years had ceased and he passed through the latter phases of his existence under the shadow of the mighty steel structure he had had helped to build. He knew the bridge as a watchmaker knows a watch or an engineer his engine. Abner's son was also employed by the South Western Railroad and pursued his business of signalman in a box beyond the bridge, where the railroad splits and a branch winds north-west to Ashville. He appeared to be a youthful copy of his father. Richard had the same long neck and small, amiable countenance. His hair was thin and of a nondescript brown. His forehead was better developed than his parent's and he possessed more intelligence. Yet to him, viewed from an outer standpoint, life was chiefly matter for amusement. He was still young; he had never plunged into the art of living seriously and never intended to do so. His philosophic attitude was unconscious, but constitutional. It tended to utmost simplification of life and its selfishness did not specially appear, since it's obvious obligations were few. The signalman's work was child's play to one of his intellect and gave him leisure for his favorite amusement: fucking girls.
Abel greeted both of them; then he joined the supper party. All ate heartily, but darkness fed with the host and he returned nor more than surly grunts and nods to the speeches, jests and questions of his friends. Richard knew the trouble and avoided the subject; but old Abner was ignorant of the matter and unwittingly touched it.
"Danged if'n I ken keep hold o' what's happenin'!" Abner said, with his mouth full of apple dumpling. "I hear tell yistiddy that purtty cousin o' yourn has took up with Ramsey Kirk. A fine man without a doubt, but I was thinkin' all along you'd hitch her, Abel."
Richard tried to kick his father under the table; but, instead, his shoe grazed Abel's shin.
"Let him talk," Abel said; he appreciated the situation and smiled grimly. "Yes-Vera's took up with Kirk. But there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip."
"Dreadful thing she done," Abel's mother put in. "As good as married to Abel there; then that smooth talker shakes her out of herself and darkens her judgment."
Abner Barkell spoke.
"A coorious fashion of man, Kirk is. Who'd think a man so young could rise so high?"
"He ain't got but one thing," said Mrs. Pierce, who smarted for her son, "and that's money."
"Money's like charity," Abner Barkell answered, sucking his cheeks. "It kivvers a heap."
"I don't blame him for having money," Abel said. "We all try to get our share, includin' me. But I sure in hell blame him for comin' between Vera and me. I say it was a damned dirty trick and the last word's not spoken yet. I'll marry the woman; and you'll live to see it."
His mother regarded him nervously, yet not without admiration.
"That's the sort he is," she said to old Abner. "Jus' like his Pa afore him."
"Yes-I 'member him very well-a size larger than Abel, weren't he?"
"Six foot three," she answered proudly, "And always hungry for two men's work."
"Yet death took him like a fly," murmured the old man.
"'Twas steam power killed him," she said, again proudly. "I mind how they said that nothing less than a traction engine could have done it."
The recollection appeared to comfort the woman. She fetched coffee from the stove and filled their cups.
"So you still intend to get Vera for yourself?" Richard said, between gulps of coffee. "That might be easier said than done, Abel."
"All's fair in love, according to the old saying," Abel replied, with smoldering eyes.
"Couldn't prove it by me," Richard said, chuckling. "Females don't touch me; but you-you was always peeping over the wall at the girls, when we went to school."
They sat and talked until father and son prepared to depart. Abel accompanied them for half a mile, then, with a short "goodbye," took himself and his somber thoughts back home. Much had happened in his mind and he reasoned what to do. From the standpoint that all was fair in love, he had started and swiftly lost himself in darkness. His conscience and his intentions were at war. In confidence, he spoke to his mother and revealed a shadow of his purpose. "T'ain't right, the way he done," Abel said. "And I don't aim he should get away with taking her. Maybe when she knows the truth of him, she'll come to her senses."
"What are you thinking, son?"
"Do you remember the thing that happened to Minnie Masters?"
"That's long forgot."
"People believe it yet here and there. I do for one."
Henny Pierce shook her head and looked very grave. She worried for her son.
"Trouble will come of this, Abel. Why, it's been three years since that poor girl drowned herself. You'll never bring up that. He might set the law on you."
Abel did not answer. It seemed to him that his last hope lay here. He knew Vera and felt a vague belief that if the breath of this vanished scandal could be revived and reach her, something might come of it.
A week later, while in town, he encountered Vera Yalton on the street. He was unloading a trailer of farm implements for the hardware store when she came by. She tried to avoid him and was already about to cross the square when he stood beside her, his hand on her arm. She twisted free of his touch, and looking disdainfully at him, she said:
"What do you want?"
"I want to apologize for what I done," he said, putting on a contrite expression for her benefit.
"Save your breath!" she replied and attempted to walk around him; but he blocked her path.
"Please, Vera!" he said, searching her eyes for some indication that she might relent in her attitude toward him. "I am sorry for what I done. But that ain't all. I'm troubled and more than troubled-but for you, not me."
"I'm not interested in anything you have to say," she said, but made no motion to leave him.
"I can understand your feelings," he said, "and I don't blame you. But there is something I think you ought to know about Ramsey Kirk ..."
Her eyes flashed anger and resentment at the mention of her lover's name.
"Neither you nor anyone else can speak ill of him," she said.
"A dead woman might," he replied. "But you're right-not me. Don't look like that. I don't say everybody believed it."
"That won't do," she answered slowly and her mellow voice sank to lower depths. "You've said a thing and there's no unsaying it. You said it deliberate. You meant to say it. I want to know why?"
"It slipped out."
"Well, go on. Say it all. What else?"
"I'm sorry I spoke," he said. "It was something that happened before you came here. A stupid rumor-nothing more. Forget what I said."
"Gladly," she answered. "Now go about your business and let me do the same."
"I only wish to make you happy. Very."
"Very well, then. Make me happy-get out of my sight!"
He returned to the trailer and began removing the farming implements from it. She walked on, with her thoughts working. The word uttered had indeed been matter for scorn and laughter; but when the laughter ceased and the scorn turned cold, something remained. She was a proud woman and the defects common to her qualities she did not lack. In her hot and loving heart existed ample room for jealousy. It occurred to her that Ramsey Kirk had lived for thirty years before he heard her name. He was very handsome. He had confessed a friendship with and a liking for Ralph Horn's daughter.
Was he still making love to Eva?
And this other girl, dead now-what about her? Could she have really been mistaken about Ramsey? Not the fucking-that wasn't important. After all, she had done her share of screwing around. But the dead girl-how did she die? This crude poison stole into her crude spirit and her unsophisticated heart began to suffer. The simplest, primal emotions awoke. She writhed at this sudden shadow from her sweetheart's past, but did not entirely yield to it. Finally she flung the thought from her with resolution and continued on her way.
Abel saw her go and understood. She was a woman with a large heart-built in one chamber. Room there was for a single mastering interest, but her mind lacked machinery to weigh, to contrast, or to calculate. If he could separate her from Ramsey Kirk, she would not go back to him. Half idly, half deliberately, half with intention and half by the accident of opportunity, he had called upon a story long dead. The mother of the girl who had drowned in the Creek still lived and still swore that Kirk was the seducer and murderer. Abel felt no shame in reviving the story, though it had been adjudged untrue. He very easily made himself believe it and so justified his conduct to his conscience. He told himself that he was doing right; and secretly he hoped that as a result of his words, there might fall blows between himself and Ramsey. He itched to deliver them, to fight for the woman and make good his claim. A subtler course, however, awaited him. Days were at hand that would see him suffer blows, not strike them and reach his object by submission rather than assault.
Ralph Horn's place was situated due west of Tarboro and occupied sixty acres. The farmhouse itself stood on a wide, level crest and looked due east over Tarboro to the higher hills beyond.
Now, on a Sunday morning, the daughter of the house busied herself in preparation for the day's activities. Her parents were at church; the house was silent and the hour was still. Sunshine streamed into Eva's bedroom where she sat in a pale blue dressing-gown, doing her hair. She was all woman, loved admiration, loved ease and loved praise. With the successes of a country girl she had been long familiar. Her courage, her skill in horsemanship and her knowledge of the country enabled her to achieve many sporting triumphs. She had hunted since the fearless age of childhood, and with years, her nerve never faltered. Yet behind it lay self-control and judgment. She took no needless risks.
The woman's beauty was astounding. Her face had small features, but the gray eyes were large and lustrous. Her mouth was framed by full, sensuous lips of unusual brilliance. Her gaze could be subdued to bewitching softness and her voice possessed none of that hard intonation common in the out-door-girl. She even sounded a note of helplessness sometimes and it made strangers seek occasion to aid her.
Next to riding, Eva horn best liked the exercise of walking. She was a good mountaineer and enjoyed the life had led; but her enthusiasm for it diminished as she grew older. Her days were uneventful. Certain romantic flings had lighted her existence, but only one-with a handsome young doctor-personally interested her.
Doctor Andrew Clauson was not native to the Blue Ridge country, but came there from upstate New York. Why he settled in Tarboro is a question he never answered, except to say that he liked the climate, the terrain and the people. He certainly liked Eva Horn-that was as plain as the nose on his face; and Eva never tried to conceal her fondness for him. On their first date he introduced her to the joys of cunnilingus, opening her eyes to the ecstatic possibilities of intercourse. But he did not attempt to fuck her that night, contenting himself with a hand produced orgasm. Her hand, of course; and she marveled at the power of his ejaculation, the distance covered by the spurts of creamy-like fluid. On their second outing he introduced her to the ancient, enjoyable art of fellatio; and he shot off in her mouth. He also finger-fucked her and once jabbed her hymen so hard she screamed. On their third date, with her unspoken consent, he introduced her to herself-and she became a woman. He mounted her gently, telling her to help him; that she should consciously and deliberately attempt to break her hymen by thrusting upwards, so the act would be remembered as something done by rather than to her. It hurt, of course, but not as badly as she had expected; the pain quickly gave way. He had two orgasms before she had one, but she didn't mind; it thrilled her to know fucking her gave him such deep, physical pleasure. Thereafter they slept together at regular intervals and Eva was truly happy for the first time in her life. The doctor asked her father if he had any objections to their getting married. Ralph Horn gave them his blessing and the wedding date was announced. Then tragedy struck. Doctor Andrew Clauson, anxious to keep a date with Eva, was riding at a dead run when the horse suddenly swerved, stumbled and fell. The animal escaped with minor injuries, but Doctor Clauson was dead of a broken neck. That was the year Ramsey Kirk came to Tarboro and moved into the house at the end of Narcissus Road.
Eva liked good looks in the male and amused herself with ideas about men. She had long yearned for Ramsey Kirk and now, God willing! she planned to marry him. This morning she carefully prepared herself, knowing Ramsey Kirk would be coming home with her parents; her father had invited him and Orlando Slanning for Sunday dinner. The latter desired her almost as much as she desired Ramsey Kirk.
In the matter of Slanning, the love was all on his side and he had been twice rejected; in Kirk's case the desire rested with her, and though the fires were flaming lowly once or twice, his eyes, set on other things, had failed to understand her meaning, or guess her regard. She was not angry with him, for he had not slighted her. He had merely missed the possibility she indicated. There was no immediate hurry. Such sensuous love as she could feel went out to him. She liked the clean, brisk, handsome body of him; the high color of him; the voice of him; his courage and even his religious faith in the principles and dogmas of that church on which he trusted. She knew he had a temper too and would dominate. The belief that he must be strong enough to control her held some fascination in it. She had met no other man who could be trusted to do so.
Her life was unsettled and not happy since their first meeting. She pictured herself his wife presently and sometimes she pretended with herself that he was waiting for an opportune moment to propose. But common-sense laughed at this conceit. She knew it reality that he loved her not at all; yet, since he loved nobody else, she supposed he might be brought finally to love her if she played her part. Then had come the startling news that he was engaged to Vera Yalton.
Eva had considered the situation in all its bearings and taken the trouble to glean particulars concerning Vera. The matter filled her life. She felt no sympathy for any but herself and hope was not dead when she considered the mean nature of this engagement. She imagined possibilities, remembered the old rumor concerning Minnie Masters; thought that it was a lie; wished that it had been true; doubted whether it would influence a sane woman in any case. Perhaps it might already be too late to turn him.
Today, however, he was coming to dinner and the matter of his engagement must be touched upon. His happiness did not enter into her calculations; only her own concerned her. Him she could not force into matrimony; but at the bottom of her heart was a chilly resolution as yet scarcely revealed to herself. Eva meant that if she did not marry him, no other woman should.
In this frame of mind she dressed her wonderful hair and put on her Sunday dress. It consisted of a dark skirt and showy silk blouse.
She was in the parlor five minutes before her father and mother drove home from Tarboro and noted that Ramsey Kirk sat in the back seat of the Horn vehicle. Her parents had picked him up after church. The other visitor was also of the company. Orlando Shinning, who came on horseback, had met the car as it turned into the private road. Orlando was a mill owner's son and lived at his home near Tarboro. Of late life took a serious turn and Orlando learned that his father was dying of cancer. Soon he must bear on his own shoulders the burden of 'Slanning's.' as the mill was called.
Eva rather admired Orlando; his abundant energy interested her and his vanity caused her amusement. But she could not love him, because he lived only for pleasure and to spend a better man's money. His father had spoiled him since his childhood and now reaped the reward in mental anxiety which added a gloom to his death-bed. Orlando, having tried business for one year, abandoned the office and became a sportsman. He possessed no talent and least of all talent for hard work. He was wax in the hand of any man or woman of character, but entertained a lively conceit of himself and honestly imagined that few young fellows of twenty-six had justified their existence so well. He patronized everybody save Ralph Horn; but the stout, taciturn farmer, in that he was father of Eva, always won a civility absurdly obvious by comparison with Slanning's usual condescending manners. Yet he possessed virtues. He was generous and good-tempered save where his vanity happened to be threatened.
Eva greeted both men and shook hands with them. Slanning took his horse to the stable and she was left for a moment with Kirk.
"I heard you have gotten yourself engaged?" she said.
"True," he answered. "Her name is Vera Yalton."
"But this is wonderful news!" she exclaimed. "Why ever didn't you tell me, Ramsey?"
"I ought to have," he said, apologetically. "I was going to tell you today."
She took his hand warmly and pressed it.
"I hope you'll be very, very happy, Ramsey."
"Thank you, Eva," he said, adding: "Just wait until you meet her! Then you'll see how lucky I am."
Suddenly Eva gave a gasp, produced a handkerchief, put it to her eyes and rushed away from him into the house.
Ramsey stared uneasily and was glad that nobody had seen her. At dinner, however, she appeared calm, smiling, bright as usual.
Ralph Horn carved the roast beef. He was a blonde-haired, fat man of fifty-five and his daughter had received her wide gray eyes from him. All through dinner he watched the two men, observing first one and then the other. One of them was destined to be his son-in-law-but which?
The farmer and his wife respected Ramsey Kirk and Mrs. Horn knew that Eva did more than respect him. At one time the parents had discussed him as a possible husband for their only child. But Ramsey showed little inclination in that direction, while the persistent Slanning became more and more apparent. Like the rest of the world, Ralph Horn perceived him to be a slight man; nevertheless, he now wanted Orlando for his daughter and was doing what he could to help the match. He knew the young man's weakness, but he also knew Eva's strength and felt satisfied that, once married, his daughter would take the whip hand as a matter of course.
After dinner the men walked in the garden and Eva went with them; but Mrs. Horn stayed indoors, put her feet on a foot-stool and read the Bible.
Ramsey Kirk was first to leave, stating that he must get back to Tarboro for his class. On Sundays, in the afternoon, he taught a group of boys a course in conduct and religion. And he enjoyed the work.
Ralph Horn gave Eva the keys to the car and told her to drive him back to town. When they were gone, Orlando talked to the farmer.
"How wonderful Eva is," he said, "Not a girl within miles of her. But I didn't tell you these things. I just wish to God she'd take fancy to me!"
"You'll have to do your talking to Eva, not God," Ralph Horn answered.
Orlando changed the subject, realizing that there was nothing he could say or do that would change anything. Eva was obviously head-over-heels in love with Ramsey Kirk. He wondered if she had laid him yet? Probably. God! what he wouldn't give to put himself between her round, tapering thighs and throw his shaft into her cunt! He had fondled her breasts and once, following a dance, she had allowed him to stimulate her with his fingers- but that was as close as he ever got to her. He was forced to drop his load elsewhere, so he kept on friendly terms with several girls who liked to screw. When Eva refused his advances, he carried his tensions to one of the girls on his list. Each time he screwed one he pretended it was Eva beneath him ...
He talked on and on, jumping from one subject to another; and he only ceased speaking when an inarticulate sound revealed the fact that Ralph Horn had gone to sleep.
Orlando muttered "shit!", stood up, then went to meet Eva, who was just returning.
"Kirk's a real nice man," Orlando said, knowing her weakness. "What a glutton for work! Imagine teaching religion ...!"
"I'm glad you admire him," she said.
"Observation isn't admiration, Eva," he corrected her, taking pleasure in the situation. "Don't put words in my mouth."
"Thank you for the lesson in semantics," she said, scornfully. "But don't pull that crap with me. You either admire the man or you envy him-otherwise, why the observation? I notice he doesn't observe you ... "
Slanning turned away both puzzled and annoyed.
"Fuck the man!" he thought.
CHAPTER THREE
Abel Pierce was leaning over the gate in front of his house, loafing and thinking, when a car drove up and stopped. He peered into the car and recognized the driver.
"Howdy, Miss Horn," he called and walked toward the car. Leaning his arm on the window-door, he asked: "Anything I can do for you, Miss Eva?"
"Are you out of work, Abel?"
He shook his head. "Plenty doing, Miss, but-"
She wondered at what might induce a spirit of depression in this man. Laboring people did not win her sympathy. She regarded them as necessary, but not more interesting than a plough or a drill. That such a man as Pierce could be either much uplifted, or downcast, seemed absurd to her.
"What's the matter with you?" she asked.
"Nothin' particular," he said, frowning. "Jus' low-like that's all."
"I'm sorry you are troubled," she said and Abel looked surprised, for he knew well enough that Eva Horn was considered a hard, selfish woman. He wondered now what had brought her to his house. He wasn't long in finding out, for she suddenly asked:
"Abel, do you know a woman named Vera Yalton?"
His lips tightened, but other than this his expression remained the same. He recollected how rumor had once linked Ramsey Kirk with Eva Horn. Something urged him to speak openly.
"I do, yes; she's the woman engaged to Ramsey Kirk."
"You sound as if you disapprove," Eva said, testing and probing. She had to learn just how matters stood with him, in his own mind, or give up the idea of using him. "Do you have any reason to oppose the wedding, Abel?"
"A very good reason. I thought Vera Yalton was gonna marry me."
"Had she promised you?"
"Not exactly, but as good as. I'd come to feel it was to be-so had my Ma. It was clear like without words, if you know what I mean. If I'd a spoken 'fore she seed him, she'd have said 'yes.' But, like a damn fool, I didn't speak."
"You men are sheep in such matters."
"Ramsey Kirk wasn't. He courted her like a fire courts a dry forest. I was workin' in Ashville for a week, an' when I comed home they was engaged."
"You would like to have her back, wouldn't you?"
He gave her a sharp look, then narrowed his eyes and said: "I'd also like to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but it ain't likely to happen. But what's any of this to you?"
"I have my reasons," she said, "but we can't discuss the matter here. Where are you working tomorrow?"
"Ain't give it no thought, to tell the truth. Jus' don't feel like workin' no'how."
"Then take the day off, Abel," she said, "and consider yourself employed by me. Do you know where Clifford's Rock is located?"
He was puzzled more than ever now.
"Reckon everybody in these hills knows where it is," he said. "But why-what are you gettin' at, Miss Eva?"
"Meet me there tomorrow morning around ten o'clock," she said. "I'll pay you a full day's wages."
"Just for bein' there?" he asked, suspicion in his voice.
"No," she said, "I want to talk with you, Abel-about your girl and Ramsey. You don't want her to marry him do you? Well, I think I can figure how to break the engagement. Will you come?"
"I'll come, Miss," he said, "but you got no call to pay me for that."
"Suit yourself about that," she said. "I thought you needed the money. But," she cautioned, "you mustn't tell anyone your are meeting me. Understand?"
Leaving him to reflect on this strange appointment, Eva started her car and drove away. He stood for a long time looking after her with his mind full of possibilities and theories. Of a superstitious spirit, he felt strongly how greater powers than his own were taking up the thread of his life and about to weave their proper pattern into it. The object of Eva he already suspected. Even as he in secret had cast about for some stout aid against his rival, so it seemed that she too had similarly sought. And she had found him. He stared out at the chance which had brought them together, as though it was a physical thing and could be seen. He guessed that she must also be using her brains assiduously just then; and he was right. While he debated slowly and solidly, Eva Horn's swifter intelligence covered wide countries and attacked the problem from a hundred different stand-points.
Eva was vitally alive to the exceeding danger of the thing she had planned; but therein lay its call. The game was worth the gamble, for possible success would justify the risk of possible failure. At best a bold move might win Ramsey; at worst she could only stand with respect to him where she now stood. Failing actual possession of him, nothing mattered. His opinion of her was of no importance-excepting in the event of marriage. In any other relationship hate was as welcome to her as indifference. There must, however, be no danger of truth escaping to poison success after the event, if success came. Therefore her first determination was better to study Abel Pierce when next they met and learn whether indeed he might be found trustworthy and reliable for such a task.
She arrived at Clifford's Rock before him and came on horseback. She had made the appointment to coincide with her daily ride, so no one would think anything unusual in her going. She tethered the horse and sat down, waiting.
She did not have long to wait. He came trudging up the hill towards her and tipped his hat as he came near.
"I'm sorry if I'm late, Miss."
"No matter," she said, smiling. "You're here-that's the important thing. Now sit down and listen."
"Thank you, Miss."
He sat down beside her, tossing his hat to the side
"You're fond of sex, aren't you?" she asked.
He stared at the unexpected question, grinned and scratched his head.
"That's a mild way to put it, Miss," he said, eyes twinkling with humor. "I figure if God made anything better He took it to heaven with Him. He sure didn't leave it down here for us to fool around with."
Eva responded with a deep, throaty laugh. Then she studied him for a moment, thinking she had never really looked at him before. His dark face was handsome as well as mournful and his eyes were not only restless, but also intelligent. Her hopes increased and she felt a little drawn to him.
"I ask for a reason," she said. "Tell me about Vera-is it sex you feel for her, or something more?"
The question did not make him uncomfortable, only the source. He had never discussed such things with a stranger before and certainly not a female stranger. But he knew why they were there and the knowledge made it easier for him to speak. At the same time he observed that she was quite an attractive and desirable woman herself.
"I ain't denyin' that sex is part of it," he said, speaking slowly. "I'd be lying if I did. But with Vera it's more-lots more."
"What about her-does she enjoy sex, Abel?"
He hesitated now. That was a loaded question. If he answered truthfully, it would be an open admission that he had fucked Vera. Otherwise, how could he answer the question at all?
"I don't see that that has got anything to do with anything," he hedged.
"Oh, come now!" she said, waving her hand. "If we are to be allies, we must be absolutely honest with each other. I am not asking the question to pry into your private life, but to obtain facts on which to formulate a plan of action that will succeed. To set your mind at ease, I will tell you that I enjoy sex and for itself alone. It is important to know about a woman, because one cannot manipulate a frigid woman with the same logic one uses successfully with a passionate woman. Surely you can see the difference?"
"Vera is a passionate woman," he said, deciding to play the game all the way.
"And you say this from your own personal knowledge?"
"I do."
"It seems a pity," she said, "that the woman you love and who loved you-"
"I know," he broke in. "Now, you listen to me. I know why we're here together. I ain't educated like some, but I ain't stupid either. No need to wind into this business so cautious and careful. I ain't ashamed of the hot, naked thing in my heart, whatever else I may be. I'd give my eternal soul ten thousand times over to be the father of children by that woman-that's how I stand."
Eva drew in her breath sharply. Terrific vigor marked his grating, longing accents. Like the gigantic breath of an ocean wind they came and smote the listener.
"I'm glad you spoke like that," she said. "You're a man. We are at the heart of the matter now. You must have what you want and I'll help you get it."
"Can you?"
"Can you?"
"Yes, I believe so. We're merely male and female over this business. You, who know what you feel, can probably guess why I'm here and why I speak so plainly."
"Yes, I know."
"Say it then. Say it with words," she answered. "I like the way you tore the thing out of your heart and showed it to me raw. Don't be shy of plain words. Talk to me as if you were talking about me behind my back-not with a woman, but with another man."
"I don't think I could do that," he said.
"At any rate you know?" she asked.
"Maybe. I suppose you want the man-only within the bounds of-"
"Without bounds," she said, cutting him off. "Since you're shy, I'll say it. It's interesting for me to meet a man like you. I don't feel you're a man, for that matter, but just a hot hunger loose on two legs. All right-so am I. I want Ramsey Kirk every bit as much as you want that woman."
"You ain't afraid of words either then?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," she answered and he believed her. "Tell me, Abel-how far would you go to stop this marriage?"
"I've told you: I'd go to raging hell to stop it!"
"What did you mean to do about it before I met you?"
He looked doubtful.
"All be fair in love, according to- "
"Don't spout twaddle," she said impatiently. "We've got beyond that. This thing is your life, it isn't my life, but it's the salt of my life. I can live without Ramsey Kirk, but to have him would make my life a great deal better worth living. You understand that?"
He nodded. Then expressed doubt.
"I'm not certain I do," he said.
