Women's Liberation is not only a highly controversial subject; it is a much more complex one than many people realize. Even if the male population as a whole were willing to "surrender" and give the female population everything it demanded, the situation wouldn't be totally simple. The sad fact remains that many women have not defined exactly what they want, and many others have been conditioned to want the wrong things.
In a contribution to the book, Woman in Sexist Society: Studies in Power and Powerlessness, Margaret Adams (who trained in social work at Oxford University and the University of Edinburgh before coming to the United States to practice her profession) has some very pertinent things to say about this problem. "Despite growing acceptance of the women's-liberation philosophy," Miss Adams writes, "few women have yet managed to extricate themselves from the Compassion Trapthat pervasive social philosophy that believes that woman's primary social function is to provide tenderness and compassion.
"Through the exercise of these traits, the belief runs, women have set themselves up as the exclusive model for protecting and nurturing others. Fundamental to this model is the synthesizing of fragmented elements into a viable wholea basic ingredient of any society's survival and one that informs the activities of every woman, whether in one-to-one relationships, or in keeping the family united, or in maintaining a home that eases the day-to-day living of those it shelters."
Miss Adams is now a consultant in social work to the professional training team of the Eunice Kennedy Shriver Center in Waverley, Massachusetts, and a faculty, member of the Cambridge-Goddard School for Social Change. In spite of her impressive record of achievement, however, she says that she became interested in Women's Liberation when she realized that she lacked power because she is a woman and, as a social worker, is a member of a relatively powerless profession. The crux of the matter to her is that while women are expected in our society to be the more helpful sex, they are never supposed to have any real power of any kind.
"Educated women tend to cluster in the so-called helping professions," Miss Adams states. "Although it is commonly said that this work is most appropriate for, or congenial to, women's nature, the more significant and prosaic explanation is that only these professions have been open to women in any large numbers until very recent times. The most familiar of the women-dominated professions are secretarial work, nursing, teaching, social work, psychology, and occupational, physical and speech therapy. Their position in the hierarchy of social values, the small degree of direct executive power they carry compared with that wielded by professions that have more prestige and the functions they involve all help to explain why they have been ceded graciously to women and informally defined as the legitimate province of women."
It may be just another example of male chauvinism that few people think of psychology as a profession dominated by women, but in this case we must accept Miss Adams's expert view. It is only fair to add, however, that even in fields "ceded graciously to women and informally defined as the legitimate province of women," individual women are going to encounter specific and often overwhelming difficulties. Take, for example, Cathy Williams, heroine of A Cowhand for the Heiress by Robert F. Slatzer.
Cathy is young, beautiful, and a psychology instructor. Her primary ambition as the story opens is to write her thesis for her master's degree in psychology. When she inherits a cattle ranch in New Mexico, it appears at first as a golden opportunity. She does not need the income from the ranch, but believes the place will be a perfect setting in which to do her writing. Unfortunately, she turns out to be very wrong. Once she arrives, she encounters problems that sidetrack her from any attempt at writing.
First of all, there is Juan, the foreman who is running the ranch capably and profitably. Juan is young and handsome, and Cathy is very much attracted to him. But even with her training in psychology, she still has an aversion to sex. She has never lost that guilty, shameful feeling it leaves with her after she has really enjoyed it so much. And each time the problem arises, the feeling grows more nagging and painful. However, Cathy finds it difficult to keep away from Juan....
Cathy's problem is the core of this excellent novel. Superficially, it would seem to have little to do with Women's Liberation. But it has everything to do with the liberation of a woman, and Cathy is exactly the kind of woman Margaret Adams is talking about. This, we feel, makes it a very important book to every reader who is concerned about the future of our society and the drastic way in which it is changing every day.
The Publishers
1
Cathy Williams took the much folded letter from her purse, pulled out its pages, and began reading again the inscribed message that told her Manuel Cordon was dead. She could hardly believe it. Manuel Cordon had been practically a father to her. Especially after her real father had passed away a few years ago. Manuel had encouraged her to come out and see her legacy in the west. The Bar None ranch: a spread of land that stretched out into the horizon against the wide expanse of western skies. It was one of the oldest and largest existing cattle ranches in New Mexico.
As a little girl, she had first visited there when her father, prominent in the livestock business, bought the ranch and took her there for summer vacation. That had been many summers ago. It was the first time she had met Manuel Cordon. He was the ranch foreman. In fact he was a little bit more than that. He made decisions, saw that the cattle were rounded up, branded, taken to market, and the check sent back to her father in Ohio. In Manuel, her father had placed implicit trust and respect.
When her mother had run away with one of her father's partners, and there were problems at home, she had been sent back to the ranch. Back to be consoled and kept happy for another summer. And she got to know Manuel, who then, had to be a man in his sixties. But it was difficult to tell the age of the Spanish. Especially this white haired, dark eyed old man, with huge callused hands, a leathery face, and a gentle smile. It was just hard to believe that he was dead.
The letter had been written by his nephew, Juan Cordon, who had come from another part of the state to complete burial arrangements and stay on at the ranch to finish his uncle's business until she arrived for the summer.
Cathy looked at the scribbled handwriting, wondering if she had made a wrong decision in not flying down there a couple weeks ago for the funeral. It couldn't have happened at a worse time. But then she also realized that sometimes death does not try to be convenient. The telephone call had reached her at the university where she was an instructor. It had been the middle of the week and they were in final exams. Not only was the time pressing but so was the funeral. Manuel had been found dead from a heart attack out on the range. His body had been recovered when his riderless horse came back to the ranch. It took two days to find him. And when they did, it was decided best to place him to rest no later than the next day.
She remembered Juan telling her that due to the shortness of time, if she could not make it, he would understand. So would a few of the others. And he was quite certain that Manuel would too. That had been her only contact with Juan except the letter she held in her hands, telling of Manuel's funeral, a few things that needed her attention at the ranch, and that he was running things until she could come out. It sounded as if he were doing this more out of respect for his uncle than for her. But that mattered little now.
Leaning back in her seat, she felt the jet descending, then saw the lights flash on about the seat belts, as the squeaky female voice of the hostess told them over the speaker system that they were soon going to be landing at Albuquerque. Cathy glanced out the window as the giant plane turned to make its descent and saw the span of purple mountains and desert below. It felt good to be away, she thought. Away from all the old familiar faces. Away from the university. Away from everything she suddenly wanted to forget. For the first time now, she was looking forward to spending the summer at the ranch. She wondered at first if she would like it. She would at least try it. After all, there were business details to finalize. This she had to do. Then she wondered what type of man Juan Cordon would be? She wondered if she would like him.
Juan Cordon was not at the airport to meet her. So Cathy decided that possibly he had been detained and she would wait for him in the lounge. In a way she was glad he was not there. Right now. She wanted to relax a bit, freshen up, and breathe in a little of that high altitude air that seemed to excite her lungs. Then there was some thinking she must do too. About the ranch. About Juan. About practically everything.
Suddenly she heard her name on the paging system and she went to the phone and received the message that Juan was on his way to meet her. But he would be late. Maybe as much as an hour. Cathy hung up the phone, welcomed the opportunity of waiting, then decided to be alone with her thoughts in the quiet of the airlines lounge. She left word at the desk to call her when Juan arrived.
In the lounge, she sank deep into a comfortable chair, leaned back her head and closed her eyes. Her mind began to wander. She thought of the last school semester which she thought would never end. It wasn't enough in today's society with the newspapers bannering stories of murder, rape, violence, strikes, and war, she thought. The news reminded her of her occupation every time she read a newspaper, listened to a radio, or watched television. The pattern of human behavior. And here she was teaching that every day in her psychology classes. In all, it seemed to pose one big question. What really makes people behave the way they do? Do the things they should not do? Influence others to follow or join them? What really makes them tick? She had wondered this about some of her students. Even some of her fellow staff members. Even of herself.
Cathy felt herself thinking of the obligation she had to take over: the business matters of the ranch. She also began thinking about the thesis she had planned to write that summer in psychology for her master's degree. She thought of it all, churning in her mind like a whirlpool. Finally she dozed off into the world of slumber. A world in which she anticipated going. A place she loved. A world of dreams, a world with fantasies. And even if although it was sometimes filled with people and places she had never seen, it was interesting, exciting, and stimulating. Most important of all, it was stimulating. Because in this plateau of unconsciousness, in her world of dreams, where fantasies were no longer fantasies but adventures, she fulfilled her innermost sexual desire. And even though she was aware of this, being a student of psychology, it was quite common with many people. It was a form of escape. A place where you could do things in which you were not punished. And in those fantasies, in which she felt she was often rewarded sexually, there was no after feeling of guilt or shame. It was only waking up to the normal hum-drum world about her. Yes, it was relaxing to take a trip into the world of the sub-conscious. Ever since she was a little child, this had been Cathy's way of escape. And in later years, now, it was a method of self-gratification. The men in her dreams were all charming and undemanding. There were other people from time to time, but they came and went just like the dreams. And unlike the men she dated from time to time, she did not have to give an excuse as to why she had to be in early that night, or hassle with them about going home. And she did not have to worry about looking in the mirror the next morning after the night before when she had been naughty. Not that making love with a man was naughty. It was just that particular look that she had the morning after the night before. And she hated that look. And it made her hate herself. But in her dreams she could do anything she wanted, and when her sexual thrills came to an end, so did the dream. And there was no remorse.
Peacefully, quietfully, Cathy was now in that plateau of where the mind lets the sub-conscious lead it into the valley of desire. She was now in that world of dreams that took her back into space, almost like turning back the hands on a clock, to the time that she had spent one summer at her father's ranch. She was only fifteen then, her body bronzed from the hot Western sun, and her green eyes sparkling under the long blond hair, as she spurred her chestnut mare and took off over the back stretch of land toward the timber.
The stretch of land that fanned out behind the ranch was as flat as a table. A small stream came down from the timberland and she remembered having fished there many, many times with Manuel, catching pan-size trout, as fast as she could wet a line. But it was back in the timberland, where the tall spruce reached up to touch the sky, and where a quiet lake was peacefully at rest, that she found her first greatest sexual excitement.
On that particular day, Cathy felt the breeze of late afternoon hitting her in the face, as she spurred her horse back a few miles into the virgin timber, and to the edge of the lake where the boy was waiting. Manuel did not know about her meetings with a boy. The body was from someplace back in the mid-west, and was visiting relatives that owned an adjacent ranch some miles away. They had met one night at a cook-out, liked each other, and the boy had taken her out in back of the ranch house while all of the others stayed around the barbecue and ate and drank. It was there that she felt the boy's hands run around her slender waist and reach up under her bra, sending chills up and down her back, as he cupped his hand into first one breast, and then another. Then she remembered the tingling sensation that went up and down her back as he played with her nipples until they became hard on the ends like tiny pink erasers. She had tried to stop the boy, but after a few minutes, her breathing rising within her, and her body now squirming with the desire to welcome his, she could not or would not resist his every move. In fact, she even grabbed him, pulling him closer to her, and encouraged him to explore those areas of her body that no male had ever touched before. It was so exciting that the blood seemed to pump through her body so that she could feel her heart beat every place he ran his
hands. And then when he had finally quit kissing her neck, and raised his lips to meet hers, she was excited to feel his warm tongue plunge inside of her mouth, promising her that happiness was in the offering. She made no resistance as he unzipped the front of her jeans, slid his hand down the flat of her stomach, and then felt the wet, moist flesh that greeted his wandering fingers. She kissed him vigorously as he manipulated his fingers a few times, and then she felt something happen to her that she had never felt before. It was like a burst of thunder going off inside her. Because she lunged forward to him, grabbed his hand, pressing it closer against her until it almost hurt, and she could even feel the fluids of her body running out over his hand. Within a matter of minutes, the boy had shown her an introduction to sex that she had never known before. And although it had been brief, it had also been wonderful. And she remembered having promised him that she would meet him in the timberland near the edge of the lake where the stream emptied. She would meet him the next day. But she never did. Because that first experience, although she was practically graduating into womanhood, had its latent effect upon her. An effect that had stayed with her ever since. But the boy kept calling her at the ranch, from time to time, and then she could hold back no more. She decided that having a sexual adventure with him was more important to her at the time than the feeling of guilt and shame that had plagued her ever since that first time. So it was only a matter of a few days later, that she found herself telling Manuel that she was only taking a leisurely ride in the afternoon, and she pointed the horse's head in the direction of that hidden place where she would rendezvous with a boy.
The boy was waiting for her there, standing alongside his grazing horse, watching her approach in the distance. The shadows of late afternoon fell across that portion of the lake and tiny bits of sunshine from the late afternoon light danced through the thick pines that abounded the area. Little jaybirds flittered back and forth, their chirping echoing out across the still waters. From time to time a raven flew from one tree to another, and then chirping loudly, would fly away into the distance. Everything was peaceful and quiet. And as she walked her horse to the waiting boy, she smelled the fresh aroma of the pine trees, and heard her horse snap the tiny pinecones under his hoofs as she neared the area where the body stood waiting.
There she jumped off her horse, tied him to a nearby sapling, and walked over to the boy. She looked into his pale, innocent face, and then she felt his arms go round her. It was a great feeling of security, she thought. More than that, a feeling that had stimulated her loins the first time he had touched her. And although she had not wanted to see him again after that first night, here she was, back for more. She knew she would hate herself later, but she had no control over her desires to see him. Or to take what he had to offer. And she had hoped, almost prayed, that she would somewhere, sometime, erase this after-feeling that seemed to envelop her entire body and warp her mind about sex.
"You are late," the boy said.
"I know," she answered, "but Manuel... our foreman... was telling me some things about ranch life. I had to listen. And then he showed me how to saddle my own horse. But the most important thing, I'm here. And I'm sorry I'm late."
She looked into the boy's eyes and knew they reflected the understanding of her apology.
"There's an old shack not too far from here," he told her. "We can leave the horses here and walk over to
it."
The boy put his arm around her waist, kissed her on the lips, and she once again felt the chills run up and down her back that had excited her so much that first night. Now, without any aversions, she walked with the boy along the edge of the lake, through a rugged path, to a tiny shack that was nestled back of the tall trees.
"I found this place a couple of years ago when I came out here," the boy told her. "I used to come here by myself a lot and fish and then sometimes I'd go into this deserted shack and just pretend that I was out camping and it was fun."
"Does anybody live there?" she asked.
"Not that I know of," the boy said. "It's on your father's property anyway. If anybody lived there, you would surely know about it."
"What was it originally?" Cathy asked.
"Looks like an old prospector's shack or something," the boy answered. "It's made out of solid logs that look like they were cut from timber. And it's so run down and from the way it looks, it hasn't been used in years. A long time before your father bought this place, and before any of us really came out here, there were
trappers and miners that built old shacks around the lakes and all through the area. And this is probably one of
them."
Cathy looked at the shack. It was hewn out of rough, tough timber. The logs were methodically placed in the position, each one over-lapping the other on the ends, as if they interlocked like a set of the miniature pine logs you bought at the store when you were a child. Between the tight fitting logs were adobe-like clay that had now fallen apart through the years. The door, sturdily built out of heavy boards, hung from old rusty hinges. It looked like a typical log cabin. And although the place looked lonely there was a certain feeling of warmth about it because it was a place of seclusion hidden away from everything else.
The boy had taken her inside and at one glance she saw the whole room. On one side was a crude little wood-burning stove flanked by pots and pans that had long rusted through the years. They hung on hooks above it. Frayed curtains hung from the windows, which were broken, and a large bunk was at the far side of the room near the fireplace. On the floor was an old Indian rug with designs that had long since faded. The place should have been dusty as she had expected, but the boy told her that he had come there several times, and had cleaned it up.
Although everything was rusty, and long forgotten, it now made her feel welcome. There was a crude table with a couple of chairs. And on the table were a few bottles of soft drinks. The boy had brought them there for the occasion that afternoon. He opened one of the bottles, took a couple of paper cups, and poured the contents into each cup, and then handed one to her. They sipped the beverage, and the boy led her to the window that looked out over the lake, and then she felt his arm around her waist pulling her closer to him. They stood at the window a few minutes, and when they had finished their beverage, the boy took the empty cup from her hand, and walked her across the room. There he stood facing her; and he put his arms around her, pulling her tiny, flat waist against his, and began kissing her lips softly as the excitement of his touch raced through her entire body. She was trembling with anxiety.
As he explored her body with his hands, running his fingers over the flat of her stomach and up to her breasts, which were now becoming quite firm and excited, she clung to him like a desperate child as he kissed her neck and bit her ears and plunged his tongue deeply into her mouth until she broke out in a feverish sweat.
Then he unbuttoned her shirt, and started unzipping her dungarees. With one quick hand, he unsnapped her bra and she stood there practically naked in front of him. Then he stripped off his clothes, leaving on nothing but his shorts, and led her to the bunk where he fell down upon her, and pressed his mouth gently against hers, plunging his tongue in and out between her full lips, as her head tossed from side to side, her long blond hair swinging back and forth like a pendulum on a clock. She knew that he was teasing her. But she liked it that way.
Her arms went around his back and her hand slid down to his buttocks as she pulled him to her. Then she felt his hand grab the elastic waist of her panties and without any resistance she raised upwards and cooperated as he pulled them down over her thighs and over her knees and threw them on the floor. Then, he disposed of his shorts. She felt his nude body, pressing her into the bunk, holding his arms tightly around her, kissing her breasts, running his tongue up over her neck, and then plunging it into her mouth. Cathy was gasping for breath, sweating profusely, and completely vibrating to his every touch and responding to his every desire.
After several minutes of frolicking on the bunk, Cathy could stand it no longer. She reached her hands downward to that hard area that was pressing against her, and almost instinctively she put it in the position and pushed her pelvis into the boy, tightly pulling him to her as her hands held onto his buttocks. Then she felt the warmth of him .inside of her. Cathy found herself twisting against him, gasping each time he moved back and forth into her, as he fondled her breasts, and kissed her on the mouth. Then she found herself moving back and forth, faster and faster, arching her body against his, letting out tiny little moans, and trembling as the boy began moving in and out of her faster until they were both covered with sweat and gasping for breath.
The sweat from his body was not repulsive but welcome to her nostrils. The strong, pungent odor, excited her. And as the excitement rose within her body, she ran her fingers through his thick, brown hair, pulling his mouth back to her breasts, directing his mouth to her nipples, as she lay back with her legs apart now, responding to him in complete rhythm, as the creaking of the bunk was heard throughout the room. A few minutes later the creaking became louder and louder, as her breathing became deeper and deeper, and she
suddenly began to moan in passion. The boy was stabbing his tongue in and out of her mouth violently, making her lose complete control of herself, as an avalanche of an orgasm ripped through her body.
She groaned with passion, and then exhausted, spent, and drained, fell back flat into the bunk, unable to move. The boy kissed her tenderly on the lips, looked at her with great compassion in his eyes, before she rolled over on her side, breathing deeply, gasping for air.
The boy rolled over to her, put his arm around her waist, held her close, and kissed the back of her neck, assuring her that he still possessed a great deal of feeling of desire for her. They lay there together, panting and breathing deeply for several minutes, and then as if in mutual release, they slowly raised up, and sat on the edge of the bunk.
The boy reached down on the floor, picked up his plaid shirt, and threw it over her shoulders. Cathy pulled it around her body, which was still trembling, still vibrating, still filled with ecstasy. Then she felt the boy put his arm around her, and without words hold her tightly against him.
"Did you like it?" he asked.
She nodded her head dumbly.
"Will you meet me here often?" she asked.
The boy nodded, swallowing.
After that, they dressed, putting on their clothes rather hurriedly and then splitting another bottle of the beverage.
Then they walked together over the uneven ground, breathing in the fragrance of the scented pines, both quiet now, as the dried pine needles and cones snapped like tiny shots beneath their shoes. Back to where they had their horses tethered, Cathy looked at him fondly through her green, promising eyes. The boy was quiet. More quiet than usual. But he had been kind, gentle, and loving to her. And that was all that mattered.
"I hope you'll keep your promise," the boy told her. "I ride over here every afternoon. I won't expect you to be here tomorrow, unless you want to, but if you decide to come over, you know that I'll be here."
Cathy stood close to him, taking the reins of her horse and looking into the limitless depths of understanding in his eyes. She took a deep sigh, and a feeling of contentment and resignation ran through her body and a chord of tenderness crept upon her. The tenderness raced through her veins as she impetuously kissed the boy on the lips, pulled back, and then gave him an assuring smile that she would return some afternoon.
Then she remembered that Manuel was expecting her back before dark. Although it took a terrible effort to pull herself away from the boy, to leave the sacred place she now loved so well, she mounted her horse, and glanced once more back at the boy. Their eyes met. She saw a sadness upon his face. And then a light that she had never seen there before, crept across his pale expression.
"I'll try and make the next time sooner," she told him. "I think you are making things easier for me now."
"I like that," the boy smiled.
