"I am a man, just like you, just like any other man. And I don't really mind not being smart," Jesse continued. "I'm used to it and it just don't bother me much. Even when folks is teasing me, I jest ignore 'em and say, they's joking around and not meaning to be hurtful. I don't bother about it. But when I'm a-standing near a sweet-smelling gal, I jest get these feelings all over and it ain't like the hurt feelings. I cain't push 'em away."
"There is nothing unusual in that, Jesse," Roe said. 'The feelings you have for women are from your body. They have nothing to do with being simple and being simple doesn't stop you from having them."
"But Pa says that I cain't never let 'em go."
Roe's brow furrowed in worry and thoughtful consideration. "I'm sure your father only wants what he thinks is best for you, Jesse," Roe said. "But he's a father, too, and maybe he's not thinking of you as quite a man."
"I don't suspect he ever will."
"But I do, Jesse. I think you are a man."
Roe's quiet words had the power to raise Jesse's drooping chin and bring a warm smile to his face. "Thanks, frien'," he said.
The quiet of the late night was all around them. The woods were dark and looming with the rustle of leaves and the long grass beneath them was damp with dew. Their eyes were momentarily content with the hazy vision of liquor.
"You know what we need to do, Jesse?" Roe asked with sudden excited determination.
"What?"
"We need to get you a woman."
"What?"
"Like you said, not a lot of women or one forever, but I'm sure that even in this backwoods there are women of, shall we say, uncertain virtue."
Jesse's eyes widened.
"Well there's the Widder Plum down near the blackberry hollow," he said.
'The Widow Plum," Roe repeated.
"That's what she calls herself, but I heard the fellers saying she ain't a widder a'tal, just her man runned off and she entertains fellers of an evening."
Roe nodded. "Well, Jesse. I think that you and I had better pay a call to the widow."
"Tonight! Can we go tonight?"
"Of course we can't go tonight," Roe answered. "You can't even walk. You'll have to get your ankle healed up before you can go pay a call."
"It's feeling better already," Jesse insisted as he lurched to his feet.
Roe wrapped an arm about his waist and encouraged Jesse to lean against him. "We're going to get you back to the house and let you lay up a couple of days and when you're fit, we'll go to see this widow of yours."
Jesse hollered with donk-driven delight. "I cain't wait!"
"Sure you can, you've waited all this time. A few days won't matter."
The two half walked, half dragged themselves across the field, making their way home.
"At the Literary the other night," Jesse admitted in quiet confession, "I was standing behind Althea McNees. She's the one that's about to wed Paisley Winsloe."
Roe nodded, remembering the young woman.
"Oh, she smells real good, Roe," Jesse told him breathlessly. "She must put sweet spices in her soft soap, I think."
Roe smiled.
"I was jest standing behind her and smelling her and I wanted that so bad, Roe, I was near fit to cry."
Nodding, Roe patted his friend on the shoulder. "I've felt that way myself a time or two, Jesse," he said. "It's normal. It's what every man feels from time to time. We can't be blamed for wanting. Sometimes we're not allowed to act upon what we want, but that doesn't mean we still don't want it."
"Did you ever feel that way about Althea McNees?" Jesse asked.
"No, not about her," Roe admitted.
Jesse nodded. "You feel that way about Meggie," he said with certainty.
"Meggie!" Roe's head spun around so quickly, it made him dizzy and he nearly dropped Jesse on the path.
"Yeah, Meggie. My sister, your woman," Jesse said. ”Truth, remember."
"I... I sometimes feel that about Meggie," Roe admitted.
Jesse shook his head. "I swear, Roe, I don't understand none of this marriage thing. If you want to and you're not scared and you done it afore," Jesse asked, "why ain't you laying with Meggie?"
The question, to Roe's mind, came out of nowhere.
"Meggie?"
"You're her man, ain't you? Everybody says so and ye ain't denied it much since that first day. You jumped the Marrying Stone together. That gives you the right to be doing it whenever you want."
"We may have the right and it still not be right, Jesse."