"Then I'll demonstrate it for you," she said and as he stared awe-stricken, she began removing her clothes. "Help me with these boots," she said, lifting her leg.
He tugged at the boot until it came free, then she presented him with the other one. With boots removed, Eva quickly stepped out of her riding pants. Then she removed her underpanties and stood exposed before him. Her abdomen protruding slightly, giving her a more desirable saddle. The golden fluff atop her cunt looked neat and even and disappeared into a triangle between her round, firm thighs.
"Does looking at me make you passionate, Abel?"
He gulped and nodded.
"It sure as hell does!" he said, eyes riveted on her joy box.
"Then show me," she answered. "Let's see the size of your manhood."
"Look, Miss," he said, his voice hoarse and threatening, "I ain't the kind of man you can fool around with this way. If you're thinkin' to tease and excite me and do nothin' more, you better dress yourself right now."
Her only answer was to remove her blouse and bra. Then she cupped her breasts and stood before him defiantly, legs slightly parted. He stared at her nipples, then lowered his eyes to the space between her thighs and looked at the pink lips of her slit. He swallowed hard and ran his tongue along his lips.
"Well, Abel, where is your manhood? Here I stand, naked and unprotected. What are you going to do about it? I'm beginning to doubt that you have an implement worthy of a man between your legs," she taunted him.
He scrambled to his feet and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"O.K., lady!" he growled, "you're askin' for it. Now let's see if you can take it as well as you can dish it out."
He forced her to the ground and as she lay on her back watching him, he removed his trousers and shorts. Her eyes widened in surprise at the size of his weapon. God! she thought-like a stud! She gasped as he threw himself between her thighs and brought his chest down upon her breasts. She was about to aid him by reaching for his cock, but he did not wait for her. Taking his rigid staff into his own hand he directed it into her softness and thrust it home with one great lunge. It was painful, but the pain excited her; she wrapped her arms over his shoulders and held him firmly. Then, to enjoy every single inch of his tremendous rod, she raised her legs and locked them over his back.
"You are indeed a man, Abel!" she cried in his ear. "You've got enough down there for two men."
"And how many women?" he asked, thrusting deep and banging into her womb.
She moaned loudly and clung fiercely to him, churning her hips slowly.
"Just one woman!" she groaned in ecstatic pleasure. "I've got it all-oooh, yes-it's wonderfully big and hot and hard. Now make it do something-"
He pumped and pounded, driving as deep as he could and she gave back as good as she got. Her passion was explosive and demanding and he had to let go.
"Get ready, honey," he warned her. "I'm gonna shoot-hold on to the top of your head!"
"I'm ready!" she said, churning even harder. "Give it to me, daddy! That's-O, yes-sssss! Mygodalmight-eee! I'm coming, too! Fuck me harder ... harder ... uh-uh-ohther-er-er-ere!"
He emptied his insides into her gripping, hungry, hot cunt and she went into a spasmic fit. Then they lay wrapped together, soaking in each other's juices and enjoyed the afterglow of their frenzied passion.
"Did you like me?" she asked, finally.
He nodded and rolled off of her.
"You really know how to fuck," he said. "I felt like I was never gonna stop comin'."
"What sort of woman is this Vera Yalton?" she asked, getting back to the original purpose of their meeting. "Aside from sex, I mean."
He thought about it for a few moments before speaking.
"A truth-loving, fierce sort of woman," he said, "a woman as can do only one thing at a time and see one thing and love one thing at a time."
"Hmmmm," she said, thoughtfully. "That simplifies matters somewhat. All we need is a lever of doubt-"
"I've already dropped one drop of poison," Abel said.
"Tell me."
"You know the story of Minnie Masters-her that drowned herself and her child in the creek?"
"Nobody ever believed that."
"I did-always. And a right few other folks. What if it was true?"
"He's not that sort of man."
"Every man's that sort of man, come time and chance and his fire up. The woman's mother believed it, for she cussed Ramsey in the public square the day her daughter was buried. Well, that woman's alive."
"You hope to get Vera to believe this?"
"It'd shake her if I could."
"Is it strong enough?"
"For Vera, yes, I reckon so. You mean it wouldn't be strong enough for you?"
"That doesn't matter," Eva said. "Supposing you're wrong and she laughs at it?"
"She did laugh at it-comin' from me. But it was a left-handed laugh. I know her every sound."
Eva started putting on her clothes. She was weighing the matter for every angle. When they were both fully dressed, she said:
"If he had done it and confessed it, that wouldn't make her give him up; but if he denied it and she was positive he lied-"
She stopped, remained silent for a moment and then continued.
"The thing must be proved to her mind-thrust and stamped into it. You saying it isn't enough. Try and make other people believe it too. If she finds a dozen who believe it, she will begin to doubt. Then she will ask him?"
"And he will deny it," said Pierce.
"That's what I know and you don't," Eva said. "He might not deny it. If the thing fell like a thunderbolt and he was angry, he wouldn't deny it. He would be furious that anybody alive could dare even to raise the question."
"What's to do then?"
"Evidence. Suppose this old woman was able to say that her daughter accused Ramsey with her last breath and then went out to the river. Very likely that is what happened."
Abel Pierce looked at her face. It was beautiful beyond believe and flushed with excitement.
"The old woman would swear to anything, no doubt," he said.
"Tell the girl's relatives-the dead girl, I mean-that it's well known Ramsey Kirk ruined her and sent her to her grave. Tell everybody. It should be known. I know! There's to be a pony race at Halstock Pond next week. Can you be there?"
"I've got to be there, to help with the work," he answered.
"Ramsey will be there, among the owners," she said, "and I'm going to ride over too. A crowd always comes. That's your chance for the first shot."
"It'll serve no purpose unless Vera is there," Abel said.
"She'll be there," Eva assured him. "He's going to introduce me to her. A great chance to strike the first blow."
"Before lots of people?"
"The more the merrier."
"Then what?"
"I'll do my part. I'll console him in secret. I'll believe nothing against him. I may even lose my temper and beat you across the face before everybody. Don't be surprised if I do."
"You won't have to," Abel said, having thought it over. "He'll probably attack me himself."
"So much the better," she answered. "A few bruises don't matter if you have Vera to kiss them well. Ramsey's an exceedingly religious sort of man, but he's got a temper. He may be patient, or he may take the law into his own hands. And you might remind him that he did confess the truth to you. Stick to that through thick and thin. A lie is often just as hard to disprove as the truth is to establish. Let a thing be repeated often enough and people will not only begin to believe it, they will make others believe it."
She turned to her horse.
"Give me a hand," she said.
He held his palm for her; her foot touched it and she was in the saddle.
"Don't waste time," she concluded. "This love between them-what is it? Only a few weeks old at best. Our powder and shot is rather scanty, so we mustn't throw any away."
He nodded and she rode away. Abel too moved homeward. He felt that the woman was far too clever for him, that he was to be her tool rather than her accomplice in this infamy. Yet he knew that she had, at least in one respect, put herself into his power.
"If I go down on it, she does too," he thought; and the decision calmed him.
CHAPTER FOUR
On a warm, dry morning one week later, men and women of various ages, some riding and some afoot, converged upon Halstock Pond. Halstock Pond was actually on the farm property of Judd Halstock and formed a part of the north quarter. Here, each autumn, the farmers and merchants gathered to witness and participate in a series of horse races. Over the years the races had increased in popularity. Now people came from every direction and in the case of many, from long distances. Vera Yalton was there, as expected, but not with Ramsey Kirk; he was busy with his horses, preparing for the first race. Eva Horn, on horseback, trotted about, escorted by Orlando Slanning and a few other young sportsmen.
A man who looked eighty years old, but was in reality some ten years less, discoursed with Abner Barkell upon the event of the day.
"They's sickened th' whole idee," he said. "In th' earlier time, when we fust begun th' races, they was some sense to it. Oh, we had us plenty o' jugs o' corn liquor, sure 'enough-I ain't denyin' that. But racin' was th' main bizness. Now look at it! A gatherin' o' fornicators! Caint shake a bush without findin' some young buck humpin' away."
Abner Barkell nodded approval and a farmer, who had joined them, spoke:
"Ev'ry word's gospel, Ned. Nothin' more'n ameetin' place for on-righteous contrivance. I don't know what's to become o' the younger generation."
Ned Perryman's voice rose and his dark eyes flashed, he believed, not without reason, that immorality was leading the world to damnation.
"Hardly a chile born any more what knows his own Pa!"
His grand-daughter Jane, a tall, tan-faced and angular young woman, stood beside him.
"Hush, grandpa," she said. "We all know you to be a real Christian man, but it's vain to let things upset you so. We can't change it."
"Justice never do come out top, Jane, less by chance it's stronger'n th' other, which seldom happens," remarked Abner Barkell.
As the old men talked and grumbled, Jane searched the crowd with anxious eyes. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of Richard Barkell. He had asked her to spend the afternoon with him, promising to take her into the woods again. Her cunt was warm and moist with expectancy, but she did not see him.
Not far off Abel Pierce walked beside Vera Yalton; but they said very little, for the shadow cast at their last meeting had deepened. Vera had suffered at the insinuation against her lover and was hurt to the quick that Abel could have made it. He had been content to let the idea fester for a time; and now, in light of what was to come, he approached the subject abruptly as they neared the corrals.
"I know you're angry over what I said," he began, "but I spoke for your own good, Vera. I know what I said is true; but I shouldn't have said it unless your life had depended on it. Now I'll say it again; an' if I can only save you, I don't care what happens to me."
"I won't hear you talk against him," she said, vehemently. "I accept him at face value and that's enough for me."
"Face value, hah!" he swore. "Ain't every muscle of a man's face trained to hide his meaning? Ain't you learned not to show what you feel and think? That's the first thing everybody learns, for Chrissakes! Do you let your mind look out of your eyes? Not you, Vera! The man's cruel as the grave an' hard as stone, behind that straight look. He ruined Minnie Masters; an' I know it; an' that straight look. He ruined Minnie Masters; an' I know it; an' now you know it. Ask him an' look close when he answers."
"I'd rather die than ask him."
"You'd be wiser to, all the same."
"If he heard this, he's break every bone in your body, Abel."
"He might, an' welcome, if he could disprove it."
She glared at him.
"You know it's nothing but a lie!"
"Ask him," Abel repeated. "Let him only prove that dead woman went to her grave with a lie on her lips, an' I'll be best man at his wedding, if he likes. Till then I say he's an' evil-livin' murderer an' a double-dealin', cruel devil. There's the man! And what I've said to you, I'll say to his face."
Behind five horses galloped Ramsey Kirk and another rider. As he swept past he turned in his saddle and shouted:
"See you later!"
Then he was gone.
Vera said but one word more.
"It's an insult to him to listen to you, Abel and I'll not do it. I'm not sad for myself-not sad nor distrustful neither. I'm only sad for you, that you can think so foul; and for my man, that he's got such an enemy. Just yesterday he told me he hadn't an enemy in the world."
"Another lie. He knows better."
They were now among the scattered folk who stood around the corrals, gazing upon and discussing the horses.
Men crowded at the gate and the horses that Ramsey had brought up now trotted in to join the rest.
The crowd increased. Young Slanning discoursed with his friends on horse-rearing; Pierce, forgetting the first business that brought him, worked hard with the horses; old Ned Perryman stood lowering from under white eye-brows at the faces about him, wondering where Jane had gone. Abner Barkell helped to tap a barrel of beer; Vera and Ramsey watched the horses; and Eva Horn watched them for horseback.
Jane Perryman was off in the woods with Richard Barkell, having spotted him at last. He hesitated, but she insisted.
"Honey, you promised."
"Alright," he consented, "but we can't take too long. I have other things to do."
They hastened to a secluded area, surrounded by trees and heavy brush. He quickly removed his coat and spread it on the grass. She lay upon it, arched her back, ruffled her dress around her hips and removed her panties. Richard unzipped his fly and extracted his shaft a nine-inch thing of huge circumference-and held it in his hand for a moment. Jane stretched her arms upward, inviting him to mount her by beckoning with her hands.
"Oh, honey!" she cried, "I got to have some of that! I've been thinking about your beautiful instrument of joy all day long. I'm so juicy I can't stand it."
She undulated her ass to emphasize her longing and teased her clitoris with the index finger of her right hand. He sank to his knees between her legs and fell upon her, aiming his gorged crest at the juicy opening between her thighs. The moment his crest contacted the lips of her cunt, Jane's eyes took on a hazy, hypnotic appearance; and she murmured incoherent phrases of endearment. Due to the immense size of his shaft, Richard could not penetrate her channel without a forceful effort. Finally, after several minor thrusts, the walls of her vagina were sufficiently stretched to accommodate him and in he shot, all the way to the balls. Jane gave a low, drawn-out moan as he was thrusting home and then proceeded to gyrate her hips with ever increasing vigor. She was a multiple orgasm type and consequently, every few seconds her body was overcome with quivering spasms of pleasure. Her frenzied writhing and subsequent trembling accelerated his own passion, until he was pounding her like a steam-drill. He ejaculated without slowing his stroke and she, aware that he was emptying into her, went wild with passion. Neither was satisfied, so he forgot the races and continued on ...
Ramsey Kirk drank no beer. When time for refreshment came, he was content with an orange soda. Many regarded his impassive brown face and dark eyes; none knew what opinions the man might be entertaining or what projects took shape within the hidden places of his mind. Silence was his secret power. He rarely committed himself to any expression of opinion or definite promise. Yet he seemed to be well thought of and received many friendly greetings from people in the crowd. There had been some talk that he ought to stand for State Assemblyman, but thus far he had not taken the talk seriously.
Vera Yalton was proud of him. He introduced her to farmers' wives and to various, smart farmers' daughters on horseback, including Eva Horn. Eva shook hands genially and spoke softly, while she bent forward, stroked her horses' neck and fixed her fearless grey eyes upon the dark ones of Vera. She read the brown, bright face, listened to the slow voice, marked the scanty vocabulary and saw a woman of one idea-fervent, humble, noble, sensual and probably narrow. The scrutiny helped her on her way. They went aside together and Eva praised Ramsey delicately. For some time they conversed, but were just about to part, when a noise of anger at the beer barrel turned their eyes in that direction.
Abel Pierce's opportunity had come. His enemy was drinking orangeade and had clinked his bottle with many friends. Now he saw Abel and with just a shadow of condescension, held out his half-empty bottle.
"No, thank you," Abel said, loud and clear. "I'll not drink with the likes of you. I ain't forgot Minnie Masters yet."
Ramsey's face blazed into hot crimson, but he spoke quietly.
"You must be drunk, or crazy, to say a thing like that. I'm going to overlook it this time, but from now on be careful of your tongue. You're liable to get into trouble, son."
"I ain't your son!" Abel said, speaking now for the benefit of the crowd. "Your son was drawed out of the creek along with his mother. I tell the truth, Ramsey Kirk, an' many honest folk know it's truth!"
There was a murmur and some men intervened. Old Ned Perryman spoke to Abel.
"You drunken fool! What's got into you, boy? Go away an' blush for yo'self-to bring up that story."
"Drunk or sober, I expect an apology," Ramsey said, speaking loud enough for all to hear. "That dirty he was never believed by anyone who knew me."
"All the same, where there's smoke there's fire," called a voice from horseback.
Ramsey turned and saw Orlando Slanning just behind him. He and one or two other young men were smiling together and Ramsey looked upon them with astonishment. His self-control disappeared and he began to grow excited. Round him were many faces, some amused, some merely interested, some angry on his behalf. Voices broke out, but he could not listen. Standing apart, he saw Vera beside Eva Horn.
"No smoke without fire-no smoke without fire!" shouted Slanning again; then he and his companions laughed uproarishly.
"And no lie without an evil heart behind it," Abner Barkell shouted. "This man brings a charge that is dead and buried."
A man on horseback, a stranger, apparently amused at the scene, spoke up.
"The woman and child are dead and buried-not the charge apparently," he called out.
Ramsey walked up to Abel Pierce and those between fell away. It was a personal difference and nobody felt any real obligation to interfere.
Abel did not flinch; he stood looking squarely at Ramsey Kirk and kept his hands in his pockets.
"I ought to break your neck!" Ramsey said, angrily. "To stand there and spit out that lie-"
"If it's a lie, Kirk, I'll let you flay the skin off my bones," said Pierce calmly. "I ain't scared of your noise. Truth's truth, an' truth'll come to light. Who ruined Minnie Masters, if you didn't? If it's a lie, then she went to face her God with a lie on her lips, for her mother will swear that she accused you the night before she drowned herself."
Ramsey stared almost helplessly around him.
"Who believes this lunatic?" he cried.
"I don't!" said old Ned Perryman, "and neither does anybody else."
"I do!" Orlando Slanning said. "The man's guilty-look at him!"
Men growled and argued and took sides upon it. Abel Pierce still stood with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on Ramsey's agitated countenance. There was movement in the crowd where people pressed to the center of excitement.
One heavy thought struck Ramsey and he wondered why Vera stood aloof. At this cruel crisis she did not come. Anger broke loose in him-wrath at the dark, insolent face before him.
"You lying sonofabitch!" he yelled; then he struck Abel Pierce across the face with a riding-whip.
Abel put his hands to his face and two men sprang forward and kept Ramsey from repeating the blow. A babble broke out among the spectators.
Slanning roared the rest down.
"Guilty! Guilty! The man's guilty! Hey, Pierce-why don't you hit him back?"
A deputy sheriff had elbowed his way to Ramsey's side and now spoke in a voice that was almost a command.
"Get on your horse and ride away-quick!"
Vera had reached her lover's side, but he pushed her away with the rest and got quickly to his horse. Many voices babbled; many differences of opinion were expressed; a farmer uttered the general decision.
"It's for Pierce to prove Kirk guilty, if he can, not for Kirk to trouble about it," he said. "Let him what brings the charge make it good, an' be damned to him!"
The people broke away into two camps and some stood round Pierce and some followed Ramsey to his horse. A dozen minor quarrels sprang up and two men came to blows on their own account. Eva Horn insulted Orlando Slanning when he returned to her side and he rode home alone; for she refused his escort, called him "a noisy coward' in the hearing of half a dozen people and then turned her back on him.
Several pairs of boys and girls came from the woods. Faces flushed and eyes shining. Last among these were Jane Perryman and Richard Barkell, who had fucked until he was incapable of fucking. She could have fucked on, but his cock fell limp and could not be revived.
"Honey, what do you supposed happened while we was gone?" she asked.
"I don't have the slightest idea," he answered. "But we can ask your grandpa-he'll know."
While the old man was explaining the incident to them in detail, Eva Horn, careful to avoid being seen, was encouraging Abel Pierce.
"You handled it very good," Eva said.
"That may be," he answered, "but Vera will never forgive me. I seen her face as I came away. There was everlastin' hate on it."
"Nonsense!" she told him. "Only in your eyes it looked so. Nothing's everlasting. You did fine, just fine. The countryside is full of this now. She'll have to ask him if it's true."
"The old woman's ready to swear against him," he said.
"The seed's sown then," she smiled at him. "Let it take root and sprout. You'll wind up with her, if you play your cards right."
Then she mounted her horse and rode away, leaving him to ponder the matter alone.
Ramsey Kirk, stunned by the event, made his way to Narcissus Road; for the first time in his life, he knew what it felt like to have enemies.
Bitterly he mourned the days doings; bitterly he resented the evil fable now revived against his good name; but, before all else, he deplored two things: that Vera had not hastened to his side and held his hand against Pierce and that he had lost his temper, fallen into a rage and put himself in the wrong by striking his attacker. He had never dreamed of this possibility in himself-this unreasoning, headlong rage. But the temptation to assault a fellow-man had not presented itself until that moment. For a time Ramsey despaired of himself; then calmer thoughts came and he braced his mind to action. Yet chaos went homeward with him. The word "enemies" filled his brain. He considered what course to take and where to seek counsel. His first idea was to rush to Vera. But shame of himself and something very like impatience with her apparent passivity, turned his ideas into another channel. Next he cast about for a friend who might tell him how to proceed in the difficulty so unexpectedly and maliciously thrust upon him. Once he thought of going to see Ralph Horn and once he was in a mind to speak to Eva. Finally he determined to see Richard Barkell, who had some credit for sense. He decided to wait until the following evening, to give himself time to better think things through.
Richard and his father were at their supper before Ramsey came and old Abner had detailed the catastrophe with his usual picturesque but scanty vocabulary. Richard declared the incident unfortunate but not surprising.
"Always the way if a man get his head above the other people," he said. "Rise up above your neighbors by the height of an eyebrow and they'll be like so many wolves to tear you down. Once down, they'll be friendly; and once up beyond their reach, they'll be quite content to lick your boots; but not if you happen to be better-off and live amongst them. I've waited to see Ramsey's enemies attack, been expecting it for a long time; but not the way it came. If a man wants to get in front, he must remember the drawbacks. I'm one who wouldn't think the game worth the candle myself. Better to keep below every man's envy and not let 'em know you're worth envying- same as you an' me."
"Jus' what yuh can't do when chasin' skirts," declared Abner. "That is, unless you choose a very ugly cunt without a market. But a lovely piece like Vera Yalton-wonder is there wasn't more after her. There was bound to be a row when she cooled off to Pierce."
Richard nodded and lit his cigarette.
"Amazin' to me; to fight to get married, free as ass is these days. I'd fight to escape from it," he said.
"Beauty's a hindrance to a female in my opinion," continued Abner. "When I was lookin' around, I let the prettiest ones go by. Because a pretty woman always thinks bein' pretty is enough."
"And so it is-up to the point of catchin' a husband," Richard laughed.
"As for Ramsey," Abner said, scratching his chin, "he maybe has a night side to him we don't see."
"I'm surprised at you talkin' that away," Richard said, frowning. "Keep out of it, the same as I aim to do."
"Ramsey's gonna have to prove Pierce a liar, accord-in' to Farner Hext an' a few others; while accordin' to Ned Perryman, an' the deputy sheriff, an others, it's for Pierce to make good his charge if he can. So it lies," Abner explained; then he suddenly exploded in a weak and rheumy chuckle. "Lord! to see the way Eva Horn jumped on that Slanning boy! He was against Ramsey, an' she called him a dirty coward and turned her back on 'im. He stood glazin' out at the world like a pig jus' stuck!"
"I heard," Richard smiled.
"All the women will be against Ramsey as a general thing," Abner added.
"I doubt it," Richard said. "They put on airs and pull faces in company, but if you could see in their minds, you'd find 'em contented enough. The ruin of one woman is a left-handed compliment to 'em all. Children got on the wrong side of the blanket are a walking, livin' advertisement to their higher power over us. Show me a woman-a sensible woman-who wouldn't marry a proper man because her sex had been too much for him afore he met her. Isn't possible. There's dozens of well-thought-upon, worthy people as would have ten wives tomorrow if the law allowed it. An' it's the men who make the laws; so, with that amorous spirit in the land, the women-"
"Hush!" said Abner, lifting his hand and pointing his finger. "Wher'd yuh git such dirty opinions? It's certain they never comed from me. All I'a-sayin' is there's some good women left in the land, an' Vera Yalton is one of 'em."
"You mean by that she ain't done no fuckin' with nobody? You think Abel didn't bust her virginity? Or Ramsey ain't rammed his prick all through her in that house on Narcissus Road?"
"Fuckin' ain't what I'm talkin' on here," Abner argued. "You never heard me say fuckin' made a woman bad, did you? I seen Vera at the races, an' she was in a sad way. It knocked the heart out'a her ..."
"You think maybe she believed the accusation?" Richard asked.
"Of course she don't believe it! Even if angels said so, she wouldn't believe it!"
"Was she in a great flare at Abel Pierce?"
"Not that I could tell," Abner said, reflectively. "Most interestin' an' astonishin' woman, Vera Yalton. She reckons there's another in this an' that Pierce has been told a lie and deceived."
At that point in their conversation Ramsey Kirk knocked at the door and Abner opened to him. He let him in and walked out himself, suspecting that he had come to talk with Richard.
Ramsey came directly to the matter that brought him.
"You'll guess why I'm here," he said.
"I'm sorry to hear what happened," Richard said. "Sit down, an' rest your feet."
"What would you have done, in my place?"
"I'm also sorry you looked me up tonight," Richard told him. "I'll tell you why. This is bad business, but it ain't my business; an' not by word or sign am I goin' to make it so. I know you both an' you're both my friends."
"No friend of his can be a friend of mine," Ramsey declared, "Not after yesterday."
"There it is! I'm sorry for the whole thing, Ramsey. But not a word more do I intend say in' to either of you. As to advice-I've never known a friendship bettered by givin' it and no man I care about ever had mine, or ever will. When you an' me want to argue, then I'll begin offerin' advice-not sooner."
"No man can believe Pierce and remain my friend."
"If that's so, you're answered, for I am your friend, an' I always hope to be."
Ramsey now sat down and stared at the floor.
"You're different than most and that's why I came to you," he said. "You never get hot over anything and don't take sides. All the same, that isn't what I call friendship."
"Like crabapple said when the little boy bit into it and made a face, that's the best I can do."
"I have never gone outside myself looking for advice, until tonight."
Richard studied his visitor's face for a few moments.
"It breaks my rule to say it, but, since you ask, if I was in your fix, I'd go to Vera Yalton afore anybody else in the world."
"What's the sense of that? My good's her good; my evil's her evil. The part can't heal the whole. How can she help?"
"You asked my advice an' that's my advice," Richard said. "You go to her; tell her the-But here I am doin' jus' what I swore not to!'
"Tell her the truth, you were going to say. And doesn't she know the truth? Don't she know me better than that? If not, then what good is it?"
