by Kayt C Peck
“Yuck,” she said. “St. John’s Wart smells a lot better than it tastes.”
Judy laughed and rolled onto her side, facing her lover. “No one said nursing me would be easy.”
Kathleen kicked off her house slippers and stretched full-length beside Judy on the bed, wrapping her arms comfortably around Judy.
“No one said it would be easy loving you. Especially when you insist on trying to get yourself killed,” Kathleen said.
“I was trying to put out a fire. The nearly getting killed part was an unexpected bonus,” Judy said
“Bonus! More like bone-headed.” Kathleen raised up, leaning on one elbow. “I know it’s useless to ask you to give up firefighting, but you damn well better promise to be more careful.”
Judy pulled Kathleen to her, kissing her with a deep tenderness. Kathleen moaned, her body moving against Judy, the intensity of arousal only increased by familiarity with her partner’s taste and smell and touch.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Judy whispered against Kathleen’s cheek.
Kathleen laughed softly and pulled slightly away, just far enough so that she could look into Judy’s eyes as she brushed a strand of hair from Judy’s forehead. “What? You have kept a secret from me?”
“Not for long,” Judy said softly. “You know, I almost panicked when that shelf fell and that can of paint thinner went off.”
Kathleen gave a ragged breath and buried her face in the nape of Judy’s neck. “Thank God you didn’t.”
“You know what saved me?”
“No.”
“You.”
Kathleen leaned away again, confusion on her face. “What?”
“I thought of you. I knew I had to do whatever it took to come home to you. I remembered your face. I thought of the pain it would cause you if I died. My mind went cold and clear because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you,” Judy said.
Tears filled Kathleen’s eyes. One trickled down her cheek, and Judy kissed it away.
The two women had made love many times, in many ways, and in many places. Sometimes…sometimes, it was an experience that transcended the sexual. That night would be such a time. As mouths and hands explored, teased, and pleasured, there was an added resonance. Perhaps…perhaps it was when the joining of bodies reflected something unseen but intense. Their souls touched, humming in unison, enjoying the orgasmic pleasure of the spirit in a way that few people ever achieve. It was a night that neither woman would ever forget.
aaAA
The sound was muffled, but they heard it. Sophia laid the Sapphire Books novel she was reading across her chest, and looked over the top of her reading glasses at April, who lie snuggled beside her. Sophie knew April was still awake when a giggle caused April’s shoulders to shake.
“Sounds like our guests are having a good time,” Sophia said.
April sat up, the giggle turning into a quiet laugh. “Honey, if you’d come as close to kicking off as Judy did, I’d damn sure make certain you had a good time.”
Sophie laid her book and glasses on the nightstand. “I’m so glad they accepted our invitation. A weekend away from all that mess is what they need.”
April sighed and her lips tightened into a thin line. She moved her pillows so that she could lean against the headboard and then put her arm around Sophie. Sophie moved to a comfortable position they both knew, one they frequently enjoyed as they discussed their days before drifting to sleep. Sophie laid her head on April’s shoulder, April’s arm around her, and Sophia’s hand resting on her lover’s stomach.
“Sweetheart, we both know the world isn’t fair, but it really sucks when it happens to your friends,” April said.
“You at the newspaper, me as an attorney, yeah, we know life isn’t fair. It’s so wonderful when we go to the ranch…Judy and Kathleen…Dios mio…the purity of their life on the land…it gives me hope.”
April rubbed at her chin with her free hand. “Sophia, Judy and Kathleen have plenty of courage. Out on the ranch they know how to do things where I would be clueless, but I don’t think either one of them knows how to deal with a real scoundrel.”
Sophia laughed the deep, sexy laugh that still made April’s heart skip a beat. “Monday, Querida...Monday we’ll start looking into the past of this Guy Guyette.”
“If it looks like a rat, if it walks like a rat, if it smells like a rat, it’s probably a rat,” April said.
“I thought that was a duck,” Sophia said.
“I’m a writer. I can take literary license.”
This time, they didn’t hear a moan from the guest room. It was a muffled scream.