Then she turned her horse, and headed back through the winding path of the late afternoon shadows, through the thick pines, toward the barren area where the dark yellow rays of the sun brushed against the flat lands. Once she had reached the outside, she took a deep breath, gave her horse full rein, and dug her heels into it's flanks as she pointed his head back toward the ranch a few miles away. She felt almost as spirited as her horse now. And as she rode fast into the sinking sun, she rode with all the satisfaction, compassion, and fulfillment that any girl her age had ever known. The cool breezes rustled her horse's mane as it blew in the air, and she rode gracefully and fast back to the ranch, knowing that her secret was something she could never tell anybody. Her only concern was how many afternoons would the boy be at the old shack?
Suddenly, she heard her name being paged over the airport paging system. Her eyes opened slowly, and at first she was almost in a stupor, before realizing she had fallen asleep in the airport lounge. Quickly, she went to the phone, picked it up, and was told that a gentleman was waiting for her at the main desk of the airlines. She went to the powder room, quickly composed herself, then out of the lounge to the counter to meet Juan Cordon.
Most of the flights had departed by that time of day. The others were not due in for a while. The airport was relatively quieter than when she had landed. Just a few people were about. In fact there were more people behind the various airlines counters than those in the lobby. She walked toward the counter, and saw a tall,
slender man, with black wavy hair, and olive skin, staring at her. Instinctively, she knew that this was Juan. She walked over to him, asked if he were Juan Cordon, and he smiled pleasantly, apologizing for being late. Then he suggested that she give him her baggage checks so that he could pick up her bags and throw them in the station wagon.
She watched him take the checks, and take control of the situation. A few minutes later, the baggage loaded, they were in the station wagon heading away from the airport towards her summer home for the next three months.
2
Juan was very handsome. He stood nearly six feet, with dark flashing eyes, beautiful teeth, and an understanding manner about him. Possibly in his late twenties, he bore some of the fine mannerisms that she had remembered in his Uncle Manuel. He was the quiet type, she thought, and as they drove out of the city, and onto the road that carried them to desert. She now felt refreshed and looked forward to seeing the ranch again.
"I hope you're hungry," Juan said, "Because Maria is fixing a wonderful dinner for us this evening."
"Maria?" Cathy asked.
Juan nodded.
"Maria is my aunt. Manuel's sister, my uncle you know. She decided that since you were coming out, that a woman should be in the house a few days to clean it up so that it is receptive to another woman."
"That's very nice of her to do that," Cathy said, "and I am hungry. I have a great appetite tonight."
"That's good," Juan smiled. "I remember my uncle telling me how well you liked Mexican food. So Maria has made it a special point to prepare a few of her favorite Mexican dishes for you. Unlike the ones you have in the restaurants back in your part of the country, this food is real food, because it comes from the land. We grow the corn, and we make the corn into tortillas. And the beef comes from the ranch and so do the vegetables. Even the hot peppers. It has been some time since you have probably had a good Spanish dinner,
no?"
"Yes," Cathy smiled, "It has been a long time."
"Then you will enjoy the dinner we have prepared for you tonight," Juan assured her. "And you will like Maria too. She will stay on as long as you want her to. After that, she will go back to her place and continue her work. But she wanted to be here to have the place ready for you. After all, Uncle Manuel lived alone in most of the big house, and it was pretty much of a man's place. Maria thought it should have a few feminine touches. And believe me, Senorita Cathy, she has done a fine job. You will like it.
"I'm sure I will, Juan," she smiled.
Then she eased back into her seat, and looked out the window at the passing country side. The cactus was in bloom, and the bright afternoon sun was fading away on the mountain tops. A slight chill was coming over the desert as the shadows of darkness began to creep over the sands about them. The drive to the ranch was nearly a hundred miles towards the northeast, she remembered. It was a drive that she had taken many times before in her life. But the first time with Juan. Then she suddenly remembered that she forgot to extend her sympathy about his uncle. She felt somewhat embarrassed, as she glanced at him, wondering if he had detected her not bringing up the subject.
"There isn't much to say, Juan," she began, "but you have my deepest apologizes about your Uncle Manuel. I feel very badly that he has left us."
"He has left us only in body, but he is still here in spirit," Juan replied proudly. "He has left some big boots for me to fill, but I will try to fill them in the best way I possibly can. I hope that my work will satisfy you, Senorita, as it would have been my uncle's wish."
"I'm sure it will, Juan," she answered.
Then there was silence. Juan directed his eyes straight ahead toward the road that stretched like long ribbon through the sand into the red horizon. Cathy slumped back, staring ahead, feeling completely relaxed, thinking of the wonderful dream she had had sleeping in the lounge, waiting for Juan. There must have been a psychological explanation, she thought, but for some reason the boy in her dream had never existed. And she had never seen his face before. And when she was fourteen, she had never experienced such a wild, sexual thrill. But there was the shack. It was an old miner's shack, lonely and deserted, with only the remnants of time remaining in the battered logs that had stood for possibly a century. It was a place she used to go in the afternoons, and lose herself to the rest of the world. It had been her own private retreat. So private that she had never even seen anybody at the shack, or along the lake, in the many years she had ridden up into the pines, since she was a child. But her dream had been exciting, stimulating, and exhilarating. But the most embarrassing part of it all, was when she awakened, she felt a strange wetness between her legs that was not
there before. Yes, in her dreams she experienced strange but welcome fantasies.
She looked out of the side of her eyes at Juan's stern face, his eyes fixed upon the road ahead, his jaw straight and firm. He seemed kind, strong, and sincere. Juan looked over at Cathy, and saw that the light in her wide green eyes suddenly began to fade. Then Cathy slowly closed her eyes, relaxing, but not sleeping, breathing in the fresh, invigorating desert air. And she kept her eyes closed most of the way, because she wanted to lock in her brain the memory of that wonderful dream she experienced just a short time before. From time to time, she opened her eyes and saw the red light of the sun upon the mountain desert. The road was twisting and turning into the mountains and the station wagon was following the snakelike trail, like a sure-footed mule. Cathy looked out at the decomposed granite hills, the yucca plants, and the stains of red clay along the bluffs. There were several little adobe huts along that flashed by the wayside. It was typically the West, she thought. But she had learned to love it. And after seeing Juan, she was quite sure, that she was also going to enjoy the summer. A short time later Cathy felt the station wagon slowing down. She opened her eyes, and saw the headlights flashing out into the darkness, as the car turned and she saw the familiar archway that formed the entrance of the ranch. The big gate was open, and she could plainly see the emblem of their branding iron upon the crest of the arch before them. It was a large flat bar, placed horizontally, resting over the letter 0. It was a name that her father had inherited with the purchase of the ranch. All the cattle and horses carried this brand. People in the area knew that this was called the Bar None. The man who originally built the ranch named it so that everyone would be welcome. But she was sure that during the years that it was there, it also must have had several double meanings. Even to her.
After several minutes of riding the bumpy, dusty road, past rows and rows of cottonwoods that flanked the road on either side, she saw the dim yellow light of the ranch house. Then as they approached, all of it came back to her. There was the huge two-story sprawling ranch house, the several barns and sheds to the rear, the big corral, and the green manicured lawn that Manuel had taken so much pride in keeping up. It was almost a race between his watering at night and the hot sun trying to burn it out the next day. But throughout the years, as long as she could remember, Manuel had won against the sun. Nothing had changed. And although the ranch looked lonely, sitting out there in the desert miles away from any other place, Cathy realized that possibly this was one reason why she enjoyed it so much. It was the reason why her father had bought it. Not only was it a top cattle-bearing ranch but it was a place of contentment and enchantment. But now, with her father gone, and Manuel's recent death, it was up to her to do the best she could to handle the business that confronted her. She knew nothing about ranching except the few little things that Manuel used to tell her. The rest of it she found in the library of the ranch where she read most of Zane Grey's novels. This, along with spending many summers on the ranch, was about the extent of her knowledge of the West. But she felt that it was a little more comprehensive than most girls her age knew. And like her father, who needed a man like Manuel to run the place, she too now would have to make that decision. She wondered if Juan was interested in taking over the place and running it as a cattle ranch. She shuddered at the mere idea of selling it. But sometimes one has to do things out of necessity. But she would worry about this at a later time. Right now she was anxious to change her clothes, sit down to a good dinner, and enjoy a restful sleep.
The station wagon pulled up in front of the ranch house in the huge circle drive that came in past the barns and Juan helped her out of the car, and took her into the house.
There, she met Maria, a plump Mexican lady in her early sixties, who spoke broken English, and whose chubby figure was transported around by a pair of heavy legs that fell into buckskin moccasins. Her dark black hair, streaked with grey, was parted in the middle, and fell into braids on either side of her face, giving her an almost Indian-like appearance. Her big brown eyes were warm and understanding and gentle. And when she smiled, you could see the flashing gold in her front teeth, and the fullness of her face causing her eyes to narrow.
"I hope you will be very happy here, Cathy," Maria said. "Manuel had told us a lot about you through the years. I'm sorry that it took his death to bring us together for the first time."
Juan exchanged glances with Maria, then smiling at Cathy, told her that he would bring in her luggage and take it to her regular room on the second floor, and the two of them could get to know each other while he completed his chore.
"I have visited here a few times before," Maria began. "You see, my brother Manuel was the oldest. He
very seldom came down to see us because he always said he did not have the time. We all knew that he did. But he was the type that never believed in vacations or getting away. He felt that if he should be away from this place a few days, and something went wrong, then he would be responsible. Poor Manuel. He always had the feeling that if he were not here, things would not go right. Now that he's gone, things will have to go right. Juan and I, if you like, will stay on and help you as much as we can."
Cathy smiled gratefully into the fat woman's eyes. She liked Maria at first glance. She was sure they would become fast friends. And as she looked at the place, comparing it to what it was the last time she was here, she recognized the feminine touches that had previously never existed. Maria had definitely brightened up the place. The vases of wild flowers now had little Indian designed doilies under them. There were some large wild plants in the main room of the ranch house. And although there remained a certain semblance of masculinity, Maria had at least changed over half of that to make the place more decorative. Cathy appreciated that too. Not that a ranch has to be definitely feminine. But what Maria had done had been done in good taste. It was more like home. It had a warm, welcome atmosphere. And if the other rooms of the house were like this one, the one she saw the first time she walked up those steps, then she knew that she would be very, very pleased.
Maria took her to her room on the second floor. It was beautifully decorated. It was even feminine now. Instead of the old Navaho blanket that used to be on the bed there was now a frilled bedspread, tuffeted, in a satiny blue that matched the walls. The old gun rack that used to flank the wall behind the bed, had been taken down. In its place was a large painting of the desert. As Cathy looked back and admired it, Maria told her that it had been in her home a long time and that she wanted Cathy to have it. It had been painted years ago by a Navaho artist. The window, which had always been shuttered before, was now open, and beautiful grapes were flanking the beautifully designed curtains that were blowing in the evening breeze. The large six-inch floor boards that once were completely bare were now covered by a large oval knit rug that practically covered the entire floor. The dresser was decorated with beautiful braided doilies of Navaho design and as Cathy turned on the lamps on either side, it brightened the whole room, and made it feel warm and livable. It was quite different from the plain old room she had stayed in during her past visits there and although she missed the way the room had originally been, the way she had grown up knowing it, she appreciated the way it was now. Maria had done a fine job.
Cathy walked to the mirror, and began touching up her make-up when Juan came in with her suitcases and placed them at the base of her bed. Maria told Juan to get ready for dinner and they should leave Cathy alone until she freshened up. Then Maria told Cathy that she should take her time, take a warm bath, and get comfortable for a nice home-cooked Spanish dinner. They would be downstairs waiting. And when Cathy came down, they would be ready. Cathy thanked them, and as the door shut, she walked over, lifted the suitcase to her bed, flipped it open, and took out some of her clothes and started hanging them up in the closet. She would shower quickly and slip into something comfortable. She did not want to keep them waiting. Besides, the inviting smell of the Mexican food was now filtering up through the air from the kitchen, invading her nostrils, and giving her an appetite.
Cathy found herself sitting at the huge living room table, leaning back comfortably in one of the hand-carved Mexican chairs, dark wood with padded red leather backs, that she had first enjoyed during her first Mexican meal at the ranch. Maria's cooking was a gourmet's delight. She had made a combination of everything from tacos and guacamole salad to chile relleno topped off with fried beans and rice. And the salad, spiced with different vegetables and peppers, was one that was a recipe that would be sought after by some of the better Spanish restaurants up North. She sat there, almost stuffing herself with the good food, the food she loved so well, as Maria and Juan told her about the ranch. She listened while drinking the dark red wine that Manuel had prepared years ago; she felt it touching every taste bud in her mouth as she drank down the dark red spirits with her meal.
"There are several things I will have to tell you about in addition to the regular business," Juan said. "As you know, your father willed that my Uncle Manuel would run the ranch the best way possible. And, as you know, he was a very capable man. A very honest man. But like everything, even ranches like businesses, have their good and bad years. The last few years have not been the best."
Cathy looked at Juan, took a bite off of her taco, and then saw the hesitant look in Maria's yes. "What Juan is trying to tell you, Cathy," Maria began, "is that Manuel had a definite plan about paying off the mortgage to the bank late this summer."
"I wasn't aware that any money was owed on the ranch," Cathy said.
"Manuel never made you aware of these things, Cathy," Maria explained. "I can show you correspondence in the desk where he took these matters up with your father over the years and from time to time they borrowed money, had bad years, had good years, and paid the bank back. But this time, with your father gone, and with the ranch of this size to operate, there was not enough available cash to pay all the bills and still keep things going. Manuel took out a loan at the bank a few months ago before he died. He promised that the money would be paid back in six months. And he told the banker that for security he would not mortgage the ranch, but instead mortgage the cattle that were to be taken to market after the fall roundup."
"Then why do we have any financial problems," Cathy asked.
"We don't," Juan replied. "But the summer has been dry, and the grass has not been as abundant as before, and the cattle are lean. They will not bring as much, but they will bring enough, I'm sure, to pay off the note." "How much is the note for?" Cathy asked.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars plus interest," Juan answered. "I will show you the books and the bank receipts and all the papers which will give you a full accounting of how the money has been spent so far and you will have a record of all the transactions."
"I believe you, Juan," Cathy said. "I'm sure you know this business better that I do. And I am sure that you are competent to take over where your uncle left off. Can you stay here until at least the cattle are shipped to market and the note is paid off to the bank?"
Juan looked at her, sipped his wine, then leaned back in his chair, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
"Juan has a place of his own to the south," Maria replied. "But he will stay on with you as long as you feel you need him."
"I appreciate your answer, Maria," Cathy said. "But I would rather have it be Juan's choice than to make him feel that he's being forced into it."
"Senorita Cathy," Juan replied, "You have nothing to worry about. My place is so small that I need not worry much about it at all. I would rather extend that worry to this ranch. I cannot do everything that my Uncle Manuel could do, but I know ranching. And although I never ran a ranch this size before, I am willing to try. I am even willing to help you. And the hands here will stay on because to them it is home. Many of them have been here since you were a child. Since I was a child for that matter but the most important thing we have to remember is that we have to get the cattle to market on time to pay off the note."
"If we don't get the cattle to market to pay off the note, what happens then?" Cathy asked.
"Then as a secondary collateral to the bank, a mortgage is placed against the ranch," Juan explained.
"What's so bad about that?" Cathy asked. "This place is worth far more than that."
Maria looked at Juan as he took another drink of wine, looked directly at Cathy, and smiled.
"When your father first came out here," Juan began, "a very kind man ran the bank. He was a friend not only to your father and to my Uncle Manuel but to all of the other ranchers in the area. He loaned them money when he knew that they may have lean times and could not pay it back. And my Uncle Manuel told me about those times, too. Most of the ranchers in this area at one time or another had their problems. But they borrowed the money and they paid back. And even though it was sometimes paid back later than when agreed to, it was always paid back. Their word was their bond."
"What Juan is trying to tell you, Cathy," Maria interrupted, "is that this kind, old man who owned and ran the bank for years, also passed away recently. He had no family. So the bank was sold to a very wealthy cattleman that moved out here from the East a few years ago and has been trying to grab up as much property as he can to make his own ranch the biggest spread of them all and he has been very successful. Especially since he took over the bank."
"But I don't quite understand what you're trying to tell me," Cathy said, puzzled.
"I will try to make it very simple," Juan said. "As you know, all of the acreage of his ranch forms what you might say is a huge rectangle. When this man, who now owns the bank, originally owned all of the land to the east of this spread. After he took over the bank, a good friend of ours, Jose Romera, who's family had a huge
ranch to the south, could not pay a note at the bank on time, the banker foreclosed immediately. He would not even allow Jose to pay the interest. The ranch was put up for sale. And although the ranch was worth much more than the amount of the loan, nobody could come up with the money to pay off the mortgage. So the banker took over the ranch, and added it to his acreage. But he was not all bad. Although Jose did not own the ranch anymore, the banker let him stay on with his family to live there and run the place. It is a sad thing when such a thing happens. And then it happened again. The ranch to the west of us fell into the same situation. The banker took that ranch over. But again, he let the original owners stay on and run the place. After all, they had no choice. They had no place to go and they were glad that he was thoughtful enough to let them remain there."
"Thoughtful, hell," Cathy stammered. "He sounds like a real son-of-a.... "
"You must not say that," Maria interrupted. "I knew how you must feel but he did not do anything illegal. He is a very shrewd businessman."
"I have a better description of him," Cathy said, pouring herself another glass of wine, "but I'll reserve that for later. Possibly when and if I ever meet him."
"Please let me continue my story, if I may," Juan said.
Cathy nodded, sipping the flavor of the fine wine.
"Then a large spread of land to the south that stretched from the east to the west fell into the same problem. The owner could not meet the note on time, and the banker took that land over too. When he did that, it gave him the largest single ranch in the territory."
Then Juan rose from the table, walked over to the wall, and pulled down a huge map of the territory that rolled down like an old window shade. It was nearly five feet square after he pulled it all the way down and it was quite visible from where they were all sitting. Juan took a pencil from his pocket and began pointing to some areas on the map, explaining the locations of the other ranches and where the Bar None was located in relation to the other acquisitions.
"You see, Seniorita Cathy," Juan said, "your ranch is sitting here facing the highway on one side, which is the north, and on the other three sides, you can see where the banker owns all of the land. Now I am not saying that he would do the same thing to you that he did to the others, but if he were to be able to foreclose the mortgage on the note, and you were not able to come up with the twenty-five thousand, then he could do what he did to the others. He could put your ranch into foreclosure. And he would probably hope that you could not come up with the money. If he did this, he could then fill up the complete block because your ranch is sitting right in the middle of his entire spread. Your ranch, Senorita Cathy, is the largest in the territory. If the banker were to take over this place, he would own everything for miles in every direction that one could see from standing in the middle of this spot."
Cathy watched him point the pen to an area toward the back of their stretch. Then she saw the geography reflecting what could take place. She saw the threat that possibly could be looming over her head. And although it was only a possibility, she realized that it was also feasible. Juan sat down at the table, and drank some more wine.
"Do you think we'll have any trouble getting the cattle to market after the fall roundup?" Cathy asked.
"I can see no problems now," Juan answered. "But I felt that we should make you aware of the situation so that you would know what is happening. After all, this is your ranch, and you have not only inherited it, you've inherited its problems too."
Cathy kept sipping her wine, thinking, wondering what kind of man the banker really was. Could he be as bad as what they claimed? Surely there could be no problem with all the cattle they had and the money they made after the roundup each fall. She had seen the checks come in every fall and knew that the ranch had shown a profit. Sometimes a large one. Sometimes a small one. But it had always been in the black. However, she was never interested in the affairs of how it was run. And she realized fully that businesses like this, had to take out loans, had to pledge collateral, had to take certain risks, and had to borrow and repay certain moneys. And then she thought that it was quite a strange revelation. She had planned on coming out this summer to dedicate a complete three months to complete her thesis for her master's degree in psychology. She would try to do that too. However, it was extremely important because if she could not do it, it would throw her behind in her studies at least another year. On the other hand, she could not afford to put the ranch in
jeopardy. It was about all she had left now. And as she toyed with the glass of wine, looking at the maroon-colored liquid in the crystal stemmed glass, she remembered one thing that she learned in psychology. Drinking never helps solve one's problems. But sometimes it does help one find the way.
She thanked Juan for briefing her about the ranch, complimented Maria with all sincerity about the wonderful, delicious dinner, and then commenting on the wonderful wine Manuel had made each year, she drank down the last glass and rose from the table. Then she very politely excused herself for the night, telling Juan and Maria that after a good night's sleep, she would join them in the morning and that she would then start going over things.
"Would you like to take a walk around the house tonight and get some fresh air?" Juan asked. "No, thanks," Cathy answered, "but I'll take a rain check."