"I'd go to her, if I were you," Richard repeated his advice. "This ain't the time to keep away from her."
The men rose and went to the door.
"Thank you," Ramsey said. "You mean well. But I ought to have sought my own advice-then I shouldn't have come here."
Ramsey said goodbye, left Richard at the door and set off homewards.
CHAPTER FIVE
A long forgotten affair was revived and the dead thing brought new life to Tarboro and the surrounding countryside. Abel Pierce's accusation swept through the community like wildfire, and as is usually the case in such matters, the people began to take sides. The fact that death of Minnie Masters had been legal adjudged and filed away years ago made not the slightest difference. The occupant of the house on Narcissus Road was the center of attention wherever people gathered together and particularly at Maisy Thorton's place, where sex was not only a source of conversation but of physical pleasure as well.
For Maisy Thorton ran a whorehouse.
Sooner or later she became acquainted with every man within fifty miles of her house, which occupied three hilly acres on the East side of town; and they all trusted Maisy too, because she knew her place and always kept her mouth shut. The women of the community knew where she lived and what her business was and some of them occasionally raised considerable noise about that woman and that house; but for the most part they chose to ignore Maisy and "her girls," or simply pretended no knowledge of such a woman and such a place. A few women had learned to extend a grudging respect to Maisy, for they had husbands who were denied entrance to Maisy's place after they had had private conversations with her. They were "good" women, according to Maisy and deserved better treatment than they got from their husbands. It was a rule with her that, if a man was married, had a decent wife and children and could not afford the pleasures offered by her girls without depriving the wife and children of their just due, then, that man was never welcome at her place. She made other exceptions, too, in individual cases where she had reason to believe the "posting" (as she called it) was justified. Yet she did a heavy business, keeping "her girls" working three weeks out of four and making sure they got their just share of every dollar earned.
Maisy's girls ranged between eighteen and thirty; none younger, none older. She had started alone, then took in another girl, and finally, due to an upsurge in business on weekends, hired a third. Now there were four active prostitutes on Maisy's payroll: Helga, Bobbie, Frances and Emma. Each of them were expert whores and all of them were clean and attractive.
"An ugly, dirty whore is an abomination!" is the way Maisy put it.
She was proud of the fact that most of her girls had gone on into respectable lives, making good wives for the men fortunate enough to marry them.
Maisy respected marriage, for she had liked married life while it lasted. Her husband was a good, kind and loving man and a hard worker. Unfortunately he died two years after their vows, leaving her with a baby boy to support. Widowed at eighteen and with no job training and a very sketchy education, she determined to earn a living by selling pleasure to men. Since that decision she had never known a day of want. Now at forty-five she owned considerable property and could sign large checks without fear of them being rejected. Her son lived in California, where she had sent him at the age of five, to live with her sister. The sister received fifty dollars every week for taking care of the boy and raising him as her own. Maisy had sent the money, though sometimes at great sacrifice, until the boy became a man. She had also supplied the money for his college years and later, for his stay at law school. He was now a successful lawyer with two children and a wife of his own. It was a private dream of Maisy's to see them all someday, but deep down and because she herself had arranged it so, she knew she never would. She had exacted a promise from her sister that her son would be told that his mother was dead. Her sister had kept the promise. It was the right thing to do, Maisy reminded herself whenever she started feeling sentimental: what boy wants a whore for a mother? Ex-whore now, though she still operated the whorehouse. Now and again she would take on an older customer, if she knew him and liked him, but it was always on the house. "I'm not a whore," she would say. "I'm an ex-whore with an itch. When I itch I like to scratch and it still feels good-so what am I supposed to do? Shoot myself?"
Maisy got up every morning and had breakfast with "her girls," though often breakfast was served at noon; especially on weekends. The girls needed their rest and she saw that they got it.
"I don't want no tired whores in my house," she explained. "The customer is entitled to his money's worth, and if a girl is tired, she can't give it to him."
Most of the family conversation (her girls were her family) occurred around the breakfast table. Lately the conversation had been about Minnie Masters and Ramsey Kirk; and like other people who discussed the matter Maisy's girls were divided in their opinions.
"Well, if you ask me," said Frances, who was in the middle of her rest period, which is to say, her week off due to nature's demands, "I think he did it. He knocked up that poor kid and drowned her."
"Who ask you?" Emma said, expressing her disagreement. "What do you know about it anyway? You didn't know Minnie Masters and you don't know Ramsey Kirk. You weren't even here when it happened."
"What has that got to do with it?" Helga joined in, siding with Frances. "A helluva lot of people weren't around here when it happened, but that doesn't mean he didn't do it. You can tell by looking at him that the man is all screwed up."
"That's pure nonsense!" Bobbie exclaimed. "You can't tell anything by looking at a person. Not about things like that. Just look at some of the creeps that come out here-"
Maisy entered the dining-room in time to hear Bobbie's remark. She sat down and said:
"Gentlemen, Bobbie. Our customers are gentlemen, never creeps!"
The girls thought that was funny and giggled. Maisy looked around the table sharply and the giggles stopped abruptly. Maisy poured herself a cup of coffee and lit a cigarette, during which time no one said a word. They were all watching her, waiting, knowing she was going to speak again. Maisy puffed her cigarette and blew the smoke impatiently over her shoulder. Then she sipped the coffee and said:
"We are all whores, girls-that means we fuck men for a living. I have always strived for a high-class clientele, just as I have always employed good-looking, well-mannered girls. I do not allow the customers to speak disrespectfully of my girls and my girls are too well-mannered to speak disrespectfully of a customer. However, I realize the possibility of an occasional error. It may be that creep has gotten in without my knowledge. If so, please inform me so he can be posted. Have either of you girls sold yourself to a creep? Bobbie?"
"No, ma'am," Bobbie said. "I didn't mean nothing. We were talking about Minnie Masters and the word just slipped out."
"I had hoped discussion of Minnie Masters would have run its course by now," Maisy said, again looking around the table. "But since it hasn't, we will bury it this morning. I do not want the subject discussed in this house after today."
"But, Maisy!" Emma exclaimed, "How can we not discuss it if it's all the customers talk about?"
"Yeah! Like that grocer, Claude Thomas," Helga said, her voice excited. "He kept talking about it even after he got in bed with me."
"And what did he say?" Maisy asked.
"He said the girl's own mother swore that Ramsey Kirk was responsible," Helga answered. "He said she said the girl told her that just before she killed herself. Then he told me he thought the girl didn't kill herself at all-that Ramsey Kirk had done it and made it look like suicide!"
Maisy nodded her head as she listened to Helga, then said:
"That's one customer. Emma said all, if I'm not mistaken ..." She now let her eyes rest on Emma ... "Did your customer discuss it, too?"
"He had words with Mister Emmett, the banker," Emma answered. "After we got alone, in the room, he kept calling Mister Emmett names, saying he was an idiot and things like that. Then he told me-after, you know-that he knew Ramsey Kirk had got the girl pregnant and turned his back on her. But I didn't believe him."
"Why didn't you believe him, Emma?"
"Because Mister Emmett said it wasn't true and because I don't really like Orlando Slanning," Emma replied, speaking Slanning's name sharply. "I keep hoping he'll pick one of the other girls, she added, wistfully, "but he never does."
"I think he's kinda cute!" Frances said. "He can take me anytime."
"Besides, he's got a lot of money," Helga said, cattily and winked at the other girls.
"Why don't you like Orlando Slanning, Emma?" Maisy asked, always interested in public relations.
"I can't exactly tell," Emma replied, thinking about it. "He's not like other men when he's making love. No, that's not right ... He isn't weird or anything like that-I guess it's because he makes me feel I'm not the one he'd doing it to. Know what I mean? It's like he's always thinking I was somebody else."
"You're a very perceptive girl, Emma," Maisy told her. "But he is a very good customer and we mustn't slight him. He treats you with respect, doesn't he?"
"Oh, he never mistreats me," Emma hastened to explain. "And he always pays double-you know that; but-I just can't explain it, I guess."
"I think you've explained it very well," Maisy smiled. "And you were right not to believe him regarding Ramsey Kirk. For your information-for all of you-" Maisy again looked at each of the girls, so each of them would know they were included in her remarks "-The rumor concerning Ramsey Kirk is totally false."
"Then why did Abel Pierce accuse him to his face?" Frances asked, looking defiantly across the table at Maisy Thorton.
"He did it out of meanness and spite!" Maisy replied and proceed to clarify her statement. "Ramsey Kirk took the woman he wanted. I suppose he hoped the rumor would cause her to have second thoughts about the man she planned to marry. Maybe it will-I don't know; but I do know it's a lie. Ramsey Kirk never had anything to do with Minnie Masters. She was nothing but an ignorant little tramp who didn't have sense enough to take precautions. I've never told this to anyone, but now, because I want you girls to put the matter from your minds, I'm going to speak: Minnie wanted to come to work for me. I thought that would surprise you! She wasn't the innocent little victim the rumor makes her out to be, you see. I know at least three men who had her-either one of which could have been the father of her unborn child. The only innocent victim is Ramsey Kirk; he tried to help the stupid cunt. Now I can't stop customers from talking, but I expect you girls to remain neutral and non-committal when they do." She stopped, finished her coffee, set down the cup and said: "Is that understood?"
They all nodded and she said: "Good. Now, if the rest of you will excuse us, I'd like a word with Emma."
Emma got up from the table and followed her into the parlor. Maisy sat down and motioned for Emma to do likewise. When Emma was apparently comfortable, Maisy began to speak.
"I've been hearing good things about you from the customers, Emma," she said; and smiled, to show that she was pleased. "And I meant it when I said you were a very perceptive girl. For one your age-let's see; you're twenty-two now-you are very mature. That is what I want to talk to you about. I have selected you to instruct a young man in the ways of sexual intercourse ..."
"Instruct?" Emma was puzzled. "You mean like teach?" Maisy nodded.
"Perhaps that is a better word. I understand he has never-"
"Never!" Emma exclaimed in shocked surprise. "How old is he, for goodnessake?"
"He turned seventeen today," Maisy told her.
"Isn't that a little young?" Emma asked, a trifle worried. "I mean, won't the authorities ...?"
"There will be no trouble, if that's what you're thinking," Maisy assured her. "His uncle is Sam Emmett. Sam is giving him his first lay as a birthday present. It means a big bonus, of course," Maisy continued. "Sam told me to select the proper girl and pay her a hundred dollars."
"A hundred dollars!" Emma was overwhelmed with the magnitude of the payment.
"Will you do it, or shall I ask one of the other girls?"
"You know I will," Emma said. "I'd have done it anyway, but for a hundred dollars! you leave it to me. When will he arrive?"
"He's upstairs now," Maisy said. "In the rear bedroom."
Emma stood up and started towards the stairs.
"Remember-he's a virgin!" Maisy called after her.
The young man, who had remained shyly silent from the time of his arrival, was waiting in the rear bedroom, upstairs at the end of the hall. Emma found him there, standing near the window; he seemed neither reluctant nor eager, but rather like a well-brought-up youngster properly doing his elders' bidding.
"Hello. My name's Emma," she introduced herself. "What's your name?"
"My name's Wil-Wil-just call me Bill," he stammered. "Bill Emmett is all."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Bill," she smiled warmly.
He simply stood there looking at her, making no forward move. Emma came close to him and inquired softly: "Would you like me to help you take off your clothes?"
He stood silently for a moment, then shook his head and spoke up. "No, thank you, miss. I can do it myself."
To prompt him to begin Emma quickly removed her shift, so that she was standing naked before him. Slowly, with downcast eyes, he did the same. Emma frankly surveyed his body, thinking it quite a pretty one. His skin was smooth and almost milky white, with no sign of a blemish anywhere. Indeed, she thought, if it were not for the untested appurtenance between his thighs, he might well be mistaken for a young maiden not yet fully matured.
It was his appendage that concerned her most at the moment, so she sat down on the side of the bed and motioned him to come closer. It was, she thought, a most charming instrument and one she was certain was full of promise. The same promise was explicit in the dangling globes, chestnut hard, that hung at its base. The whole was surrounded by soft tendrils of lightly curling hair.
"You are quite handsome," she said, reaching out to touch his supine weapon. She caressed it lightly.
He blushed and gulped and nodded negatively. All the while his rod gradually assumed shape and size. She fondled it for a moment longer and pulled him gently onto the bed beside her. His young shaft had now assumed most favorable proportions. It was no giant as cocks go, but neither was it a puny excuse for what all men should possess. Moreover, its pristine purity, the smooth ivory perfection of its lovely column, crowned by the magenta swelling of its rounded tip, began to arouse Emma's desires. She could feel a little quiver of eager expectation in her pussy and it required somewhat of an effort not to rush him about his task.
It soon became apparent that Bill himself was possessed of a rare impatience. He climbed atop her and started moving, pushing and prodding with amateurish haste. Emma, realizing he would need help, reached down and took his love engine in her hands and guided it to its appointed target.
He entered her slit with a sudden, awkward plunge, like one braving the icy waters of a pool of unknown depth and then went rapidly to work with such a zeal that she could not slow him down. Almost instantly she felt his youthful juices spurting warmly within her and all too soon his rooster-like motions ceased. Then he sank upon her, clearly uncertain in his mind as to what he should do next.
"You do very well, Bill," Emma said, softly. "But now that you have learned the way, you need no longer be in such a rush to reach your destination."
He raised his head and looked down on her, an expression of embarrassed puzzlement marking his youthful features.
"You mean I did it too fast?" he asked.
"That's understandable," she assured him. "It's quite natural, in the beginning, to seek quick satisfaction. But there is really much more to it, many other joys to be discovered-most particularly that of prolonging pleasure. It isn't something one learns in a moment; it takes time and practice. But you are well equipped with the required material, so don't worry about it."
Having thus put him somewhat at ease, she began once again to toy with his shaft. Nor were her efforts strictly for the young man's benefit. For stimulated by his brief entrance into her channel, lubricated by his youthful juices and further excited by the thought of being the first to experience this virgin cock, Emma was consumed with desires of her own.
Such is the resilience of youth, that it was but a moment or two before once again that springtime rod was firmly upright awaiting whatever she wanted to offer it.
When he sought to guide it once again towards the entrance to her cunt, she stopped him gently.
"Let's try it a different way," she murmured, passionately.
She eased him over onto his back, so that his ramrod was upright; and while he stared up at her with perplexity, she straddled him. Holding his throbbing shaft in one hand, she lowered herself slowly, guiding it carefully into the nether lips of her orifice, until finally she could feel it full within her, He remained motionless while she raised and lowered herself, tightening the lips of her cunt around his marvelous column. Emma exercised restraint so as not to hasten his excitement.
By glancing down she could see where their bodies were joined in motion, observe how the curly tendrils of silken hair that bordered their most private parts mingled and twined together as their mounts met. It was a sight to stir the senses and that it did so was no surprise to Emma. Her nether mouth, as full as it could be, sought to swallow completely that delightful male morsel. Her movements were taking effect on Bill, for he began to heave and struggle beneath her. His lips parted and a hot flush of desire stained his unshaven cheeks.
"God, miss!" he said. "I feel like a dam is gonna bust open in me!"
"Then let us join our flood waters together," Emma told him, ready to achieve her own release. She tightened her thighs about his slim, boyish hips, uniting them even more firmly and increased the voluptuousness of her movements, the love-moistened lips of her cunt caressing with ever tightening demands his splendid implement from crest to base. Then he gave a quick, indrawn breath and his hips moved convulsively under her weight and she felt his warm sex-soothing fluid spurt upward within her, blending with the easing comfort of her own pent-up release.
Emma sank forward in delicious languor, the softness of her breasts pressed against his firm young chest. She felt his now conquered member slowly easing out of the trap that had held it captive, moving slowly, like a mouse stealing from its hole at night. But he made no attempt to ease himself from her embrace. To the contrary, he seemed most anxious that their bodies remain entwined in all their intimacy. His arms tightened about her and his hands, as though of their own volition, softly caressed her bare buttocks.
Finally, after ten or fifteen minutes, their bodies separated by mutual consent and lay side by side, satisfied and content.
"I sure enjoyed that!" he said. "Did you, miss?"
"I'll tell you a secret," she answered, caressing his chest, "I think it was the most pleasure I ever had, doing it with you."
"I had a chance to do it with girls I know. Lots of times," he confessed. "But I was afraid."
"Why were you afraid, Bill? Do women frighten you?"
"No, ma'am. I was afraid I'd get 'em pregnant-you know, with a baby and they'd end up like Minnie Masters did that time."
Emma remembered Maisy's saying the subject should not be discussed with customers, but this-Was he a customer? No, he wasn't technically a customer; his uncle was the customer. The temptation was too great and Emma capitulated.
"How did you come to know about Minnie Masters, Bill?"
"Everybody knows about her," he said. "It wasn't so long ago she died. I remember seeing her lots of times. I even seen her in the woods with fellows. Once I saw her and a fellow do what we was doing."
"Did you know the fellow, Bill? I mean could you see who he was?"
"Sure I did. It was Orlando Shinning. But he wasn't the only one."
"Do you know Ramsey Kirk, Bill?"
"Of course I do, Miss. He's the one they tried to blame it on."
"Did you ever seen him with Minnier Masters?"
"Only once, Miss. I heard 'em talking, too. I hid out and listened, thinking they was going to do-well, what we done and I wanted to watch-but they didn't. They just talked."
"What did they talk about?"
"Oh, that was a long time ago," he said. "And I was a boy then, don't forget; but I remember he said to her, he said; 'Minnie, you have got to say who the father of your baby is-he ought to be made to help you.' I couldn't hear what she said,-she was sobbing so bad. I never told nobody about that," he added, looking at her with admiring eyes. "I was ashamed for them to know I was peeping."
"I'm glad you told me," Emma said and kissed his lips tenderly.
"That's a real pretty woman Mister Kirk is fixing to marry," Bill said, his eyes shining with renewed desire. "Some of us boys use to hide at the bridge and watch her walking. I thought she was the juiciest woman in the world until I met you. I guess all the boys fancied themselves inside her-I know I did. Mister Kirk sure is a lucky man!"
Emma saw that his cock was again on the rise and said:
"Now you don't need to fancy doing it anymore. If you feel like it, we could do it again right now."
"I don't want to over tire you, miss," he said, seriously.
She suppressed the smile that started to come, knowing that laughter would hurt him. She pretended hesitancy, then sighed softly and said: "It's true that you have nearly drained me of energy, with that wonderful pole of yours, but you made me enjoy it so much I would try it again even if it killed me."
So saying her hand stole softly down to those twin sacks that hold Nature's ammunition and without which no instrument of love, however well-fashioned, could properly function ...
CHAPTER SIX
Vera Yalton had a conversation with Abel's mother, but came away wishing she had never made the visit. The old woman was in a rage and her bitterness had obscured his judgment. Sight of her son's face, raw from Ramsey's whip, entirely altered her opinion. She was astonished to see Vera, but welcomed the chance and lost no time in forwarding the interest of Abel.
"Poor boy-if he don't lose his eye 'twill be by the mercy of God."
"He told a lie," Vera said, "and he knows it's a lie!"
"I'd have said the same, an' did say the same a while back. I believed in Ramsey Kirk till this. But now-no. Take care you never put yourself under his heel, Vera, or 'twill be the worse for you. Abel's right, an' he's only said out straight what others think. An' he done it out of love for you-to save you. I'd a thought you'd been just a little grateful! He's took his poor face to the doctor- a cruel sight to look on, like a tiger clawed him."
"What could Ramsey do, suddenly faced with such an insulting lie? I'll never forgive Abel, for he knew Ramsey and well he knows Ramsey couldn't have done what he said."
"I tell you he did do it-else he'd never have answered it so."
"It's just how Abel would have answered it himself, I reckon; or any other man worth calling a man. Ramsey! Why, he's told me all about himself- all!-all from the day he was a little boy. All-all his hopes and fears and deeds, past and future. Was there any room in his life for ruining a woman, a mere girl? No, I tell you! I'll swear my life on it!"
One of the old woman's slow smiles worked up to her face.
"You'll know more about 'im one day. Told all! So we think-generation after generation of us; an' they laugh. As likely we should tell 'em our maiden thoughts, as they should let out their bachelor deeds. It's agin nature, girl. If you must have him, Vera, be sensible. Take him with your eyes open-not shut. Then maybe he'll respect you and look to leading a clean life. Yes, I believe he's guilty now; an' other neighbors too. I could say more when I look on my son's face. The patience of him, to suffer that evil man's blows for you."
"It wasn't my fault," Vera said sulkily.
"Nor his either. Truth's truth! an' for love of you he told it-had to tell it-not for hate of the man. Abel's no hate agin Kirk: but your happiness is all the world to him. He'd die for you, an' well you know it."
"He doesn't have to do anything for me. I can't take care of my own happiness," she said. "And I think you ought to know," she added, "Abel's put himself in reach of the law, they say in Tarboro."
"More than likely. But it ain't law-breakin' to ruin a fool of a girl, if she's wife-old-just law-breakin' to throw it in the face of the rascal afterwards. Abel's not afeared. He hopes and prays Kirk will have the law on him. Two can play at that."
"I'll never believe it-never! If Ramsey said it was true, I'd not believe it."
"Well, you're a pattern of woman different to me. When a female takes a man with her eyes shut, it's a sort of marriage that breeds more'n children. Ruin your life, if you like."
"I'm a growed woman-not a girl. I can judge as well as you or anybody else," she answered with temper flaring.
"I wish you could, Vera," said Mrs. Pierce. "For your own sake I wish you could see that this man, with his fan-face an' dark story, ain't worthy to hold a candle to my Abel, with his honest heart. Better go now, for us ain't gonna get to see alike tonight. We've been good friends since you come amongst us, an' long may we bide so. I'm sorry to my innermost core for ye, an' I'll say no more."
Vera returned homeward, dispirited and weary. On her arrival she inquired whether Ramsey had been to see her, heard that he had not and then went to her room. Through sleepless hours the charge against her lover sank into a lesser thing than his absence after it. Time magnified this into a mountain of wrong. By what possible right had he kept away, thus excluding her? For what possible reason? If he called for comfort, who such power to bestow it and pour it upon him as she? And if he stood in need of no gentle voice to come between him and the memory of Abel Pierce's hard one, the, surely, he might have thought for her and all that this incident must mean from her point of view.
It had not, indeed, burst upon Vera with the horror of complete surprise; but Ramsey was unaware of that, since she had never breathed a word of Abel's dark hints. So far, therefore, as Ramsey could know, she had heard the charge against him for the first time that day. She did not blame him for the way he met it-by striking the liar in front of those who heard the lie. But then he had pushed her away when she approached and disappeared. This she found it impossible to forgive. Nor did she understand why he kept away from her, having no suspicion that he too felt a grievance. Between snatches of sleep, she lived again through the scene of the races, heard the laughter of men and neighing of horses, the uplifted voice and the thud of the whip on Abel's face.
The thoughts produced dreams as she drifted into sleep and the dreams merged, changed, becoming first one thing and then another. The riding quirt turned red, extended in length and became the appendage of a stallion. The stallion reared and mounted a mare, his tremendous penis penetrating the dilated slit in its path. Longer and longer the thing grew and deeper and deeper it went into the mare's cunt. The mare did not move as that long, pink thing slipped ever deeper into her. Suddenly Vera was the mare. On hands and knees she waited ... waited ... knowing the thing was about to penetrate her slit. He put strong hands on her buttocks and spread them-He! Who was he? He was behind her and outside her range of vision. His thing was huge and he had some difficulty even though her juices had moistened the channel for him. He was like a horse, pushing into her and covering her back with his chest; and she remained motionless, taking all he had to offer without a whimper. He moved forward and backwards and he made her come several times before he finally emptied himself and filled her with warm, juicy spurts. The lips of the vagina were crimson ... a sudden red gash-No! It was the mark left on Abel's cheek by the riding quirt ... She tossed about and forgot, sleeping fitfully.
She rose very early and told herself that she would not see Ramsey for a week, until her ideas were orderly and her mind clear. Then she changed her intention and decided to see him at the earliest possible opportunity. She was glad to plunge into the business of another day. She forgave him and trusted him and doubted not that he would swiftly make all plain.
They met indeed, even sooner than Vera had hoped; but the meeting occurred at a place and in a manner far different than she expected.
It happened that Mrs. Horn wanted a recipe for potatoe pancakes and old Susan Yalton, the best cook in the district, had been appealed to. But Mrs. Yalton was no penman and now sent a message to Mrs. Horn by her niece. Thus it happened that chance took Vera to the farm at an unfortunate moment and the accident, better than a month of plotting, fell in with plans of Eva and advanced her intrigue.
The first person whom Vera met as she walked up the drive to the Horn's, was Abel Pierce. He worked on a field that spread to the right of the way and was engaged in scattering manure upon the grass-lands. A long strip of plaster stretched down the side of his face. The man took no notice of her, but she stopped and accosted him.
"Did your eye get hurt?" she asked.
"It's nothing," he answered. "I don't care if it goes, so long as you are all right. Let him prove I'm a liar and he can put his foot on my neck if he pleases."
"It was a wicked thing to tell it out afore the world-a cruel, wicked thing. If he hadn't struck you, I would have-if I could have got to you."
"I did it just to save you."
"I'll never forgive you, Abel."
"I'd never want you to if I lied; but if it's truth-what then? What has he said to you? How has he proved he was innocent? Tell me that."
"I haven't seen him since."
"Haven't seen him!"
"An' I won't mention the subject when I do. I feel just as I did when you first spoke against him. I scorn it."