“Well, I’m certainly glad we put a good, solid bed frame in the guest room,” April said.
Sophia sat up abruptly, crossing her arms across her chest. “Hey! What do you mean you’d strive to please me if I nearly died?”
“Well, I would.”
“I don’t intend to cheat death if I can help it,” Sophia said.
April laughed. “The best part about sticking my foot in my mouth is what I have to do to make it up to you.”
April leaned into Sophia’s neck and nibbled, right in the spot she knew was so very, very sensitive. Sophia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, fully enjoying the sensation. Her right hand cupped April’s breast, and her fingers teased at the nipple until April mirrored Sophia’s sighs of pleasure. In a very short time, the two women neither heard nor noticed any further noises from the down the hall.
aaAA
Terry’s usually neat bedroom was in shambles. A trail of two sets of clothing started in the living room, outside the bedroom door, and continued as a Hansel and Gretel trail all the way to the bed. One of Pookie’s lace-up boots rested half-in, half-out the bookshelf by the desk and the second had been kicked away with such force, it would likely take some time for her to find where it now hid under the bed. Shirts, skirt, jeans, and underwear were scattered across floor, nightstand, and bed like the after-effect of a clothing bomb. The bed itself was equally as disrupted with sheets rumpled and covers askew. The two girls—young women actually—slept peacefully, oblivious to the mayhem surrounding them and both still as naked as the day they were born. That wasn’t totally true. Pookie still wore one eyebrow ring.
They had planned to go out the prior evening, to enjoy the short-term mobility and freedom allowed with the use of Kathleen’s car, loaned to Pookie for her visit with Terry while her benefactors enjoyed a weekend at April and Sophia’s. Those plans evaporated as soon as they were alone in Terry’s cozy duplex. A few easy kisses while sitting on the couch ignited a flame so intense, it surprised them both. What followed was a night of lovemaking more athletic than tender, but neither woman seemed to mind. They enjoyed the passion of youth, consumed by an intensity born as much of novelty and exploration as physical desire.
Pookie woke first. Her internal clock had grown accustomed to the early rising of life on the ranch. She lay for a long time, enjoying the feel of Terry’s warm breath against her bare breast as Terry slept, using Pookie’s tiny torso as a pillow. In time, other urges overcame the tenderness as she stared at this woman she’d grown to love so intensely. Pookie eased herself from under Terry, causing only a slight moan from the sleeping woman. Pookie padded on bare feet toward the tiny bathroom, where she enjoyed a long and pleasurable pee. Without thinking, she left the door open, not even conscious of the level of comfort she felt with her lover.
“Hurry up,” Terry mumbled from the bed. “The sound of you peeing is making me need to go.”
Pookie laughed as she flushed the toilet and washed her hands. “It’s all yours,” she said as she returned to the bed and crawled under the covers, slightly chilled from her naked journey to the bathroom.
Terry did close the door. Pookie smiled, oddly pleased at Terry’s continued shyness. When Terry returned to the bed, she too eagerly sought the warmth of the bed, and of the woman beside her.
“Wow! What a night!” Terry said.
“I’ll say,” Pookie responded. She stretched languidly, but stopped abruptly, mid-stretch. “Ouch!” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think I pulled a muscle in my back.”
Terry looked at Pookie, a concerned expression on her face. “Are you all right?”
Pookie laughed softly. “All right? I’m tee-totally awesome.”
Terry leaned on one elbow, looking at Pookie. “So, what do you want to do today?”
“It’s your home turf. What do you recommend?”
Terry’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Let’s tour the campus, and I want to introduce you to some people.”
“Sounds good. I’d like to meet your friends.”
“Well…them too…but…”
“Yes?” Pookie encouraged.
“I thought you might want to meet some of the professors in the art department. I know it’s Saturday, but there’s a show opening in the gallery at the museum. They should be there.”
“Art department? I thought you were in history and anthropology.”
“I am?”
A confused wrinkle appeared between Pookie’s eyes. “You’re friends with professors in the art department?”