Juan nodded politely, understandingly, as he watched her turn and walk away. Cathy bade them goodnight not too steadily, grabbed the wooden handrail and, still not too steadily, walked up the stairs. She pulled back the bedspread, turned out the light, took off her clothes, and slid between the refreshing clean sheets. Then she pulled the spread up to cover the flawless white throat of the sheets. She closed her eyes, her mouth slightly parted. Then she took a deep breath, pushed her head into the soft downy pillow, and was soon drifting away into a deep slumber.
3
Cathy's dreams took her into that world of the unknown, the world of fantasies she endeared so much, a world, when after she left it, she owed no explanation. Or felt no guilt or shame. Many things which were exciting to her subconsciously, came out in these dreams. She was quite aware of that. But she entertained each one and hoped that there would be others to follow. In a way, she accomplished practically the same thing while she was asleep that she would if she were awake and out with a man. As a small girl, having wild dreams, most of them about sex, she wondered if she would ever grow out of them. It seemed that they had increased throughout her years. And it also seemed that she was enjoying them more. It was an escape into the unknown. A place where most men were ideal, nice things happened, and she awakened with gratifying feelings.
Although the result of these frequent dreams were strictly stemmed from her subconscious desires, Cathy had never really let herself go with any man. True, she had had her flames, her love affairs, her various dates with men, but none of them had ever sustained themselves. She did not allow them to continue on such a basis that they would sustain. And many of the fellows that she dated, from the time that she was back in high school, up until the present time, wanted to see her again and even though she had indulged in sexual relations with a few of them, she began to develop a very serious and noticeable complex about going to bed with a man. To her it was naughty, embarrassing, and not quite the proper thing to do. She had to fight her feelings the next morning. When she looked at herself in the mirror and saw that reflection of guilt and the feeling of shame that crept through her body, knowing that what she had done the night before was strictly a result of not being able to say "no," she became thoroughly disgusted with herself. And so she began to drive men away. She had even gained a slight reputation among various men who had dated her many who did not know each other, but it was all the same. Was she just a big tease? Or did she have some deep psychological problem that kept her from seeing a man more than once or twice? She remembered one knowledgeable man in psychology stating that possibly she was a nymphomaniac. That when she loved men, she had to love more than one. And she had to love more than one quite frequently. Cathy knew better than this. She certainly was not a nymphomaniac. But the idea subconsciously excited her. In her innermost thoughts, from time to time, lying alone in bed, she even wondered how exciting it would be to be a nympho. But she ruled that out. She knew enough about herself, and about psychology, that she had a mental barrier built up against all men. Not just one, but all.
She welcomed the invitation for dinner and drinks. She enjoyed the warm, quiet atmosphere of a delightful restaurant. She enjoyed all the attributes that came afterwards. She was not even hesitant when men would make a pass at her. She enjoyed having them kiss her, caress her, and hold her tightly. If a man didn't do that, she thought, he must either be very polite or pretty square. And she realized that many men, after taking out a girl for dinner and drinks, tried to conclude the evening in the bedroom.
But she was a pretty good judge of these types. The men that had really broken her down, kissed her so passionately, held her so violently, got her so excited, until there was no resistance, were the ones that ended up taking her to bed. And she had cooperated with each and every one of them to the utmost that her female body could endure. She had kissed them, twisted and turned, rubbing her nude body against theirs, and usually ending up in a mass of sweat, and extreme gratification, she had fulfilled all of her wanton sexual desires. In some instances, she even promised to go out with the men again a few nights later. But when the phone would ring, she would answer it with apprehension, and pass off some excuse which permitted her to stay in the reclusion of her apartment.
And in her apartment, alone and even lonely, she then rebelled within herself. She began to hate herself for refusing the date. She even wondered why she had broken it. And then her mind began to wonder as to the last time she had seen a man. And her wandering mind began to excite her. Because she thought of those past evenings, the nights when she had been held and loved, and made so happy, and the nights that she had slept so peacefully. She was chasing away from her what she really desired. And although she knew her weak points, knew that once she was in a man's arms that she would be very vulnerable for bed, this is what built up the wall of resistance around her. She could not, or would not, allow herself to be placed in that position. It
wasn't the men that she feared so much. She feared herself more than anything else. It was a strange paradox, one that she hoped to erase in time. She had secretly hoped that good will conquer evil because she felt what she was doing was evil. Not evil in the sense of succumbing to a man and fulfilling his every desire. And having him fulfill hers. But evil in the sense that she was depriving herself of what she wanted most. Sex. And in her spare time, when she was not teaching at the university, she had even read psychology books of case histories about this subject. She analyzed her own situation. And she even knew how to cure it. But the cure frightened her as much as her apprehension to go out with a man again who had once taken her to bed. And she well knew that all of the psychology in the world could not break a barrier that had possibly been building up in her mind since childhood. But she knew there did exist such a thing as mind over matter. And in recent months, she had tried. She had tried desperately. And she knew that there would be other men, other places, and other situations. The only thing she could do was the promise that she made to herself. Try.
But her mind was now exploring the unknown. She was traveling into the unknown valley of dreams. It was almost like visiting a place that you would never have to go pack to, people you would never have to see again, but sexual experiences that you would never forget. And now, dreaming away, she saw herself wearing a bright print dress and as she walked it made a little slurring noise over her silk slip when she moved around. She was sure that the man standing in front of her, in the dim fog of the morning, could hear that noise. Because as he looked at her, it seemed that his ears could hear the faint sounds. And as she walked to him, in her dream, she noticed that they were in a small graveyard. And she had to step carefully, quietly, and slowly to meet the man that stood near her at the other end of the graveyard with open arms. She glanced down at herself as she walked and she wondered if she would excite him. Her breasts were not full and large like other girls, but they were young, and hard and firm. And they seemed to thrust out against the silky material of her white gown.
As she neared, she saw that the man waiting for her was Juan. He was dressed in a plain white shirt, halfway buttoned down the front, a pair of black trousers, and not as casual as she had seen him that night at the dinner table. She turned her eyes towards him and saw the faint cloud of happiness cross them. When she walked toward him, she felt the strong feeling run throughout her body that was like a magnetic field, commanding her to him.
Juan stood there, hearing her light, regular breathing, scenting the light fragrance of her clean, smooth skin, admiring the contours of her slender, shapely body. Then she stood there in front of his eyes, reaching out, taking hold of his hands. He pulled her to him, managed to find her lips, and then touching her open lips, moved his tongue pat her teeth. Cathy clasped her mouth around it, hungrily working it with her own tongue. Juan just held her tightly, letting her do all the work. And she was enjoying it tremendously.
Cathy sighed, leaned back.
"I'm glad you invited me out to meet you tonight," Cathy told him.
Juan smiled, looking into her face. Her eyes were shiny and bright. There was even a slight glaze to them. Already he could see that she was beginning to feel the heat of passion pass through her body.
Then he glanced down at the pointed centers of Cathy's breasts. He stared at them for several seconds looking at them in every detail, almost at every fraction of her nipples, finding a fascination in watching them. They were quite plain through the white silk gown. She wore no bra. And her nipples were rosy and very beautiful. Almost like little pink flowers jutting out like stems.
"Do you like my breasts?" she asked, softly.
Juan smiled gently, answering her with his eyes, and then ran his hand across one of them, then crossing over to the other. They were full, firm, sensitive, and hard. Hard were her little pink nipples, almost poking through the white silk gown, and firm were her breasts that carried themselves in an upright position above her stomach. Cathy tensed upon the touch and her eyes half closed.
Then he reached out for Cathy, pulling her close, and felt her breasts press against his chest. They were soft and yielding, warm and supple. And he could feel them pulsing with life and passion. Then her lips felt his. And for the next few minutes, their tongues moved together in fast, rapid rhythm.
Juan now felt the heat of sexual frustration flood over him. His muscles seemed to turn into spring steel as he pulled her to him, crushing her in the vise-like embrace of his arms. He kissed her and kissed her, and she squirmed and squirmed until they both came up for air.
Then he led her to the high grass that was growing up around the forgotten tombstones into the fog of the night, almost into a place that she had never been. They stopped in a grassy area at the end where they were several feet past some of the aging tombstones, and in a quiet place where the fog of the night was so dense that they could not be seen by anybody. Then, as if out of nowhere, Juan produced a large blanket, almost like a matador. He threw it upon the damp grass. Then he walked to her, put his arms around her, and both of them sank to their knees, and rolled over the large heavy red blanket.
Cathy strained against him, moaning ever so slightly. Their lips met, open and trembling, warm and moist. Excitement was rising in her body as her tongue stabbed past his teeth and settled there, tasting in the sensation of him for several seconds, and then beginning to explore carefully. He pulled himself against her, reached his arms around her body, and pulled one hand back and sank it into the fullness of her rigid right breast. Then he ran his tongue down over the other one, and in a few minutes, her low-cut gown had slipped beyond the purpose it was meant, both of her small firm breasts were pointed upright to the sky. Upright to Juan.
Juan slid the other hand down the curve of her breast and down the flatness of her stomach. She was completely nude with only the white silk gown draped about her. He felt a light moan come from within her and he slightly bit her ear lobe as she twisted in his arms, seeking his lips desperately with hers, grabbing him frantically, pulling him to her.
After that, he pulled her over to him closer, and she let out tiny little moans as he ran his fingers up and down her thighs, touching the soft nude flesh of her body gently as he felt her hands digging against his sides and into his back, pulling him against her breast. She was squirming, breathing heavily, and filled with the overwhelming desire for him to love her.
Then she felt Juan, running his hands over the flat of her stomach, and pulling his head down to her navel, running his tongue softly and wildly around that forbidden area. She leaned back in ecstasy, almost convulsing and jerking her body in spasms, as he kissed her warm, wetly parting of flesh between her legs, plunging his tongue into her, intoxicating himself with the sweet aroma of her. He kissed and babbled and crowed, enjoying the delights as she grabbed the back of his head with her hands and pushed it against her. Cathy writhed and moaned, and let out little scream-like noises. And as Juan's kisses became more vigorous, she babbled almost in agony, throwing her almost unconscious face back against the blanket, her mouth open, her breathing hard as she gasped for the moist midnight air.
Then she screamed loudly as she climaxed against his tongue, her muscles in her thigh spasming, experiencing an orgasm she had never known before.
Then she arched her body against him, exciting him so much, that he glided swiftly into her and began setting her loins on fire. As he rammed into her, faster and faster, he excited her even more by nibbling and kissing her nipples, almost imitating the tempo of going in and out of her. She met his every plunge with raised buttocks until they had established reciprocity. As her breathing increased, so did the lunges he was pushing in her, and then she arched, screamed again, and they climaxed together, satisfying their loins. Sweaty, breathing heavily, they lay there for a few minutes before breaking apart, and then lying together, side by side. They had strained together with such savage desperation and wild force yet for Cathy it was over much too fast to even satisfy their feverish bodies. She knew that Juan had dipped into her well of passion. The well of passion that she had wanted him to take so much. And she knew that in him she found an endless lust which would never burn completely out. Because he had provided her with a fathomless sexual hunger that could never be dulled. As she lay there panting, taking in great bites of air, looking into his eyes, she was almost lost in time. The white clouds of fog were now moving in about them. It became thicker, and thicker. And then suddenly it enveloped them to such an extent that Juan became an obscure vision before her. She began to shiver as the sweat now began to take on a moist, cold blanket around her body. The chill of the cold desert night made her feel that she was in ice. And then she looked up, saw that Juan was no longer there, and that she was completely engulfed in the swirling mist of the clouds that were now falling.
Now her sexual desire had been stilled. The desire that had once, only minutes ago, been so demanding and desperate. So desperate that she escaped frantically into the spell of a stranger's passion. And as she lay there, her breasts rising and falling with the breathing, she could suddenly hear the beating of her own heart in the stillness of her bedroom.
Slowly, Cathy opened her eyes. Sweat was pouring from her body. Her hands were shaking. There was a choking in her throat and her eyes were welled in tears. It had almost been a nightmare. But such a beautiful nightmare, she thought. She raised up in bed, pulled back the covers, jumped out and removed her sleeping gown. The she grabbed a thick thirsty terrycloth bathrobe, wrapped it about her, pulling the collar tightly around her neck, wiping her brow and her hair with one sleeve, and then almost without awakening completely, fell back into bed.
Then she pulled the covers over her shoulders, closed her eyes, and tried to blot out everything that took place in the dream. It had been beautiful, she thought. And it had been extremely exciting. With dreams like this, she felt she was luckier than most other girls. She had achieved the ultimate sexual satisfaction and there was no waking up to the feeling of guilt and shame like there had been in the past when a man, in physical presence, had been in bed with her.
A few minutes later tiny shadows, filtering through the open window, danced across her face, as the chill wind of the night blew the cottonwoods outside back and forth, as she fell into a deep, deep, sleep.
4
The next morning Cathy rose from her bed, opened her sleepy eyes, stretched out her arms and yawned. She walked to the window where the morning sun was pouring in and saw the various sheds and barns behind the house. Stretching out for as far as she could see, almost to the purple mountains against the horizon, were the large black dots of cattle. She tried to count them, but after she reached about a hundred, she gave up, as they were moving around in the sun, grazing nonchalantly, and she knew that there had to be at least a few hundred more. Small birds were chirping and filled the morning air with music. At least it was music to her ears. She had spent such a relaxing, peaceful night, that waking up to a view like this was almost beyond belief. In the corral, were several wild horses, mustangs that were brought down from the mountains. A few of the wranglers were breaking them and she saw Juan talking to one of the men, giving him some instructions, and then she watched him as he walked away to one of the barns. Then she turned around and looked at the clock on her nightstand and saw that it was nearly noon. She hadn't slept that long in ages.
Hurriedly she showered and, upon returning from the shower, found Maria in her room, taking her clothes out of the suitcases, straightening them, and hanging them in place in the large closet.
"Maria, you don't have to do that," Cathy said, wrapping a towel around her.
"I'm here to help you, Cathy," Maria answered. "You have more important things to do than to worry about putting away your clothes. This is my job and I have done it for many people during my lifetime. I am only too happy to do it for you."
"I appreciate your thoughtfulness very much," Cathy replied.
"When you are dressed and ready," Maria said, "I will have a good breakfast for you."
"I'm sorry I overslept, Maria," Cathy said, "I guess I was more tired than I thought."
"You need not apologize for that," Maria replied, still putting away the clothes. "The sleep is good for you. Out here you are at a high altitude of over 6000 feet. The air you breathe in here is pure and fresh. Much different, I imagine than the air you breathe in back East with all the dust and dirt from what I read in the papers."
"You are so right," Cathy smiled, getting into her things.
"Juan would like to take you over some of the range and tell you what we've been doing, and what has to be done," Marie said, "but that will come after you have had something to eat."
"I won't be too long," Cathy said. "And your dinner last night, Maria, was delicious. I hope you will stay around long enough to fix more of them."
"That is the only way I know how to cook," Maria said. "Everything comes from the soil. We may be poor, Cathy, but we know how to raise food, whether it is meat or vegetable, and our ancestors have passed this on throughout the years, that we too know that we cannot go to a store every time we want something. What I prepare for you, is grown on the ranch, including the beef, the vegetables, and even the wine was made here."
"If that isn't self-survival, I don't know what is," Cathy answered, now almost ready.
"When one has to look out for himself," Maria said, "then he learns these things rather easily."
"Maria, the dinner you fixed last night could not be duplicated in the best Spanish restaurant anywhere," Cathy said, complimenting her with sincerity.
Maria only smiled, took the rest of the clothes from the last suitcase, put them on hangers, and then arranged them neatly in the closet. Cathy watched her from the reflection in the mirror, as she gently straightened out each dress, carefully buttoned each blouse, and meticulously made sure that everything in the closet was hung properly. Then she proceeded to take the rest of Cathy's wardrobe and place it in there accordingly. Cathy put on some light make-up, combed her hair, and standing back taking one last look at herself, decided that she was ready for breakfast. Or was it lunch?
"You look very nice," Maria said, looking at her up and down, admiring the tan canvas jeans topped off by the green and white plaid shirt.
"I'll have to get used to wearing Western boots again," Cathy smiled, "but once I'm in them a few hours, I feel like an old hand."
They both smiled, and Maria suggested that she come down for breakfast. Cathy followed her down into
the main room, now looking around for the first time in the daylight, the first time in a couple of years, and now realizing how precious this place could really be. She regretted the fact that she had not come out here every year. Yes, there was something about it all that made her want to sink her teeth in the business at hand, and maybe even take over the ranch and run it. That morning she had awakened with enthusiasm, a whole new concept of life, and great inspiration. Then she went on out into the large kitchen where Maria was preparing her breakfast at the round wooden table that was surrounded by a half a dozen captain chairs. Cathy looked around at the kitchen. It hadn't changed a bit, except a few touches that reflected Maria's taste. There was the long line of shelves on one side of the wall, and underneath that a sink and a hand pump that brought in water, fresh and cold, from a well a hundred feet below. The floors were covered with tiny Indian designed throw rugs, woven by the Jicarillos or some other tribe near the area. They had been there for a long time, Cathy remembered. Because when she first came there as a little girl at that time they even looked worn. The rest of the kitchen was as she had remembered. It was large with high ceilings and a huge window that looked out toward the mountains. Before she had a chance to observe any more, she smelled the aroma of warm coffee in a pot that Maria was placing before her, and she could hear the tiny spots of grease flying out of the frying pan as she smelled the bacon and eggs. Then Maria served her the complete breakfast along with toasted bread that she had baked in the old brick oven in the corner of the room. Although her stomach should have been full from the night before, Cathy could not resist the big meal placed before her, which Maria topped off with several large slices of fried potatoes.
"I hope you like what I have fixed for you," Maria said. "If there is anything else you want, and I can make it, please let me know."
"Maria, this is delicious," Cathy said, with a bite of toast in her mouth.
Maria smiled, appreciating Cathy's sincerity.
"Where is Manuel buried?" Cathy asked.
Maria turned, wiping her hands on her apron, then walked over and sat down at the table with a cup of coffee facing Cathy.
"I mean, is it nearby?" Cathy asked.
"There is a small cemetery a few miles from here," Maria explained. "It is a couple of miles up the road directly across from our ranch at that part. It is small and very very old. But a lot of our relatives are buried there. It was Manuel's wish to be put to rest there. It is as old as the pines up along the lake. And Manuel has coined many of his forefathers who also went there nearly a century ago."
"I'd like to ride up there and see it," Cathy said. "I remember when I was a small girl that we rode by a small cemetery, Manuel and I, but I paid little attention then."
"One never pays attention to a cemetery until there is a loved one that has gone there," Maria said.
Cathy saw a sad look creep into Maria's eyes. She felt sorry that she had brought up the subject. But she wanted to know where Manuel was buried. She felt instinctively that she wanted to go there. She wanted to see where Manuel had chosen to spend eternity. There was a slight feeling of remorse within her now, as she felt more strongly that she should have come down for the funeral. But there was not enough time. She had gone all over that before with Juan. And then it suddenly dawned upon her that they were talking about a cemetery. Because last night, in her dreams she now recalled, she was with Juan in a cemetery.
"There is more if you would like for me to fix it," Maria said, seeing that Cathy was practically finished with her meal.
Cathy shook her head, sipped her coffee, and leaned back from the table.
"Juan wants to take you out and show you the ranch, that is as much as he possibly can do before the sun goes down," Maria said. "Tell him to take you to the cemetery to where Manuel is buried. You will both be riding in that direction anyway. And not too far away from there is our boundary line on the side that flanks the banker's ranch."
"Who is this banker that suddenly decided that he wanted to have the largest ranch in this area?" Cathy asked.
"His name is Frederick Raines," Maria answered. "He is a very rich and powerful man." "And from what you told me last night, a pretty ruthless one too," Cathy added.
"Perhaps that is how he became so wealthy," Maria said. "He has taken many ranches, put them together,
and now he has the largest spread, second only to this place."
"I would like to meet him," Cathy said, her eyes in deep thought.
"I don't think he's the type of person you would like to have as a friend," Maria warned. "I don't think that you should even bother making his acquaintance until the time comes, even if it should be necessary then." "Why?" Cathy asked.
"Because he speaks with a forked tongue, as the Indians say, and he is not a man to be trusted," Maria answered. "He may have money, he may have land, but he does not have the respect of anybody who lives in this area. He has been very bad to a lot of fine people, and they will not forget it for a very long time. If ever. I am glad that our little place is so far south of here that we do not have to worry about borrowing money from a man like that."
"You make it sound like he is really a villain," Cathy said.
"Take it from me, Cathy," Maria said, "he is like a rattlesnake. He will strike at you when your back is turned. If you feel you should meet him, and do meet him, then I would say that you should also watch him the way you would watch a rattlesnake slivering through the grass. You will never know, he might stop, comeback at you, and try to sink his venom into you."
"I'll remember that, Maria," Cathy said.