"Haven't seen him! Well, go up to the house, an' you will see him."
"Is he there?"
"Talkin' to Eva Horn at the door. Maybe she can give him wiser advice than you can."
"What's he doin' here?"
"Better ask him. They've been tellin' together half an' hour, anyway, for I watched 'em from t'other end of the field."
She went on her way. Then, before this new seed could germinate, Ramsey appeared, riding briskly along the road.
"I was coming to see you now," he said, as though reading her thoughts.
"Why didn't you come before?"
He dismounted and stood beside her with his horse's bridle rein through his arm.
"I was ashamed to, Vera," he said quietly. His voice sounded softer than hers, which was high-pitched.
"Ashamed? Of what, for cryin' out loud?"
"Ashamed of losing temper in front of everyone, the way I did." She stared.
"There are times when a man ought to lose his temper, I should think. You might have been ashamed if you hadn't."
He shook his head.
"That's all wrong, Vera. I'm a Christian man, and I'm supposed to know better. Religion and sense both were against me. If I can't govern myself than that ...?"
His propriety irritated Vera more than anger could have done. She kept a moody silence and stood with her eyes on him.
"You don't want my pity then?" she said.
"I want your forgiveness. I've had your pity. I know that."
"You want me to forgive you for striking a man who told a lie about you?"
"That's not the way to put it, be fair, Vera. My thorn's my temper and I thought I'd got it under."
She remembered the day in the woods, the day Abel raped her; she was on her way to see him. What would he say if he knew?
"I wouldn't have forgiven you if you hadn't struck him," she said, "It was necessary-and right!
"It's a curse when a man can't control his temper," Ramsey argued. "All high doing is built on self-control in the doer."
"I wonder you don't go across to Abel in the field and tell him you're sorry then."
"No need to sneer at me, Vera. Very likely I shall tell him so. It's clear he's a victim, same as me; his ear's been abused. He's heard this thing and jumped at it to gain his own ends."
"Then it's for him to come whimperin' to you," she said.
He suppressed a flash of annoyance.
"You're angry because I didn't come to see you," he said. "Well, to tell the truth, I was angry when you didn't come to me at the races."
"I did-an' you pushed me away as if I was dirt."
"I had hoped you would have come quicker; but of course you couldn't-not through that crowd. So let it pass. I really ought to have come to you, but I couldn't."
"But you can come here. Yesterday my heart was bleeding for you. I wanted to be standing up for you and taking my share of the trouble. Didn't I feel every word he spoke? Did I sleep easy at night? You shut me out of your life-at the most terrible moment you've ever faced. That's what I can't forget. And now I find you up here."
"We're coming to the truth at last," he answered. "I made a mistake-granted. All the same, you ought to have known me well enough to have trusted me through it."
"What do I know, an' what don't I know? I know this: that you was coming to me after talking for an hour with another woman."
He stared in astonishment.
"Blowing up from all quarters at once!" he said. "What of my being here, talking with Eva Horn? I came on business to her father and he was out. Eva saw me instead. You to say such things."
"You've been asking her how to get out of this mess, I suppose-her an' not me?"
Ramsey flushed in anger, remembered his recent resolution, cooled and sighed.
"This is worse-far worse than yesterday," he answered sorrowfully. "Do you want me to wish I'd never seen you, Vera?"
"Better for me, perhaps. Anyway, hear this: you told me I was half yourself and I'm content with no less than that. The man I marry shan't lead a life I don't share. I'll have all of him, or none. If there's another woman that he can go to in the first fix-let him; an' let him stay with her."
"You can say these things?"
"Who wouldn't? To come to me from her! She's told you to be patient and forgive everybody and ask everybody to forgive you. What for? For Christianity, no doubt. An' I-I tell you to-"
"Don't," he said. "I'm no coward, if that's what you mean and you know it."
"The religion's a coward that makes you beg pardon of fears. An' won't marry a man who's going to cringe to the world an' climb by crawling."
"You haven't been asked to plan my life, Vera; I asked you to share it."
"I won't share it if I despise it. You may have all the virtues in the Bible, but you've none for me if-and the high place you'll get to I've no wish to share, it it's to be reached by licking people's asses an' taking the advice of rich farmers' daughters!"
"You'll do well to mind your own business and let me mind mine, I think."
"You say that-a dirty thing like that to the woman you want to marry! Isn't your business mine? Am I the sort to sit outside my man's life, an' be no more part of it than the post of his garden gate?"
"I don't know what you are," he said, his own temper wavering, as the light in his eyes revealed. "You're a very unreasonable sort, apparently."
A pause fell between them and in the interval came the unspoken thoughts of each, but neither gave way to the other by trying to head off disaster.
Suddenly Vera spoke and poured her anger into one bitter question. Her temper had got beyond control and she clenched her fist like a man.
"Is it true or isn't it-what Abel Pierce said? Perhaps thought so unreasonable, I'm within my rights to ask that."
Then real anger woke in him also.
"You raise that question-you can dare? You, that trusted me like the sun to light tomorrow-or pretended you did! You, that have talked of pure love to me! You that said-Oh never mind! What's the use?"
Vera remembered all that Mrs. Pierce had said to her and stood staring at him defiantly.
"You're on a man, Ramsey-not a winged angel. Men have fucked women and knocked 'em up, I believe, an' kept their mouths shut about it. I only want you to understand I'm a growed woman, not a know-nothing fool to take on trust all a man in love may say in a hot minute. Anyway, I am personally aware of your capabilities in that department. So I'd like you to answer my question."
"I will not answer! If you can ask, I will not answer! I've answered the world that asked. Those that knew me never did-they never asked, because they knew the answer. Those who do ask aren't worth answering."
She flamed under brown skin and was a little frightened at his furious face.
"Think what you're doing," she said.
"Aren't worth answering," he repeated and his voice throbbed with passion. "You met me in an hour when I was contrite for striking a fellow human being; when I was feeling a hard, unmerited disgrace; and-and you ask me this. Ask Abel Pierce for your answer. I'm through with you!"
He mounted immediately and galloped off, while she stood and stared after him. Her errand was absolutely forgotten and now, suddenly turning back, Vera went slowly homeward.
* * *
Ramsey Kirk was hurt by and angry at Vera Yalton's attitude. He had resolved to do his duty as he saw it and it was not by intention that he met and spoke with Eva Horn. Business took him there and he arrived to find Ralph Horn had broken an appointment owing to the sudden arrival of a person with more pressing business. Eva had waited to pass on word of her father's departure. Then, the business over, Eva tuned herself to his attitude toward his wrongs. She bitter scorned the accusation, but affected no astonishment and told him, as Richard Barkell had already told him, that enemies were a part of man's inevitable lot. She congratulated him on his regrets and restored self-control and said that if was further evidence of his good character. Upon this highly correct attitude Vera's more defiant and natural mien had come with painful force. At another time her just wrath had possibly comforted Ramsey not a little; but for the present, a rather unctuous patience ruled him. His own loss of temper begot this frame of mind and it was perfectly genuine.
The comment of the community assisted to compose him. Few could discuss with patience the old charge revived; and since it came from a rejected suitor, the folly and falsity alike were accentuated. Keen expression of regret and sympathy greeted Ramsey; yet even in his satisfaction at this widespread commiseration, Ramsey felt some measure of concern, for the reason that it was so universal. The scene at the racing grounds had been generally reported. All men appeared to have heard of it; and while not a few were actively angry for Ramsey, he knew not what larger number might be indifferent, or how many others held an opinion adverse from him.
Upon this situation had come the rupture with Vera, and his misery increased from day to day. Twice he called to see her and twice she refused to see him. A week passed; the, between intervals of work, he went to Horn's again and again saw Eva.
To his surprise she was able to tell him more about Vera than he had learned elsewhere; but Vera did not come first in their talk. Eva was full of congratulations, because his horse had taken a prize at the County Fair.
"I scored a triumph, too," she said. "My child Runner won again in his class."
"Did you ride him yourself?"
"Of course! Do you think I'd let anybody else?"
"I've been so occupied-"
"We all wished that you had showed yourself as well as your mare. You ought to have been in the ring. It is a mistake to let people think you care a damn for this business."
"It's not this business-it's my girl."
"Vera Yalton? But surely! You mean she is feeling this bitterly and doesn't like you to be away from her?"
Ramsey reflected. He perceived that under the present delicate conditions, it might be well to say as little as possible to anybody and keep his tribulations to himself. Moreover, the man in him indicated such a course. But Eva was not like a stranger. He kept silent now and the woman spoke again, softly and warmly.
"Dear Ramsey, you mustn't be downhearted. Let her take a lesson from me, if she will. I've never lost an opportunity to kill the lie. I've killed it with laughter and scorn. Can those who know you for one instant believe folly so transparently wicked? Your life is the answer. She must champion you with laughter. She must not hide herself and her tears. She just be with you always. It was to separate her from your side that this thing was done. Can't she see that? There's nothing to cry about. She should thank God on her knees for such a man!"
Her voice shook a little and Ramsey gazed at the hand she had laid impulsively on his sleeve.
"Thank you," he said. "I wish Vera-"
"Tell her from me to be brave and remember that all the world thinks as she thinks in this matter. It always makes us brave when we have the world on our side. But I think I should be braver still myself if I had the world against me."
Ramsey could not be blind to her enthusiasm.
"Few women have your courage, Eva. You're like your father. Nothing shakes you, if you honor a man by thinking well of him. Vera hasn't known me so long as you have. Her own cousin says this and there's more behind, if we could only find what. Abel Pierce has given out that that poor dead girl's mother will swear she accused me the very day she drowned herself."
"The graver the charge, the prouder she must be to sweep it away."
"Trust you to know a woman! At any rate a good one. I must see her-and yet, you see, I must be just. This has come as a terrible shock upon her. Her mind moves slower than yours, because, of course, she's not had the advantages of education that you have."
Eva nodded thoughtfully. Then she risked a bold sentiment.
"Sometimes I wish you had not chosen a woman beneath your class, Ramsey."
The subtlety of the compliment pleased him unconsciously, though he felt compelled to deny it.
"Not that. She's far above me, really-such a one-thoughted woman as she is."
"But there's a danger with one-thoughted people, as you call them. They see a thing clear enough, but they don't see it whole-like we see the moon. Yet, though not always wise, that way is wise enough over this wretched affair. All of us are one-thoughted where you are concerned, Ramsey."
"I'll see Vera tonight," he answered with great determination. "I'll put the matter before her as you see it. Not that there's any real need, I'm sure; still, I'll tell her how it is with-"
"Not with me," Eva said quickly. "Speak generally. Treat the thing lightly. Beg her not to be too serious. Why, what madness and moonshine-worse than Jack O'Lantern in a swamp! You to dishonor any man or woman either!"
"She'll think the same-I'm certain."
"Of course she will-she must. Why not go to her at once? You can, you know. She's here this morning with a message for my mother."
Ramsey started and grew very red. He tugged his chin and stared uneasily around, as though he expected actually to see Vera. He exhibited this uneasiness, because he believed that if Vera saw him talking with Eva Horn, she would probably pass by without acknowledging his existence. The position was delicate, for he had naturally been loyal to Vera and given Eva no hint that relations were strained between them.
While he hesitated she spoke again.
"I'll see her if you like. That's a generous offer-more generous than you can guess."
She laughed lightly, that the words should carry just their proper significance and no more.
"It's good of you to suggest it," he said; "but no! it's out of the question. I'll speak about it tonight-not now. In fact, I must hurry up at once. I've business in Tarboro today."
They stood near the farm gate; and now, looking up the long drive, Eva saw Vera returning from the house. The recipe that she had forgotten some days before was just delivered in response to a second request from Mrs. Horn.
Ramsey prepared to depart.
"Tonight," he repeated; "not before. Don't say you've been talking to me, if you please. She's in a very excited and agitated frame of mind, naturally enough and not quite herself. Thank you for everything. I value what you said. Good-bye."
His leave-taking was extremely hurried and without difficulty Eva perceived that Ramsey had no wish to meet his intended bride then or there.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Eva waited to meet Vera Yalton.
Ramsey had expressly asked her not to mention him. Therefore she designed to make the advancing woman take the initiative if possible. She hoped that Vera had seen her lover depart, but this was not the case.
Vera gave a slight gesture of recognition and was hastening by, when Eva came to her side and extended her hand quickly. She smiled and did not speak until a warm pressure had been implanted on Vera's palm.
"I'm so glad to meet you, Miss Yalton. I've wanted to see you again ever since we first met. I don't really think you've been out of my thoughts once."
She angled to ascertain how Vera stood to the tragedy, because a vagueness in Ramsey's voice and words had convinced her that he was evading the truth. As for Vera, a strong dislike towards Eva had ruled her mind; but it was based on nothing substantial. Her jealousy had cooled, for, with thought, came the conviction that it was folly. A sense of indifference and loneliness filled her life. Her body cried out for love-physical and satisfying love; and she waited for Ramsey to come again to see her.
"Thank you," she said to Eva. "If you're referring to the trouble at the racing grounds, I think it will all turn out all right."
"Men are what we make them, Vera-if I may call you Vera."
The sentiment had no apparent point, but was spoken with an object.
"I suppose they are," Vera answered, "unless men are what they make themselves."
"It was a despicable thing to revive, that lie," Eva said, choosing her words carefully. "Very, very few people believe it. It will be forgotten in a month or two; the people will have found something else to gossip about. The trial is really a blessing in disguise for you, because men who love us like to see if we are strong enough to stick to them in trouble as well as prosperity."
"It's a very serious matter," Vera replied.
"You think that because you have seen so little of the world yet," Eva smiled at her. "In such a man as Ramsey Kirk it is nothing at all. If it was even true, a real woman's love wouldn't flicker at it-at any rate not a wise woman's."
"You think so do you?" Vera was not impressed.
"Men are what we make them," said Eva again. "If a girl's a fool, there's always a man in reach to prove her one. Men are silly children where we women are concerned. If we offer candy to children, so we blame them for accepting it? What should we think of a child that didn't-or a man that didn't? You're not going to marry a sanctimonious prig and I don't suppose you want to. Don't let this incident waist a moment of your thoughts. You couldn't if you really loved him."
"It is because I love that it does," Vera said, not caring to discuss the matter anyway.
"He's denied it, hasn't he? Then surely there's an end of the matter."
A searching and intense look came into Vera's eyes. She was wondering whether she could trust Eva and feeling with all her heart that she couldn't. She yearned indeed for a confidante; she stood in need of advice; the folly of her denial of Ramsey was not hidden from her; yet she had so far miserably persisted. Now there came a sudden longing to see him.
The unhappy lover in her desired to confess to Eva and hear the other chide her folly; but the woman in her kept her dumb. Soon she felt thankful that she had not spoken; for Eva now tried another line by which, if possible, to learn a little more.
"Your silence shows me that you are not quite satisfied with his denial," Eva said, meeting Vera's straight glance with one as steady. "That's madness, Vera-it is indeed. Listen to me-for I have known him quite well for a long time-not better than you, perhaps, but longer. Don't be too hard on him, whatever you think. To doubt his word is madness. Whether he speaks the truth or not, his word must be the trumpet of truth to you-if you want to live a happy life with him."
Vera started to speak, stopped, overcome by caution and then said:
"I know you mean well, so I thank you; but it will all come right in the end, no doubt."
"There's every doubt, Vera. I can see the doubt in your eyes and hear it in your voice. You have made me very sad-sad, because I'm so powerless. You're such a fortunate girl, if you could only see it."
Vera bristled with suspicion instantly.
"Has he asked you to speak to me?"
"No," Eva answered, "he asked me not to do so. But I do believe he's very miserable."
"If he is, Miss Horn, it is not my fault."
"I'm sure of it. It's his own sensitive nature. He didn't tell me that you were-what I find. You've told me that yourself. That's why I'm sad. If you can't fight the world for him and help to roll away these dark clouds that are crowding down upon him and-and-so on, who can?"
"What can I do?"
"Well, in the first place, be a little selfish and see how silly you are, from the standpoint of your own situation. Think of being his wife, of living on Narcissus Road-the social meaning of it alone."
"Don't say things like that! What do you think I am anyway? Do things like that count against-? Never mind. We're a long ways from thinking alike, if you can speak such nonsense as that."
"I merely wanted to remind you of what you've apparently forgotten. Why, you'll rise-Heaven knows how high. To sulk over this, like a child! The man's not made of patience-no man is. Take my advice: forget Minnie Masters and go to him as his future wife should do and ask him to forgive you for not coming sooner."
Vera stared at her in anger and astonishment.
"What in the hell are you saying?" she asked, out of temper. "You-you! Who are you to say such things?"
"I'm interested."
"So I see. Interested to do what?"
"To make you friends again, I imagine. What other interest can I possibly have? Do you also doubt me, as you doubt him?"
Vera gasped.
"I must be going crazy!" she exclaimed. "It would have been better if you had taken his advice and not spoke to me."
"That's true-if I haven't made you view this matter in a more sensible manner. I'm a little older than you, Vera dear and better know the dangers and temptations of the world. Try and be wise-that's all try very hard to be wise, before it's too late."
Eva turned away and walked homeward. Vera, with a sort of congested pressure of brain, stood for the moment powerless to formulate a clear pathway through this forest of ideas now spread before her. One obvious fact at least appeared: Ramsey had again seen and spoken with Eva Horn.
That night Ramsey Kirk called once more upon Vera, but in vain. She refused to see him. Hurt and bewildered he returned home, feeling more and more angry as he progressed. Vera Yalton, he thought, was the most unreasonable woman in the world. Why she should refuse to see him, to talk with him? Didn't she love him? Of course she loved him! Hadn't she lain with him in his bed and given herself freely and joyfully to him? Were they not engaged to be married? Why couldn't she be sensible like-like-Eva Horn!
There was a woman for you-Eva! No nonsense! That time in the barn-what had she said? Oh, yes, he remembered; he remembered it all.
Eva had come into the barn while he was tossing hay from the loft. He had removed his shirt and was working bare-chested and then he heard her calling up to him. He looked down from the loft in time to see her start up the ladder. She was wearing a low-cut blouse and it was low on one shoulder, revealing a mound of white flesh that made him long to gaze upon its mate.
"My, but it's nice and cool up here," she said, as she stepped into the loft and stood before him.
"Yes. Yes, it is cool up here," he answered. "I sometimes take a nap on the hay-after the chores, of course."
"What a wonderful idea!" she exclaimed, throwing herself onto the hay. She lay on her back, arms stretched above her head and stared up at him with lustrous gray eyes. "Why don't you stop and visit with me for a while," she invited him.
Ramsey tossed the pitch-fork aside and sank down near her, but directed his eyes to the stalls below; it was too disturbing to look at her.
"Why don't you look at me, Ramsey? Am I so unattractive?"
"You are far from that," he said, turning his head to gaze upon her.
"Would you do me a favor, Ramsey?"
"If I can."
"Kiss me."
His eyes widened in sharp surprise.
"What?"
"Kiss me," she repeated and held her arms up to him. "Come here and kiss me. Are you afraid?"
He answered with a nod and leaned over her. She wrapped him in her arms and pulled him downward until their lips met. He could feel the softness of her breasts against his naked chest and he threw reticence to the winds. He explored her mouth with his tongue and sent his hand roaming over her body. She made a humming-type moan of pleasure and writhed against him.
"Oh, Ramsey! do you want me?"
"Yes!" he answered hoarsely, his fingers caressing her cunt through her skirt and panties.
"Then take me, Ramsey," she sighed; and she hastily removed her panties and put his hand upon the hairy softness. He fumbled and got his cock free of its cage and lowered himself between her legs. She widened her thighs to receive him, crying:
"Oh, Ramsey, take me! Put it in me and fill me with it!"
He required no urging. In he went, forcing his cock into her cunt to the limit of his ability. She arched to make it easy for him and kept moaning and churning.
"Oh, Ramsey-I love what you're doing to me. You're the first since Andrew died."
They fucked for nearly an hour, each making the other come at least three times. Afterwards they lay on the hay, talking and laughing ... He had thought her extremely intelligent even then, for she had made no claims upon him at all.
"It's something I wanted and needed," she said. "You are not obligated in any way. I hope you got as much pleasure out of it as I did ..."
Yes-Eva had always been intelligent and reasonable. She had never once mentioned to him their affair in the loft, nor did she make any demands upon him afterwards. Now why couldn't Vera be that sensible? What in the hell was eating her anyway? The more he thought about her attitude, the more baffled and hurt he became. Surely, he thought, she cannot believe the lie told by her ex-lover ...
* * *
Abel Pierce was working at the stone quarry that gapes in the hill near railway bridge and it happened that, returning to Tarboro on a mineral wagon, he met Richard Barkell. Pierce, thought he held the signalman's opinions of little practical value in the affairs of life, yet respected his wits and now asked him a question or two.
"I know you try to be friends with everybody," he said, "so I suppose you know that Vera Yalton have thrown Kirk over? At least I think so."
"Better leave that," Richard said. "You've fancied a good deal too much lately."
"There's no fancy about what I said about him," Abel protested. "He ruined that damned girl, an' now-"
"Drop it, Abel. I don't want to hear. You come very badly out of this mess."
"What do I care so long as I get her?"
"Ramsey Kirk's a straighter man than you and you know it."
"Straight or crooked-wait till you're after a woman."
"A stiff prick has no conscience, eh?"
"Words fall out of you like feathers off a goose!"
"That's my nature," Richard said, smiling, "that's how I'm compounded. I love to read wisdom and spit it out again."
"Well, I'll tell you this, Dicky-boy-Ramsey Kirk won't get her now."
"Maybe she ain't worth the getting," Richard observed. "But he'd make a better husband than you would."
"You think so?"
"I know so. His idea of love would be a comfortable house on Narcissus Road with a maid to help his wife and smart clothes for her. Yours would be to make her the mother of an army of children and chance the rest."
"You carry on like a preacher."
"Not me," Richard laughed. "Too large-minded, I hope. I wouldn't like to make my livin' drivin' souls. For liberty of mind I am. That ain't the church people's way, worse luck. In my world, Abel, you and such as you wouldn't be able to carry on with your lies a week."
"You'll be so like to go to hell for your devilish opinions as me for my deeds. Only you'll have had nothing for 'em; I'll get my reward where I want it-in this world. Next don't matter."
"Vera is a handsome piece of woman," Richard agreed, "and I don't blame you for wanting her. But she obviously preferred another man and one who probably loved her more than you do. You have wrecked a good relationship out of lust-"
"Is that so!" Abel said, his temper edged. "Well, here's come news for you. It's a waste of time to pity Kirk-he ain't sorry for this in his heart. He don't want Vera no more-not since he's had such a deal of comfort from Eva Horn. Vera's seen that clear enough, whatever else she didn't see. Wonder she didn't see it sooner. That farmer's daughter means fifty time more to him than ever Vera did. Ramsey's gone away now, to let the thing cool off, no doubt."
"You're an unprincipled cocksucker, Abel," Richard said without emotion. "A very dangerous, headlong man. You'd better watch it, boy-else you'll end your days in jail. Talk about conscience!"
"I'll live my life out an'how," Abel said. "One of these days, Dicky, you may find everything worth anything rolled up in one woman's clothes. If you do, then, boy, you'll know how I feel about this thing."
The two men then parted company.
The next morning, while Abel Pierce continued to wonder whether the hour was ripe to make his move and approach Vera, there came to him a letter; and by the same post she also received one. They were from Ramsey Kirk, the man who filled both their minds.
To Abel Pierce he wrote:
"Dear Mr. Pierce,
"This comes to tell you that I am very sorry I struck you before the people at the Races a while back and I hope you'll forgive my foolish anger and passion. By this time I trust that you have found out that the thing you said against me was an old, false fable with no shadow of truth to it and that you were misinformed and that those who so wickedly misinformed you ought not to be trusted in anything.
"Knowing what love of woman is, I can understand while you believed this lie you were tempted to use it against me; and that you even believed it yourself, because you wished to do so. But it was an evil weapon to use against any man and I hope the trouble and mischief you've made will be a lesson to you.
"I've written to Vera and asked her to meet me and make it up, for though the lie was a cruel one, yet I had no right to lose my temper and fall into a rage with her or with you. Therefore I now apologize for striking you.
"If Vera come to me, as I feel sure she will, that ends it; if she does not, then the crime is on your shoulders and you'll suffer your reward as sure as there's a just and watchful God in Heaven.
"Yours sincerely, Ramsey Kirk."
The following letter reached Vera the same day, and after hesitation, she read it:-
"My darling Vera,
"As you won't see me, I can only hope you will read my letter. I have had little on my mind since that sad day when we quarreled but sorrow for my wrong-doing. Things had fretted me badly and somehow, when I found you could ask me in cold blood if I'd ruined a woman and caused her death, it sent me into a rage. But I was wrong not to keep my temper and answer you quietly. I ask you to forgive me for saying harsh and unkind things to you and I swear that I never touched that poor girl, Minnie Masters. All who knew me, knew it was impossible without my having to say it.
"I can't say more except that without you, my life will be a half-finished thing and a sad business at best. You have spoiled me for other women, darling.
"I have written to Abel Pierce and I know by now you have changed your mind about wanting me to be angry with him. What's the good of that? I want to help the man to be wiser, not hurt him in any way.
"If you won't marry me, Vera, I must live my life without you; but I can't believe it's so bad as that between us. But if you will and if you have forgiven me, please meet me next Saturday at Hector's Knoll. I have a desire to meet you there, where we first made love and where I asked you to marry me. If the day is fair I'll be there by noon. Please come, Vera, for my days are empty and my hear is heavy.