"It's got to be right. It ain't like me wanting Althea McNees and she wanting to wed up with Paisley Winsloe. You're wanting Meggie and she's a-wanting you. So, if you're both a-wanting why ere ye sleeping in yer new bed alone?"
Roe cleared his throat nervously. "It's complicated," he said. "And what makes you think that Meggie wants me?"
Jesse laughed out loud. 'That's a good one, Roe. Lord, Meggie's so stuck on you if you crossed yer eyes that gal'd be looking slant-back for all time."
Meggie heard them long before she saw them. Disturbing the quiet night sounds of crickets and tree frogs was the stamp and crash of grass and broken underbrush and the low-pitched giggling of her brother Jesse.
With more curiosity than concern, Meggie hurried into the woods bordering the clearing. It wasn't until she saw them crossing Itchy Creek, Jesse leaning heavily upon Roe that she gave a little startled cry.
"What happened?"
The two men looked up at her.
"Hey, Meggie," her brother called out. "My frien' Roe and I are jest sharing a bit of hospitality." He giggled loudly. "Or was we sharing a bit of donk?"
"Donk!" Meggie's expression turned furious. "Monroe Farley, have you gone and got my brother drunk?"
Jesse had quit walking midway across the stream. Roe, holding the sack of frogs, the gigger, the grease lamp, and the empty jug in his hands, still managed to drag Jesse to the near shore where the two, together with their gear, fell in a heap at Meggie's feet.
"I didn't get him drunk," Roe answered. "He got me drunk."
"But it's a good thing I'm drunk, Meggie," Jesse piped in. "'Cause I done broke my leg and if it weren't for that fiery donk, I'd probably be hurting real bad."
Roe had laid back against the grass and closed his eyes in the vain hope of stopping the ground from spinning. "Don't worry, Jesse," he said, only half joking. "I got a feeling that there will be plenty of hurting to go around tomorrow."
Meggie dropped down on the grass between Roe and her brother. "Dad-burn and blast, Jesse. Let me see your leg."
"It's not broken," Roe told her as he took in a deep breath that brought the warm, clean smell of her to him. "He's just wrenched it some. I'm sure if we get him to bed and he keeps off of it for a couple of days, he'll be fine."
"That's easy enough for you to say," Meggie snapped.
Roe chuckled. "Believe me, it's not easy for me to say anything. My jaw doesn't seem to be attached right and my tongue is as thick as one of your pasty griddle cakes and tastes almost as bad."
Meggie huffed in indignation and was tempted to hit Roe over the head, but figured in his current state that it wouldn't hurt him nearly enough.
Roe was squinting at her now. "You know, Meggie," he said, "you got the prettiest feet of any woman that I ever saw."
Jesse cackled. "And she smells good, too, Roe. Don't be forgetting that."
"Who could forget with her sitting here right next to me?" Roe took a deep breath and sighed. "You smell wonderful, Meggie."
"Don't be silly," she answered tersely. "I probably smell like old blue pot dye. Now get on your feet and help me get Jesse to bed. If Pa catches him drunk like this, we'll never hear the end of it."
Unsteadily, Roe made it to his feet. Jesse had, for no apparent reason, taken up giggling again. And his laughter made it even harder for him to stand up. Roe and Meggie hoisted the huge young man between them and began to carry him toward the cabin.
"Hush up now,
Jesse," Meggie ordered. "The last thing in the world we want is for you to wake up Pa."
"Nope, can't tell him a thing," Jesse whispered. "It's our secret, me and Roe. We're both men and men have got needs."
"Well, the need for two men to get liquored up on donk is a shame on this earth," Meggie complained.
"I ain't talking about drinking needs, Meggie," Jesse protested. "I'm talking about them other needs. The ones that—"
"Jesse, what you need is to do less talking and more walking," Roe interrupted him. "I'm not too steady and you are going to break your sister's back for sure."
"No, Meggie's strong," Jesse insisted to Roe. "She ain't no fainting flower. My sister is tough as nails. She's whooped me a time or two when we was younger. Course, I don't expect she'll do that to you." Jesse hooted with laughter at the idea, but his carriers ignored him.