Then she rose from the table, put down the napkin, straightened herself, and told Maria that she was ready to take a ride out over the ranch. Maria went to the door, opened the screen, and called loudly out to Juan. They waited a few minutes, as Cathy put on her hat, tied her chinstrap under her neck, then tied the red scarf around her throat. She was ready now to get out to those wide open spaces, away from the noises of the city, and back to a place that she enjoyed so well for so many years when she was a younger girl. A few minutes later, Juan came walking into the kitchen, greeted Cathy with very expressive eyes, and told her that he would get a horse saddled for her and they would start out toward the spread to the west. Cathy thanked Maria for breakfast and followed Juan out the door. Maria stood there, watching them walk out to the corral, and after a minute or so, walked over to the table and began to clean up the dirty dishes.
Down at the feed barn, Juan ordered one of the wranglers to bring out Cathy's horse. It was a beautiful, strawberry roan, different from most of the other horses, with kind, gentle, eyes and a slight sense of aloofness about it. Cathy walked up to it, patted it on the head, running her fingers through its mane, and cradled her cheek against its large face. The horse whinnied, pulled its head away, and then looked at her curiously. She could tell by looking into its eyes that they were to become fast friends. The wrangler threw a blanket across the horse, then tossed on the saddle, tied the cinch, and put on the bridle. Within a matter of minutes, Cathy's horse was ready. She threw the reins back over its head, grabbed the saddle horn, and threw herself on top of the horse, and waited for Juan to mount his steed.
Then Juan looked back at her, pointed his hand in the direction far to the west, and started off in a steady gallop as Cathy followed behind on the roan. At first Cathy felt herself rocking back and forth in the saddle, but after they had traveled about a mile, she had fallen back into the swing of things, and had gotten used to the Western saddle and the feeling of being on a horse. As they neared the crest of the incline, they stopped to rest and Cathy reined her horse up tight, turned, and looked back at the ranch which seemed like several small dots in the distance. She had seen this ranch from practically every angle on the property. She knew now, in her later years, although she was still in her early twenties, how wonderful a place this really was... nestled down surrounded by hundreds of acres of land, with tall cotton-woods breaking the winds that sometimes lashed out violently against the ranchhouse and sheds, looking peaceful and undisturbed as if it had been there for a thousand years. It had been there for a long time all right. And at one time they had much more acreage. But using the formula that had taken so much grazing land for so many cattle, her father and Manuel through the years, had complied to that code, and had operated a great beef ranch. She had hoped that she could at least put things in order for somebody else to run it as successfully as they did. If not, she shuddered at the idea of ever disposing of the place by sale. On the other hand, if she must, she would stay on and run the place. After all, she had a good business head on her shoulders. Cathy was drinking in all the desert scenery that lay before her eyes. Juan reined his horse over close to hers, stood up in the stirrups and looked out across in the other direction. At first she looked at him curiously, then she saw him sit down, and he waited until she was ready, and then they started riding in the direction that he was looking. The two horses galloped neck and
neck through the afternoon sun until they finally came to the area within a quarter of a mile of the boundary line to the west. There they stopped to rest.
"Over there," Juan said, pointing, "is the ranch that belongs to Senor Raines. It stretches all the way back from the road to the rear of your ranch, then extends all the way across until it cuts the other corner and then it pulls back again to the road and goes back another mile. Like I was telling you last night, Senorita Cathy, your property is sitting in the middle of Senor Raines' ranch and even though yours is much larger, his would be mucho larger if he were to acquire your property too."
Cathy's eyes narrowed as she looked down the west line, scanned the back area against the horizon, and then looked across for miles to the other side of the ranch which was hardly visible, and saw the approximate proportions. Only the road going across the front bordered both of the ranches. Juan was right. If Raines was going to get the Bar None, he would own the entire block. But she was quite sure that that would not happen. Not if she had anything to do with it. Instead, she smiled whimsically, looked at Juan, and wiped the sweat from the inside of her hat. Then she put it back on, tucked her hair underneath it, and looking across the road at the lonely cemetery, she nodded to Juan and they slowly headed their horses out towards the dirt road to the cemetery.
When they got to the road, there was no fence separating it from one side to the other, and Cathy sat there in her saddle, looking across at the simple little Spanish cemetery that was built on a small knoll. There was a small fence around it that had long been beaten down by bad weather and the entrance had an iron archway over it and the gates were open but broken from their hinges. In a way, she thought, it resembled an old broken bird cage without the top. Inside, there were several plain tombstones, some leaning sideways, a sign of age, while others, in the form of crosses, were scattered throughout the others. A few of them bore statues on top of the stones. But in all, most of them were quite old. Then she saw the upper corner of the cemetery. There was a freshly dug mound, covered with withered flowers that had dried out from several suns and the dirt had not yet settled back into the hole. There was no marker on the grave yet, but she knew, at an instance, that this was where Manuel had been buried.
She kicked her horse in the flanks, and he went down over the small gulley and up across the small road and up to the cemetery gates. There she dismounted, tied her horse to one of the steel arches, and then slowly walked among the small graves, passed the wild grass and flowers growing around her boots, to the area in the far corner where Manuel lay. Juan tied his horse beside hers, and followed her up to where he found her standing, looking down in remorse at Manuel's grave. There was silence for a few minutes, and she looked up at Juan, and a tear rolled down one cheek. He put his arm around her shoulder, almost telling her not to cry. But this made her feel even worse. So she wept a few more tears.
"What a shame," she said. "Poor old Manuel, lying out here forgotten in the middle of a desert that has known nothing but wind, storms, and dust, and this is where he finally came to an end."
"Senorita, you are very wrong," Juan said. "He is very happy to be here. He is probably happier than most of us. Because his time had come. And it came in a way that he wanted it to. While he was working, doing his job. And this is where he wanted to be buried. Of course, we would have buried him here anyway, because he has many ancestors in this cemetery. I know you may think it is very simple and it may not compare to the fancy ones that you know from where you come from, but it is still a cemetery, there is still meaning, and it means a lot to us. If you will notice the other graves, they are all poor people, but although the flowers are withered today, there will be new ones on most of them come Sunday. Our people do not forget as readily as others."
Cathy looked at the other tombstones and saw several small wreaths of flowers wrapped around them, now dried out completely from the sun, and realized that they had been there for several days. Possibly Juan was right. She knew that the Spanish did worship the dead more than some of her own race. And she would be sure herself, if there were nobody else doing it, that there definitely would be fresh flowers on Manuel's grave this coming Sunday.
Then as she turned and walked through the cemetery, her boots brushing the tall grass, Juan's arm around her slender waist, chills began to run through her body and a slight feeling of excitement began to flush through her loins. It was ironic that here she was with Juan in a cemetery today, and in her dreams last night, she was in a cemetery with him too. She looked up at him slightly, just enough to catch the glint of him
smiling at her, and she wondered if it would be that way in real life? Juan gave her a look of assurance, but he did not realize that it had a double meaning. And she did not realize that although she was trying to push herself away from him that he possessed a certain amount of Latin charm that made her find him quite attractive. And although she would not admit it to herself, and even vowed to herself that she would never let that dream repeat itself in real life, she did stop for a moment and look back from the gate. Only she looked back for another reason. She looked back to see if the cemetery had any similarity to the one that was in her dream. There was a resemblance, she thought, but it wasn't quite the same. The only similarity was that the tombstones that blossomed out of the cemetery in her dream were old. Just like those she looked upon now. Then she imagined what the cemetery would look like at night, shrouded with thick fog. The thought of it made chills run up and down her spine. She tried to chase the thoughts from her mind as she walked away from Juan's grasp, untied her horse, and climbed back in the saddle. Juan untied his horse, and was soon riding alongside of her, back across the road, and within a few minutes, they were back on the vast stretch of the Bar None.
"I'll show you how far the boundary goes down to the west," Juan told her. "It's quite a long ride, but we should be back to the ranch by sundown. Do you feel up to it?"
"Why not?" Cathy answered. "I haven't been on a horse for a long time and I feel great out here... better than I felt for a long time in my whole life. I may need a little practice, but if you can put up with me, I'll try and hold my own."
Juan smiled, understanding.
"I'll race you for about the next mile," she said.
"But Senorita," Juan interrupted, "you haven't ridden for quite some time."
"Try me," she shouted, kicking her horse in the flanks, letting him have the reins and taking off in a cloud of dust.
Juan sat there for a moment, leaning back in his saddle, knowing that even with a head start his sturdy steed could catch up with the roan, but he would do it gracefully and this slender young blonde girl was beginning to win him over. He had not quite expected somebody this nice, anybody this beautiful, somebody this sensible. She was all that his Uncle Manuel told him that she was. She was a helluva woman. And those last two words she said, excited his Latin blood. He would like to do that too. Then he thought of how his uncle used to describe her. La Senorita es muy bonita!
Juan thought so too. He kicked his horse in the flanks, and the shiny black mare tore off into the distance toward the cloud of dust that loomed ahead. A coyote whisked out of a gulley and ran like a grey puff of dust on the wind. His tongue was hanging out like a little red rag from the side of his mouth. Then he stopped, looked in the direction of the diminishing hoof-beats, and began walking slowly across the desert.
5
Late that afternoon, Cathy and Juan had ridden clear down the west line, crossed over the miles to the south and were virtually in the southeast sector when the sun began to dim its light upon them.
There was a small steam, and as they approached it, Cathy could hear the sound of rippling water. It wounded like the swishing of the soft deep sand through which they were riding. The sand that was so soft that it could be dug away with her own bare hands. They were both very thirsty, and although Juan had brought a canteen on his saddle, Cathy preferred the fresh, pure water of the stream.
They dismounted, led their tired horses to the stream, and let them drink. Then Cathy walked over, took off her hat, and began to dip her hands into the cold stream, bringing tiny cups of water in her palms against her face, which now felt refreshing and cool. Then she leaned down on her knees, leaned over, and making a cup out of one of her hands, began to drink from the stream. The water was as clear as gin, purified by miles and miles of running over various stones. It was probably better and more pure than any water in any city. Juan kneeled down beside her, dipped his hat in the stream, and drank from it, as Cathy watched.
"That's just like they do in the movies," Cathy smiled.
"But that's the way they do it out here too," Juan answered, then tipping the water from his hat all over his head and rubbing it in his hair and face, and the tiny drips of water formed upon his brow.
"I was only kidding, Juan," she said. "I would have done the same but I guess I'm just afraid to ruin my new hat."
"A new hat isn't broken in until it has been rained on a few times or has had water in it," Juan said. "I'll do it my way, you do it your way," she snapped back, a smile on her face.
Then Cathy stood up and looked around at the surroundings about her. She saw that the sun was slowly sinking in the west. And she thought that in this dead land, the only allegiance was to the sun. Even the night, she reasoned, was not strong enough to resist. And although the earth stretched out gracefully when night came, it had no hope that they would ever return. This is why the cactus around them hoarded the juice at their cores and were also secret about it. And as she looked around, against the amethyst shadows in the mountains, she saw little herds of deer coming toward the stream for their evening water. Then she saw a little roadrunner, taking long steps and always about to sprint, coming on down towards the stream, looking around quickly at every little noise, before dipping his beak into the water. As she watched, a few others followed, and waded out into the water, their long legs standing at the side of the stream. Then she suddenly realized that she was neglecting Juan. She quickly looked around to see him standing beside her, scanning his eyes over the horizon.
"What are you thinking, Juan?" she asked.
"I am thinking that as our horses drink from the stream, and we let them rest, it would be great to just jump into the water and swim."
"But we don't have any swimsuits," she said.
"I know," Juan answered. "I have never been down this way with girls before. And when you are with the workers on the range, and you feel like taking a good swim in these cool waters and getting rid of the dust on your body, it does not matter about swimsuits."
Cathy laughed, but found his suggestion quite exciting. In fact, it even gave her a funny sensation throughout her body as she gave it slight consideration. Suddenly she was aware that she was standing very close to Juan. They were looking into each other's eyes. She began to drop her head slightly, when she felt Juan lean forward, touching her lips lightly, putting his arms around her. Cathy was trembling and almost frozen to the point where she could not move. As one of Juan's hands ran down over her back, it slowly slipped forward, round her belly, coming to rest above her belt and letting his fingers slip inside and press against her navel. As he slowly rubbed the area, Cathy moved closer, and began pressing her lips against his. Cathy shivered violently. She shook her head wildly. Then she tried to break away, but Juan began kissing her on the neck, and suddenly she felt his fingers touch the opening between her legs that was now as wet as the stream before them.
Many thoughts were racing through her mind now. She remembered that she almost at times wanted to
spur off of sex completely and she was very successful because she was staying out of a lot of strange beds in recent years. But it, seemed also, with the passing of each day, she was becoming more miserable and less interested in what was going on around her. By ignoring her sexual impulses, it almost seemed to breed periods of depression for her. Greater periods of depression than she had ever known before. And there were many times she felt totally useless as a human being. As she felt there was no use in pursuing the charade. And then she knew that her withdrawal from sex was really not necessary. It was really not that bad. It was all in her mind. That was something that she had been fighting for a long time. And she only could crash through that barrier when somebody like Juan took her in his arms, like now, and was making her fever higher than what the noon temperature had been on the desert.
Cathy's lips trembled under his with the eagerness that was overwhelming. Almost with a frantic excitement that was catching, the fullness of his lips sent an edge of weakness rippling over her. And she found her body reacting quickly to his nearness. Now she was trembling under his power, his hands sliding over her back, his fingers tense, feeling their every move. And as she kissed him on the neck, she felt his throat move like flowing waves under her lips as another sigh poured past her parted lips. Then suddenly their lips met once more. The kiss was long, exploring, exciting. And as his fingers searched over her body, she began trembling even more, but softly responding to his every touch. Their tongues wildly jerked together. Juan ran his hands over the fullness of her, caressing the curve of her supple breast, squeezing her rigid nipples, and then sliding his strong arm down the narrow dip of her waist, against the smooth expanse of her stomach, and starting to unbutton the front of her jeans.
She looked up at him, fire flaming raw, passion overflowing and reaching out hungrily. Her throat pulsated and only the dim shadows of the afternoon made Juan able to watch it become a rapid throb as he started to take off her clothes.
Then she began unbuttoning his shirt, as he unbuttoned hers, and after the bra was snapped off, and he had pulled down her panties, they both kicked off their boots and hand in hand ran down to the bubbling stream and plunged their feverish bodies into the cool rippling waters.
They frolicked in the water, swam in the deep section from one bank to another, embraced each other in the middle of the stream, kissing each other violently and gently, bobbing in and out of the water like a cork, and then finally swimming back to shore. Cathy lay stretched out in the shallows of the water on her back, letting the cool stream run over the contours of her beautifully tanned body as Juan walked up to his horse, unleashed the bed roll, and brought down a blanket which he spread out along the edge of the stream. Then he walked back to the water, leaned down beside Cathy, and put his arms around her and they embraced. Her lips began running over his chest, and her hands began running over his back, tenderly, lovingly. Then as her lips pressed against his, she felt the probing dart of his tongue digging deep into her. It was as if she had been waiting for this for a long time. And now she could wait no longer. Her hand glided over his body, then guided his to the fullness of her breasts, down across her flat stomach, along the tapered shape of her thighs. And then her lips parted and she began swallowing and moaning slightly. And although they were lying in the cold water she felt as if she were being bathed in hot lava. Choked in the very flames of passion.
"I like being held by you, Juan," she murmured, fire burning in her eyes. "You make me feel more like a woman than I have ever felt before."
Then without waiting for an answer, she dug her nails into his back, almost clawing him like a wild animal, Juan responded by pulling her tightly against him, caressing the silken warmth of her body, and kissing the white flesh of her breasts.
"I think you are very beautiful, Senorita Cathy," Juan said, breathing deeply.
But Cathy only closed her eyes and wallowed in that dull ache that went through her loins when she felt that she would soon have what she really wanted. She delighted in feeling his heated chest pressing against her breast and his hands fumbling with her buttocks. Then she raised one leg, brushing it against his, almost trying to tell him with her body that she was ready. Then she felt his fingers slip under her thigh and slowly she felt his body inching its way into hers. Then she slipped her arms around his back, and pulled his weight atop her. Wildly, Juan plunged into her and hugged her as tight as he could.
Cathy let out a series of tiny moans, throwing her head back, her eyes half closed, as she felt his deep penetration pushing into her deeper and deeper.
Juan was now holding her tightly and on top of her in jackknife fashion, pushing deeper and deeper into her, and plunging in and out so fast that her body was trembling, shaking, and quaking the various sand and pebbles beneath them. Her breathing became heavier and deeper as she took great bites of air, gasping and moaning and crying out tiny screams of ecstasy. She was now arching her back up and down spasmodically, meeting his rhythm, rubbing herself almost in gyrations back and forth against his body, against the plunging, rearing, squeaking of his lips that were pushing her deeper and deeper into the sand.
The Cathy arched her back, practically raising Juan up in the air, and let out a stream of tiny screams, as her legs tightened, and her whole body strained, happily, uttering inaudible words, and then collapsing completely into the sand and water.
Juan, now in the peak of excitement, breathing heavier and heavier, grabbed her violently, and began pushing into her deeper, and deeper, and deeper until finally he grabbed her so hard that he almost lifted her off the ground, as he felt himself spurting into her, into the warm-ness of her body with such force that he had never known before with any other woman.
She looked up at him through half-closed lids, smiling happily. She watched him raise up from her, seeing the look in his eyes that told her that he hoped he had fulfilled her every desire. There was no reason for words at this time, because she was quite sure that he could tell from the look in her face, and the gleam in her eyes, that he had totally taken her, possessed her, and made her happy.
When she had completely regained her normal way of breathing, she raised up, and edged out into the water, and took a long, cold, swim. The cold water pushing against her feverish body, felt good, relaxing, and rewarding. Little did she dream that such an innocent little ride out from the ranch would have such a magnificent ending for the day. She swam around a little bit more, and then seeing that Juan had washed off completely, and was now getting dressed, she decided that she would swim back and get into her clothes. It was almost dark and they should be getting back to the ranch.
When she pulled herself out of the water, Juan met her with the blanket and dried her off completely, helping her dress and get back into her clothes. Then he kissed her on the lips gently, held her tightly, and in the distance she heard a coyote cry out into the night.
"I hope you are not angry with me, Senorita Cathy," Juan said, almost apologetically.
"You know better than that, Juan," she answered, assuringly. "You made me very happy. You unleashed a volcano within me that was ready to explode anytime... with anyone. I was secretly hoping that it might be with you."
Juan smiled back, happy with the words he heard. Then he slipped his arms down her back to her waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her gently on the lips. Then he pulled back, looked into her eyes, and saw the look of fulfillment in her pale green eves.
"I'm glad you feel that way," Juan said. "Sex is a strange thing. There are some women who want it so fast and so furiously. And then after they have it, they don't want the man at all."
Cathy looked at him with a slight smile on her face, knowing that he did not realize how close he was to knowing how she had felt about men all her life. Then she wondered if there ever would be another time with Juan. Surely, if he had anything to do with it, there would be. And he had made her extremely happy. Even though she was young, she had been to bed with a few men in her life that had maybe not turned her on like Juan had done just minutes before. And even though she had been very cordial with them afterwards, even fixed dinner for some of them, and even spent time with some of them later, it was only after they were gone that she felt that she never wanted to see them again. That feeling now began to creep within her body about Juan. But how could she avoid him? They both were living in the same house. And there was very little she would be able to do about not seeing him. And inevitably she would be forced to spend a lot of time with him to get the business matters of the ranch straightened out. They would have to work together on that alright. Although the feeling of repulsion was now slightly eroding the thoughts of her mind, Cathy tried not to show it as she smiled back to Juan, and suggested they best be heading back toward the ranch.
Juan walked down to the stream, and led up both of the horses that had wandered about a hundred feet away, standing knee deep in the water, and enjoying the coolness of the stream as they drank and cooled off. Juan handed the reins of the roan to Cathy, and she mounted her horse, and soon she and Juan were riding side by side down across the stream, toward the ranch a few miles in the distance.
The cold night air was now settling down upon the prairie. The sun dropped behind the mountain range and the shadows of darkness were upon them. Jackrabbits darted back and forth to the sides of them as their horses dug into the sand making tiny noises against the small rock, snapping with a brittle-type noise, as the air became filled with the songs of the nightbirds. For them, the day had come to a glorious end. But for the little insects, the other miniature animals of the desert, their day was just beginning.
6
Back at the ranch, Maria had a warm beef dinner already made and waiting for them. They were frozen steaks from the beef raised on the ranch. And as Cathy sunk her knife into the large steak on her plate, she remembered that the steaks she had eaten before on the ranch, at this same table, in all the past years, could not compare to some of the better restaurants that she had dined in throughout her life.
Juan sat across from her, his dark eyes sparkling, and Maria worked at her steak between getting up and down and adding things to the table.
"So how did you like your tour of the ranch this afternoon," Maria asked.
Cathy smiled, and cutting her steak, realized again that it had been one of the most wonderful tours of the ranch that she had ever had.
"It was simply wonderful," Cathy answered. "I never realized that we had so much land on the ranch."