"With all my love, Ramsey Kirk."
In neither letter did he make any allusion to Eva Horn, for he had not the least notion that her name and his were being echoed together in the community. He had gone away, to spend several days at Ashville and was unaware of the forces at work against him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ashville is a resort town high in the Blue Ridge mountains, where farmers come to sell tobacco and outsiders come to enjoy the scenery and anything else that may be available to them.
Ramsey Kirk had come to Ashville to clarify his mind and to get rid of his sexual frustrations. For, religious as he was, he realized that man did not live by bread along; he occasionally required female companionship of the most personal sort. Since Vera had denied him access to her charms, he decided to seek a substitute in the city. As a base of operations, he used the home of his friend and old college chum, Gable Davenport.
Gable Davenport was a homosexual who took great care to keep it a secret. He had even gone so far as to get married, though, naturally, the marriage ended in disaster. His wife had caught him sucking the cock of a young man he had picked up for that purpose.
Ramsey Kirk remembered the incident very well. Laura-that was her name-came to him for advice and blurted out the whole story.
"I couldn't believe my eyes!" she exclaimed. "Imagine! there he was-him and this-this-! On our bed! And Gabe had that man's thing in his mouth! It was disgusting ... I retched all over the floor, Ramsey. All over the floor. Now what do I do? Tell me, Ramsey, what do I do?"
Ramsey stared at her with unblinking eyes, not knowing what to say. After all, Gable was his friend; and though she was obviously unaware of it, he had known about Gable for years. He had, in fact, advised Gable not to marry-Laura or anyone else.
"What did Gabe say to you?" he had asked her that day.
"Say to me! What could he say, for Godsake? He couldn't deny it, could he-after I saw him doing it with my own eyes?"
"He must have said something, Laura."
"Oh, he said something; he said a lot of things," she admitted and rattled on in a state of excitement. "He said he had been that way all his life and couldn't help himself. He said he loved me and asked me to forgive him-to try and understand. Understand! how can a wife understand a thing like that?"
"You might try to understand, Laura," Ramsey had answered. "It can't be too pleasant for him, you know."
"Pleasant for him! What about me?" she cried, wringing her hands. "Do you think I could ever let him kiss me again, after seeing him suck a man's penis? The very thought of ever letting him screw me makes me sick to my stomach! How could he do such a filthy thing?"
"Didn't you ever engage in such an act with another woman?"
Laura had looked at him in horror, as if he had suddenly struck her in the face.
"Ramsey! how can you even ask such a question? Of course I never-why, I'd rather die!"
"Well, a man then. Didn't a man ever go down on you, Laura?"
"No! Normal people don't do that sort of thing."
"Yes, Laura, they do. There is nothing abnormal about it."
She looked at him doubtfully, questioningly.
"You mean that-Have you ever done that to a woman?"
"Of course," he said, smiling slightly. "And until you've tried it, Laura, you shouldn't condemn it."
"That doesn't make sense," she argued. "I condemn murder and I don't think it's necessary to kill someone."
"It isn't the same thing at all," he answered. "Now I'm not standing up for Gabe in this thing, but unless you know what you're talking about there is nothing I can say to you."
She hesitated for a moment, studying all he had said to her. Then she made a decision that startled him.
"Alright!" she said, determinedly. "You've done it and I haven't; suppose you show me. What do I do-take off my clothes?"
"What!" he had cried, completely surprised. "You mean now? You and I?"
"Don't you want to teach me what it is I'm misjudging?" she asked, facing him accusingly. "Didn't you just say I shouldn't without experience? Didn't you mean it?"
"I meant it, of course, but- "
"Do you find me unattractive?"
"No, it isn't that," he said, willing now that he thought of it. "But you're married to Gabe and he's my friend."
"Then do your friend a favor," she said. "Because I intend to bring a scandal down on his head unless you-or someone-can convince me I've been wrong all these years."
So he gave in to his desire and overcame his moral objection. After all, he would be doing Gable a favor when you got right down to it.
"Take off your clothes," he said.
"You too?"
"Me too."
They undressed together, hurriedly, anxious to get the first step over with. She stood before him naked, lovely breasts with strawberry-red nipples inviting him to suck. He was not amazed at her figure, because he had long ago noticed her narrow waist, flaring hips and long, slender legs; but he was pleasantly surprised by her total quality of seductiveness. The brownish clump of pubis stood guard over her hidden charms and incited him to an urgent state of passion that demanded action.
"Shall I lie down on the bed, or what?" she inquired, uncertain of what was expected of her.
"Yes," he gulped. "Lie down on the bed and put a pillow under your as-buttocks and spread your legs a little."
Laura did as he told her and as he crawled upon the bed with her, said:
"Is this it? Don't I do anything at all?"
"Not unless you feel like it," he said, lowering his mouth to contact the pubis. "The important thing is to think pleasant thoughts and relax."
He breathed upon the fine strands of hair and brought his lips to bear upon the uppermost part of her slit. As he did so he felt her body stiffen slightly, as if expecting pain. His tongue went out, gently probing and he located her clitoris and lightly lapped it. Shortly he became aware that his efforts were getting through to her; her stomach muscles contracted at intervals and her fingers were knotted into fists on each hand. He kept his tongue busy, not rushing and soon her buttocks began to undulate in slow motion. Then he knew he had her. He lifted his head and inquired:
"Now, is that bad?"
She nodded her head, meaning "no, it wasn't bad," and he again lapped at her clitoris. Her hands were now resting on the back of his head, ready to hold him should he attempt to stop.
"Oooooh!" she sighed. "Oooooh!"
He slipped his hands beneath her buttocks, gripping them in his fingers and lifting her upwards. She churned furiously as her passion centered itself for an orgasm. With long, low cry of pleasure she found release-pushing against his mouth with all her strength, muscles tight and limbs trembling.
"Lord!" she said, later, relaxed on the bed. "Why didn't Gabe ever do that to me?"
"Because he likes to do it to men," Ramsey answered.
"Shall I do it to you?" she asked, half fearful.
"If you would like to," he said, wishing she'd get to it and shut up. His cock was throbbing with restrained passion and screaming for release.
Desiring and fearful, forcing herself on, Laura hovered above his upright shaft for a brief moment, looking at the pearly drop of moisture shining on its tip. Then she took it in her hand and brushed it with her lips. She opened her mouth and covered the crest, massaging it with her tongue.
"You're doing it fine," he encouraged her.
She raised her head and looked at him, rubbing her lips with her tongue.
"I think it's rather nice," she said. "Shall I continue?"
"Please do!" he said, passionately.
She worked her head up and down until, he could no longer restrain himself. The spasms came, shooting the fluid into her mouth and washing her tonsils. She coughed once or twice, but then, over the initial surprise of the come spurting into her mouth, she managed to gain control. She did not cease sucking and lapping until the last drop of libation had been extracted from his rigid shaft.
"If that is what he likes, why doesn't he let me do it to him?" she asked, thoughtfully, as they were dressing themselves.
"Perhaps he thought you would be shocked at the suggestion," Ramsey told her. "Also, I think, because he desires a man to do it to himself."
"Fine," she said. "From now on he can suck the man and I'll suck him."
"Sounds fair enough," Ramsey answered and sent her along home.
Unfortunately for the marriage, Gable Davenport had not seen the logic in Laura's suggestion; he wanted to make love to a man, not to a man and a woman. He was stilling willing to make love to her, but only in the old fashioned way. This did not set too well with Laura in the light of her new knowledge, so she told him to go to hell. They had remained married, of course and lived in the same house, but she went her way and he went his. The marriage was a disaster but the relationship was a success: they simply ignored one another sexually.
Ramsey Kirk understood the situation; he was a friend to both and both of them liked him. He was always welcome. He was welcome now, though he came with problems of his own.
"We'll have to do something to iron him out," Gable had said, as they sat at dinner.
"We should be able to do it between the two of us," Laura said, laughing.
Ramsey said nothing. He knew how it would be; that is why he had come to Ashville.
He remained in Ashville five days and nights. On the third day he had written two letters, one to Vera and the other to Abel Pierce. Thanks to his friends, Gable and Laura, he was no longer sex-logged and could think straight. The very first night Laura had come to him, and without wasting a moment on preliminaries, she had removed her sheer nightgown and lay down beside him.
"I am so glad you came to see us again," she said. "I have often thought about you, Ramsey."
"What did you think?"
"About that time-remember? You went down on me and I went down on you, but you didn't screw me. I thought of that and wondered why you didn't."
"I've wondered that myself," he answered.
She reached down and started fondling his cock, caressing it tenderly. It sprang to attention, getting instantly rigid and she gave it a little squeeze.
"Tonight we'll take up where we left off," she sighed, kissing him.
Ramsey cupped a breast and rubbed it; then he sent his fingers down toward the pubis and entwined them playful in the neat, shiny brown hairs. His forefinger sought and found the clitoris, which was already reacting expectantly. He could feel the juices exuded by the walls of her cunt, as they dampened the nether lips, to prepare her for intercourse.
"Where is Gabe?" he asked.
"Oh, he has company," she replied. "No need to concern ourselves about him for the rest of the night."
"Anyone I know?"
"I don't think so. He's a stranger to me, thought he is quite handsome."
"Had you planned on being with him-if I hadn't arrived?"
"No. He's not my type. Now let's stop talking, Ramsey. I'm in the mood for that super-duper ramrod you've got. Come on and give it to me."
He rolled on top of her and soon had his cock in to the balls, pumping away. She locked her legs across his back and arched upwards.
"That's what I meant," she sighed. "Oh, that's what I meant! My darling, my darling-don't stop-more! Oh, darling!"
The passion in them mounted to a raging crescendo and they came together-with him spurting his fluid deep into her. Then they lay side by side, resting and preparing themselves for another go.
On the second evening Gable joined them and they had a threesome. While Ramsey lapped at Laura's cunt, Gable sucked his cock. Then they changed positions and while Ramsey fucked Laura, she sucked her husband's cock.
On the third day, after Ramsey had written the letters to Vera Yalton and Abel Pierce, they again enjoyed a three-way release. This time they did an entirely different to Gable. He immediately mounted her and plowed into the exposed orifice. With Gable's cock up her rectum and. Ramsey's up her cunt, Laura went wild with desire and swooned under multiple orgasms as each of the men emptied themselves into her.
"Is there anything we can do to help, Ramsey?" Laura asked, the fourth evening.
"You've helped me immensely already," Ramsey answered. "Nothing to do now but go home and see what happens."
* * *
The effect of Ramsey's letter on Abel Pierce was very marked. Abel felt staggered for a moment by these simple sentences and the straight forward allusions to higher powers. He found himself puzzled and almost weak. First he thought of showing his mother the letter; but he hesitated. Shame kept him waking; then he turned from it as a slight to Vera and his love for her.
All day Thursday he did nothing and hoped that time would deaden his emotions. He wondered how Vera felt towards her letter and became troubled because she had not mentioned it to him. Mrs. Pierce, however, spoke of it, and indeed, had seen it. But he would not hear of the matter from her, until one evening when she made him discuss the subject and told him her own opinions. Henny Pierce had not named Ramsey out of loyalty to her son, but of late many had mentioned him to her and Ramsey's letter to Vera was the last and strongest argument in his favor. The old woman now knew that Abel had terribly erred; and fearlessly she taxed him with his error.
"Abel," she said, "you can't do no more in this. He's honest. He's called God A'mighty to witness it."
"So what?" Abel argued. "So does every criminal. When they're in a corner, they call on God as a witness-because they know He won't answer the call."
"His letter is a Christina letter, son. There's a great power of patience in it. He's cruel sorry he lost his temper against you. But he's wrote you too-though you never told me he had. Abel, you must face the man and own to your mistake."
"Easy to say that. Why do you believe him so sudden?"
"Let me see your letter."
"What for? It's like the rest of him-smug and false, no doubt. All part of his game."
"Let me see it then. You needn't fear me. You know your good is my life. He's nothing to me, but right is right. It's of your good I'm thinking, son. You've hearkened to a lie and you must say no more. The man's innocent."
"Because he says so?"
"Because no guilty man could a-wrote the letter he writ to Vera."
Abel produced the letter from his pocket. It was already much worn at the folds.
"You've read it often enough, I see," said his mother.
"I know it by heart, for that matter," he answered.
Henny put on her spectacles and slowly studied Ramsey's letter, while her son stared darkly at the floor.
"No man ever wrote fairer words to his fellowman that that," said Mrs. Pierce presently. Then she folded up the letter quietly and returned it.
"He's won you over with all his apologizing," Abel said, bitterly.
"And you too. Don't deny it," Mrs. Pierce said. "Don't I know your every look and turn? Face it, son! you've got to lose her an' make peace with yourself. If you take her now, there'll be no more peace in you. This letter-there's truth in it-every word; and you know it, else you wouldn't have read it again and again till it was in tatters."
"Go on! Go on! I'm to throw up my life's hope for a letter an' believe my enemy's pen an' ink stuff against my own knowledge? Never, I won't!"
"Don't roar, son. "Tis no argument to shout. You know I'm right-an' he's right. What you've got against him is a flimsy falsehood in the honest light of day."
"You've been listenin' to other people-instead of me," Abel said, sourly.
"I've heard others tell about it," she answered. "I took your side while I could do it. But now I know 'twas a terrible mistake; an' Vera or no Vera, it's you duty to your soul to confess it."
"My soul's nothing to me, nor my body neither, without her."
"Don't say that, son. Life with a female's only a matter of years. Your soul's a matter of eternity."
"Eternity without her! What's that but hell?"
"I can't argue with you, son. But I can only ask God on my knees to show you where you're so terrible wrong. An' as for Vera, it's got to be, whether you will or not, for he's asked her to meet him up at Hector's Knoll, Saturday noon."
"An' her-what does she intend?"
"She's goin', I believe."
"That's it, then, I reckon."
"It's only the triumph of right, son."
"I don't want to hear none of that rot. That's only your view of right, anyhow; an' you're wrong as often as anybody."
Yet, despite these harsh words, Abel was at that moment nearest yielding. Perhaps he would have yielded, but another idea occurred to him. He looked at his mother and said:
"What about his carrying-on's with Eva Horn?"
His mother nodded her head thoughtfully.
"That's the only thing between them now," she said. "I believe she means to ask him to explain all about that."
"An' if he can't do it?"
"Maybe there's nothin' to say. Him an' Eva Horn was always friends in seemly bounds and Vera knowed it."
The matter dropped. The man mumbled a regret that he had spoken unkindly and his mother kissed him. Then he went to his bed and thought of what to do. More from difficulty of proceeding than from the right and justice of not doing so, he came reluctantly to feel that he would take no further action. Then Eva Horn occurred to him and he asked himself how she was likely to view his determination. He felt that she must know it; and even while he decided to tell her, there rose in his mind a half hope that she might turn him again. His trust in her increased as the night waned. He would see her next morning.
He left his home at dawn before his mother was waking and duly fell in with Eva Horn where he expected to do so: for he knew that she rode early every morning. She rode alone and seeing him, stopped.
"Things have happened," he said. "I must talk with you. I won't keep you long, Miss Horn."
On the right of the path were pine trees and the bushes. She dismounted and turned off the path, walking beside him. Out of sight of the path, she stopped.
"What has happened?" she asked calmly.
"Kirk is back on Narcissus Road."
"I know that. He dines with us on Sunday."
"Sunday is too late, Miss. It's what he'll do on Saturday that concerns me. He wrote letters to me and Vera. He wants her to meet Saturday at Hector's Knoll. I don't see what good it is my going on-unless. Ain't no use in fightin' everybody well as him, an' they's all on his side. I'm in a mind to throw up the sponge. Or else lie behind a hedge for the man and finish him. But I reckon that wouldn't suit you."
"So you just want to quit and let him have your girl, is that it?"
"What can I do? People believe him-not me. The thing has failed. The smartest thing to do is just quit."
"Just quit! Now, when the woman's going to give in to you?"
"Didn't you hear what I said a minute back? She's goin' to meet him tomorrow."
Eva thoughtfully stroked her horse's nose.
"I've made enough enemies as it is," he continued. "What's the good of falling out with the world, if I can't have her?"
"You don't deserve the woman-though she was almost ready to fall into your arms. It's got to be now, whether you like it or not. Other people are interested as well as you. What's the sense of turning coward now? That's the way to convince people you're a scoundrel."
"She's going to meet him at Hector's Knoll on Saturday anyhow."
"My name has not been mentioned?" Eva asked.
"Not by Ramsey. Vera's full enough of it, for that matter. She's apt to ask him straight-out about you."
Eva smiled, suddenly elated.
"I'm going to Narcissus Road and see him this minute," she said. "You let Vera know we've met again."
"You don't understand her," he said, shaking his head. "She'll see him if she's said so. Fate's against us."
"Fates are ready-made, you silly fool. We make our own. Your fate if to marry Vera Yalton. We've got to do a few rather abrupt things and that ends it. How does Vera stand to you?"
"She's terrible miserable."
"Suppose she waits hour after hour up there and he does not come?"
"He will come."
"Not if I keep him away."
"You! You're not strong enough for that."
"What I do will prevent it-not what I say. If you were to go to Vera instead of him and tell her he was not coming and that you had seen him going the other way with me ... "
"I've lied enough, I tell you."
"You won't need to lie! I know him better far than he knows himself-if you can understand that. I can stop this meeting."
"How?"
"He'll go up to the Knoll by way of the bridge turn-off. She'll be on foot, so he'll walk too-that's certain; it isn't too far from his place."
"Alright, so he walks-so what?"
She stroked the horse's nose again and the beast bared its teeth and lovingly nibbled at her hand. Sunlight came through the trees and leaves, still clingin, made a flame of red color behind her where she stood.
"You know the road that turns up under the railway arch?" she asked him.
"There's bushes to the left where a man might lie and watch the road and anything on it. That's all I ask you to do. Then, when you've seen what you will see, you go to the knoll and tell her-part of it."
"You'll be there then?"
"Yes. All you 'be got to do is go up to Vera and tell her that you've seen Ramsey with his arms around me. That'll be true enough, anyway."
"By God! you can get him to do it?"
She laughed.
"His humanity I count upon, not his-Go to the bridge now. I'll show you the ground. There will be a catastrophe of some sort and he'll come in the nick of time to do something."
"What's the good of that? Even if you stop him coming, he'll explain it afterwards."
She showed impatience.
"What a fool you are! Can't you see the rest remains with you? If you were worth your salt, you'd take very good care that it was too late to explain it afterwards. Isn't she sick already of his explanations and all the rest of it? If we could change places and I was you, I'd have the marriage set next Sunday. Take her by storm, man! Let yourself go! What the hell are you frightened of? What is your life good for without her? Tell her the thing is in your hands and that he's faithless and that she shall marry you. Take charge, like a man!"
Abel nodded and took a long breath.
"I'll do it!" he said, determinedly.
"I should think so!" she said. "That letter-to let that shake you! Why, he's playing with you-laughing at you. At the bottom of his heart he wants me. At the top of his heart he thinks he wants Vera. But it's all folly. There must come some definite thing to open his eyes. And so there shall. After Saturday-tomorrow-he'll know he loves me, as well as I know it already. But that's all too deep for you, Abel. Now get across to the railway bridge as quick as you can and I'll wait for you there. Make sure there's nobody in the road before I ride up."
An hour later they met at a spot where a track climbed up out of the country beneath, passed under the railway and ascended the hills.
Abel studied the part he was to play and discovered a hiding-place in the brush from which he might see without being seen.
"You've only got to think of something that would bring you here naturally on Saturday," she told him, "and the rest is easy and straight forward. Now I'm going to call on Ramsey at this home. Goodbye."
And she galloped off, leaving him staring after her. Her words had answered their purpose with him. Her ferocity awoke. A great indifference as to the future made him better able to play his part in the present. He called upon his aunt, Susan Yalton, that night and managed to let Vera know that Ramsey's first act on returning home had been to visit with Eva Horn.
CHAPTER NINE
The first person Abel Pierce encountered after leaving Susan Yalton's house was Richard Barkell; they met on the main street of Tarboro. Richard greeted him in his usual friendly manner and ask how things were going.
"Fine, I reckon," Abel replied.
"I hear Ramsey's back from Ashville," Richard remarked.
"So I heard," Abel admitted. "He wrote me a letter, you know!"
Richard seemed surprised.
"No, I didn't know."
"He asked me to forgive him," Abel said, watching Richard to see what his reaction would be.
"That was big of him, considering," Richard answered, with no change of expression.
"Considering what?"
"That you were the offender," Richard said, chuckling. "Of course, it is something Ramsey would do. He judges himself more harshly than other men."
"You admire him, don't you?"
Richard thought that over before attempting a reply.
"No, I wouldn't say that. I like him-but admire? that's not a word I'd use to describe my feelings toward him. In my opinion he's a fool. One can like but hardly admire a fool."
Abel grinned.
"You're just full of it, ain't you, Dicky boy?"
"Yeah. Guess I do talk a lot," Richard laughed. "What brings you into town, anyway?"
"I was just on my way home from Vera's place."
"Vera? Still on between you two?"
"Now that Kirk's home, I don't know. He's goin' to see her tomorrow. I reckon it's all over for me, where she's concerned."
Richard placed an affectionate arm around his shoulder.
"Well, we can't win e'm all, Abel," he said. "It was a bad play all 'round. What you need is a drink and a little feminine companionship. It'll help take your mind off things. What d'you say-wanta join me?"
"Where you goin'?"
"Maisy Thorton's-How 'bout it? There's a cute little piece over there I been meanin' to try. Name's Emma. Wanta come along?"
"Ah, I don't-" Abel hesitated, undecided.
"Come on," Richard urged. "If it's money you're worried about, forget it-I just got paid today. The night's on me. Come on."
So the two of them headed for Maisy Thorton's place. When they arrived there were only a few customers in attendance and the girls made them welcome. Maisy however frowned on Richard's companion. She took Richard aside and said:
"Abel? Oh, he's alright. Besides, he needs what we can do for him tonight. He's just lost his girl."
"Well, that shows she has brains," Maisy said, still not quite mollified. "But I don't want the likes of him patronizing my place."
"Ah, come on, Maisy," Richard chided her. "Where's your sense of charity? The man's lost. What's the use of dragging it out? Besides, I'm paying."
"Well-"
"Atta girl, Maisy. Now how about a room and some drinks with Emma and another girl. I want to have a party."
"You always pick the best, Dicky," she laughed. "Emma's for you, I suppose."
"You suppose one hundred percent right," he answered.
"The other girl is for your friend?"
"Yeah. Who do you recommend?"
"I'll send Helga," she said. "She believed the lie he told, if I remember correctly. Take room number four-you know where it is."
Helga and Emma joined them in room number four, bringing a bottle of whiskey, ice cubes and glasses on a tray. The room was large, with several chairs, a table and two beds. There was a phonograph, too and Helga immediately switched it on. Jazz music filled the room; a combo was playing "Darktown Strutters Ball."
Richard put an arm around Emma's waist and said to Abel: "This one's mine, friend."
Abel gulped his whiskey and pulled Helga onto his lap.
"I got nothin' to complain of," he said, grinning. "I always did like redheads."
"And I always did like a man," Helga said, laughing and ruffling his hair. "Are you a man, honey?"
"He's a stud!" Richard said, fondling one of Emma's breasts. "He's got one big enough to make you holler, Helga."
"That'll be the day!" Helga laughed.
"Hey, Helga," Emma joined in, "We could measure them and see which has the biggest. Whatta you say?"
"I say that's a great idea!" Helga laughed uproarously. Then she started unzipping Abel's fly and fumbling around inside his trousers. She came forth holding his cock in her hand. "I've got his," she called to Emma. "How you doin' with your fellow's?"
Emma soon had Richard's shaft in view and she swung it gently from side to side.
"I'm doin' good so far," she said. "Now all we got to do is make 'em stand up like soldiers."
"Well, if we're going to play this game, we ought to take our clothes off," Richard said; and began loosening his belt.
The two men, aided by the two girls, giggling all the while, soon stood naked.
"Ain't fair, girls," Abel said. "You gotta take off them slips you're wearing. If you're gonna measure our joy sticks, we oughta at least see your honey pots while you're doing it."
"That's what I say!" Richard cried, reaching for another shot of whiskey.
Emma and Helga responded by immediately removing all their garments. Abel whistled, his eyes traveling from one to the other.
"By granny, Dicky boy, I'm damn glad you talked me into coming here. These girls is got what it takes to make a man forget his troubles, alright!"
Richard reached out and patted Emma's pubis.
"Emma baby, you've got the most beautiful cunt in the whole goddamn county!"
"You've seen them all, have you?" she inquired, affecting mockery.
"Damn near!" Abel said, laughing. "An' the ones he didn't see, I've seen. Ain't that right, Dicky boy?"
"Helga," Richard called, nodding toward Abel, "I want you to take good care of my friend. He needs comfort and understanding; he's in a bad sort of way."
"He doesn't look so bad from where I stand," Helga said, eyeing his cock appreciatively. "You were right-he's a stud. Emma, would you look at the size of this thing."
And she skinned it back and held it erect, the bulbous crest extending above her hand.
Emma did the same for Richard's shaft and said:
"This one is no midget either."
The girls then agreed that in the shaft department the men were well-hung.
"I pronounce it a tie," Helga said. "Now let's see if we can make 'em do some tricks."
She fell to her knees and put her head in Abel's crotch and lapped at his balls. Then she licked his cock from bottom to top and covered the crest with her mouth.