"If we just put him in the outside bed," Meggie said, "then we won't wake Pa and maybe he'll never know."
Roe shook his head. 'There isn't a thing in the world that gets past Onery. He'll know for sure."
Meggie's irritation slipped through. "Maybe you don't mind getting my brother in trouble, but I want to help him all I can."
They reached the four-log-high beginnings of the new cabin room and Roe managed to hoist Jesse over and get him onto the bed.
"You'd help your brother a whole lot more if you'd just stay out of his way and let him live his life for good or for ill."
"Oh, you mean just let him get drunk if he's a mind to and break his leg out in the woods."
"His leg isn't broken and yes, if he wants to get drunk or get his own gun and a dog or whatever, you and your father ought to let him do it. It's little enough for a man to ask of life."
"Oh, I see, Mr. Scholar from the Bay State, after a few weeks in the Ozarks you've not only become an expert on cooking and plowing, you're also an expert on my brother."
"I just meant—"
"If you two don't stop yellin'," Jesse interrupted them, "you're going to wake up Pa for sure."
Guiltily the two hushed. In the dim light of the moon, they examined his injured ankle, Meggie concurring with Roe that the wrenched joint would be better with time and required no splint or bandage.
Carefully, Meggie pulled the worn summer coverlet up to her brother's chin and gave him a sisterly kiss on the forehead. He was already snoring.
Meggie turned to speak to Roe, only to find he was staggering back toward the creek. Still angry, she hurried after him.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked as she made it to his side.
Roe gave her barely more than a glance. "I'm going to get the frogs," he said. "If we leave the sack there by the creek, they will surely manage to escape by morning."
"I'm surprised you even caught any."
“That's what we went out to do," Roe replied. "In fact, we caught so many that we traded half for the donk."
"Whose idea was that?"
"It wasn't mine."
"Oh, I suppose you're going to tell me that Jesse got the idea to get drunk."
Roe reached the stack of discarded gear by the creek and jerked up the tow sack, carefully securing the closure. He didn't even bother to look at her as he spoke. "I'm not telling you anything, except that your brother is a man, just like me, and he gets the same kind of ideas that I get."
Angry, Meggie reached over and grabbed Roe's shirt, forcing him to face her. "Jesse is simple."
"Some things in life are pretty damn simple."
The two stood there in the silvery light of the moon for a long moment, the fine, combed cotton cloth of his shirt clutched in her hand. She meant to pull away, but she gazed up into his eyes and could not. She saw it there, in his eyes. It was that look, that same esurient look she'd seen before, once when he'd held her in his arms and later when he'd caught her at her bath. It was there now in his eyes, glittering imminent and feral.
Meggie felt him tremble for one hesitating minute before his hands went around her waist and he pulled her into his embrace.
"I want you," he declared almost angrily before he closed the distance between their lips.
Meggie was startled by the raw passion of his kiss. The touch of his mouth on hers was neither gentle nor reluctant. His lips parted over hers demandingly and the clutch of the arms around her waist was sure and controlling.
"R-Roe," she stuttered in stunned surprise against his lips. "Roe, I — "
"Meggie," he answered her in a whisper against her flesh. "Meggie, stop me if you must, but do it now, now while I still can."
In answer she melted against him, quivering in awakening awareness of dazzling sensual desire.
Roe pulled her tightly against him and his hand moved across her back from shoulder to waist, pressing her bosom against him, as his lips moved over her own.
Completely unprepared for the sensations that assailed her, Meggie maintained her grasp upon his shirtfront as if it were a lifeline.
The taste of Roe Farley was hot and compelling against her mouth, but when his mouth moved down the tender softness of her throat, gooseflesh raised upon Meggie's skin and shuddering waves of desire flowed through her.
Pull away, pull away from his touch, her reason implored her. But her heart hammered within her loudly, drowning out all warnings.
Eagerly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and crushed her inexplicably aching bosom against his chest. The crowning buds at the tips of her breasts had swelled and bloomed at his touch. She snuggled against him even closer.