"I did not get to show her everything," Juan interrupted. "It would be impossible to do on one day on a place of this size. But there will be other days when I will show her more."
"Maria, you must not believe what Juan tells you," Cathy said, with a glint in her eye. "He practically took me from one end of the range to the other. And believe me, after I take a hot shower tonight, I have a premonition that tomorrow I'm going to be feeling all the bouncing around that I did in the saddle today."
Juan smiled, slightly, as he absorbed almost a double meaning from her words, but did not answer. Instead, he cut off a piece of steak, pushed it in his mouth, and began chewing as Cathy and Maria talked back and
forth.
"Juan will have to show you the herds of cattle that we have too," Maria said. "And of course, after you get to know again the physical part of the ranch, I think you should get down to the paper work."
"I think you're right," Cathy answered, swallowing a piece of steak. "It all seems to come back to me now. Just being out there today, free s the wind; under the hot afternoon sun, nothing has really changed since I first came here as a little girl. And even though I've been here only one day, I feel like I want to stay forever."
"That would be nice," Maria said. "But first impressions sometimes are not always the right ones. But maybe you are right. You might be happier here than where you are living now."
"We visited Manuel's grave," Cathy said. "The cemetery seems so lonely and so desolate. The grass is burnt brown from the sun. And many of the tombstones have fallen to one side. It looks so unkept."
"You are right, Cathy," Maria answered. "It is quite an old cemetery. It is too bad somebody had not done something about it. But nobody ever has. And it has been there for a long time, Manuel used to go up there and straighten the stones. And so did some of the older people in the area. But now it seems that nobody really cares. Their relatives go up there almost ceremoniously, and put flowers on the graves. You would think they would try and take better care of the cemetery as a whole. But they don't."
"I think possibly we could send somebody from the ranch up there to tend to it and get it in better shape, couldn't we?" Cathy asked.
"That is a good idea," Maria said. "But I think possibly Juan should answer that question."
Cathy looked at Juan, waiting for an answer.
"You are right, Senorita Cathy," he replied. "It's a shame that the place is so run down. It is typical of many forgotten cemeteries. Even though they are still used occasionally, they are still forgotten. Except by those who have loved ones that are buried there. I'll get somebody from the ranch to go up and start doing some work on it and see if we can get it looking better. Especially since that is your wish."
"I think it is not only my wish," Cathy answered. "I think it would be the wish of Manuel and anybody else that is there with him."
"Cathy is right," Maria said. "There is no reason why this cemetery should be so run down. It is the only one within miles of here. And it is an eyesore. And I know how Manuel used to take pride in riding up there, straightening the stones, and putting flowers on graves of people that he had never even known."
"I noticed that there is not a stone for Manuel," Cathy said, "Do you have one ordered?"
Maria shook her head.
"We thought we should wait until you came out," Juan answered. "Naturally we intend to put something at
the head of his grave to mark the spot. But we felt that first you might want to do something special. Your
way."
"He will have a nice tombstone," she promised. "He will have one of the nicest ones in the whole cemetery."
Maria smiled, liking the understanding and sincerity of Cathy. Juan finished his steak, took a drink from his wine, and excused himself from the table. He had things to do before he went to bed. He put on his hat, bade them goodnight, and went out the door into the darkness. Maria sat there as Cathy finished her meal and sipped her wine.
"Incidentally, I forgot to tell you," Maria said, "Mr. Raines is having his annual barbecue over at his ranch this coming Saturday night. It's common custom for all the ranchers in the area to attend. I'm wondering if you would like to go?"
"Why not?" Cathy answered. "I think that would be an excellent opportunity to meet Mr. Raines and see what he is really like and to have an enjoyable evening out."
"You'll come to that conclusion very soon after you meet him," Maria warned.
"There's good in everybody," Cathy replied.
"And also, bad," Maria said, her words carrying a double meaning.
"In fact, I'll be delighted. Are we all invited?" Cathy asked.
"All of the ranch hands and ranchers around the territory look forward to Mr. Raines' affair each year," Maria answered. "And he does things up right too. He spares no expense in showing his neighbors what a good party he can throw."
"Sounds like Mr. Raines isn't as bad as you make him out to be," Cathy said.
Marie said: "He's running a business and there are certain things he has to do. Maybe he doesn't like to do them. But they have to be done. But after you meet him, Cathy, you can judge for yourself." "Thank you, Maria," she answered. "I'm getting sleepy."
"This high altitude and your ride this afternoon has been a little tiring for you," Maria said. "But you will sleep well tonight, believe me."
"Oh, I know I will," Cathy sighed, yawning.
She complimented Maria on the fine dinner, helped her with the dishes, and then bade her goodnight. Juan had not come back yet. He was still outside somewhere finishing his work, late into the night. Then Cathy went to her room, and after taking a warm shower, climbed into bed, and looked out into the night and watched the moon in the distance.
Later that night, lying alone in bed in her room, Cathy reviewed the day. She thought about riding to the far west of the range, going into the cemetery with Juan to see Manuel's grave, and then the long ride down the line fence that led them to the spring that carried them all the way south along their line to the far southwest corner of their ranch. She had never dreamed that there would be such an exciting afternoon ahead for her as she rode away from the corral that day. What Juan had done for her was like an experience out of one of her wildest dreams. She ran her hands down over her thighs now, trying to press out the goose pimples that were forming upon her legs. What a sensation it had been for her that afternoon at the stream. She could almost feel Juan's eyes upon her now. And she wondered tonight what Juan was thinking?
Cathy knew that he was all man. And that he would probably want her more. And she knew that without conceit it was highly improbable that any man who had her once, would not want her again. Yet, in her mind that night, there was the feeling of guilt and shame. Even a feeling of being afraid of sex. That's why she had tried to keep control of herself back at the university.
There were many fellows at the university who wanted her. But she knew that if she had an affair with any one of them, the word would spread, and it would damage her reputation, and then where would she be? Maybe her reasoning was irrational, but she felt it was rather factual, sensible. But now that feeling which had been with her most of her life, was seeping back into her brain, putting all thoughts of Juan out of her mind. She was somewhat pleased that Juan had left the dinner table earlier that evening to go out and finish his work. She wondered whether he might have felt the same way. But she felt somewhat embarrassed to sit there and face him through dinner. Even though she tried her best, she felt quite certain that her mannerisms betrayed her. She was quite sure that when Juan looked at her, the way he did, that he saw a look of guilt
within her eyes. And even though she felt this way herself, felt the guilt and shame that had plagued her since a child, she had not wanted to be obvious to others. And she had hoped she had done her best to conceal it.
Then she began to think about Juan. How could she avoid being with him again'? It was virtually impossible. She had traces of this fear running through her mind as they rode back to the ranch that evening. She even thought it as she took the long, refreshing swim after they had made love on the shore of the winding stream. She had thought about it when she had looked at him across the dinner table. How could she say "no" to a man that she was going to spend most of the summer with in the same house? She made her decision. A decision that she would rest on firm. She would see Juan on business. She would talk with him. But there would be no further sex. She did not want to experience the torture that she was enduring now. The torture of mental anguish that resulted in the depressed feeling of guilt and shame. And like a little girl, shame for what she had done, and being reprimanded by a parent, Cathy had taken on that same paradox of guilt. She had reprimanded herself by her own actions. But she promised herself that those actions would never take place again. Especially with Juan.
Then she stretched out, laying back on the mattress grinning. Although sleep would not come right away, she felt very tired and much better than she had for a long while. She closed her eyes and began to recap, once more, what had happened. She tried to analyze the whole thing. There was one very memorable thought. She had reached almost the ultimate in an orgasm, more than any other time throughout her entire life. Barely thinking about Juan, holding her, kissing, and biting her breasts, excited her tremendously. She squirmed a little bit on the bed as the excitement raced through her loins. She extended one hand up from her thigh and across the area between her legs which was now getting moist from the thoughts. There was a slight itching and a sting. And with her other hand, she began to finger her breast and, as she did so, she discovered that the nipples were now exquisitely sensitive and hard. She grabbed her one breast, completely filling her hand, and then slid her hand across to the other side, cupping the other one gently. She was getting very excited now. The thoughts of that sexual experience in the afternoon with Juan could not be chased from her mind regardless of the shameful and guilty feelings that tried to form the barrier. As she touched herself, the familiar tensions built slowly, along the ribbons of her nerves, giving her exciting feelings of sensation upon sensation. She could feel the echoes of these sensations throughout her entire body. And as she began to manipulate her fingers between her legs, making the area now wetter than ever before, while with the other hand playing with her breasts, teasing the nipples with her fingers, she knew that she was preparing her body for a nerve-smashing explosion that was ready to erupt from within her.
Then, as the tension grew within her, and as her breathing began to increase in the gasping of air, she felt the same explosion erupt within her now that had pushed forth with Juan that same afternoon. She arched her body up high, pressed her hand between her legs until it almost hurt, and then with one giant sigh of relief, sank back into bed, gasping for breath. Just thinking about what had happened that afternoon had caused her to reach another climax. She lay there, her mouth open, breathing in the cold air of the night, deeper and deeper into her lungs, until finally her panting slowed down and her breathing returned to normal. Then she turned over on her side, pulled the sheets up around her neck, feeling their coolness against her flesh. A smile of satisfaction was now on her lips, as she now again, stared out the window at the moon above. Until that night Cathy hadn't thought it could be possible to enjoy sex to such a full extent. Although her back was slightly paining, and her nipples were aching, and her breasts were still swollen, it was all a good feeling. Even though she felt somewhat shameful in letting Juan take her so easily that afternoon, the thoughts were soon erased from her mind by just thinking about what had just happened. The experience had such a profound effect upon her that the mere thought of their being together at the stream induced her to have another orgasm in bed tonight. She was now tired. In fact, she was sleepy. She closed her eyes, slowly, realizing that one desire could conquer another. And she further realized that it might be about time that she tried to chase the guilt and shame out of her thinking. It would be hard. But maybe Juan would be the one who could help her do that. He could, he could help her become the woman she really wanted to be. But as she drifted off into her dreams, she decided that what would take place in the future would happen spontaneously. And although she had first gone to bed, her mind drenched in shame and guilt of what she had allowed herself to do that afternoon with Juan, her later actions of self-gratification, came before any doubts or evil thoughts that fell upon her. She soon fell asleep and the whole thing was forgotten. At least for that night.
Drifting off into the sub-conscious plateau of sleep, she wondered if she would even get started on writing her psychology thesis for her degree. Her mind was confused with things to come and as the realm of sleep invaded her mind, she soon found herself drifting and drifting further away from the world of reality into a world of dreams and fantasies.
7
Before long, Saturday had rolled around before Cathy had realized it. During the last couple of days, Juan had shown her around the rest of the ranch, explained how the stream which fed the vast herd of cattle ran from Raines' place down to theirs, forming the boundary to the south. Water was an important element out here in the west. Especially this time of the year. Especially when things had been so dry all summer. And the little stream, which had faithfully fed down from the mountains for possibly centuries, also took its toll dwindling down to less than what most ranchers expected. Juan had told her that it was thought that Raines considered building a dam across the stream so that he would have a ready reservoir in case the little stream did not feed as rapidly as it had in past years. Cathy had protested to such an idea, stating that it was not fair to the rest of the ranchers. It wasn't even fair to her or the cattle on her property. And after all, they did own the largest ranch. But Juan also reminded her that the stream first came through Raines' place and then passed on through the Bar None. She could do virtually the same thing if she wanted, Juan told her. Then that would set off a chain reaction to the property on the east, running through Raines' acreage, and worst of all, affecting all the little ranches down stream that depended upon this rippling stream for their source of water.
"I don't think it's a bit fair at all," Cathy told Juan. "If Raines plans to build a dam, then he's going to have all the ranchers in this area up on him. And I'll be the first to organize the group."
"There's no use in getting excited about it now," Juan told her. "It's only talk. And so far he hasn't done it. But if he starts, everybody in the valley will know. Including you."
She looked Juan in the eyes, knew that he was truthful in what he was telling her, and she trusted his judgment. Possibly it would be better to wait. Not to jump the gun and make a fool of herself. And there would be water enough for everybody, like there always was in years in the past. If no interference would be taken by Raines. Maybe he was the shrewd, cunning man that she had heard so much about. However, she looked forward to the barbecue that night at Raines' place and the opportunity to meet him.
Although she had not checked the books pertaining to the ranch completely, Juan had given her a briefing of the notes that Manuel had left behind and had acquainted her with the correspondence that was kept on a monthly basis relating to the sale of cattle, various expenditures, payrolls, and other information entered into various ledgers and contained in other ledgers and other documents. Of course, there was also the sheets of papers where Manuel had promised to pay twenty-five thousand dollars to the Territorial National Bank by the end of August based upon the money he was to receive from the sale of steers to the market. This amount of money received annually, always excelled twenty-five thousand dollars by quite a figure. But as a secondary collaterally, Manuel was confident enough to pledge the ranch. This was strictly a banking procedure to insure them of their money. The ranch was free and clear, and in itself, was worth many times that amount. However, as Cathy read the legal-sized papers, she also realized that there was no way possible for her to come up with twenty-five thousand dollars cash if anything went wrong regarding the sale of cattle in August. And as she glanced at the calendar, she saw that August was not too far away. By the time the roundup would take place, and the cattle would be driven down into the corral, and then counted and driven out to the railroad some miles away, she knew that they would lose hundreds of pounds of weight in the ordeal of the hot desert summer. But she also knew that once it was done, she knew it would be, with Juan's confident help, she could walk into the bank and give Mr. Raines his money and walk out with a free and clear conscience. And also, a free and clear ranch. This is what she wanted to do. This is what she had to do. This is what she would do.
That night, Juan drove Cathy over to the Frederick Raines' ranch. Maria sat in the back seat, commenting on various landmarks from time to time, until they finally pulled up in front of the large impressive ranch with a guard posted at the gate. Recognizing their car, he waved them through and Juan drove on down another half mile until another attendant with a flashlight waved the car to the left of the road and over to an area in the field that was blocked off to take care of about a hundred cars.
Then they got out, and walked up a few hundred yards to the outside gathering, back of the ranch, of which possibly 150 people had crowded around. Many of them were clustered in little groups, telling stories, shaking hands, renewing old acquaintances, while they enjoyed both food and drink. In back of all of this, a huge steer
was being turned on a mammoth barbecue by two wiry cowboys, one on each end of the tender. The smell of the beef filled the air with a sweet, delicious aroma. There were a few servants walking back and forth, carrying trays of drinks. Near the entrance of the ranchhouse, was a large bar set up with an awning top upon it resembling the red and white stripes of a circus side show. As Cathy watched all of this, and saw the various people going to and fro, drinking, eating, and chattering in what sounded like the noise of monkeys in trees at the zoo, she asked Juan if they should possibly walk up to their host and thank him for inviting them. Juan thought that was a good idea. He looked around the crowd, his eyes narrowing, until he saw a tall grey-haired man, with a white mustache, talking to several older women. That was Frederick Raines.
They pushed their way through the people, and after several minutes they came to a clearing. A waiter politely offered them a drink. The tray he held was filled with several crystal-stemmed glasses of bubbling pink champagne. Juan took one, handed it to Cathy, and then handed a second one to Maria. Then taking one for himself, he nodded thanks to the waiter and they stood there sipping their champagne, before walking on to greet their host.
"The gentleman over there," Juan nodded, "is Frederick Raines."
Cathy studied him as she toyed with the glass of champagne in her hand, sipping it from time to time. Raines was a tall, gaunt man with a drawn face, tanned from wind and sun, whose chin fell into a series of creases everytime he flashed his toothy smile. His hair was all grey, matching his mustache.
Juan led the way to the tall, wealthy land owner and banker that stood before them, holding a drink in one hand, talking freely with the people about him. When his eyes fell upon Juan, he outstretched a hand, and shook Juan's hand vigorously, telling him that he was very glad that he could make the occasion. Then he saw Maria, nodded accordingly, and welcomed her too. Then Juan brought Cathy over and as she stood before him, looking into his face as if she were studying the face of a statue, she smiled pleasantly. Raines smiled back, being very cordial, and nodded to her.
"This is Cathy Williams, Mr. Raines," Juan said introducing them.
Cathy smiled at the tall man in front of her.
Raines looked at her for a few seconds, and there seemed to be a strangeness of silence, as he took a drink, extended out his right hand, and they shook hands.
"I guess I should welcome my next door neighbor," Raines said. "I've been hearing a lot about you, but I don't believe we've met before, have we?"
"No," Cathy said, shaking her head. "But I hope all you have heard has been good."
"You don't hear much bad about anybody in these parts, Miss Williams," he said in a drawn voice. "All I know is that you're the legal owner of the Bar None ranch, and being about the biggest one around this territory, people usually try to find out some information as to who the owners are."
"Did you know my father?" she asked.
"No," Raines said, shaking his head. "He was a little more active out here before my time. You see, I was just a man like your father, who decided that he'd like to have a ranch and get into a little business out here in the west. And when I finally disposed of my holdings in the east, I decided to move on out here and make this place home. And I don't think I made a bad decision."
"I agree," Cathy said. "This is a beautiful place to live."
"Will you be staying long?" he asked.
"That all depends," Cathy answered. "As you know, Manuel left a few things to be taken care of. That's primarily why I'm here. I hope to finish up the details and get things back running smoothly as soon as possible."
"That's quite an undertaking for a lady, isn't it?" Raines said.
"I don't think so," Cathy smiled. "I think that running any business, even a ranch, is merely good business. Besides, I have enough competent people who worked under my father and also Manuel, and I am sure that they will try and guide me so I won't make any mistakes."
"You got a point there, young lady," Raines said, taking another drink. "You'll do all right. They have their good seasons and bad seasons down here just like businesses have their good years and bad years. And we have to face them out here. If there's anything I can ever do for you, you can find me here at the ranch or down at my office at the bank."
"I thank you very much for your invitation, Mr. Raines," Cathy said, "but right now there is nothing anybody can do but myself, I am picking up the pieces where Manuel left off. And the next time we meet, I hope it will be in your bank. Especially about roundup time."
There was a strange glint from Raines's eyes as he digested that answer. Then he smiled, looked at her admiringly, and told her that she didn't have to stay away that long. She would be welcome to come down to town anytime to have lunch with him, and get to know some of the people. After all, if she was going to be part of the territory, she should get to know a few more of the people. And he was quite certain that she would like them. And he didn't see any reason why she would not like them.
"Now I think you'd better get over there in line and wet your whistle a little more, and then try some of that good beef. Raised it right here on these acres. And it really smells good, doesn't it?"
They all nodded. Then Cathy thanked Mr. Raines for his courtesy, for inviting them to the annual barbecue and then they walked away as the other people began to press their way through to talk to this very important man in the community. Raines's eyes trailed Cathy as she walked away with Juan and Maria, and finally when she had disappeared from view, through the trees and into the people, he then suddenly realized that other people were asking him questions that he didn't hear.
The barbecue was extremely good. They enjoyed the big slab of full one-inch steaks that were cut off the steer and all of the accompanying dishes that had been fixed to go along with it. It was such a magnificent dinner. Champagne was flowing rampant. And Cathy sat there at a large picnic table, one of many that were scattered throughout the area, and met various people in the area which Juan introduced her to, as she pursued her meal, and just enjoyed herself tremendously. It was a very nice function. Everybody was very pleasant, and there were people there obviously that represented great wealth and large ranches all the way down to some of the poor Mexicans that were laborers that probably did not own anything more than the shirt on their backs. And as she watched from her vantage point of view from the table, she saw that Mr. Raines seemed to make them all feel quite comfortable and at home. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. She knew what it was like to be involved in business. She had learned that from her father as a small child. And she knew thatin spite of how well you knew somebody, in spite of any previous connections. That when contracts were written and money loaned, it had to be paid back. What people did in their social life was only one side of the fence. The business, unfortunately, was on the other side of the fence. Tonight, she was on the social side of the fence for a change. It was only that other side that really bothered her subconsciously. But she was quite sure that it soon would take care of itself.
Later that night, Cathy walked up to Mr. Raines, thanked him graciously for extending his invitation to her and assured him that they would be seeing each other soon. Raines bade good night to Juan and Maria, and in doing so, expressed to Cathy his sorrow about Manuel. He said that, in his opinion, Manuel was one of the most capable men to run a ranch in the territory. He had often wished that he could have such a man on his place. Manuel would be greatly missed. For he was a great person. And a hard worker. A worker dedicated to making the Bar None the best in the territory. And Raines did not deny this at all. Cathy was quite surprised by his words of eulogy, his words of sentimentality, and what she gathered to be his sincerity. She hoped that she was not wrong, as she again thanked him, and they left. When they got back to their own ranch, Cathy was not really tired at all. Maria, having had a little too much champagne, her eyes drooping, excused herself for bed. She was not used to this type of night life, Cathy gathered. It had been one glorious, wonderful, gathering. It couldn't be compared to some of the functions held in glamorous homes, where well-groomed servants served food and drink, and where swimming parties were prominent. It had the real down to earth homey atmosphere that seemed to reach down to the grass roots of her body. It was a genuine old fashioned, ranch barbecue. And as they say in the west, it was quite neighborly.