Emma, not wanting to be outdone, knelt before Richard and gazed fondly upon the instrument of his manhood.
"Honey," she said, "I'm going to eat you alive!"
She took his cock in her mouth and started working it over.
"Emma baby," he panted, "take it easy. You're goin' to have me spurting my juices in a minute."
She raised her head to look up at him, stroking his shaft as she did so.
"What's the matter-can't you come twice?"
"Emma baby, if you're willing, I can come half dozen times. You just get the first load out and I'll save the second for your sweet little honey pot."
She lowered her head again and gave him a professional blow job, causing him to shoot-off in a matter of minutes. She sucked out his juices and swallowed it all. He grew limp in the chair and sighed:
"That's what I call a real eating treat!"
Abel was in the throes of orgasm and the muscles in his legs were jerking. He thrust upward, driving deeper into Helga's hungry mouth, until she got from him every drop of fluid his body could eject.
"Honey," she told him, "I feel as if you shot a quart. You must have been saving that load for a long time."
They had another shot of whiskey each and paired off on the beds, ramming their shafts into the moist cunts and humping a mile a minute ...
* * *
Eva Horn was aware of the fact that no small thing would keep Ramsey Kirk from his tryst at Hector's Knoll. When she called on him at his house, after leaving Abel at the bridge, he had been full of apparent contentment and she had guessed the reason why. She enveloped him, as usual, in the gentle and genial atmosphere of her own great regard for him; and this atmosphere with customary skill she regulated; made more dense when he was preoccupied and lightened when he had most leisure of mind to perceive it.
Only one day remained in which to make her preparations. She understood that a wide patience must mark her future attitude; but the immediate problem was simple: to keep Ramsey and Vera apart until the latter's patience became exhausted and she found herself without courage to fight Abel Pierce further. Let her be removed safely out of his life and Eva felt confident that time would bring Ramsey to her. But it might be a considerable time. For the moment it was necessary to prevent him from going to Hector's Knoll at the appointed hour. The crude outline of her action had presented itself in the woods while she spoke with Abel Pierce. Now she set to work to fill in the details. The main scheme was simple enough in its reckless violence, though some, subtleties branched from it. Eva wondered if she could with safety speak to Vera before the meeting on the knoll, but she abandoned the idea and it was accident, not design, that actually brought them together on that day.
The morning dawned too bright and the south already spoke of rain, while the sky was clear and the earth brilliant with low sunshine and a glitter of frost. Two men and two women regarded that uncertain dawn with interest and all four understood how largely the day must bulk upon their lives. Two were working together; two acted independently and expected presently to meet on the secret mountain-top of Hector's Knoll, hidden from every eye but that of the sun.
Eva Horn left her home soon after ten o'clock. She drove an old buggy and an old horse and her object as understood at home was one of charity. A venerable couple lived on the road five miles from the railway bridge. The man had worked for Ralph Horn in bygone days and hearing now that these people were suffering, Eva decided to comfort them. She set forth with a basket of good things, some clothing from her mother and from her father twenty dollars. The road was rough and in parts scarcely defined. Therefore she took a worthless vehicle. The aged horse that drew it had also seen his best days and was seldom put to work. Eva, however, preserved him out of consideration for his honorable and extended career. She always hated to destroy a horse.
"It's a risk," said the hired hand. "The axle's very near through. You shouldn't drive it, Miss Horn-specially on that road and that distance."
But Eva knew all about the axle and went her way.
The road led through Tarboro and just beyond that town, the horse overtook Vera and its driver stopped, bent down and shook hands.
"Good morning!" Eva greeted her. "It's a nice day, isn't it? Are you going my way, or do you turn off at
isn't it? Are you going my way, or do you turn off at the side road to Hector's Knoll? Of course, I know you do-how stupid of me."
Vera's dark face, placid till then, clouded as she met the smiling woman's eyes.
Vera carried a basket which contained food. She was taking a picnic lunch for Ramsey and herself. Now she became painfully conscious that Eva smiled at her preparations. She moved the basket nervously from hand to hand while the other spoke to her.
"I do hope it remains clear today," Eva said. "You are on your way to Hector's Knoll-am I right?"
Vera's face burned. For one moment a flood of passionate words leapt to her throat and nearly choked her. Then she partly mastered herself.
"Go away and keep away from me, if you can," she burst out.
"Why-whatever-!" cried Vera.
But she spoke to air, for Vera had turned back. Not until Eva, with a world of wonder on her lovely face, trotted forward again, did Vera pursue her own road.
She was desperate and sore driven. After having words with Eva, Abel gave his cousin but little peace. Especially he had made her understand that Ramsey and Eva Horn were meeting constantly since his return home. Her heart grew very cold before this news and more than once she determined with herself not to make the journey to Hector's Knoll. Yet, after much fret of spirit, she decided to do so. The end she knew not; she only knew that she had forgiven him entirely-except for the difficulty that stood between them now. After long battles with her jealousy she conquered it to the extent of keeping the appointment that he had made for her. Then, as unkind chance decreed, even upon the way to him, Eva had appeared. It was not the meeting that now darkened Vera's spirit, but the vile fact that Eva knew all about her business and the rendezvous with Ramsey. This, naturally, she had set to his account and it terribly hurt her. She herself had shown Ramsey's letter to her aunts and taken their opinion upon it; but she found it hard to forgive him for mentioning his proposition to others; and Eva Horn last of all. Once or twice reason struggled with her and she remembered her aunt's opinion: that probably Ramsey regarded Eva as a sister in this matter. But the idea brought no comfort to her and in sorrow and distress of heart she climbed to the knoll. As she tramped over the sombre miles, she rehearsed speeches and questions that should strike at this problem from the various points of view and set it at rest forever.
She looked at a little watch that Ramsey had given her and believed that within the hour they must meet. Then she reflected that Eva might very possibly fall in with Ramsey upon his way. From that to the conviction that she designed to do so was but a step.
"Before God this is the last chance I'll give him!" she thought with suffering. "I'm here at his will, an' if he don't come to me with a clean breast from all these dealings with that grinning devil, I'll drop him for good!"
And while she walked on her way, the tenderness in her stricken harshly by this meeting, Eva, well pleased at such an unexpected incident, went forward until she reached the lonely, junction of roads where her part was to be played. She passed under the railway bridge, satisfied herself that no eye was upon her and made swift preparations. One thing only remained to do and she waited for Abel Pierce to do it. He arrived presently and then, taking a file from the buggy and she showed him where to work. In two minutes, with a few touches, he had reduced the cracked axle to a dangerous pitch. Now it needed only another jolt to break it altogether. Eva then directed Abel to get out of sight and keep out of sight.
"Something is going to happen as soon as he comes," she said calmly, as she flung the file away into a ditch by the roadside. "All you've got to do is to witness it. Then go straight to Hector's Knoll and after Vera is weary of waiting, you can approach her and tell her-not the truth altogether, but a part of it. I should think she'll be satisfied if you say you came around the corner of that bridge and saw me in his arms. What really happens we must try and keep from her for a time. Be a man for once and have the announcement of your wedding released."
Pierce now dimly suspected what was coming.
"Don't kill yourself, that's all," he said.
"Whatever happens, you need not come to help him. See what you're supposed to see: only that; then clear out and go to Vera."
He disappeared into hiding and she waited with glances cast behind her.
Twenty minutes passed. A train ran by, but Eva drove under the railway bridge so that no passenger might chance to see her. The old horse strained forward to drag a mouthful from the brush. Then Ramsey appeared, approaching swiftly. Eva saw him, leapt into the buggy, whipped up the animal, took him round the corner and sent him straight over the edge of the road into a pool-like part of the ditch that extended beside it. The fall was a foot and the concussion broke the axle, brought down the horse and threw Eva on top of him. She had partly jumped, partly fallen forward and as she came down, a buckle cut her chin to the bone. She felt the hot blood and smiled.
When Ramsey turned the corner thirty seconds later, he found the buggy smashed, the horse screaming with a broken foreleg and the woman face down in the ditch bleeding freely from her face and apparently dead.
He was swift and resolute. For a moment, indeed, despair touched him when he recollected how far he stood from every sort of help, but he set to work with a will, drew Eva from the wreck, propped her against a bank and attempted to restore her. She fell forward in a limp, unconscious heap and Ramsey's arm went around her. Then the unseen watcher understood and went his way. It would now be exceedingly easy for him to lie like truth.
As for Eva Horn, the glory of the moment fired her and she played her part as well as it could be played. She was proud, even at that moment, of her acting and sorry none would ever know and admire such skill. But the world is full of high histrionism know only to the performers-the superb art that conceals art from all but the artist.
Yet, while never losing touch of the impersonation, she rose somewhat above theatricals also; for the blood on her face, his arm round her and the shrill agony of the horse wrought upon her; and nature, in shape of a shadowed hysteria, crowned the masterpiece. She was never really unconscious, but simulated that state until the man began to fear for her life. He knew nothing as to what he should do. Once or twice he ran a little way. Then he came back, soaked his handkerchief in the ditch and held it to her forehead. When he left her side, she rolled inert; therefore he kept his arm round her.
At last she let herself open her eyes, but suffered no speculation to light them. She had decided exactly what words to say at this point and now, in a voice as faint as the last whisper of the dying, she spoke, but showed no sign that she knew whether man or woman attended her.
"It's dark ... so dark! Open my dress-my bra ... I can't breathe!"
The words came like a sigh of wind along some winter valley. They were faint and clear. Then her consciousness appeared to flutter out again and her head fell forward.
With clumsy fingers he obeyed her; and his common sense proceeded to do more. He began to feel her rib cage, pressing here and there, to see whether any bones were broken. His palms caressed gently over her breasts, warming the nipples. Then he looked anxiously to see if any good came of it.
She seemed to breathe more easily and he felt her limpness slowly stiffening. Again her gray eyes opened; but the lids lifted only a fraction over them.
"My heart-feel my heart! I think it's stopping!" she said in stronger tones. Then she drooped again.
Ramsey was flustered now, and forgetting her pulse, obeyed literally. Once again he felt the round, warm globe of her left breast under his hand; and he felt her heart beating hard.
"Thank God! Thank God!" he murmured. "You're better, Eva. It's all right. Your heart is going like mad!"
"Who-who?" she mumbled, opening her eyes slightly to peer uncertainly at the face above her. "It's you, Ramsey-dear Ramsey!" she cried and her eyes opened widely with a sudden flood of returned consciousness and recognition. He was drawing his hand away, but she put both hers over it and held it tightly.
"Don't move yet! Don't move!" she cried, softly. "You've saved my life."
Her emotion continued to help her art. She abandoned herself to a great outburst of tears, let herself go utterly, clung to him, kissed his sleeve and saw the blood from her chin dabble his coat. Ramsey-now satisfied that she was not fatally hurt-began to feel uncomfortable.
"Cheer up, cheer up!" he said. "Don't cry any more. It will only weaken you. Let me try and stop this bleeding. It's a pretty bad cut, Eva; but it'll be all right. Are you hurt anywhere? Can you move?"
Still clinging to him, she attempted to rise. Then she fell back with a little scream.
"My ankle!" she said.
Her breasts rose and fell after the storm. He saw her suddenly appear to realize the disorder of her dress and try in vain with shaking fingers to cover herself. Then he moved a little from her side and made attempt to calm her mind.
"Don't go away! Don't go away!" she cried to him
"No, no, I'm not going, I'll just leave you to-your horse, Eva-poor old Brown Boy; he's done for. He must be shot. His right foreleg's horribly smashed."
She wept anew to hear this sorrowful tale and it was long before she would suffer him to leave her or go for necessary help. At last he prevailed upon her, but promised, on his word of honor, that he would not be gone more than thirty minutes. Then she reluctantly allowed him to go.
While he was absent, she composed herself. Two ideas filled her mind: the thought of his hand on her breast and the torture of the injured animal. Brown Boy had made a good end for a good cause. He had served her for many years and never better than today. She went to his head where he lay flat and watched his nostrils working. Then she grew angry at the delay, but knew not how herself to end the beast's sufferings. When Ramsey came back, finally, with two men, a car and a loaded gun, Eva was sitting by the head of the animal and talking to him.
She limped and leant heavily on Ramsey. Then he brought a bottle out of his pocket and offered it to her.
"It's whiskey and water," he said; "the only thing old man Basset had in his house. Please drink some."
She obeyed and he spoke again.
I've sent a message to your father," he said. "He'll probably be waiting at Basset's by the time you get there. And I said if we weren't there, to come on here. But, if we go now, we can drive you in this car and save time."
"I'll try to walk," she said, as he helped her up. "With your arm I might manage it."
She limped painfully.
"Yes, I'll walk to the car-it can't make it any worse. Only I must see the end of Brown Boy before I go."
"Sam here will do that," Ramsey answered her. "You've had enough to suffer for one day."
But Eva shook her head and the tears choked her. She knew that he admired her great physical bravery at all times; therefore she exercised it now.
The man stood with his gun, waiting for her to go. Then she knelt down by Brown Boy and pointed to a place behind his ear.
"There," she said, "Do it quickly."
She clasped her hands and watched with a tense and straining face; then, when the existence of the animal was closed, she took Ramsey's arm and limped away. Again she wept.
"It must be brought home, to the farm, to be buried," she said.
"How did this dreadful 'thing happen?" Ramsey asked, hoping to distract her mind. "Can you remember?"
"I don't know," she answered. "I never shall know. I was day-dreaming and driving carelessly when something-a covey of birds, I think-terrified Brown Boy. Before I knew what had happened he was off the road in the ditch and the old buggy-our man actually warned me against it this very morning!"
"Where were you going?"
"To Haycraft and his wife with some things-food and a little money daddy wanted them to have."
"Are you in great pain?"
"That's nothing; I'm glad of it. It keeps my wits about me."
He looked at the sky. The day was darkening. Helplessly, heavily, his mind flew to Hector's Knoll; and Eva knew it.
They drove to Basset's and stopped. Her father had not come yet and when he did, Eva refused to be driven anywhere without Ramsey.
He was about to excuse himself when she fainted again. So Ramsey went with her to her home as fast as he could safely drive. Even when she would not let him go until the doctor came and her mother also implored him to remain, because, she said, it meant so much to Eva to have him there.
Not until it turned dark was he free to depart. By that time rain fell heavily and Hector's Knoll was cowled in its familiar hood of wet darkness.
CHAPTER TEN
Ramsey went straight to the home of the Yalton's and his own affairs filled his brain painfully. Yet upon them intruded the heart of Eva beating under his hand; and her blood-stained loveliness mingled with the vision of Vera waiting in lonely patience on Hector's Knoll.
When he reached Vera's door and knocked at it, there came no answering light or footstep. The place was dark and empty. He knocked again and again; then a neighbor appeared and informed him that Susan Yalton and her niece were both absent. The hour of their return was not known.
"Perhaps she never went to Hector's Knoll at all," he thought.
Ignorant of where to seek her and himself physically exhausted by a long day without food, he went home. His purpose was to eat, change his wet garments and return some hours later. But after putting on dry things and partaking of a heavy meal, he sat down on the divan to rest and fell asleep there.
It was nearly three o'clock on Sunday morning before he awoke in darkness. He felt cold and wretched, and oppressively conscious of coming trouble. He drank a stiff glass of whiskey and went to bed.
From the summit of Hector's Knoll the stir of the sky was visible and clouds that huddled their smokiness over the southern horizon, though huge in magnitude, yet filled but a small part of the immensity of the air. From their bosoms rain slanted sharply and made a haze of light against the darkness; but the storm was many miles distant; it travelled slowly; the moil and mass of it thinned to the southwest, then burst away into flame and azure about the naked, noonday sun.
Vera Yalton waited very patiently, watched the south threaten and wondered why Ramsey did not come. She walked hither and thither to warm herself and every half hour went a little way towards the direction he must take. Then, with sinking heart, she returned to their place and sat down against a boulder sheltered from the wind. The day became overcast. From hope and peace of her soul turned and grew faint and sick. There rose a wave of anger once-like the first pulse of the rain after long drought. It passed and left her empty of all emotion. She turned over the food in her basket, but, though physically hungered, had no heart to eat. It was now nearly three in the afternoon.
At last a spot moved across the mighty loneliness. Abel Pierce had hidden far off and watched her roaming, now here, now there. He hurried forward and it became a question whether the man or the rain would reach her first. Thinking that it was Ramsey, Vera leapt up; then a recoil of feeling made her turn her back and put rocks between them and steal to the other side of the knoll. She was even in a mind to hide from him and let him search for her and not find her. She felt ashamed of herself for having waited so long. Finally, between indifference and chagrin, she adopted a middle course, sat with her back to the approaching figure and pretended to eat.
Then the footsteps came close and Vera started and rose to her feet, for it was Abel Pierce and not Ramsey who stood before her with his eyes upon her own.
In a moment he was beside her and to her amazement, advanced boldly, put his arms round her, embraced her with all his strength and kissed her. She struggled fiercely, remembering the last time and felt his breast heaving with the speed of his progress.
"Let me go-let me go-how dare you?" she cried, thrusting him from her.
"Forgive me, Vera," he said, breathing heavily. "I couldn't help it, knowin' what I know and seein' what I've seen today."
"Ramsey-?"
"He's not comin', Vera."
"Not coming-not-how do you know that?"
She fell back where she had sat beside her basket and now shrank from his ardent eyes until her shoulders pressed against the granite behind her.
"Let me sit down," he said, pleadingly, "an' I'll tell you everything."
He approached again, but did not touch her.
"Chance throwed me in sight of Ramsey down along. Oh, Vera, I couldn't hardly believe my own eyesight. But it was true enough-that woman! I corned up behind 'em silent like and sudden in a lonely place sitting by the roadside, an' his arms-she was in 'em-happy and proud to be there!"
"Then she planned it," Vera said coldly. "She went to stop him coming here."
"You say that!"
"I met her myself, on my way up here. She was driving in a buggy. But how do I know you're telling the truth?"
"Because I speak it. If it's a lie, you can prove it by asking Ramsey. Well you know it's true!"
"It's true enough, I dare say."
"They were there-heart to heart-and his face blazin', an' her head cuddled to him-as God's my judge. White as a dog's tooth with passion she was. I seed all through a bush-all. Him rubbing her tits, an' her a-sighin' to heaven. Up to their May games beside a public road!"
"They saw you?"
"Might have, but didn't. No room in their eyes or ears but themselves. Wouldn't have seed me if I'd walked past 'em."
"Lyin' sonofa-!" she blurted, angrily. "And he called God to witness! His hand on her breasts, you say?"
"I'm sorry, Vera, but I tried often to tell you. He cares nothing in his heart for you-only that Horn woman. He was playin' with you all these months, an' nothin' more. Gettin' what he could get, an' laughin' behind your back. A word from her an' he'd leave you to die an' rot up here afore he'd come to you. Her lips on his was enough, no doubt-dog that he is."
"You saw it?"
"May I never lift this arm again if I did not. I waited and watched to see if he'd come up here after, yet knowed all along he wouldn't."
The present indignity troubled Vera. Her mind could not cope with the monstrous truth in a moment. It was too large to measure while in the company of any other. A trivial fact came to her lips.
"To make me trapse all up here for nothing," she said feebly. Then she looked at the rain-laden sky.
"Be thankful it was for nothing," Abel said, consolingly. "A very narrow escape for you. He'd soon enough have sickened of your honest soul and turned his eyes to others as crooked-hearted as hisself-like he's done afore."
"He was coming to me and she stopped him."
"Granted. What fashion of man be that to let a woman do it? Her arms round his neck-her breath on his cheek-was enough. All hell let loose wouldn't have stopped me. Oh, Vera can you torment me anymore? Haven't I done enough for you?"
"Why did you come to tell me this?"
"What more natural? Don't I love you with every breath I take? Was you to wait here alone with sorrow for evermore because he forgot you?"
"And you?"
"I don't change. Your good is my life. Only don't think I've turned him away from you, Vera. He's turned himself away."
"I believe that now," she said.
A rush of rain swept over them and she saw the moisture make shining spots on his face. His face was close to hers. His eyes burned with imperishable love. For the moment he firmly believed himself both honorable and true; because great love often deludes a lover, not only concerning the object, but also about himself. At such times he may be dazzled by his own light.
Abel felt her to be within reach at last. Her silences spoke loudly to him. Her hesitation was full of promise. Once let her say "yes" and she would change no more.
She looked up at the gloomy sky.
"Vera! Vera, ain't I nothing to you?"
For a moment more she sat irresolute, helpless, dumb; then she wept very bitterly and suffered his embraces. He devoured her mouth with kisses, pressing her softness against him. His hand found its way to the hem of her dress and travelled up the insides of her thighs. His hand came to rest on the warmness of her nether lips and he fingered for her clitoris. There was a slow drizzle, but they ignored it. Her sobs slackened, turned to whimpers and finally, to sighs. The gentle pressure of his fingers generated a vivid passion between her inner thighs. The walls of her cunt exuded beads of lubricating fluid, preparing her slit for intercourse. Her own hand groped at his trousers, seeking his manly instrument.
"Love me, Vera," he said. "You'll never be sorry. He's not the man for you, an' well you know it."
"I will love you," she answered, moved with passion. "I want to feel you exploding inside me. I'm yours if you want me-marriage and all."
"I want you more than life," he said, tugging at her panties. She deftly aided him and the panties slipped down below her knees. Then one leg was withdrawn and her cunt was now open to him. He rolled between her legs and penetrated, driving his cock furiously deep into her cunt. She surrendered now to the pleasure of the moment, twisting and grinding and moaning beneath the heavy thrusts of his manhood. The crest of cock struck her womb at every stroke and it made her emit little groans of ecstasy.
"I was a fool not to listen to you," she sighed, nibbling at his ear lobe. "You feel so good in me, Abel-so-o-o goo-good!"
Almost immediately afterwards they set off to his mother's house. The great hill behind them was swallowed in gray rain and Vera's basket, forgotten, stood beside the place where she had waited.
* * *
After heavy rain Narcissus Road stretched bright as a river under the gray light of noon. Every pit or inequality was a pool and the ditches ran full. The day was Sunday; it was damp and raw, but rain had ceased for a time.
Two men walked along this soaking road and talked. One was Richard Barkell, the other Ramsey Kirk. Richard had come from church, seen Ramsey and joined him.
"I'll walk home with you a-ways, Ramsey," he said. "I want to talk to you."
Ramsey nodded.
"I've got a lot on my mind today, Dick. Fate's hard and I can't see that what has happened was right to happen, though no doubt it was-else it wouldn't have happened."
"A very comforting outlook."
"I was to have met Vera yesterday and talk things out-make up with her, you know. But something came between. And now I've called to explain and it's the same old story again-dust and ashes. She won't see me and sends word that she never will no more-never. God knows what it means."
"And a few others," Richard said. "I was to church today, Ramsey, along with my father. He likes me to take him there. It was announced that Abel Pierce and Vera Yalton were to be married next week."
Ramsey stood still.
"Married?"
Richard nodded.
"What the preacher said."
"She could do that without hearing me explain?"
"Apparently. What kept you? It was a ticklish time to stay away, after all that's happened."
"Life or death kept me," Ramsey explained. "Eva Horn had been thrown out of her buggy, and by good chance, I found her unconscious and bleeding to death. I saved her life, no doubt."
"Good chance, you say? A damned bad chance for you. And yet-maybe you're right."
"How could I go on? I had my hands full."
"Full of Eva, no doubt. And that's what she's heard. And that's why you're out of the picture."
"What could a man do? Surely common sense-humanity-"
"Common sense has lost many a woman. I'll swear it never won one."
"To think that she-"
"Shows you what the woman's worth, Ramsey."
"It shows I've got enemies-that's what it shows. Would that ignorant man have had the power to steal her away single-handed?"
"Why not? He has a fine brown face and a great power of energy. He wasn't so busy about his own affairs as you neither. Had more time to talk nonsense to her- an' tell lies. Perhaps she don't know her own mind yet. You ought to go back and break in the door and stand before her and talk a bit of stark sense to her. That's what she wants to hear."
Ramsey shook his head.
"No," he answered. "I must do no more. I loved the woman better than anything in the world; better than any high hope I had this side of heaven. I thought and planned and cut out the future for her. I put her first. Nothing was too great for me to reach-for her."
"You'll go further alone."
"The stubborness-the injustice-not to hear my side of it. That she could doubt was bad enough. She ought to have said, 'I know Ramsey. He's not kept his word and for that there's a tremendous reason.' She ought to have gone home without a flutter of doubt. She ought- instead, she jumped to evil thinking against me. And now she's gone. A very single-eyed woman once, Richard. All or none with her. But she didn't love me same as I loved her."
"You may have her yet."
"A man has his pride. He owes himself that. I forgive her. It isn't her fault-not all of it. I've been wickedly wronged in this; and so has she. But it's over now-she'll not turn again."
"Ramsey, it was a pity you didn't-"
"I know, I know all that. I'll rub that into myself sharper than you will. I've acted like a fool. I've been too trusting-to easy-to hopeful of goodness in all men-too ready to read good motives in 'em."
"Many cheerful young sparks begin so. You've been too trusting without a doubt. A great trust in people and an outlook-just so broad and high as your own hopes. But don't take it over-much to heart. You're not the first man a woman has ever jilted."
"It wasn't her fault, I tell you!"
"The end's the same."
"I see my life," Ramsey said, "I see myself working as few men have worked, leaping to every shadow of a chance to push ahead, never missing the least offer. And all the same I've trusted in man as few trust him."
"And in God," murmured Richard. "One's as tricky as the other."