“No, silly, but I thought you…”
An awkward pause followed. Pookie felt a sudden twitch of unease somewhere in her solar plexus.
“You thought I what?” Pookie asked.
Terry sat against the headboard and pulled the covers over her chest. “I thought…well…Pookie, you’re too smart not to want to go to college. And...and I graduate soon, but I know I can find work on campus, you know, if you were in school here.”
For an instant, Pookie envisioned a flash of her stepfather’s face.
“I’ve already made all the arrangements.” She heard his voice echo in her memory. “You’re registered at the community college. Time to do something practical and productive,” he said.
Pookie felt a twinge of the same tightness in her chest she’d known as her world turned upside down, when her stepfather tried to push her into a box of his making.
“I like where I am, what I’m doing now,” Pookie said.
“But you have such a talent, such a mind,” Terry insisted, leaning toward Pookie, as though her intensity could make her new lover see the light.
“Maybe. I’m using both right now. An artist couldn’t ask for a better place to create than the ranch, and I’m learning more than I ever learned in any school, about ranching, about firefighting.”
“Pookie, it’s just not practical. There’s no life for you there,” Terry said.
Somewhere inside Pookie, there was a big red button, one she hadn’t realized was there until Terry punched it. Even tempered as she normally was, the wave of anger, the feeling of being cornered and trapped, rose like bile in the throat of her soul.
“I think it’s up to me to decide where and how I want to live my life,” Pookie said, her eyes flashing with anger. She slid out of bed, and started gather the trail of clothing, donning individual items if she happened to locate them in the proper order.
“Pookie, please,” Terry said, her voice quavering as she fought off tears. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Pookie sat on the edge of the bed, lacing the one boot she’d been able to find. She turned to face Terry, her face flushed with anger. “I walked away from my home, my mother—” Her eyes glistened with tears. “Because I wouldn’t let my stepfather run my life. What makes you think I’ll let you take over where he left off?”
“Pookie, I…”
Pookie stood abruptly and stomped lopsidedly around the room. “Where’s my other fucking boot?”
“You…you kicked it under the bed,” Terry said, crying.
Pookie knelt by the bed and then bent to look beneath. She snagged the boot, carrying it without pulling it on her socked foot. She grabbed the duffle she had yet to unpack and headed for the front door.
“Pookie!” Terry called, the anguish in her voice penetrating Pookie’s wall of anger.
Pookie turned to face Terry, who now stood in the middle of her bedroom, the bedcover wrapped around her naked body.
“Terry, I…I lo— I really care about you, but I need some space. I need to think.”
Terry nodded in mute agreement. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came. She reached one hand toward Pookie’s retreating back. She continued to stand there as Pookie left the duplex, closing the door behind her.
Pookie didn’t know where she was going when she started Kathleen’s car. Without making a conscious decision, she drove through the university neighborhood and headed west on the state highway that led to the Canyon State Park, a place she’d visited with Terry. She drove, fumingly angry, at one point reminding herself to ease up on the gas when she realized she was driving eighty mph on the two-lane highway. She didn’t go into the park, instead pulling into a scenic overlook on the rim of the canyon, a geological wonder that appeared miraculously as one approached it over the flat prairie. From her vantage point, Pookie could look down miles of canyon, and see far below the river that had taken millenniums to cut this huge gash in the unbroken prairie. Pookie parked and walked to the overlook, a rail fence protecting viewers from the impressive drop at the canyon rim. She felt her anger settle and lessen as she watched a pair of red-tailed hawks swooping within the canyon. She enjoyed the rare experience of being able to watch a hawk from a position above the flying bird. They were magnificent.
As the anger simmered and calmed, another emotion bubbled to the surface. Unbidden, sobs clawed their way up Pookie’s chest, catching briefly in her throat, and then finding voice in a wail, a sound she’d only made one other time in her life. Only her father’s death had ever created this depth of grief and pain.
Pookie was confused. Yeah, the fight with Terry hurt, but like this…surely a little fight didn’t merit this level of grief. Then, in her mind, she saw a face...her mother. It was that moment when her stepfather threw her out of the house for refusing to go to the community college, his choice for her. Her mother had watched, sad-eyed and silent. She’d let her daughter go.