"What did you think of Mr. Raines?" Juan asked as they stood out near the corral, back of the ranch.
"I don't think he's as bad as people say he is," Cathy answered, leaning against the top rail.
"There's an old saying, Senorita Cathy, that you never should judge a book by its cover," he answered.
"But you have to admit, Juan," she replied, "that running a ranch is as much a business as running a bank. If the cattle don't get to market, you don't make the money. If the people don't repay their debts to the bank, the bank can't make any more loans. And if either one of these would happen to these businesses, they would be out of business. Doesn't that sound logical to you?"
"Yes, it is logical and it is the truth," Juan agreed, "but even using the legal points of the law, there are certain things that a man in Raines' position can do, things that he could help with more, before he takes such drastic action."
"Such as what?" Cathy asked.
"A few of the ranches that he took over, he did not even grant them an extension when they had agreed to pay the interest for another six months," he told her.
"That is his prerogative," Cathy answered. "Even though it may seen cruel."
"When the other banker was in charge of the money, before Raines came into the picture, there was never this problem," he told her. "It was all very simple. If a man needed more time, he always got it. And everybody liked the old banker. Nobody likes Raines."
"One thing you'll have to learn, Juan," she said, "is that the old has to move away and make room for the new. The old banker, unfortunately, is gone. The way he operated is the way they used to operate in the old West. He would take a man on his word, understand his hardships, and probably even stick his own neck out to the bank, to hope that the man would come through. He believed in men possibly more than Raines. But today, there's a whole new breed. Even though Raines is an older man himself, he probably grew up with a very strict business background in the East, and he's exercising that same formula down here. And in doing so, he is naturally exercising it in such a way to benefit himself. And this is not only unfortunate, it is sad. But one thing you must remember, Juan, what he is doing is legal. It is not against the law."
"We do share different opinions about Mr. Raines, unfortunately," Juan told her sadly. "I hope you don't mind my not agreeing with you."
"If you agreed with me all the time, I wouldn't have any respect for you," she said, looking into his eyes.
Cathy had other things to say. Juan watched her closely. His dark, sparkling eyes followed the movement of her lips as she spoke out words in an endless flow. She talked about the possibility of Raines damming up the stream. Then discarding that from her mind, she switched over to the round up which was forth coming. She tried to have Juan assure her that nothing would go wrong. Juan assured her that nothing had gone wrong for years. And why should it now?
Juan thought she looked extremely marvelous that evening. A full moon fell down on her rich blond hair that had been fluffed and brushed, resembling a mass of gold. She wore very little make-up, and the contrast between her gold hair and her tanned skin tone, was most striking. And she possessed a radiance about her that began to excite him all over again.
Juan looked into her eyes. She was feeling good from the effects of the champagne. She was now more talkative, more exuberant, more outgoing than she had been that first time he had seen her at the airport. As she talked, she tilted her head back from time to time and the brisk wind blew her long blond hair across her forehead. As Juan watched, gazing into her eyes he realized that there was a certain mass of apprehension behind the mask of her face. Because he saw that when he had first kissed her. And he well knew the exquisite torture of the desire that she had within her. After she had finished talking, and there was only the sound of the night birds, and that of a coyote in the distance, Juan suggested that they take a walk around the place. Cathy thought that that would be a good idea.
Juan put his arm around her, and they walked around the corral, as he told her about the many mustangs they had driven down from the mountains, in past years, and how on different occasions, he had come up to visit his Uncle Manuel and helped break them. Then he told her about some of the great cattle drives years ago, before the railroad spur was in, days like the old West when they had to drive the cattle for miles and miles to the nearest railroad. He told her a little about ranch life. Things which she did not know, but things which he felt would be important to her. But that night, for some reason, as businesslike as she was in the beginning, she began to be more carefree and easy going. She had said what she had wanted to say. And now that she had said it, she was glad. Now she was as relaxed and carefree as the cool breezes of the night that blew about them. They walked out to the barn, opened the door, and Juan put on a faint bulb that dangled from a single cord high above. The bright light bulb could have illuminated a small room without any problem. But it looked so dim as it hung high in the large barn, looking down over the different stalls where the horses were kept, that it seemed only a few shades brighter than the moon outside.
Cathy saw the roan, walked over to it, and the horse whinnied slightly, and put his head across the gate,
and she cuddled it against her shoulder. Juan stood by, watching her with great affection, as she stroked the mane of the horse, knowing that they had become fast friends. Then they walked down past several other stalls, stopping from time to time, as Cathy patted the horses on the head, until they were at the end of the corridor, that led to a set of large double doors opening to the fields beyond. The doors were shut and blocking them as if like a garage. Huge bales of hay, dozens of them, piled high on either side, while several bales were open with the crisp, yellow hay piled three to four feet high in front of them. It was convenient for the ranch hands to use the pitch forks and fill the feed stalls. They stood together, looking back down the long corridor they had come from, talking about the beautiful horses, and making small talk. Though the years, the door, sturdily built out of heavy boards, hung from old rusty hinges.
Cathy caught herself off guard, gazing around as if daydreaming, and then turned to look up into Juan's eyes with dumb amazement. In the faint light glimmering down from above, her face looked ashen and inviting. Juan reached out, took her trembling hand, which was cold, and pulled her to him. A shock of passion flashed through her as she tried to resist going to him. When he tried to kiss her, she rolled her head back and forth, trying to avoid the whole thing. Juan only pulled her closer, wrapped his one arm around her, and pressing the other one against one of her firm breasts, kissed her. Her response, at first, in those beginning seconds, was not receptive at all. Then her mouth opened, her lips parted, and her indecision had subsided for her innermost desires. Juan's hand explored the proportions of her breast, now solid and firm, as she explored him with tingling palms and excited fingers. Then she threw her arms around him, and her mouth became a miracle of movement as it pressed against his lips, and then excitedly she ran her tongue down the side of his face and around his neck. And then back against his lips. She felt a feeling of unsteadiness about her from the manly scent of Juan's hair and body, which now seemed to give out the aroma that excited her so much.
He took her by the hand, and fell down into the sprawling hay, pulling her with him. They rolled over and over on each other until they were at an area where several large bales of hay threw a shadow down upon them, completely taking away the dim light that was filtering down from above. Juan unbuttoned her blouse, and was excited not to find a bra, and he plunged his head downward, kissing the contour of her firm upright breasts. Then he unzipped her pants and found that she wore no panties that night, and before he had completed pulling them off, she had kicked off her boots and lay there completely nude, waiting for him. He ran his hands over the rounded and protruding buttocks, across her firm thighs, as she lay there motionless, pulsating and thrusting her body back and forth as she reached down and felt the hard lump between Juan's
legs.
Then she quickly began to pull Juan's clothes from him, almost tearing them, and almost instantly, he was completely nude, pressing his body against her, kissing her on the lips, massaging her whole body with his hands, and pressing himself against that moist spot between her legs. Her breathing increased, and her head rolled back from side to side, her lids closing, almost shut, as she begged him to love her completely.
She was almost animalistic in the energy she expelled and the frenzy of her attack upon Juan, grabbing him furiously, pulling him to her, and digging her nails into his back and into his buttocks until she felt tiny wet streaks of blood coming from the ecstasy that poured from within her. As Juan kissed her, running his tongue all over her firm breasts, playing with her pink nipples which were now reaching upwards, he began to rub the flat of her stomach, and her whole pelvic region began rotating in a circular motion that made him fall upon her, and enter her gently, inch by inch, until he felt that he was in her so far that it would drive him from his mind. Then she began arching her back, up and down, as he began moving in and out of her faster and faster, and their rhythm began to match their movements, and their breathing became more excessive as the minutes passed.
Juan felt the moist warmth of her mouth pressing against his. Her tongue massaging the sensitivity of his tongue in rapid circular motions, as she pushed it in and out of his mouth, biting his lips from time to time as he loved her now, faster and faster. Then she began throwing her body hard against him, locking her arms around him, pulling him furiously against her, enjoying the large organ throb hotly within her, as Juan moved his hands over her smooth warm flesh, as the passion rose through both of their bodies, and their breathing soared.
Juan was grabbing her lovely warm breasts, excitingly and tightly, and she felt as if she were about to explode at any moment. The flaming pressure of passion was about to erupt inside of her, as Juan pushed her
deeper and deeper into the hay, and she felt the burning lust striving to let him know that he had made her so happy. Then with a great suddenness and an exquisite spasmodic shaking of her body, she grabbed him violently, threw her pelvis into him, as she felt the warmness of his juices flashing into her, and she plunged her tongue into his mouth, twisting it, and writhing her body in excitement as she reached the ultimate goal. They had reached it together. It was an experience that no other man had given her.
For a moment their naked bodies were welded into one, as they lay there clutching each other tightly, in a long embrace. They were both breathing heavy, almost panting like a tired dog wanting water, now lying side by side, facing each other on the straw bed. They were completely oblivious to everything around them.
After several minutes, when their breathing returned to normal, and they were returned to awareness, which came over them, Cathy was now obsessed in the realization of what had happened. It seemed that the wondrous experience that she had endured had almost petrified her muscles. Even her brain. She lay there almost unable to move, wondering if possibly she were dreaming or maybe just quietly going insane. But then she thought, whatever it might be, what a wonderful way to go.
"Thank you, Juan," she whispered. "I think you're trying to make a real woman of me."
Juan looked at her, kissed her lightly on the lips, and gently took his fingers and brushed her hair back on her shoulders. He wasn't quite sure what she meant. But he had a feeling that maybe no other man had treated her the way she wanted to be treated. And he knew that although he was not a connoisseur of many women, he was aware of a woman's feelings. He was quite sure that she possessed a certain fear about sex. He saw the look of unbelievable wantonness in her eyes. There was a strange expression on her face. Her lips were slightly quivering and her eyes were wide and sparkling and she smiled back at him.
They were both absolutely exhausted and their loins both ached from the frantic lovemaking that had taken place and which had lasted for almost half an hour. And when it had been over, they had both gone completely limp, almost sinking away into that feeling of having spent all of your energies in the field of passion.
That night, when she jumped into bed, and pulled the covers up around her neck, she fell into a grateful, deep dreaming sleep, realizing that she at last was finding a cure for the problem that had been with her most of her life. Maybe it was because she was so tired, spent, and exhausted. And even though there was a slight feeling of guilt and shame within her, it was less than the other times. Yes, she thought, maybe it was because she was so tired that she could hardly think. And that was good. Because she twisted her body into a comfortable position, laid her head against the soft pillow, and soon was fast asleep with a smile on her face.
However, smiles like that had not come easy for Cathy in the past. There were many times that she had fallen asleep with tears running down over her cheeks. Tears of torment, caused by the remorse and disgrace. Maybe it was these feelings that were now slowly fading away. She needed the confidence to smile more. Even in her sleep.
8
Now Cathy was becoming even more indulgent in her dreams. And her dreams were taking shape, coming into being, much plainer than before. She was becoming more daring, more challenging, and more open about sex than she had ever been in any of her wildest dreams. Her dreams were now almost becoming an obsession. And she realized that the beauty of dreams is what guarded her from the disgrace of real life. And it was the same beauty that made her afraid, filled her with the feelings of guilt and shame, which she could only find a remedy to through her dreams in the continual advancement of her mind. And she fully realized that there was no other happy achievement than making love and no other sign of happiness than beauty.
In her own sane mind, as well as in her wildest dreams, she craved to be possessed by one man. A craving to fill her appetite of love for an eternity through many trips of passions. She knew that the law of passion was based upon reason. Not upon fear. Or the feeling of guilt or shame. It was built upon the fulfillment of enjoying life and sex together. She knew that although she had triumph over sex in her dreams, she was now trying to do it in her conscious state, trying to overcome that mental block which was pure absurdity.
Then her mind, like the soft breezes, began wandering about into the outer spaces of the sub-conscious. It was now starting to take her completely again into a world of sheer delight. Into a world in which there would be no guilt or shame. Into a world that had actually satisfied her sexually so many times before. A world that she had enjoyed tremendously. And she still looked forward to adventures in these unknown places. And now she felt her body being limp, almost cloud-like, and floating until she felt almost weightless. And then suddenly, as if out of nowhere, she found herself lying on a full wide bed, being held by a man, running his fingers through her hair, as she watched him with her eyes.
She did not recognize his face. He was a complete stranger. And in her dream the feelings were there, over any other physical description of a man that she was in bed with. And the man reached out, slipped his hand between her legs, and began massaging her thighs. Cathy eased her legs apart, and she began to breath a little harder, as she permitted his hand to move closer up to where her legs met.
"Please don't stop," she begged, softly. "It feels so good. Please don't stop."
She threw back her head as the man gently massaged her stomach, running his fingers up and down between her legs, and touching his lips to her inner thighs, and then dropping his head down to that warm, moist spot that welcomed his lips.
Cathy trembled as she stretched out on the bed, touching his head with her arms, her eyes shut, her fingers running through his hair. And then, as his head began swirling in circular directions, his hands began to run up and down over her thighs, until she was in complete ecstasy with the pleasure that was throbbing between her lions.
"You will love me all night, won't you?" she asked. "Please tell me that you won't stop."
The man did not answer. Instead, he slowly began to take possession of her, as she wiggled into comfortable positions, making it easy for him.
The exploration of his tongue excited her to such an extent that her body shook convulsively from time to time, and she became more excited than she had ever been, and finally she pulled her hands from his hair, and began softly massaging her breasts and playing with the tips of her nipples until they had become hardened. He stirred her greatly as he kissed her, swirling his head in gyrations, grabbing her thighs. She was experiencing a sexual flight that seemed to make her feel as if she were drifting into space.
After several moments, Cathy arched herself forward, reaching a climax, and then a few minutes later, as the man continued to love her in the same manner, she reached another. She finally was so exhausted, breathing so heavily, that she was virtually too limp to even move.
When it was over, she fell into his arms, hugged him tightly, and rolled over in bed, holding him, pressing her breasts deeply into his chest, exhaling violently, trying to ward off the flames of passion that had stirred within her and had now erupted twice in succession like an impatient volcano. And the hot sweat of their two bodies, poured down upon them in dripping fluids of perspiration, almost like the hot lava that expelled from their volcanic actions.
Then for some reason, a few tears began streaming down her cheek. The man asked her what was wrong.
She told him that she did not know. But he knew something was the matter.
"I feel very guilty," she told him, almost choking. "I feel I have done something I should not have done. And as much as I wanted to do it in the beginning, and as much as I enjoyed it, it is now the time that I have to face the feeling of guilt and the veil of shame."
"You shouldn't feel that way," the man told her. 'You can't go on that way through life."
Cathy shook her head, trying to stop crying.
"You're a beautiful, growing woman," he told her. "Love is a wonderful thing. Sex is even greater. The two of them go together. And you have to face up to things. If you are afraid in your dreams, you must be even more apprehensive when you are awake."
Cathy knew that what the man had said was true. But then it was such a strange feeling for her to feel like this in a dream. It seemed like everything was in reverse. She had never felt like this before in a dream. Or was the dream an omen?
"I hope I didn't tell you anything I should not have said," the man added, "but somebody must tell you. And you have probably not told anybody about your problem. But I can tell how you feel by looking at you."
She knew that he was right. He was looking into her face, almost reading her like a book. But the strange thing about it was, that although he was looking at her so infinitely, she could not quite distinguish what his face really looked like. She did not know who he was. Whoever he was, he was right. Even in her dream, she reasoned this.
The clock in the room was ticking loudly. It was a noise that one would not really hear unless you extended your ears and tuned in to room level. And Cathy lay there, tossing and turning, slowly opening her eyes, and then hearing the loud ticking of the clock, the only noise in the room, her eyes began to ease open.
Almost like coming out of a nightmare, she raised up in bed, and felt cold chills running up and down her spine, as she vividly recalled the experience in her dream. She sat there almost frozen, recalling almost every word, almost every move, and as she ran her hand down against the flat of her stomach, her body suddenly became alive with the little vibrations, like several vibrant nerves. Her hands slid down to the gap that bordered the flesh between her legs, and she caressed her skin until her hand came to rest there, and she could feel her heart beat, as she pressed her hand against the pink flesh. Her fingers were trembling and suddenly she arched back and let out a slight moan. Her thighs opened quickly, and then closed just as quickly again, imprisoning her fingers. Then she leaned back, her heart beating faster, and tried to regain her breathing as she opened her eyes and looked around the room.
Cathy was not only sexually satisfied in her dream, but also upon her awakening. And she felt good being aroused by the thought of this pleasure. She was so captivated by the dream that she had almost forgotten where she was. And then she thought how exciting it would have been to have Juan inside her at that time.
Then she glanced out the window, her breathing returning to normal, and she saw the first light of dawn falling upon her bed. Although the night had been restless, and her dream had been exciting, even her awakening, she wanted to go back to sleep. She tried to relax. Sleep did not come too easily to some people, but especially her after moments like this. But she closed her eyes, and tried to relax. The pale morning sun was now filtering through the window, falling upon Cathy's closed eyes. She yawned slightly, turned over, pressed her head into the pillow, and then found the darkness of sleep that presently led her into a deep slumber. As the morning breezes rustled the curtains, only the ticking of the clock could be heard. And Cathy was now enjoying that realm of sleep.
Cathy had dreams like this one in the many nights to come throughout the summer. They had been exciting and each one like a new adventure. Her dreams had inspired her sex life. Because what happened with the subconscious, latently developed with the conscious. She had been with Juan from time to time. He had showed her everything there was to know about the ranch. He had completely brainwashed her to such an extent that she knew almost as much about the ranch as Manuel. She knew the terrain by now, she knew the problems, she knew how much it meant to get the cattle to market, and day by day, and more by more, she began to realize the importance of running a ranch. There were so many factors that turned into this whirlpool of thoughts, that she decided to temporarily put aside her pursuing the completion of the paper for her degree. There was much too much to be done now. Juan agreed to stay on with her, and Maria remained as a faithful servant, friend, and cook; they had now formed a team. And Cathy was the captain. She had won favor and
respect of the old ranch hands, men who had been with the Bar None for many years, and men who agreed to stay with her through thick or thin, agreed to help her get the cattle to market. With Juan at the helm, and Cathy beside him, there was no reason why they would not be able to bring the cattle down from the fall roundup, drive them over to the railroad spur, get them loaded, and pick up a nice fat check and pay off the bank.
In her thoughts, Cathy thought that this was the typical western formula of many movies that she had seen as a child. And she was so right. It was either the railroad, getting the cattle to the market, or the barbed wire that formed the negative elements that perturbed the ranchers. But today, in this day of the modern generation, where the old West was forgotten, and the new West was taking over, she was not finding outlaws or Indians, but merely the elements and conditions of today's environment. Gone were the days of the hand shakes, the oral agreements, and the old trusted friends. This was an era of bankers, modern day business ethics, and win or lose. Within a few short weeks, Cathy had completed an orientation that would probably have taken the average person a few years of his life to learn. But she had a good teacher, Juan. That, along with the knowledge which she had acquired from her late father, and Manuel, coupled with her own knowledge of psychology of people, gave her the awareness that was going to help her in the future. She was now prepared to face any problem that would come before her. If she were able to cope with it physically, she knew that she could lick it. The only thing she feared, was the twenty-five thousand dollars owed to the bank. And that was only a minor fear because, after all, they were driving down over eighty thousand dollars worth of cattle to the railroad. And even subtracting the poundage that the steers lost by being pushed down from the upper ranges, it still came out to an eighty thousand dollars plus. And that wasn't too bad. They would pay off the bank, take care of the rest of the bills, and show a nice profit for the ranch for the fiscal year. In fact, it all seemed too simple to Cathy.
It was time now, for the fall roundup. Cathy had been there for several weeks, and during that time, had tried to talk Juan into taking her up for the roundup. Juan persuaded her not to go. He told her that that was meant only for men. He didn't want to expose her to the harsh language, the long hours, the rough food, the cold wind and the exposure, and the other uncomfortable things that went along with the roundup. It really wasn't as romantic as it was brought out to be in movies or magazines. Working in a roundup was tough. It started before dawn and did not end before dark. And sometimes even then lingered on if the herd began to get rattled and would break into the night. Juan told her of many nights when the herd had settled down, and tried cowboys, wearied in their boots, had been called out just a few hours before they had settled down beside their saddles, to stir a wandering herd. It was hard work, at the roundup. But Juan assured her that within a week to ten days, the cattle would be driven down for the upper grazing land, and when they all arrived down at the big corral at the ranch, then she would be welcome to join them. Cathy accepted his promise. And while she was waiting, she went over everything at the ranch as far as the business papers were concerned, put them in order, reviewed a lot of the correspondence that had been written by her father and Manuel, and by the time that the cattle had been brought down from the top, she was completely oriented as to how a ranch should be run and felt that she had spent a few years there instead of a few weeks.