"You're a fool, Dick. But it isn't God-it's the man. I forgive Vera. This is no work of hers."
"That's stupid, Ramsey. How can you think that. Didn't you hear me say the preacher announced their wedding in church? He wouldn't have done that without her knowledge and consent. Women! They're all alike- and their hearts are the stones in sugar-ripe plums, hard!"
"Pierce is a lying, back-biting, four man, Dick!"
"He is-when the winds blows east. Nobody's straight all round."
"He don't deserve one spark of happiness."
"Then odds are in his favor that he'll get it."
"I might take the law in my own hands, but for her. She chose him."
"Better go to church and pray, Ramsey."
"You advise me out of a sneering heart. Yet it makes more sense than anything you've said to me."
"You intend to grin and bear it, then?"
"I'll be patient, if I can. I don't realize my loss yet. Think of her dead-dead to me, anyway."
"Patience is a grand thing, Ramsey."
"You think I'm cringing to my Maker like a cur under this. That's because you're Godless yourself and don't understand.
"If I'm wrong, I'll confess it without a tremble, Ramsey. Go on with your life and see where it lands you. Go on trusting and see what the future is like that God has planned for you."
"I'll do that, because I must-we all must. If life teaches me to doubt all living, it will never shake my trust in God."
"Then let me be your friend, Ramsey. I wish you nothing but good and I'll aid you so long as it is in my power. Don't scoff at us lookers-on. We often come in useful."
"A friendless man is a useless man."
"She ain't worth the worry, Ramsey. Shut her from her mind."
"Goodbye," answered Ramsey. "It seems strange to me that such a cold-blooded man as you was sent to tell me this harsh news."
"Better for you than some milder fashion of fool, full of soft soap and sympathy. See how cool you are yourself: that's because I am. If I'd begun saying how sorry I was, you'd have knocked me down. You'll understand when few months have rolled over you. Goodbye-and, trust or no trust, I'm your friend and you know it."
The two men separated in Ramsey's year and Richard Barkell started slowly homewards. Ramsey Kirk went into the house and made ready to go to the Horn house for Sunday dinner.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Vera Yalton first heard the true explanation of Ramsey's absence several days prior to her wedding. The matter came through minor channels: she did not hear it from Ramsey. When Abel Pierce was called upon to explain his statement, he found no difficulty in doing so. It was not denied that Eva Horn had reposed in her rescuer's arms and Abel merely chronicled the fact. He explained that he had witnessed the embrace through bushes at a considerable distance and then gone his way quite ignorant of all that went before. He offered to release Vera when the facts became known, but not until he knew that she had determined with herself. Ramsey was right when he said Vera did not easily change. With very genuine and bitter grief she took the great step of throwing him over; but having done so, she did not turn back of look back. Conscious of wrong in right and right in wrong, believing the threads of this misfortune too tangled for extrication, she balanced Ramsey's errors against her own and banished the subject by force of will and natural narrowness of mind.
Abel Pierce became her life. She refused to torture her mind any more with a dark and difficult past; but thrust it and all that belonged to it away and faced the future resolutely. For Pierce-as part of him, to toil and fight for him and only him, she now stood. She was not logical and she was not reasonable; but it cannot be denied that, having decided, she was sensible. Her mind fashioned in one compartment, contained no room for large synthetical operations and abstract justice was not a quality of it. But she had a power of deliberately narrowing her outlook and such limitation of interest begot increased intensity, as a stream wastes its strength upon the broad shallows but applies it to full purpose in some narrow channel. Abel Pierce, if a bad man, was a good lover. He and Vera made immediate preparations for their marriage. He engaged himself to do permanent work at Meldon quarry; she promised to come and live at his house at his request.
Within two weeks Vera was married. She set about the business of wifehood in a staunch spirit that turned neither to the right nor left; while as for Abel, he soon felt the pricks grow blunt and from uneasiness at his past skullduggery, drifted into indifference and thence to content. He was proud of Vera and she blessed his home abundantly. All envied him such sustained happiness. He had a mother and wife who lived for him and ministered to his every want, softened his dark moments, shared his hopes and strengthened his ambitions. Vera imparted her outlook to him. He grew more self-respecting and was presently promoted to be foreman of a quarry gang. He saved weekly; he fell in with his mother's wish-vain till now-and often took her to church on Sunday. But Vera was not fond of worship. Therefore she usually stopped at home and cooked dinner.
Ramsey Kirk dwindled to a mere name in the Pierce household, though Abel, now himself grown ambitious, watched the other's progress keenly. No jealousy marked this attitude. He was glad that Ramsey was successful and his old enemy's wealth illogically but naturally sooth-his own conscience. One uneasiness reigned in his heart, however, for Ramsey's engagement to Eva Horn was not announced. Daily he expected it, but the news never came. Vera also could not escape from thought upon that matter and she marveled that her former lover remained unattached. To her, as to her husband, the fact that he should do so was painful; and in addition, Abel went under a secret care, for his accomplice never acknowledged him again after the day of her accident. They met more than once alone, but she appeared to have forgotten his existence and passed him without a sign. At first he was satisfied at this and felt it to right and wise; but when months went by and Ramsey remained single, Pierce grew anxious and wondered if Eva-in face of Ramsey's indifference-would not presently plan a revenge which might involve his welfare. He was haunted by the fear for a time; then it faded and with passage of days his content increased and he lived in the full bliss of the time and found each hour with Vera a feast. After all, he reasoned, Eva Horn could not say anything about him without involving herself. He had fucked her in the hills, hadn't he? She wouldn't want that known ...
Ramsey Kirk likewise pursued his road. None knew of the full bitterness of his grief or the darkness of spirit that encompassed him for many months. It was significant of his genuine love that even ambition fained awhile beneath this blow. In his tribulation periods of natural rage flooded Ramsey's mind and he had much ado to control his wrath and deny it shape of action. But in these earlier years Ramsey was at his best. He had ripened swiftly and attained to fruition while yet young. He had matured without any winter of sorrow to sweeten him. Without being shallow, he was yet one whose emotions were more keen than deep. Religion for such a nature often suffices. It guides the grief-stricken swiftly through the pinch of affliction and offers the needed anodyne during the moments of critical stress. But more subterranean spirits find it vain. Them a master-sorrow dominates forever and while hidden from all eyes, still lives and leaves its torch upon the heart, its furrows and haggard traces in the soul. Faith is seldom the strength of men who feel deeply' and reason cannot dry all tears. To the rational sufferer separation is eternal, death final. His stern solace is the knowledge that he endures the immemorial tortures of all conscious existence since its dawn in tertiary times; that the dust under this feet has suffered as he suffers today; that after eight thousand years of man, no human agony is new; and that the thingthing which cannot be borne brings its own end with it. And if he is strong to survive and go on with life and justify his days, for him Time, who forgets no sorrowful heart, shall presently tend the inner, everlasting wounds, so that they throb with intermittent stroke alone.
Ramsey, in fine humility, looked to his religion to lift him above this mighty trial. In due season the dominant forces of his own nature reasserted themselves and obliterated the poignant details of the past. After three months he was lifting his head again among men. His own trials he doubted not were sent for high purposes by a watchful God. He suspected that they would raise him, fortify him, arm him against the further problems that life held hidden. He did not repine; he endured; and at the bottom of his heart was a germ of pride that he had stood so strong against the storm.
For the present he plunged into affairs and found in ceaseless toil a respite from thought. Minor successes fell to his lot. He also undertook various important duties for Ralph Horn, who was indisposed during springtime. To Ramsey fell the conduct of some considerable stock sales, together with attendance at markets. After his own judgment of horned beasts, the farmer rated most highly that of Ramsey Kirk; and since Ramsey entertained a lively regard for the old man, he was glad enough to serve in this matter.
So it came about, in April, that Ramsey traveled from Ashville to the coast town of Wilmington; and there the great voice of the sea drew him. He took the road over the lowlands and approached the ocean. He arrived at Wrightsville, on the seashore and before him league-long surges rolled and the great song of sea and sand murmured upon his ears.
Here chanced a meeting that served much to astonish two people and created a very mistaken impression in the mind of one.
Ramsey knew, of course, that Eva Horn was away from home, but he was unaware of her whereabouts. His astonishment appeared in his face as she suddenly confronted him on the walk at Wrightsville Beach.
Eva, who was visiting a friend, found it natural to start and flush at this surprise. Ignorant of the truth, she supposed that Ramsey was here for the purpose of seeing her. It appeared most improbably that this lengthy expedition could have been made for any lessor reason. In fact, she doubted not that her reward was at hand. Despite the fact that, after her accident, Ramsey had called only three times to learn how she fared, she now let her hunger and thirst run riot. Her eyes shone upon him, She uttered a little, glad, inarticulate sound and held out her hands.
He took one of them and she let the other fall quickly.
"What a surprise to see you here," he said.
"Surprise? Didn't you know I was here?" she answered.
"Why, no. I only knew you were away. Your father quite forgot to tell me you were at Wrightsville."
"Then I shall lecture him on his memory when I get home. You've made me feel quite shaky. Let us stop here a minute and watch the sea creep up."
They sat silent a moment on one of the walk benches and watched where the Atlantic came, like the trampling of an army to the music of breaking waves.
"I do hope you have recovered entirely," he said.
"Oh yes-well enough. And you? You must let me dare to open an old wound-a deeper one than mine."
"Thank God it was no worse with you," he answered.
"And thank God yours was no worse, Ramsey. I've heard everything, of course. It's ruined my life, you know. It was all my doing. The heart-broken nights I've had! To think-to think-I've altered your life. I wish I had died sooner."
She put her handkerchief to her eyes and the spectacle of her tearful and moist loveliness made him feel gentle.
"Don't say that. Nothing happens that's not overruled, Eva. It was a terrible, shattering trouble; but it had to be. We plot and we plan and we count on the future with large trust; but the outcome of things isn't our work."
"You're so wise, Ramsey," she said, smiling sadly. "Only it's so hard for me to see through tears the Hand that guides. You've got such wonderful faith to light your dark places. I wish you could teach me to trust like you can."
"If you long to do it and have the will, the rest is easy," he assured her.
Eva began to feel bored and cold. Her sudden flame of hope perished and left a bad odor in her soul. The great waves came closer and shafts of foam leapt like feathers against the beach front.
"Why are you here, since it was not to see me?"
"Seeing you is a very unexpected pleasure, but never-the less a pleasure-truly."
"I'm glad you came. I've had it in my mind to write to you. I often began, but couldn't find the words. When I think of you, I always fall into weakness and shame for the unconscious wrong I have done you."
"Don't say it or think it-it isn't so."
"You forgive me, then?"
"There's nothing to forgive, Eva. You were never to blame."
"I feel-I feel so strange with you, Ramsey-like a slave; as if I belonged to you in a sort of way. I ruined your life and you-you saved mine. Yes-saved it. Sometimes I wonder why."
"I can't hardly take credit for saving your life," he said. "But I'm glad it was me and no stranger who came just then."
"You can say that and remember the dreadful result?"
"I don't relate the two ideas in my mind," he told her.
"Then I'm glad too-oh, so thankful! I should have died afterwards to think that any human being had touched me but you. But you-"
She broke off, took his hand suddenly between hers and kissed it. He grew red.
"Don't! Don't, for God's sake!" he cried.
She turned away from him. Her emotion was genuine enough; but disappointment and irritation formed the first ingredients thereof. Ramsey, not being a fool, understood and yearned to escape. The possibility of marrying Eva had indeed occurred to him on one occasion, after seeing her since his own catastrophe; but that shock was too recent; Vera was too constant a dweller in his mind to leave room for serious thoughts of any other woman. To fuck her would be delightful, he knew-but he also knew she would not let it go at that. He recoiled-from no dislike of Eva, for he felt the gentleness bred in any man's soul by love declared.
"You forgive me-say it," she murmured, looking at the sea.
"Yes, yes, I forgive you. I don't want to think any more about it. And I can't talk about it. Maybe sometime, but not now."
"If by flinging myself into that great sea and drowning there, I could bring back happiness to you and your faith in woman, I'd do it, Ramsey and die gladly."
"You mustn't say such things, Eva. Who am I to lose faith in man or woman either? This that has happened to me was woven in the web. It had to be. Nothing from outside can lastingly harm a man. That's my faith-what I believe."
"You've paid, however," she answered quietly.
"We've got to be going," he said, anxiously.
A wave spread in successive transparent layers, foamed-fringed, at their feet. It hurtled slantwise, like the sweep of a liquid scythe and gathered a harvest of tinkling shells to its bosom.
"Ramsey-"
"Uh-huh?"
He looked into her eyes. She touched his cheek with her hand, caressed it gently.
"Even when I lay hurt and you were only worried for my safety, the touch of your hand on my breast excited me-made me want you. I want you now."
"Now, Eva-"
"You need feel no guilt in the matter," she urged speaking softly. "But I know you don't find me physically undesirable. Or do you?"
"Oh, no!" he answered quickly, "You're desirable, alright."
"Then make love to me, Ramsey. There's a motor court over there. I promise never to mention it again, unless you do-but, please, this once?"
So he capitulated. They checked into a cabin and went to bed. Eva devoured his cock hungrily, no less with her mouth than with her cunt. And Ramsey, much to his surprise, discovered that Eva was the best lay he ever had. The walls of her juicy cunt were warm and tight, hugging his shaft passionately and draining his fluid with a hot fierceness that astounded him.
He lay beside her, still warm and unsatisfied and she kept stroking his rigid cock with her fingers, occasionally teasing the gorged crest with her thumb.
"Ramsey," she said, "it was even more wonderful than I imagined it could be."
"I'm still not sure we did the right thing," he said, feeling a strong urge to mount her again. "But I can't deny that you are the best I ever had."
"The very best?"
"Yes."
She dropped her fingers to his scrotum and fondled his balls. She placed her head on his shoulder and kissed his chin. He responded by kissing the tip of her nose.
"What are you going to do for the rest of your life, Ramsey?"
"Live it-what else?"
"You know what I mean," she said, again stroking his cock. "Are you going to let losing her affect you forever?"
"It doesn't seem to be affecting me now," he said. and because he did not want to talk any more, he stopped her with a deep kiss.
The effect of his passion clouded her mind and scattered her thoughts. She responded with her whole body. He dueled her tongue with his own and pinched her nipples, moving his fingers from one to the other in passionate haste.
"Oh, Ramsey-Ramsey!"
He mounted her and sought entrance to her cunt, jabbing at the nether lips urgently. She shifted expertly to aid him and his cock disappeared between the walls of her cunt and shot all the way in. They pumped together, shutting out the world. Her lips parted, her breasts swelled and her hips undulated wildly.
"Darling-oh, darling!" she murmured, forming words between moans of intense delight. "You thrill me all over. All over! More-more-more! ah, darling-deeper! harder! I love you-love you-I'm coming now ... coming ... coming ... Oh-oh-ohmygod!" And she came, gripping him with arms and legs and biting the flesh of his shoulders. Her fierceness brought him to orgasm and he rammed her as hard as he could-erupting into her with a subdued cry of pleasure.
"Ramsey," Eva said, still entwined with him, "why didn't you come to me after-after Vera threw you over? Didn't you know I wanted you to? Oh, how I wanted you to! I waited so long-worked so-" She caught herself, stopped and clarified her mind. But it was too late. She felt his body stiffen. He raised his head up and stared down at her, his mind racing with thoughts generated by her unfinished remark.
"Worked! What do you mean 'worked'?"
"Nothing, Ramsey darling," she answered, forcing a little laugh. "Did I say 'worked'?"
He got up and sat on the edge of the bed; he looked down at her over his shoulder.
"What sort of work, Eva?"
"No, really! What's the matter with you? I don't know what I meant, Ramsey. It must have been a slip of the tongue."
"Slip? You said you had 'worked'-and you said in connection with a remark about waiting so long for me. Now you say it was a 'slip of the tongue.' That means something came out that you wanted to keep secret ... "
She sat up and faced him angrily, eyes flashing.
"Who are you to question me in this manner? You want to know what I meant? Alright, I'll tell you!" She got out of the bed and put on her slip. "I worked to prevent you making the mistake of your life," she continued. "If it hadn't been for me, you would have thrown your life away on that woman. Did you think I was going to stand by and let her steal you away from me? Well, did you?"
He stared at her in hurt astonishment.
"It was all a scheme, then-even the accident?"
"Yes! Yes, it was! It doesn't make any difference now. She married that stupid idiot, whatshisname and you can't ever have her."
He began slowly to dress himself. When he was fully dressed, he looked at her and said:
"Thank you for telling me. I always believed there was someone else behind the rumors and all the rest. I didn't think Abel Pierce did it without guidance."
He started toward the door.
"Doesn't it make any difference to you that I have loved you all these years?" Eva asked, sorry for her unintended revelation.
He turned and looked back at her, his hand on the door-knob. "You don't know what love is, Eva," he said. "But you've taught me a great lesson and I won't forget it."
"Ramsey, can't you-we-forget and start all over?"
He opened the door and passed through it into the hall. He closed it behind him, leaving her there alone-the come he had emptied into her cunt running down the insides of her thighs. She shivered ...
CHAPTER TWELVE
On a day when the young year grew beautiful with flowers, Orlando Slanning was fortunate and met Eva Horn beside the river. He had not seen her for some months and his repeated inquiries since her accident had met no warmer response than acknowledgment; but today, while fishing below the bridge, just below Narcissus Road, he had encountered her. He had grown disgusted with the spot he had originally chosen, having caught nothing in more than an hour and decided to look for a better place. He walked fifty yards downstream and suddenly found himself face to face with Eva. She was strolling beside the water, going no particular place, when they met.
She looked exceedingly well and appeared slightly pleased to see him. He rejoiced at her friendly greeting and forgot all about his fishing.
She have him her hand and he shook it a long time. Then he strolled with her and asked warmly concerning her health.
"When I heard about that frightful accident," he said. "I could have cut my throat to think it wasn't I who saved you."
"I'm quite well again," she smiled. "It was hardly so serious as people supposed. How is your father, Orlando?"
"Going downhill fast, I'm afraid. I wish I could do something for him. I hate to see him suffer all the time."
"I am very sorry," she said. "Why don't the doctors let him out of his misery-like we do with animals?"
"He'll be gone soon enough," Orlando said, shaking his head. "When he's gone I'll have to begin taking life seriously."
Eva laughed.
"You're too old to begin now."
"I'd start tomorrow if I had an inducement," he said, looking meaningfully at her. "I'm really rather clever in a way-really I am-even if I do say so myself. Look here, Eva! Are you in a hurry?"
"Not in the least. Why?"
"Then join me for lunch, will you? You know my mother always put up enough for three people when I go fishing."
"All right, if you like."
He swung a pack off his shoulder and produced a shoe-box filled with sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs and cake wrapped up in silver paper. He fumbled in the pack and a flask also appeared.
"We can eat over there, in that clearing," Eva said, pointing to a grassy slope away from the river bank. They spread the luncheon on paper plates and Eva said:
"You were right. I'm sure there is more food than you wanted here. These sandwiches are much too good for a man."
"They are," he laughed, "but, from a mother's silly point of view, nothing's too good for a son."
They ate and talked and discussed the latest gossip. Orlando was as happy as a kitten with a ball of twine.
"This is a red-letter day for me," he said. "I want to hear all about your accident from your lips, you know."
"I've forgotten all the particulars, I'm happy to say."
"I'll be Ramsey Kirk hasn't."
"I think he has."
"I say-between friends, Eva-does he-? I can't help asking-yet-of course it's no business of mine. Yet-"
"Look!" she said suddenly, pointing across the valley and distracting his thoughts. "Do you see that woman in front of that house down there? That's Vera Pierce, the woman Ramsey wanted to marry; but she threw him over."
Orlando looked in the indicated direction, saw the woman, but couldn't distinguish her features at the distance between them.
"Why? Did anybody ever hear the reason?"
"A misunderstanding, they say."
"Well-what does it matter? Or her? Or her? Or anything in the world but you and me?"
"What nonsense," she said and laughed again.
"I suppose it's mad to begin again, Eva," he said, speaking rapidly, "but I can't help it. You're never out of my mind ten minutes running-solemn truth. I love you, Eva. I shall never change-never!"
"Oh yes, you will; and find somebody much more interesting than I am."
"You know better," he insisted. "Listen, Eva, if it's the mill, I don't care a damn about that. I'd see it-anything."
"It's not the mill, Orlando. I like the mill very much. Besides, you must do something. Why not that?"
"Yes-with you. I'd be happy enough at anything-or anywhere-with you. It's you or nobody for me."
"We must go on with our lives," she answered.
He sighed and regarded his boots.
"I'll never change," he said again.
"Perhaps I shall," Eva replied.
"That's something."
Her eyes were upon the remote cottage. They passed over the distance and rested on the home of Vera Pierce.
"It's human nature to change," she said, without looking at him. "At least you can find room in your heart for love. That's in your favor."
"I've only got room, in my heart for love of you, Eva," he said seriously. "I do wish you would consider me, just once."
Eva glanced at him; she probed his thoughts deeply and arrived exceedingly near the truth of them. He was in love with her-that was plain. But he wasn't Ramsey and that still mattered to her. Yet it didn't seem to matter as much as it once did, before they made love together in the cabin at the beach. The man she always thought so firm, so strong, so reliable, had revealed a great fundamental flaw in his character. For all his great religious belief, Ramsey was fundamentally weak-he could be weak as any other man and weaker than many. He spoke out against sin and evil, yet he succumbed to her persuasion; he loved another man's wife, yet made love to a single woman with no signs of remorse. The more she thought the more the hopeless but single-hearted attachment of the fool, Orlando Skinning, shone as a steadfast star. Ramsey was lost to her. She knew that. He no longer came to her father's house and God knows what he was doing in his own. There were new rumors concerning him now, some of them quite dreadful. It was whispered about that he had quit the church and was wallowing in sin; that he had turned the house on Narcissus Road into a virtual whorehouse. Whatever he was or wasn't doing, his life was closed to her. Unless she wanted to live the life of an unmarried woman, Eva knew she had to look elsewhere and entirely forget Ramsey Kirk.
Now she looked at Orlando Slanning with speculation in her eyes. Why not him, she asked herself. He never wavered and still hopped on, fired by love and the secret knowledge that her parents were on his side.
"Orlando," she said, speaking casually, "are you sure you love me?"
"Am I-Well, why don't you put me to the test sometime?"
"And you want to marry me?" she asked.
He flashed her a smile.
"I would rather marry you than own the world," he declared.
"Mary me or make love to me, Orlando-which?"
"Both! And doesn't the one go with the other?"
"I am not a virgin, Orlando," she told him.
"What difference does that make?" he said, eyes shining upon her.
"Eva's resolution came swiftly and completely armed. Nothing was changed but the point of view. Deep within, without her conscious awareness, progressed the alchemy of a changing passion. The love she had borne Ramsey now melted, ran out of her and left a place for hate and scorn. She despised herself for loving him so long, for the shifts and artifices, for the plots and subtle snares. They had made the salt of her life through the years. What would life be without them? She could not live without them. They must continue.
And they would continue. She had pursued Ramsey for love. The insulted dignity of sex stormed in her. Her beauty, affection, tact, histrionic genius-all were overturned, ignored, trampled upon by the clumsy, callous hoof of a boor. Well, he shouldn't be allowed to get away with it. Revenge-that was the key; and she did not despair of getting it. It would be necessary to begin all over again. Another struggle like that of past lay before her. But it promised to be easier. She felt the destruction of the man-man might not be so difficult as the winning of him ... The first step would be the selection of an ally-a husband. Orlando was not only a willing victim, he was available at the moment.
"Think a minute, Orlando," she said, placing her hand on his. "It might make a difference later on. I want you to be absolutely sure."
"I am sure, Eva. Hell! I know you have thought me a fool all these years, but I'm not without experience in these matters. I know other men have made love to you. I don't care. I love you and that's all there is to it!"
"Do you want me now, this minute?"
"I told you," he said, "I want you all the time."
"I meant to say would you like to fuck me now?" Eva said, staring boldly into his eyes.
"I'd like to shoot-off in you like a rocket!" he answered. "I got a hard on and I'd like to do it this minute."
"Let me see," she said, her eyes trained on the bulge at his crotch. "Take it out, Orlando and let me see this hard you have on."
The woman to whom he spoke knew his character better than he did himself. She weighed him in the balance of thought and she approved of her new choice.
"What he couldn't do for hate, he would do for love of me," she said to herself. "But there's time enough to think of that. Right now-"
Orlando Slanning stared at her in shock and amazement.
"You really mean it?" he said. "You really want me to take my cock out?"
"You're not ashamed of showing it to me for any reason are you?"
His answer was to unzip his fly and deliberately bring his pecker into full view. Like he said, it was hard. Eva stared at it in obvious fascination.
"I never expected that you would sport a thing that big and handsome, Orlando," she cried out delightfully and clapped her hands together. "If you will satisfy me with it here and now, I promise I will marry you."
He leapt up on his knees and wobbled over to her, his large pink-crested cock protruding before him-a ramming log with which to break through the gates of paradise.
"It's all yours," he said, close to her. "It'll do anything you ask of it. Name your poison."
She lay back on the ground, well hidden from the view of anyone who may be traveling over the bridge and invited him to lay with her. The invitation was not one that he wanted to ignore, so he lay beside her. She quickly arched her back and removed her step-in panties, exposing for his bug-eyed consideration the slit he had dreamed of penetrating for years. The golden clump of pubic hair sent little shudders over his body and a transparent drop of lubricating fluid appeared on the tip of Orlando's prick.