“Why, Mom? Why?”
Don’t ever lie to yourself, Pookie thought. The thought sounded very much like her father’s voice.
Pookie thought about her mother. Frankly, when Pookie was growing up, the innocuous woman hadn’t been much of a person to her. Her mother had always seemed remarkably able to be happy, whatever the circumstance. Pookie had lived for her father’s attention and approval, but she’d never worried about her mother. Her mother was just there, always meeting their needs, whether it was a clean house and clothes or a hot meal. Pookie just assumed she’d always be there for her.
“Why, Mom? Why?” Pookie asked the massive canyon before her. “Why did you let him do it?”
Pookie realized she hadn’t heard Terry’s voice as Terry laid out her plans for Pookie’s life. She’d heard her stepfather, planning and running her life, striving to humiliate and lessen her.
Terry had triggered the anger and grief. Pookie hadn’t even realized how angry she was at her stepfather. She had no clue as to how much she grieved the loss of her mother.
Judy and Kathleen won’t do that, Pookie thought. I have mothers I can count on.
Now that she reached the root of her emotions, Pookie recalled the conversation with Terry.
“Do I want to go to college now?” Pookie asked herself. “I don’t know…maybe.”
Pookie pulled her cell phone from her pocket. Terry picked up on the first ring.
“Pookie, come back,” Terry wailed.
“Okay,” Pookie said. “But on one condition.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell me what to do with my life?”
Pookie heard Terry give a shaky sigh. “Just so...just so, at least for now, you still want to spend at least a part of it with me.”
Pookie wiped drying tears from
her cheeks with her bare hand. “Yeah, Terry. That sounds good to me.”
Chapter Twenty
Old Times
The dust was thick in the air as they pushed the last of the cows and calves through the narrow gate and into the corrals. In the dry summer air, the milling cattle stirred and raised the dirt like a wrecking ball dropped in a talcum powder factory. Without exception, the cadre of riders now wore bandanas over noses and mouths, looking more as if they were preparing for a stagecoach robbery than sorting calves from cows. The calves called a cacophony of complaint at having been removed from the life of freedom that had been all they had ever known. The process was nothing new to the mama cows, but they complained loudly anyway.
Harold Kenton rode like the cowboy he’d always been. True, he was on the gentlest of the Kenton horses, and he’d quietly rode drag with Pookie rather than taking point or flank with the more experienced and hardy riders. He was still healing, but, beneath the bandana, he wore a grin that said clearly that he was happy to be back in the saddle.
When they first started the day’s work, Judy had watched Pookie as often as she could spare the attention. As boss and ramrod of the entire operation, she had to be aware of everything and everyone. She soon relaxed, realizing that in the herding of cattle, Pookie learned as quickly as she had any other task set before her. Besides, Harold was at her side, and it had been Harold, along with Judy’s father, who had taught her all there was to know about the cattle business. During the early process of gathering cattle, Kathleen had been there too, riding the new paint gelding they’d bought from the Strong Ranch in the Oklahoma Panhandle. Once the herd was gathered from the far corners of each pasture, Kathleen rode ahead, arriving at the house to help Martha and Julie Kenton prepare a meal for the crew.
Once the last of the cattle were in the pens and the gate closed, the cowhands dismounted, loosened saddle cinches, and gave horses the opportunity for a long cool drink from the stock tank. Horses were then tied in various shady spots for the long wait as the cowhands turned to the hard work of sorting cows from calves using the complex of alley, pens, and gates in the Handle P Ranch corral complex. Judy was responsible for assigning tasks, but there was no need. This team of friends and neighbors worked together often. Cowhands moved easily to positions staffing gates and pens. Only Pookie needed instruction, and they all had to adjust to Harold Kenton’s light duty assignments. Normally, he would be Judy’s second in command, watching the whole operation and ready to step into the breach if anything started to go wrong. Eye contact and a nod from Judy was all that was needed for Joe Bob to know he now filled that role.