She heard a groan from deep inside his throat. One strong sun-browned hand slid up her side to cup her breast. His touch was firm and sure as he teased the hardened nipple between his fingers.
Meggie gasped with pleasure and he pulled gently along her earlobe with his mouth.
She crushed herself to him. "Closer, I need to get closer," she whispered.
"Oh, Meggie," he ground out hoarsely. "I'll get you close. Closer than you've ever been to another human soul."
Roe slipped his arms beneath her knees and carried her only a few yards away before laying her in a bed of sweet-blooming clover.
He followed her body to the ground, his knee gently parting her thighs.
"Meggie, sweet Meggie," he whispered as his mouth moved down her throat to her bosom.
She trembled at the heat of his kiss and the cool of the night breeze upon her dampened breast. The feelings that coursed through her were new and untamed. She felt removed from her body as if it had an existence separate from her own. Yet, never in her life had she felt so aware of her senses and desires as she did now.
Roe pulled up her josie. Not slowly or surreptitiously, but with purpose. The nakedness of her legs chilled Meggie. But she sought warmth, in the heat of his body.
"You're beautiful, beautiful, Meggie," he told her as he ran his hand up and down the naked flesh he'd uncovered. "I knew the day I saw your pretty bare feet that your legs would be strong and shapely. The kind of legs to wrap around a man's waist."
She didn't need further invitation. Meggie clasped her knees about him and held fast as he rocked in place atop her, stoking the fire that blazed up between them.
"Does it feel good?" he whispered. “There is more, Meggie. Let me give you more."
"Give me everything," she breathed.
Roe sat back on his knees, keeping her thighs spread before him. He smoothed upward the pale, tender skin of her inner thighs.
"What curls, Meggie," he said. "What seductively tempting curls." He coursed through them with his fingers.
She jerked and twitched at the intimate caress. As his hands explored more firmly, she strained and wiggled against him.
She heard him sigh with contented delight as he whispered into her ear. "Perfect."
His words both excited and entranced Meggie as she quavered in his embrace, her head turned against the fresh spring softness of the clover beneath her.
Roe eased one long finger into the honeyed heat of h
er. Meggie gasped aloud at the intimate touch.
"Oh, my sweet darling," Roe muttered as he slid another finger inside. "You are so ready, you are so wonderful." With one hand he fumbled at his britches. "Damn, I've got to get these trousers off."
They weren't off, but they were down as he moved over her, circling his waist with her legs once more. He set his mark true and as he thrust himself inside her, Meggie cried out. It was not so much from pain, as from wonder.
Fully inside, he lay over her. "Are you all right, Meggie?" he asked her as he kissed her ear.
"Yes, I'm—" Meggie had no other words as tiny, glistening tears from emotions she didn't understand escaped from the corners of her eyes.
Roe felt the dampness on his cheek and tried to kiss them away. "I can't stop now, Meggie," he pleaded. "Don't make me stop now."
"Don't stop," she answered.
Roe needed no further sanction. With strong, powerful thrusts he drummed a rhythm older than time or music. Meggie's answering fire strained melody to the highest and lowest of fevered pitch. Until, with muscles tense in consummate ecstatic rapture, they cried out together in perfect harmony.
Chapter Nineteen
Thr sun was near the middle of the sky when Roe Farley squinted his eyes open. The light seemed to stab through his head like a hot knife. Moaning, he rolled over and buried his face in the trampled clover beneath him. The sweet smell of it was welcoming to his aching body and soothing to his tired soul. He'd never before appreciated the gentle grassy scent. But this morning it was a glorious fragrance as dear and as precious to him as his Meggie.
"Meggie?"
The word passed his lips in a quiet whisper. A long second passed and the sound faded before Roe's head popped up from the grass. His eyes opened wide with shock.
"Meggie!"
He ran a hand along the ground beside him as if he didn't trust his own vision. Finding no soft, feminine body at his side, he sat up.
His quick, intemperate move seemed to rock the universe, and he fell back clutching his temples.
"Donk," he groaned and silently cursed the unholy brew. He'd got himself royally drunk, crazed with liquor, and had taken illicit advantage of Meggie Best.
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