He was so entranced by her exposed pussy that it was a few moments before he realized that Eva was pumping his cock with her hand.
"It's larger than my doctor's was," she told him and Orlando's ego was salved exceedingly well by her words.
"Do you prefer a man to have a large one or a small one?" he inquired, speaking suddenly for an uncontrollable curiosity. It was a question he had heard men discuss, but, it would be more interesting to get the information directly from a reliable source.
"Well, if it's too small," she began, speaking slowly while stroking his cock up and down, "A woman can't get much out of it. At least I can't. On the other hand if it's too large-you know, too long-the woman suffers so much pain she can't enjoy it either. Now, yours is a most suitable size, both in length and circumference. I'm sure I shall enjoy yours, Orlando ..."
"Who had the largest one-of the men you have screwed?" he wanted to know, feeling as if he would come in her hand any moment.
She pretended to think his question over, but, in reality, the answer required no thought. Abel Pierce had the longest, biggest shaft of any man she had known. Of course she had no intention of saying so. Instead, she-took the obvious and most suitable choice.
"I'd say Ramsey Kirk had the biggest," she said. "Of course his was no larger than yours."
"Who was the first man that got into you?" he asked, receiving a great deal of sexual stimulation from her descriptions.
"The first man I was engaged to," she answered truthfully. "Andrew-Doctor Andrew Clauson."
"And what was it like, when he put it in you the first time? Do you remember?"
Do I remember! she thought. How can a woman forget a thing like that-it hurt like hell! For the first few seconds, when he was gently probing the nether-lips and when the tip of his penis was in no deeper than the outer folds, it felt quite good. But when it reached the tiny opening and pressure was exerted, the pleasurable sensation of the moment quickly became the pain and shock of the hour. Time stood still as the thing savagely, relentlessly broke in and tore
"Yes. I always managed an orgasm, even when I thought I didn't feel like sex."
She wished he'd shut up about it and do something. But this erotic curiosity was rampant and he wanted to hear her tell more.
"What was it like with Ramsey Kirk?" he asked.
"Oh, it was alright," she answered; and attempted to pull him on top of her.
He got the idea and came quickly to life. He mounted her swiftly and guiding his cock to her slit, rammed into her with such force that she cried out.
"Take it easy!" she said. "Don't wreck it-just fuck it."
But he was hot and impatient and proceeding to rock her with fast, deep, furious thrusts. She did the best she could under the circumstances, but he was moving so fast that it was difficult for her undulate. He stiffened and came down with an orgastic plunge before she was anywhere near ready to some, so she lay there and felt him spilling his insides into her and wondered if he would ever learn how to fuck properly. I'll have to teach him, she thought; otherwise I'll never be able to enjoy it.
"You get on your back," she said, as he lay panting atop her, "and we'll try it another way."
She straddled him, a knee on either side and quickly inserted his cock in her slit and lowered herself up it until she had it all. Some of its rigidity was gone but she worked patiently to restore it to a state of rigid readiness. She raised and lowered herself repeatedly, very slowly at first and exercised her inner muscles to grip it tight. He could not resist the demands of her warm pussy-hugs and his cock swelled and throbbed with a new energy. Then she leaned forward on his chest and straightened her legs over his and pumped up and down at an increased tempo. The pressure on her clitoris had its natural effect and Eva was soon moaning with great expectancy. This excited him to activity and he churned and thrust beneath her. The orgasm came upon her suddenly and she cried out in pleasure, her body shaking and trembling.
"That's more like it," she told herself, as the ecstasy flowed through her being.
Now he was thrusting and squirming beneath her, spilling another load of passionate substance in her cunt. Then he lay still, breathing deeply and erratically.
"Did you really mean it, Eva?" he asked. "Will you marry me?"
"Yes," she answered, without passion. "Yes, Orlando, I will marry you."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The rumors spread that Ramsey Kirk had departed the church and the religious life for one of carnal pleasure. He had, it was said, filled his house on Narcissus Road with various whores from Maisy Thorton's place. Some said he imported a half dozen prostitutes all the way from Ashville and used a different one each night of the week. No one had actually seen a whore enter the house on Narcissus Road, but that didn't stop the ugly rumors. Someone was out to destroy the man. But who? No one could nail the rumors down.
Strange as it seemed to those who remembered the past, Ramsey's foremost defender was his former enemy and accuser, Abel Pierce.
"I don't believe a word of it," he said. "He aint's that kind of a mind. We've had our differences, him and me, but they was ironed over long ago. Ramsey Kirk is a good man, a far better man than them that's talkin' and spreadin' all these stories."
Ralph Horn was another who retained his high opinion of Ramsey. And the more he saw of his announced son-in-law-, the higher went his regard for the other man. One afternoon as he and Ramsey were walking together, surveying pasture land and observing three new mares lately purchased from Kentucky stables, the saw Eva coming toward them, mounted on her favorite saddle horse. It was at this particular moment that Ralph Horn was inspired to express himself.
"I wish to God you were my son-in-law, Ramsey," he said, his eyes trained upon his daughter in the distance. "For the life of me, I don't see what she finds in that Skinning boy worth a tinker's damn!"
"You rate me too high, mister Horn," Ramsey said. "Besides, young Slanning isn't such a bad fellow-and he is Eva's own choice."
Before Eva could reach them an automobile came speeding down the road. It came to a screeching halt just opposite the two men. Richard Barkell leaned his head out of the car and called to Ramsey. He excused himself and walked towards the fence, which separated the pasture from the road.
"Hello, Dickey!" Ramsey called in greeting. "What are you doing speeding around the countryside?"
"What luck!" Richard said. "I somehow thought you might be here and ran for it on the chance."
"You to run? What happened-has the sky fallen?"
"No; but a hundred tons of shale at Meldon quarry has. I hope they excuse me for speeding in here, but it's a matter of life or death-a question of minutes."
"Life or death! that sounds serious. What happened?"
"An accident at the quarry! a man crushed and wants you. You'll probably be too late, but he begged us to fetch you."
Ramsey turned and shouted across the pasture to Ralph Horn.
"A bad accident at the quarry and I'm wanted. I'll come back later."
Ralph Horn waved him on and he left with Richard Barkell.
"Who is it?" Ramsey said to Richard in the car, already speeding on its way. "Who wants me and where?"
"Abel Pierce," Richard answered. "Stuff came down sudden an' buried him pretty near to his neck. They've took him home. He's in an awful bad way."
"But what have I-?"
"How the fuck should I know!" Richard answered, keeping his eyes on the road. "He asked for you when they dug him out. I was on my way home when I heard. Nobody else heeded the man' but knowin' what I know, I guessed the rest."
"You're probably right, Richard."
Richard nodded.
Soon they arrived at Pierce's place and Ramsey got out of the car.
"You coming in, Richard?"
The driver shook his head and drove away. Ramsey walked to the door of the house and entered without knocking.
Within the home a moment of peace had followed upon the catastrophe. A doctor had done what he could and then departed, promising shortly to return. The doctor had managed to leave Vera and Abel's mother with a shadow of hope. Only Abel himself felt the truth and believed he was dying. He had remained insensible for some time after sending the urgent message for Ramsey; but he was now quite conscious.
He lay breathing hard and in great pain. His wife sat beside him with his hand in hers. His mother stirred in the chamber and kept talking hopefully. She saw Ramsey as he came through the door.
"Look here," she said with a swift, shaking voice. "My son thinks he's struck for death, but well we know he ain't. But he's wandering in the head and don't know what he says. He's burning to tell you some stuff against hisself-to confess, as he tells it. Don't you be hard on him now. Don't let your heart be hard against my poor boy."
"No need to say such things," Ramsey tried to comfort her. "Who am I to judge any but myself?"
Vera entered, gave her child to the grandmother and beckoned Ramsey.
"Come," she said, "What he's got to say must be heard by you and me only."
Ramsey followed her to the bedroom where Abel lay. At the door Vera turned to him.
"I thank you for coming, Ramsey. He's very bad."
"Perhaps it isn't as bad as you think," he offered. "Maybe he'll surprise you and pull through this."
"I don't think so," Vera said and led him in. She walked close to the bed and spoke to the man lying on it. "Here's mister Kirk, dear, just like you asked."
"Be hopeful, Pierce," Ramsey said, softly. "We all expect you to pull through this."
He put his hand down to Abel's and pressed it.
"I'll pull through," the wounded man said. "But not like you mean. Death's no great evil for the man that dies. It's them left behind ... Look at her-my wife-who should have been your wife. I've got God to tackle afore long, an' don't want to make it worse than it is. Can you forgive me-you an' her? I kept you apart ... lied, tricked, blinded both of you. Full of guile I was-quickened by love of he ... Clever as a snake. Love makes a man cunning. Can't make myself out worse than I am. But I know you are a blameless man, Ramsey Kirk, an' I always knowed it, though I pretended with myself you wasn't."
His wife ministered to his torment as best she could.
"An' you, Vera," he said. "I couldn't help it. You know why I done it-for love of you."
"I know."
The doctor returned, bringing another doctor with him. Ramsey went out, then and appeared not to notice Vera as he did so. She also left the room, leaving the doctors with her husband. She and her mother-in-law sat and waited in the kitchen. Once Abel shouted under examination and Vera's blood froze; but the mother encouraged her.
"Shows the life that's there," said Henny. "A man as can holler so, is a far ways off from death."
Interminable minutes passed. A fever of restlessness took them. Sometimes one, sometimes the other crept to the bedroom door, then crept back again.
At last the physicians appeared and told them there was no hope; that Abel would die and soon. They departed together and the mother went back to her son.
Henny seemed unable to accept what she had heard. She sat by her son and stared at him.
"Bear up," he said, trying to smile. "It's all right, Mama. My thread's spun."
"Yes, yes," she said. "Don't you talk. Keep your strength, boy. Doctors is often wrong."
He was silent and this made her nervous. She spoke to him. He did not answer and a frenzied fear brew that he would answer no more.
Within half an hour he passed without a sigh. Tremor overtook him; his limbs extended; his head rolled to one side; and sleep and death lay in bed together.
The mother got up and kissed him.
In the valley came the sound of the wind and a galloping horse. The rider, whoever it was, passed on ...
* * *
With the company of the mourners and Vera herself Ramsey had attended the funeral of Abel Pierce; and he had gone home with the widow afterwards. They did not arrive from the little graveyard of Tarboro, where Abel was buried beside his father, but, at Vera's request, walked back to the house.
While they walked together, Vera spoke to Ramsey and asked him to forgive her, as he had forgiven her husband. Such words were unnecessary between them and he begged her to be practical.
"We can talk of the past another time," he said. "Just now let me play a friend's part and trust me and talk of the future. If old Mrs. Pierce shows no signs of recovery, she must be put away."
"No, no," Vera objected. "It'll pass. She'll come to herself soon. It was the awful shock. I was mad myself the night he died-had to hold my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming like an animal."
"You haven't thought about what you're going to do?"
"Not yet."
He wondered whether her husband's confession had served to diminish for her the agony of his death; but he much doubted it. Once, long ago, she had told him that nothing she loved could do wrong in her eyes; and he had reproved her for such narrow seeing. Now he remembered it.
Hourly he found himself more interested in her state. After the first shock, he received the changed situation with growing excitement. Each morning it rose uppermost in his mind and constantly he found his footsteps leading to the house where she lived. His thoughts haunted her home and made excuses to carry his body there. His attitude amazed himself. It had not been assumed gradually; it had not developed by slow stages as a result of this death and sudden change; but it had burst out, like a banked fire blown upon. He was bewildered to find, alive and awake, an emotion that he supposed long dead. Vera appeared to have returned into his existence after sojourn in another world. She had come to life again. He had thought no more of her while she was Pierce's wife; she had left his mind empty to pursue its destined aims; but, as a widow, she became to him Vera once more. Soon even the fact of her widowed state ceased to intrude upon the position. She was merely Vera. Before the autumn she had become a maiden again in his thoughts and he found himself loving her as he had loved her and longing for her, even as he had longed.
But storms swept the man's soul before he reached this point and he fought more than one battle with conscience. These struggles daily renewed brought dryness of spirit and weariness, fear of himself, distrust and distemper of mind. Yet not all the light of his steadfast faith was strong enough to show him whether, touching these conflicts, he had won or lost.
Vera Pierce underwent no such struggle. Her husband's confession had explained most of the facts and it served to dispel her suspicions as to an attachment between Eva Horn and Ramsey; and there awoke in her, therefore, some gentleness of mind towards Ramsey. It tinctured her grief and lightened her mourning. She perceived that she had greatly wronged him. Farther than that her thoughts would not take her, but for Ramsey's own altered attitude. It became obvious that she still attracted him. His actions were like the beginning of love's actions and he seemed to have started afresh on the old road. But it was long before Vera thought of him in connection with the future. That matter now called for much consideration. The world is too sorrowful to have great sympathy with sorrow and grief is a luxury for which the poor cannot spare working hours. The bread winner gone, Mrs. Pierce and her daughter-in-law were immediately reduced to poverty; therefore soon they set forth into daily life again, as the timid bather enters the sea. Before anything could be done, however, Ramsey had become a factor in decision.
It came about one afternoon, in the hills, when Ramsey and Vera went for a long walk.
"It's really beautiful here," he said, taking in the surrounding country with a sweep of his hand.
"Yes," she agreed; then added: "It comes to me quite sad-like that I've got to leave it."
"Leave it? What do you mean?"
"There's no money, you know. I'm going to Ashville and seek a job."
"A job! But I promised-"
"I'm still young and strong. As for you, you've done enough already."
"You can't do it!" he said, "I won't have it!"
"But I must!" she insisted. "I can't just sit here."
"I won't have it, I tell you."
She said nothing.
"I'm a miserable man, Vera-though everybody seems to think I'm a smiling, prosperous one."
"I'm very sorry to hear you say that, Ramsey. Is there anything I can do?"
He stopped and took her hand in his. Looking into her eyes he said:
"You could do a great deal, Vera-but there is no reason to suppose that you will," he answered. "You are the answer to all my ills."
"Me? Surely you're not serious."
"But I am, Vera- can't you see that? I have never stopped loving you, wanting you-Oh, how memories of making love to you burned my brain."
"You're not the only one that's made of flesh and blood," Vera told him. "Did you think a woman's desires stop because her husband dies?"
"Vera-" he put an arm around her waist-"I lay in my bed and make imaginary love to you. Now, walking with you, alone like this, I can hardly keep myself from taking advantage of you."
"I need physical loving, Ramsey. It's been ages since I had any comfort with a man. If you want me, you can have me ... "
"If I want you! Vera darling ... I have relived every minute of every love session we shared. Sometimes I can even feel what it was like slipping into you. I have a terrible time over you. Listen-and don't interrupt!-We should get married, just like we planned to do."
"Married? I hadn't thought-"
"Well, think about it now," he said, embracing her. "Think about it while I make love to you."
They sank to the earth and wrapped themselves in each other's arms.
"Vera," he said, running his hand up under her dress. "I never forgot how warm and love-hungry your pussy was. It seems as if I could come in you until you had so much you couldn't walk. Oh, you used to enjoy it so-remember?"
"I remember," she answered him, squirming in passion as his fingers teased her clitoris. "But it's been so long for me I'm ready to come right now."
And that is exactly what she did. Her body shook against him and she moaned aloud as his continued gentle pressure and alternately inserted a finger in her slit. Her stomach heaved and contracted and rolled, while her legs jerked and her hips churned.
"Oh, Ramsey-it came so quick. Now, you've ruined me unless you screw me promptly and good. Where is that ramrod of yours, darling? Take it out and let me look at it and feel it. Let me kiss it the way I used to do ... "
"Yes, yes," he said, getting his shaft out of his trousers. "Here it is, honey-take it and kiss it. Make me pop-off with your lovely, warm lips. I want to shoot my juices into your mouth and wash your tonsils ... "
She leaned over him gazing fondly at his tool. She touched it gently, then pumped it several times and kissed the crest, inserting the tip of her tongue in its small, pearl bedewed slit.
"I love it, darling. It's so big and lean, so nice and long-it's a pleasure to taste its sweetness."
She lapped it round and covered it with licks from crest to base and back again. Then she covered it with her mouth, taking it long swallows and letting the head of it touch the back of her throat. While she thus incited him to a high state of almost unendurable pleasure, he shoved three fingers into her cunt and worked them in and out and around. She like it so much that she occasionally forgot to suck, stopping to enjoy the thrill he was evoking. Then she returned her attention to his shaft and gobbled it in earnest, striving to produce an orgasm.
"I want you to come, honey," she said, during a pause to rest her jaws and tongue. "I want you to come in my mouth. I want to taste your juices-your sweet, delectable juices of love."
"I have a stemful all ready to give you," he said. "Just a little bit more with your tongue, sweet and you shall produce a fountain of potent libation. Suck me, honey-take it in your mouth and suck me dry."
She hasten to comply with his request. This time she caused him to squirm and strain in joy and finally, with a loud yell, while furiously finger-fucking her, he ejaculated into her mouth. She was careful not to lose any of the precious fluid, sucking and swallowing at the same time. He jerked a little and lay still, while she gave his cock a tongue bath and smacked her lips.
"Oh, that was a mouthful, honey," she said, cupping his balls in one hand and jacking his cock gently with the other.
He withdrew his gingers from her slit which was sloshing with juices and lay her flat on her back. He then parted her thighs with his hips and readied himself to fuck her.
"Now I will give you a bellyful of the same potent fluid," he said, fixing his crest for a penetration. "I will drive this shaft into your juicy sheath and fuck until I am dry and can shoot no more."
"Oh, yes, she sighed, lifting her hips to make it easier for him to penetrate her cunt. "Give me all you have, honey. I want every inch, every drop and I want it now. My pussy is hungry for your precious cock ... "
He directed it in and then came down with all his pressure, pushing slowly and he did not cease until he was in her to the extent of his ability. As he slid along the walls of her cunt, Vera's whole body trembled, shaking as if undergoing and earthquake.
"Oh, it's so good, honey, I don't know if I can stand the pleasure of it much longer."
"You can stand it, baby," he said, lifted her legs so that he could control them with his shoulders. "I want to give you all of it, baby, so keep your legs on my shoulders. Now, here we go-back-back-back-"
"Oh, Jesus! it's in so deep, honey, I think I can feel the head all the way in my throat," she told him. "But don't stop. I love it-love it-love it ... "
He lunged into her, lunged hard and deep and settled upon a stroke that soon had her moaning and whispering in the throes of ecstasy.
"Uhhhhmmm- baby honey! Ohhh ... Give me ... aahhh ... more ... oh, baby, oh ... I'm ... ooooh ... I'm co-coming ... oooh-oooh-coming ... baby honey, fuck me! fuck me! baby, fuck me! JEEEE-S-US!" And she scissored him with her legs and bumped him with her spastic cunt. He got carried away and emptied himself, shooting the load into her womb in long, hot spurts ...
They walked back home together, talking and making plans.
"Never a word of this yet," Vera said. "Let me be the one to tell Mrs. Pierce. She's not overly fond of you, Ramsey and I must have time to prepare her."
"Take all the time you want," he answered, "so long as we can meet and love one another like we did today."
They took their way by the river; and the wood was left alone to its own moods and voices. Where they had sat, the grass blades slowly rose again; the depressed mosses, where they fucked, recovered. The clouds rolled over the hills and the stream rolled over its bed. Waters passed melodiously through the gorge to their sister river and their mother sea; while aloft, now like a pall, now like a panoply, now like snow and now like fire, the subtle, silent flakes and vans of the great clouds sailed. They were bringing the rivers back again from the Atlantic to their cradles in the wilderness.
Thus the unceasing changes are rung on the river and in the cloud and in the last arcane of the human heart; thus a truth appears from these plutonian rocks and the ceaseless water that lave them; from the vapors that the west wind herds and rives homeward to this wild land out of the wilder ocean; from the human heart of Ramsey Kirk, throbbing with joy and darkened by inner doubt and suffering.
Now returned October and the light, growing daily feebler as the sun declined, became at once glorified and weakened by intermingling with the humors of earth. The leaf fell, robbins called; sweetness of fruit hung heavy on the air; the moths, that in high summer awaited twilight, now danced at noon and sucked their last nectar from autumnal flowers.
On such a day there came to the house on Narcissus Road a brief procession which seemed small by comparison with the magnitude of the local joy displayed in Ramsey's honor.
From the church, after he was wedded, he walked with his wife's hand in his; laughed, nodded, blushed; tried to scrape the rice out from under his collar; marveled at the distance from the church to his own home.
Little banners waved across the way; flags flew from many windows; garlands were displayed elsewhere; and the bells rang bravely.
Richard Barkell was best man. He walked behind the bride and bridegroom with Jane Perryman ... There followed Abner Barkell, Ned Perryman, the brothers John and Thomas Ball, three married men and their wives and a few other friends. But Mrs. Pierce was not of the company. She no longer resented this union and in secret it even gladdened her heart, for she had come to be fond of Ramsey.
Ramsey was leaving for Ashville at Christmas, because it offered a wider field and greater possibilities than Tarboro, and too, because both he and Vera wanted to leave old memories behind them, leave old memories behind them.
"Hey, Dicky," Ned Ferryman said, "when you gonna tie the knot with Jane? Don't you think it's about time you two got hitched in harness?"
"Almost sure to do it sometime," Richard answered, sending a wink in Jane's direction.
They reached the distorted ash that twisted above Ramsey's gate. Today it flamed with scarlet berries brighter than any seen elsewhere. Soon the wedding feast began and the preacher asked a blessing on it. Richard Barkell held Jane's hand and murmured, mockingly: "Bless the meat, damn the skin, back your ears and cram it in! ah-men!"
"You're terrible!" she said, giggling.
"You think so?" he inquired, giving her buttocks a pinch. "Just wait till I get you in the woods again."
"Promises, promises," she giggled.
She moved away from him because Ramsey Kirk approached. Richard wished him happiness for the umpteenth time and Ramsey said:
"I just heard some rather strange news. Strange it should happen today, I mean."
"Yeah. What is strange about any news that comes from around here?" Richard asked.
"I just heard that Orlando Slanning is going to marry Eva Horn."
"Ah! you're lucky then, Ramsey ol' man: you'll have one enemy instead of two. For husband and wife are one, if all we hear be true."
"Enemies! What do you mean? It's the best news I've heard in many a day."
"I'm glad you're pleased, ol' friend," Richard said drily.
"Surely the happiness of marriage-"
"Happiness? How can that be when brains marry a fool?" Richard asked, with a little snort for emphasis.
Standing nearby with Jane Perryman, Vera overheard the latter remark.
"Hope you're not speaking of us, Dicky," she said.
"No, indeed," he answered. "I was only speaking in general terms, Vera."
"You speak in ignorance," said his father, who also had been eavesdropping. "A clever woman and a dull man's a very good marriage mixture and I've seen it work very well."
"Not with such a pair as Orlando and Eva you haven't!"
Ramsey turned to Vera.
"We must think of a wedding present for them," he said.
"Have they give'd you one?" asked Ned Perryman.
Ramsey regretted the question and looked a little uneasy.
"Can't say they have," he answered.
An hour later Ramsey and Vera drove off in his car. They were going for a three day honeymoon to Ashville.
The little party clustered round and Mr. Perryman, by virtue of seniority, threw the shoe.
Richard Barkell stood holding Jane Perryman's hand, his eyes following the car as it sped away down Narcissus Road, towards the bridge and the main highway.
"It's funny how things turn out," he said. "Especially sometimes."
Jane looked at him, a worshipful gleam in her eyes.
"Do you think they will be happy?" she asked.
"Who knows?" he shrugged. "I never even thought they'd ever get together. But there they go-on their way to a love vacation, with a marriage license in the car."
"Love vacation? What's a love vacation?" Jane asked.
"Come with me into Ramsey's house and I will show you what it is," Richard said, dangling a key on a chain.
"Oh, you turn everything into sex!" she said, secretly delighted that he had the key. If there was anything she enjoyed more than fucking Richard Barkell, Jane Perry-man hadn't found it yet.
"I'm not turning anything into sex," he protested. "What I don't see the logic is them going' off to fuck in another bed when they got a beautiful house right here. Well, we can't let Ramsey's beds go to waste, now can we?
"I guess not. You wait here. I'll tell grandpa we're going for a hike and then to a movie."
"You do that," he said, "only I won't wait here. I'll meet you back of the house."
Fifteen minutes later the two of them were peering at die departing guests from an curtain-covered window in an upstairs bedroom. They watched until the final guest had vanished, then they turned their attention on each other.
"Shall we have a love vacation?" Richard said, removing his shirt.
Jane Perryman quickly got out of all her clothing, including shoes and stockings. She crawled onto the bed and lay down. He stared at her, seeing her completely nude for the first time.
"You are a grrr-rr hunk of woman!" he said, kicking off his loafers and leaping onto the bed.
"Do you suppose Ramsey fucked Vera before?" Jane asked.
Richard looked at her in surprise.
"Before what?"
"You know! before he married her, for creepsake!"
"Well, I didn't personally see him fuck her," Richard laughed and lay his head on Jane's breast. "But yes, I believe he fucked her; an' I believe he fucked Eva Horn, too. That's what we did, ain't it? Why should anyone else not fuck?"
She laughed as he mounted her and shoved his cock into her cunt with a great lunge. As his shaft penetrated deep into her channel, the laughter died and turned into a deep moan.
"Now we start our love vacation," he said, pumping and pounding with joy, "I am going to send you on a screaming trip to orgasm-land."