It was late one afternoon when Maria called Cathy away from her desk and told her to come to the kitchen door. Maria was wiping her hands on her apron, looking out into the distance at the large cloud of dust coming down over the hill, and Cathy's eyes narrowed as she watched.
A few minutes later, a huge heard of cattle emerged from over the hill, and the wranglers, ropes in hand, and cutting horses starting in and out from the herd, pushed the great herd down from the hills, and into the big corral that had been built for them. There they would wait until it was time to take them to market. And the time was only about a day away. And the market was only about a half a day's drive across the stretch to the east to the spur that came into their land that hooked onto the railroad. Juan had promised Cathy to go along with the final drive. She had looked forward to it with a great promise.
Juan, after finally making sure that all the cattle were in the big corral that had been especially built for them, rode on back to the house, tied his horse, and then walked up to Cathy and smiled.
"Well, we brought them all down from the top in good shape," Juan told her.
Cathy smiled, gratefully. It was good to see Juan again, she thought. But he was so sweaty, so tired-looking, and he had at least a two day's growth of whiskers upon his face.
"When you finish, Juan," Maria said, "I will have you a good meal. I don't think you've had meals that good up on the roundup."
"You are so right, Maria," Juan said.
"When will you guide the cattle to the railroad spur," Cathy asked.
"Tomorrow," Juan assured her. "We will start out in the morning, and we should be there by noon."
Cathy smiled, appreciating what he had told her. It made her feel good all over. She knew that by noon tomorrow, the cattle would be at the railroad spur. By midafternoon they would be loaded, and she would have the check. And then she would go to the bank and pay off Mr. Raines. It would be as simple as that. Ranching wasn't as complicated as some people thought. At least she thought that at the present time.
"I have some work to do, and then I'll be back and have some food and wine with both of you," Juan promised.
Cathy and Maria stood there, looking at each other, and then watched Juan run out, jump on his horse, and then ride out into the distance to where the cattle were being herded into the big corral.
Cathy was happy. She knew that tonight would be a glorious evening. She knew that tomorrow would bring forth greater things. And she was especially glad that everything was going so well. She would be sorry to see Juan leave to go back to his place in the south. She would even be more sorry to go back East. She was now becoming attached to the ranch. She was beginning to like it a lot. In fact, she was beginning to like many things.
9
It was early the next morning when Cathy heard a slight knock at her door, did not answer right away, saw the knob turn, and it opened. In the giant shadows of the doorway, in the sun flooded room, she slowly opened her eyes, and saw Juan standing in the doorway looking down at her in bed.
"Good morning, Cathy," he said.
Then he walked in, stood at the foot of the bed, looked around the room, and could see her partial nakedness stretching out from the sheet that only half covered her. Slightly embarrassed, Cathy glanced down, and saw that her legs were apart. And that everything personal was revealed to Juan's eyes. She quickly grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her body.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I'm sorry for the intrusion," Juan said, not being able to take his eyes off of her body. "But we are getting ready to drive the cattle over to the railroad spur. You wanted to go along. And the hands will be ready with the herd in about an hour."
Cathy sat up in bed, pulled the sheet around her breasts, and felt quite embarrassed with the thought of Juan standing looking down at her, at the clear outline of her breasts, showing through the thin white translucent sheet.
"Then I should be getting up and getting ready," Cathy said, now completely awakening, looking out the window at the dim light of the dawn, and then back at Juan.
"You look very nice in the mornings," Juan said, complimenting her. "Thank you, Juan," Cathy answered. "Most men don't like to see women in the morning. They always look their worst."
"I'll have to disagree with most men, then," Juan answered. "To me, you look as wonderful in the morning as you do at night."
Cathy swallowed, the blood beginning to pulsate through her veins, that feeling of wanting him stimulating throughout her lions, as she leaned back in bed, and threw another pillow beneath her head.
"Oh, I feel so good in the mornings, that I almost have to force myself to get out of bed," Cathy said. "You know, Juan, since I've been down here these past several weeks, that I've become so lazy I don't even feel like going anywhere or doing anything. Have you ever felt that way?"
"Yes," Juan answered, his eyes sparkling, "I have felt that way many times."
He reached behind him, quietly shut the door, flipped the lock, and walked over toward Cathy. She looked up at him, quite surprised, her green eyes looking at him in wonder. He sat down on the side of the bed, leaned over, took her in his arms, and kissed her on the lips. Cathy began breathing hard, as she threw her arms around him, pressing her softness against him, running her fingers through his coal black hair. He began to kiss her neck and her breasts, pulling the sheet back and touching his tongue against her full white breasts, and teasing the nipples, Cathy vibrated with excitement, felt the fire in her loins, and then she pushed him back. Juan looked at her curiously.
"Get undressed, Juan," she said, trembling with excitement.
Cathy lay there, knowing what was to come, feeling better this morning than she had ever felt in her entire life. For the first time, she had actually watched a man undress in front of her in her own bedroom. Especially in the morning. It drove chills up and down her back, induced wild thoughts throughout her mind, and as she saw him slip off his shirt, and step out of his clothes, she saw him coming toward her, completely nude, and quite excited. He eased down beside her, took her in his arms, threw back the sheet, and their two nude bodies formed one as they rolled around and pressed into the mattress.
"Juan, you're so wonderful," she exclaimed, closing her eyes, feeling the aches running up and down through her body, knowing that soon she would have everything she desired. It excited her to feel his warm chest pushing against her firm breasts and his hands fumbling with the buttocks. Then she raised one leg, brushing it against his, and tried to tell him with her body that she was ready. She felt Juan's fingers slide down the flat of her stomach inching their way to that dampness between her legs. Goose-pimples literally formed all over her body, as she clutched him tightly and began biting him around the neck in sheer ecstasy.
"Give me everything this morning, Juan," she begged. "I want you to make yourself happy as much as you
want. And I want you to make me happy too. Hurry, Juan. Hurry?"
Cathy watched him flatten down against her, spread her legs, and then slowly eased himself into her, filling the emptiness, rewarding her sense of womanhood. It was exciting, she thought, as she saw him enter her. She lay back upon the propped-up pillows and watched every inch of him come into her until their bodies seemed to blend into one at that point. Then she saw him draw back, raise up slightly, smile at her, and she smiled back, contented as he began easing in and out of her.
Cathy began running her lips over his chest, caressing him tenderly, lovingly. As she excitedly pulled him to her, arching herself back and forth against him, her breasts thrusting out boldly against him, her long golden hair moved slightly in the morning breeze, highlighted in the glowing sun that was filtering through the window. Cathy could smell the sweaty scent of Juan's body, which seemed to mix with the morning air, as he pushed her deeper and deeper into the mattress, and then as she threw her arms around him, almost breathless, she felt that both their bodies were completely covered with sweat that was running down over the sheet, practically drenching the mattress.
Suddenly something seemed to erupt inside of her. Something broke the frustration. Cathy practically clawed him with her fingernails, pushed her lips into his, probing her delicate tongue into his mouth, and digging deep. Now she wasn't as tender as before. She was becoming more aggressive. And it was as if she had waited for this moment all of her life. And now she felt that she could wait no longer. She lunged into him like a charging train. She cried out tiny little moans, and her throat constricted. She wrapped her legs around his back, and throbbing, throbbing, throbbing, arched into him back and forth, breathing and moaning, as he pushed forward into her, her body quivering, exploding.
The excitement of her actions caused Juan to plunge deeper into her, cupping her breast with one hand, while the other one was firmly wrapped around her back, and then he suddenly felt the contraction within. Cathy gasped loudly with excitement. Then she threw her hands up over his back, and pulled him down upon her. She gazed into his face, seeing the sight of complete pleasure that was now reflecting from his dark eyes. The tension that had filled both of their bodies that morning had now been released. It was a wonderful, glorious feeling for the both of them.
"Juan, you are so wonderful. I have never been loved this way in my whole life. I want you to know that," she told him, between deep bites of breathing.
"I wanted to tell you that a long time ago," Juan answered, breathlessly. "I am glad we both feel the same way."
Cathy watched him for a few seconds, as her breathing restored, and saw the effect that their love had upon him. And then when he leaned down, putting his lips violently against hers, she kissed him with all the love she had in her body.
This morning had been a finalization of a sexual dream for Cathy. She couldn't help but vaguely wonder what had made her almost be the aggressor. She began to wonder what inner lusts drove her now into finally becoming a woman. She lay there trembling, almost shivering, as Juan lifted the sheet up over her and tucked it gently against her neck.
"You need to be loved, and I need your love," Juan told her softly. "And Cathy, I want to love you every time you have the desire."
Juan's words excited her, and the thoughts of him loving her forever raced through her loins to such an extend that she wanted him again, but she knew that she could not have him again right now. She could hear the wranglers outside the window getting to the cattle. The moans and neighing of the horses were increasing and the sounds of the cattle were now filtering through the window. She had wanted to honor Juan's wishes as much as he wanted to. And she looked him in the eyes, and her eyes promised him that he would have his wish. And as they both sat there, catching their breath, restoring their breathing back to normal, they both knew that the future would hold good things for both of them. Right now, unfortunately she had to get ready fast, and Juan had to get down to the cattle for the drive to the railroad spur. She reached over, took Juan's hand, pulled it to hers, clasping it in between her slender hands, and smiled graciously.
"Only a cattle drive could keep me from pulling you back into bed again," she told him, her eyes sparkling.
"And only a cattle drive could keep me from taking you up on your offer," Juan replied.
Cathy smiled back, pulling him to her, kissing him once more, and pushing him away, jumped out of bed,
now bolder than ever, now walking around in front of him completely in the nude, and throwing a bathrobe around her shoulders, told him to get up and get dressed, and not let Maria see him coming down the steps. She would quickly shower, jump into her things, and meet him at the corral. Then she kissed him gently on the cheek, opened the door, and Juan began to get dressed and get out to drive the cattle to the railroad.
Cathy came down to the kitchen, grabbed a real fast glass of juice, and with a piece of toast still in her mouth, ran out to where Juan was supervising the other wranglers in getting the cattle ready for the drive to the railroad spur.
He glanced down at her and told her that her roan was saddled and ready, and then he hollered over at a cowhand who went to the corral and led the beautiful horse out to her. Cathy pulled the reins down over its head, stepped into the stirrup, and threw herself up into the saddle. Then she looked out at the wide expanse of the ranch, and saw hundreds of heads of white-faced cattle bellowing loudly, some with calf, moving around in small circles, aware that they were going to be heading away for a final trip. It was a sight to behold. During the times she had spent here in past years, never before had she witnessed the roundup. The cattle had been brought down from the top, and they were nice and fat. And although they would lose a few pounds more as they paraded across the hot prairie to the railroad, that wouldn't be too much because they were in excellent shape. In spite of lack of rain, and even the threat of water depletion, the cattle had made it, and were now ready for market. Ready for market where she could soon pick up the check and pay off the bank.
They were out there for nearly an hour before Juan had everything ready to go. Cathy leaned back in her saddle, watching him shout commands and orders to the others, watching them obey, and watching things get done. He took full command of the situation, and in a way, reminded her of the old trail bosses that she had seen in movies as a girl. One of the top hands rode up to Juan, said a few things to him, and Juan shook his head affirmatively. Then Juan raised his hand, and stood up in his saddle, as the others looked out.
"We will drive the cattle down across the east side," Juan said loudly, giving the orders. "Then we will take them up over the back trail that cuts across to the spur. There we will hold them in, because there will be other cattle, and prevent any stampede. I don't want any man to slack off on his job. And if you all do a good job, and we get this thing over with before sunset, there's going to be a good little bonus for every one of you."
The few dozen cowhands threw their hats up into the air, giving "Whoopies" echoing throughout the dawn of the morning, as they were glad to hear the news, and in doing so, gave Juan their vote of confidence. Then Juan looked around, saw that everything was ready, then glanced at the timber on the gate. Inside the gate was the huge corral that had been built alongside the regular one, that kept in all the cattle. On the proper signal from Juan the gate would be opened, and the cattle would start off in a stream, almost funneling down the long road they were to take toward the railroad spur where they would be put in the cars, and taken to market. The time was ready. Cathy sat there watching, her heart pulsating now, almost like it did earlier that morning, waiting for the final word. Juan's eyes flashed back and forth, making sure everything was ready, and when he got the signal from his right hand man, he looked around and nodded to Cathy. She smiled back at him, nodding her head.
Almost at that instant, Maria ran out hollering at Juan at the top of her voice, and Juan dropped his hand signaling to the tender at the gate, to hold shut the gate until he found out what Marie wanted. As she approached, she was bouncing back and forth, breathlessly, a worried look across her face. Juan rode over to her, followed by Cathy.
Marie looked up at them, and catching her breath, clasped her hands together, and composed herself. "What is it?" Juan asked. "The railroad," Maria answered. "What about the railroad?" Cathy asked.
"It just came over the radio. The whole railroad went on strike an hour ago." Maria gasped.
There was silence for the next several seconds. Cathy looked at Juan, saw the look of disappointment in his face, and he leaned back in his saddle, in deep thought. There was a very hollow feeling in Cathy's stomach as she began to absorb the whole thing. Maria stood there, looking almost helpless, looking almost sorry that she had brought this news to them.
"I'll be right back," Juan said, spurring his horse, and riding away toward the tender on the gate.
Cathy turned her horse, and watched Juan ride off in the distance, talking to the man on the gate. Then as Cathy watched, she saw the word spread from cowboy to cowboy, several of them shaking their heads, and within the next few minutes, it was quite obvious that all of them knew that the railroad had gone on strike. They all sat there motionless, wondering what to do, waiting for Juan's decision. Then Juan said a few more things to the foreman, and then turned his horse and rode back to where Cathy and Maria were waiting.
"We can't drive them to the railroad if they're on strike," Juan said. "We'll have to figure another way to get them to market."
"How long do you think the railroad will be on strike?" Cathy asked.
"There's no telling," Juan answered. "There's been talk of a railroad strike here for several weeks. There's been negotiations from time to time. But I didn't think that if it did happen, it would take place this soon." "Can we drive them all the way to market from here?" Cathy asked. Juan shook his head, negatively.
"That would be almost impossible," Maria interrupted. "The railroad takes them almost 150 miles away to the livestock pens. There is no way we can drive these cattle that far. However, that is not my decision. It is up to Juan. Maybe up to you."
Cathy, perplexed, looked to Juan for an answer.
"That's out of the question," Juan said. "In the old days, when they didn't have fences or roads, when you could go across the prairies without being harassed by another rancher, you could do that. But you would also lose a good percentage of the fat on these animals that is attributed to the weight that determines how much money you get. If we were to drive these cattle that distance, it would take us many days. We would lose fat along the way because of the lack of water. The sun is hotter in the skies now than any other part of the year. It's completely out of the question."
"Then just how in the hell do you plan to get these cattle to market?" Cathy snapped.
Juan looked at her, surprised. She had never acted like this before. But he could see her frustrations beginning to show. And although he was as upset about the whole thing as much as she was, he knew that things like this had to be reasoned out. It wasn't bad enough to fight the elements of water, drought, and other elements of the range, but to get the cattle all the way down from the high land and then to find out you can't take them a short distance to the railroad spur because of the strike. It just didn't seem fair. It wasn't fair to any of the other ranchers. And Juan knew that there were other ranchers in the area whose cattle were also important to get to the railroad spur too. A lot of them were in similar situations.
"I wonder if Mr. Raines is happy and smiling or frowning and sad right about this time," Cathy said.
"I would say he is smiling," Maria said.
"It does not matter about Raines now," Juan said. "We have to figure out how to get these cattle to market. There has to be a way. If there isn't we have too much at stake. And we're not going to lose it, because we're not going to gamble a loss that big."
"Then what are we going to do?" Cathy asked.
"I don't know," Juan replied. "There has to be another way. I'm going to tell the boys to stand by, and then I'll come back into the ranch house and join you, and we'll get on the phone and see what can be done."
Cathy watched Juan ride away to the others, talk to a few of the top hands and then, realizing that there was nothing she could do, she and Maria went on back to the ranch house. She tied her roan and went inside. Maria poured her a cup of hot coffee. Cathy sat at the table, thoughtfully, trying to figure out the solution.
"What can we do?" Cathy asked, concerned.
"I do not know," Maria said, sadly, seeing the look of disappointment in Cathy's eyes. "Maybe the railroad strike won't last too long and we can still get them into market on time," Cathy reasoned.
"That would be too risky," Maria replied. "There are over fifteen-hundred head of cattle out there. They have to be fed. And to leave them out there would be tragic. You know how long it took to round them up and bring them down. We're facing a great crisis, Cathy. I can't remember a greater one that has happened during roundup time."
"There has to be a way," Cathy said.
At that instant, Juan came into the kitchen, took off his hat, and leaned back against the sink. There was a perplexed look on his face, and you could tell that he was thoroughly disgusted and probably as equally upset
as Cathy and the others. He did not say anything. Maria poured him a cup of coffee and he cradled it in his hand, sipping it gently, staring out into space. There was quiet coming down over the room for the next several minutes.
"I have an idea," Cathy said brightly.
Juan and Maria focused their eyes upon her with hope.
"Why don't we rent some large trucks and truck them to market," she said. "That would solve the whole
thing."
"There is one thing that we have probably not told you," Juan said. "The largest trucking company in the area is owned by Mr. Raines of the bank. He, too, has over a thousand head of cattle that he plans to get to the railroad that he was driving down to his ranch when we were up there too. If he were to use every truck, it would practically take every one of them to get his cattle trucked off to market. No, I am sorry to say, that although you have a good idea, it isn't out of the question in this territory."
"Well then aren't there other trucking companies around?" Cathy asked.
"Yes," Juan nodded. "But by this time, every little trucking company having three or four trucks has been contacted by ranchers so that they could at least get a few head of their cattle off to market. I don't even think we even stand a chance. But I will try."
Juan walked into the next room, picked up the telephone, and dialed a number. Cathy and Maria listened, drinking their coffee, as one conversation after another conversation told them that there were no trucks available at all. During the last conversation with an independent trucker, Juan had asked the man if he thought the Raines trucking company would have any extra trucks. There was a long, pause. Juan thanked him. Then Juan walked back to where Cathy and Maria were sitting, and told them that there was not one available truck for use anywhere. "Not even in Albuquerque. All the trucks that were available there and in Santa Fe had been dispatched already to the other ranges. And Mr. Raines has definitely decided to truck his cattle off to market. So there is no use of even calling him."
"If somebody doesn't call him, then how in the hell can we find out an answer?" Cathy said disgustingly. "I don't think we should rely on second-hand information when we have this much at stake. I'll call him myself."
With those words, Cathy jumped up from the table, went to the phone book, looked up his number, and dialed the number. A few seconds later, she heard a voice answer the telephone at the bank and she asked for Mr. Raines. The voice at the other end of the phone told her that Mr. Raines was not coming in that day. He was at his ranch. She asked for the number, hung up, and then dialed Raines's ranch. As she waited for someone to answer, both Maria and Juan looked at each other with almost forlorn glances, knowing that Cathy's attempts would be futile.
"Mr. Raines, this is Cathy Williams at the Bar None ranch," she said, smiling to hear his voice. "Perhaps you know what I'm calling about. We have over fifteen-hundred head of cattle penned up in the corral that have to get to market. And you've undoubtedly heard about the railroad strike... and I have an obligation to pay you back... and there's only one way for me to pay that obligation... that is to get my cattle to market so that I can get the money... and this I want to do very much... and I need your help."
Cathy listened for a few minutes, and the silence was almost ominous, as Maria and Juan raised up and walked over to stand before her at the telephone. After she had listened to Mr. Raines's explanation, explaining to her all of the available trucks he had in his company had to take his livestock more than a hundred miles away, and there would be no possibility at all for him to even double back and help her, her face dropped and she waited for him to politely finish telling her the rest.
"But Mr. Raines," she pleaded. "We have driven these cattle all the way down from the top grazing lands, and they are ready for the market. I'm only asking your cooperation so we can pay off the note. I would like to take care of this matter before I go back East. And we need the money that will be coming to us from the sale of these cattle not only to pay you back but to run the ranch for the winter before the spring roundup."
Cathy listened for a few more minutes, then thanked Mr. Raines, and hung up the phone, turning away sadly. She bowed her head, folded her hands in front of her, and looked out the window at the large herd of meandering steers that were bellowing in the wake of the morning rays of sun, and whose fate was now in the hands of the gods.
But would the gods have mercy upon her? Were there other ranchers who were held captive by the railroad strike? Did Frederick Raines really have to get all of his cattle to market? Couldn't he just spare enough trucks so that she could at least raise the twenty-five thousand dollars? Or was this just part of his plan to put her and other ranchers at his mercy? Maybe this was the way he operated. He had sounded so sorry, so concerned on the phone. But his concern and apologies certainly did not solve her situation. Like Manuel one time said... The land is the thing and don't ever lose it. When you lose it, you lose yourself.
She had no thoughts of losing either.
10
The day had passed very slowly. Cathy sat at the television set, watching several of the old shows, listening for the news about the railroad strike, and it all seemed pretty disgusting. From what she had heard, the strike was going to be on for several days if not several weeks. She had even gone through the yellow pages and phoned every company that owned or rented trucks. There were none to be had. She had even gone down the list of other ranches, some who had trucks, but it seemed that everyone had the same common problem. They had cattle that had to be sent to market. And some of them had shipped some of their cattle because of lack of transportation and others still had their cattle waiting in the corrals, just like hers, wondering what would happen. What a helluva good time to go into the trucking business and have about a thousand trucks to rent, Cathy thought. It was thoroughly disgusting to raise such wonderful cattle, have one of the biggest ranches in the area, and in the territory, and have them ready for market, and then have a railroad strike come along and throw a wrench into the whole thing. She was not only into getting the cattle to market, but in getting her money from the cattle to pay off the bank and to keep the ranch running through the winter until the spring roundup.
She had wanted to ask Mr. Raines on the phone if there were any possibility of extending the note. But she didn't quite have nerve enough to do that. If it would come to that, she decided, she would have to talk with him face to face. That was the best way. That was always the best way to do business. She learned that from her father. When it came to talking over money matters, the best thing to do, was to sit down, face to face, eye to eye. That way there were never any misunderstandings. And it always worked out better. It had been successful for her father, it had been successful for Manuel. Then the thought of Manuel crossed her mind. What would Manuel do it he were here? She pondered on that thought for a few minutes. And for some reason she could not chase it from her mind. Then she glanced out the window, saw the brown backs and faces of the healthy cattle mulling around in the late afternoon sun, restless as she was that they were not on the trail heading for the railroad.
Then she rose from her chair, walked about the room restlessly, and began exploring what possibilities could be uncovered in her situation. For the first time in her life there was no answer. It was impossible, as Juan had told her, to drive the cattle that far to market. In the first place, it would take too much time. They would completely miss getting the cattle there on time to sell them. There were only two ways available. The trucks or the railroad. And with the railroad on strike, and no trucks to be rented or used, there did not seem a way out at all. She looked out the window, saw Juan talking with several of the old cowhands, leathery faced, their creased faces scarred with the winds of time, and it seemed that none of them had an answer. Then she glanced out into the kitchen and saw Maria going about her work, and suddenly felt that she was so much alone. She had never faced a crisis like this before in her life.
Now becoming more restless than ever before, she walked out into the kitchen, told Maria that she was going for a ride, and not to wait dinner for her. Maria stood at the screen door and watched Cathy's slender body disappear toward the barn. A few minutes later, Cathy pulled the roan out through the double doors, climbed into the saddle, and took off over the sands to the west of the range, both horse and rider showing against the red sun of late afternoon. Maria stood there, watching and wondering as Cathy's figure began to diminish in the distance.
It was some time later, when the heat of the afternoon had finally subsided, and the red sky was stretched out against the horizon, and twilight had fallen upon the prairie by the time Cathy had ridden to the far end of the ranch, led her horse across the road to the small cemetery, and tied it to the broken gate. Then, in the shadows of the late afternoon, almost twilight now, she walked through the small cemetery that had been restored through the last several weeks, and to the grave where Manuel had been put to rest. She stood there at the foot of the grave, as if in reverence, and she was happy to see that Manuel's tombstone was exactly the way she had ordered it. Like the little girl that she really was inside at times, here she was now, a growing woman in her early twenties, coming to a desolate cemetery, trying to find an answer. The little night birds flitted from pine to pine and chirped loudly as she stood there, the chill wind of the evening rustling her long blonde hair, and the tumble weeds blowing around the edge of the cemetery, bouncing against the fence, and
then tearing off someplace in the distance across the sands.
Cathy looked down at Manuel's grave. Here was a man that she knew had all the answers. But now he was gone and could not help. What would he do if he were living today and this situation had happened? Would he only have the choices that were put to her and the others? With the railroads on strike and the trucks all committed for, would Manuel sit back, and let that big herd of white-faced steers become impatient to the point that they might break down the corral and stampede in the night? Would Manuel still possess some of that old Spanish blood that flowed so gloriously through his veins, the blood of his ancestors, and decide that the cattle had to get to market one way or the other? Would he make some type of arrangement with the buyers and tell them that he was driving the whole herd into town on the hoof? Then she shook her head, realizing that this too was almost a fantasy, as those things just weren't done in modern times. It was a shame, she thought, the passing of the old West, and the beginning of the new. She wasn't quite sure that she liked it. She liked the West all right. And everything it had to offer. But there were some things that they had going for them in the old days that no longer existed. There were too many rules, too many problems, and too many selfish people. As she looked down at the lonesome grave, she wondered if Manuel was really better off, wherever he was, and if he just might be looking down at them, smiling saying that "Well, they're your cattle, Cathy, and it's up to you and Juan to get them to market."
Suddenly she was terrified at the presence of a noise she heard behind her, stumbled, and in the faint glow of the evening, saw Juan walking in the cemetery towards her. How did he know where she had gone? She wanted to be alone, at least for a while. That's why she had ridden all the way up there by herself. Did he perhaps have some news to tell her? She watched him walk slowly toward her, and then he came practically up against her, taking off his hat, looking at the grave, and then back at her. He did not say anything right away. And she knew from the look in his eyes that there was no news to report.
"How did you know where I was?" she asked.
"Your horse has one failing, Senorita Cathy," he said, smiling. "It leaves tracks."
Cathy smiled, realizing that it was the first time she had smiled in several hours. Then she turned to Juan, looked him in the eyes, and saw that his eyes were dark and strong. And she also realized that his eyes reflected sorrow for her. She knew that Juan felt as bad about this situation as anybody else. Including all the workers on the ranch, and even herself.
"How long can we hold the cattle in the corral?" she asked.
"It will take some doing," Juan answered. "But the men are trying their best, until some miracle takes place."
"Miracles just don't happen that fast," Cathy snapped. "If we're waiting for a miracle, we might as well drive the cattle up into the upper range, and forget about the whole thing."
Juan grabbed her, pulled her to him, and looked into her eyes, which were burning with fire and contempt. Her green eyes resembled green flames lunging out, flames of hate for what had been done to her, and Juan well realized her feelings. But he was not going to let her get upset about this matter. There had been worse things happen on the range. There had been many things at stake in past years that she never even knew about. And although Juan himself, did not quite understand or know how he was going to solve this matter, he did know one thing. He did not like to see her act like this. And he would not allow it.
Juan pressed his lips against her, held her tightly, putting his arms around her narrow waist, running one hand down over her rich hips. Just the mere touch of him set her ablaze with desire. Cathy felt her resistance weakening, as he continued to press his lips against her, running his hands over her breasts, feeling the firmness of her nipples jutting out at him through the thinness of her blouse, and pressing them against his firm chest. Her breathing began to increase, and the excitement of being held by him again, raced through every nerve of her body, making her quiver and shake in his arms.
He took her out of the cemetery, and they walked to a small patch of green grass nearby a lonely pine, on a small knoll that overlooked the road. The last rays of sun had gone behind the mountains, and a cold chilled air blew tiny breezes upon them, as he lay her down upon the grass, and began holding her, kissing her, probing his tongue in and out of her lips, driving her into sheer ecstasy.
Then he opened her blouse completely, excited to see that she wore no bra, and began running his tongue wildly over her breasts, and squeezing her nipples. With the other hand, he unbuttoned her slacks and moved
his hand down the flat of her stomach, to that damp place between her legs, and then undressed her completely. While he was doing this, Cathy excitedly began to take his clothes off, and soon they were lying there in the cold of the evening, pressed into one, holding each other tightly and kissing each other violently. The flames of their passion extinguished any of the cold breezes that blew upon their bodies.
"Juan, you make me so happy," she whispered, her nude body twisting in sinuous suggestion as he held her, drinking in the superb beauty of her nakedness.
Then he pulled her to him, his lips exploring her neck, biting the lobes of her ears, and then pressing deeply against her lips.
Cathy looked into his dark eyes, and the sight of him aroused her. And her nostrils excited her as she began to breathe in the fragrance of his sweaty body as he feverishly held her, loved her. Every nerve in her body now was excited, tingling. And as he ran his hand over her thighs, kissing her navel, her whole body shook with excitement and anticipation. Juan pressed his tongue against a pulsing vein on the softness of her neck, kissed it repeatedly until she thought she'd go crazy from the sensations.
Then he raised up, pushing both hands down on her buttocks, massaging them in circular motions, staring at Cathy's beautifully firm and pliant body. It was twisting, convulsing, and her eyes were closed in ecstasy. Almost instinctively, she reached for his hands, glided them up over her thighs. Then she lay back, almost purring like a kitten.
Juan pressed his head between her breasts, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her body, her perfume mixed with the sweat and the night air. He turned his head back and forth between the beautifully formed mountains of flesh. Her body began to stiffen under him, and her hands began to tighten under his shoulders. And he heard her gasping, felt the heat of her body, and then he completely fell upon her with his muscular frame.
She began to move comfortably, conveniently, opening her legs, welcoming that miraculous movement as he edged into her, kissing her feverishly, as he pushed deeper into her body which was twisting and begging for him.
"Juan," she breathed, "love me like you have never loved before."
Cathy looked up into Juan's eyes, saw that he was going to make good her wish, then leaned back, as she felt him kissing her breasts, and throat, and then biting the lobes of her ears.
Then her hips began to gyrate, and in long, thrusting movements, they met in rhythmic gyrations, her pelvis thrusting into him, up and down violently as only the stillness of the prairie heard their sobbing gasps of breaths from their flaring nostrils which sounded like the wind roaring through one of the nearby canyons.
Cathy had wanted it to last longer. But as the goose pimples formed on her body, around her arms, and the hot sweat turned to a cold chill, as Juan slammed his body against hers, showing her his power, plunging himself into her, she suddenly felt the fluids of her body being released beyond her will. Then suddenly everything snapped. She had reached her orgasm so fast, and in the excitement Juan had reached his, that both bodies just lay limp. But what a sensation. Cathy had felt it, eyes wide, watching Juan as the frenzied look of sexual relief flashed from his dark eyes, amidst the great expansion and contraction of his chest, moving back and forth away from her. She gazed into his face, her breathing coming back, loving every bit of the pained expression that had crept into his dark eyes and the tension that had sprung from within him. She had enjoyed watching the effect that it had upon him. And she welcomed his body when he finally dropped down to her, pitting his hips violently against hers, resting his lips against her cheek. She held him in her arms, grateful that he had sent her through another wave ofjoyous relief.
Several minutes later, they stretched out on their backs, lying on the crisp sweet-smelling grass that had dried in the sun. They rested comfortably. Together, although in silence, their eyes wandered back and forth, watching the wonders of nature. A few clouds were drifting by overhead. A couple of small night birds flew down near the trunk of the pine tree, picked at a few weeds, and then flew back into the dark limbs of the tree. Together they heard the rustling of the evening wind through the branches of the pine. They were now both fully aware of the sounds about them. And for the first time since they had been together, they both were absorbed in an awareness that seemed to dull their minds to every problem that bothered them.
Cathy felt that she was living in a world of blissful happiness. An experience that comes only once in a lifetime. Especially when one is so very young, like her. And like Juan, who was callused to the life on the ranch, she had been completely in his problems too. But she was confident that there would be better things
tomorrow. For the both of them.
That night, after they had dressed and mounted their horses, they rode slowly back across the prairie, over the drifting sands, walking their horses at a slow gait, to the flickering yellow lights of their ranch house in the distance. As they neared, the lights became brighter, and it was good to know that here was a place, that although it was now plagued with certain problems, they could rest for the night, and possibly hope for the best tomorrow.
Juan gave the horses to one of the hands when they got to the ranch, and then he and Cathy went into the kitchen, washed up, and sat down and had a bite of Maria's cooking. Although Maria's table was as plush as ever, with the best food, nobody seemed too hungry that night. Cathy was extremely tired. Juan was very restless. Cathy finished her snack, bade Juan and Maria good night, and retired to her room.
Up in her room, now completely showered and cleansed, dressed in a frilly white negligee, she too was tired but restless. She turned out the light, walked to the window, and looked out. She saw Juan standing in the distance near the huge gate that led to the corral talking with a couple of the cowhands. She could not hear what they were saying because their voices were drowned out over the noises from the nervous herd of steers penned up below her.
As she looked out the window at Juan, the moonlight filtering down over the figures of the wranglers about him, and falling upon the uneasy shifting bodies of the herd, her mind raced back to that first afternoon at the stream where he had loved her. She recalled how they had stripped off all of their clothes, and quietly stole looks at each other, each with the thought of making wild passionate love, under Western skies. She remembered seeing Juan swimming in the water, seeing his broad shoulders, the ripple of the muscles along his back, and his gleaming white smile, as he looked to her that afternoon like a Greek god. His dark hair, slender face, symmetric lips, and straight nose had the resemblance of tone of those pictures she had seen in history books that dated back to the great sculptures such as Socrates. And she remembered how, when he had first loved her, the feeling of guilt and shame had spread through her loins as much as the excitement that he had induced previously. Now, after many sessions of lovemaking since, after several weeks had passed here on the ranch, she no longer was ashamed of making love to Juan. She had remembered that in that quiet solitude that first time, Juan had felt the thick, moist lips of hers touch him. And both of their hearts pounded heavily. And their breathing had become rapid. And, as they loved each other, rolling in the sand, she knew that this was the beginning of a happiness she would never be able to capture again. With any man. Both of them had told each other that they were in love. She was quite sure that Juan loved her. And she was very certain of those same feelings that she had toward him. Tonight, as she looked out at him, standing in the night, talking to the wranglers, she realized that he should be sleeping. In a way, she felt a little sorry for him. This tall dark stranger whom she had met only a few weeks before, who had now become her best friend, and great lover. As she thought over the whole events of the day, she walked across to her bed, pulled down the covers, and felt a little sorry for herself too.
Sleep did not come easily for Cathy that night. She was extremely restless. The thoughts of the day could not be chased from her mind. She twisted and she turned for the next couple of hours until finally she felt exhausted. And fell off into a deep sleep from this exhaustion. Now, at least temporarily for the night, her worries were dormant.
It seemed that she had only been asleep for a short time when she heard the uneasiness of the cattle sounds echoing through her window. And she heard strange, guttural, rumbling noises in the distance, that she had never heard before. She glanced out the window and saw that it was still dark. She looked at the clock on the night-stand and saw that within an hour it would almost be daylight. Then she raised up in bed, brushed the sleep from her eyes, and heard the strange rumbling noises moving closer and closer, getting louder and louder. She jumped out of bed, ran to the window, and couldn't believe her eyes.
Coming up the long road from the highway, were strange flickering headlights, one right after the other, big, sturdy trucks, making their way towards the ranch. She tried to count the amount of headlights, but stopped after she had reached about two dozen. There were still more coming in the distance. Excitement rose within her. She threw on a robe, opened the door, and ran down the steps into the living room. There she saw Maria, walking out of her room, wondering what the noise was, and Cathy told her that there were several trucks coming up to the ranch. Maria couldn't figure out why trucks would be coming to their ranch at that
hour of the morning. Then the door opened, and Juan walked in, completely dressed, except his shirt which he was buttoning up, completely bewildered about what was taking place. Cathy looked at him questioningly. "Whose trucks are those?" Cathy asked.
"I do not know," Juan said, "but wherever they came from, they are a blessing."
They all walked to the door, then went out to the porch, and saw the first set of trucks rumble up around the corral towards the ranch house. It was a sight to behold. The hired hands were running out of the bunkhouse, dressing on the way, looking on and bewildered, as one truck after the other pulled up and took its place in almost a semi-circle around the corral. They watched the drivers of the trucks get out, look around, and there were some small bits of conversation between the drivers and some of the cowboys as they walked up. Then a big, black Cadillac came out of the middle of the row of trucks that were coming up the road, and swung on over closer to the porch to where they were standing. It was still a little too dark to see who was in it but, when a door opened, unmistakably they saw Frederick Raines step out and look at them with a smile on his face.
"Good morning," Raines said, walking toward them on the porch. "I hope you don't mind my getting you out of bed this early but you're oversleeping a little bit. We've got cattle to move into town to get to market. And I've got the men here ready to load them so get those bums out of bed and let's get moving."
Juan looked baffled. There were no words to say. He looked at Cathy who had an even more puzzled look on her face and Maria who was completely astounded.
"I don't quite understand, Mr. Raines," Cathy said. "But whatever you're doing, I appreciate it very much."
"Nonsense," Raines said. "You've got to get all these steers into market, young lady. And Juan here knows what a problem that is if you don't have the trucks. Well, I've made my trucks available to take all of your steers right down to the market. Now get those bums out of bed, and let's start loading those cattle. We've got a lot of work to do before the sun comes up."
"But what about your cattle, Mr. Raines?" Cathy asked. "Juan told me that he saw your men up on the range bringing down over a thousand head, and you surely couldn't have got them to market and got the trucks back too this fast."
Raines only smiled, the creases of his face falling into a fold.
"Well, young lady, let me tell you something. I have a little bit of a selfish interest in this whole thing to tell the truth. I figgered out that you've got so many head of cattle according to the report that Juan showed for the market, and that they'd be wasting so many pounds by the time that they got down to the railroad spur. Well, I did a little bit of homework, and I came up with a pretty good market figure. I took the livestock figures out of the paper yesterday and computed how much you'd get if you got all of these cattle down to market and after I did that, I ordered a check to be made out to you on my bank."
Cathy's face brightened. She could not believe the words she was hearing.
Juan looked on with utter disbelief.
Marie could not believe her ears.
Cathy watched as Raines reached into the inside of his coat, removed an envelope, handed it to her, and when she opened it, she saw a cashier's check made out to the Bar None Ranch for seventy-one thousand dollars. Her hands were trembling as she looked at it and showed it to both Juan and Marie who couldn't believe their eyes either.
"You see, Miss Williams," Raines began, "I couldn't afford to let you drive all these cattle down from the top range and not get them to market. Because I figured that there was only one way to get them there. And that way was very simple."
"I don't understand," Cathy said.
"In other words, Miss Williams," Raines continued, "I bought all of your cattle and I came here to deliver your check and pick up my property. Now Juan, you get out there with those men and start loading those trucks. I want to get them on the road as soon as possible because they're going to have to start doubling back one by one so we can help a few other ranchers in the valley here, get their cattle down to market too."
"But what about your cattle?" Cathy asked.
"I don't have the obligations to meet that a lot of people around here do," Raines said, in a resigned voice. "Although I wanted to get mine off to market this fall, I guess it isn't going to hurt to hold them back for a
time, and maybe taking a chance of getting them in later this year, or even waiting until next spring. The most important thing is your getting yours loaded and out of the way. So just consider this not a favor from me, mind you, but just a business venture that I decided to take up on my own."
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Raines," Cathy said, "I don't know how quite to thank you."
"You don't have to thank me, Miss Williams," Raines answered. "As I told you, I'm not doing this because I feel sorry for you. I know the spot you're in. So, being a businessman, I took advantage of the situation. If you recall, I've said that I paid you the prices that were in the paper yesterday for the cattle. That's what you would have gotten had you been able to get them down to the railroad and off to market. Is it a deal?"
"It most certainly is," Cathy said, in a determined voice.
"Then there is nothing else to talk about," Raines said, a slight smile on his face. "But since that rail strike came in, the prices in the newspaper went up. I stand to make myself another few thousand dollars on top of what I paid you in getting your cattle down to the market. And I'm certainly not going to pass up a business opportunity like that."
"Thank you, Mr. Raines," Cathy said, with the check in her hand. "When I come over to your bank to cash it, I'll square things up with you about the note."
"Whenever you have time," Raines said, walking away from them and going to his car. "I hate to be like this, but I've got work to do. I've got to check out my trucks, make sure that the drivers are tuned in on their routes, and then I've got to get down to the bank and open the doors for morning business."
Cathy held the check preciously in her hands, watched Mr. Raines get in his car and drive away, and then with a slight tear dribbling down over one cheek, she turned to Juan. She leaned her head against his chest, and felt his strong arm go around her waist.
"Well, I guess I've seen and heard everything," Maria said, feeling much better, a smile on her face, as she excused herself and walked back in the house.
Cathy looked up at Juan. There was now a look of fresh hope within his eyes. A smile was on his face. Gasping, he pulled Cathy to him, turned her head with one hand, and gently touched her lips with his.
"Well, miracles do happen, don't they?" he said, happily.
Cathy nodded, a few more tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I'd better be going," Juan said. "I've got a lot of work to do now."
Cathy took his hand as he was about ready to leave, and pulled him to her, and looked into his eyes. "Juan, are you going to stay on?" she asked.
"I was just about ready to ask you that same question," he answered.
She looked at him with great affection, and as he looked into her eyes, he found the answer.
