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I slipped the satchel from my shoulder with the few papers I had left in it, undid my heavy duffel coat, and tossed it into the corner, and in one swe...p, lifted my heavy wool sweater and underlying t-shirt over my head and threw it onto the discarded duffel coat.The disappearance of the warmth to be met by the sudden cold, emboldened by the surge of sexual wantonness, made my nipples pop, I could see them point straight out proud in front of me, his eyes were huge and round as he saw these. I Ð or perhaps She Ð fought to focus not on the heat that was flushing my skin, not on the twisting in the pit of my stomach, not on the fact I could practically taste him in the air. But on other things, intangible and out of reach. Summer. Birds. Trees. Parks. Anything to escape the room. To delay what I hoped was inevitable. To please him.I crept down from the pinnacle. Moment by moment somehow cooling the need inside me. Drifting away. Back to the masquerade ball. Seeing him on the sideline. After my mother's death, my Dad languished for several months. Idid everything I could to console him and, gradually, he began to come outof his depression. Somewhere in this period, I suggested moving my bedinto his room so as to be near him. He seemed to like that idea. Therewere times during this period when he would have depressing dreams andnightmares and I would leave my bed and crawl in with him and hold himclosely. He never objected to this and allowed me to massage his chest andface in. They had cut across the ranch instead of following the regular trail, and they had reached a deserted part of the range. Suddenly, Caleb called out, "CUT OUT THE NOISE, FELLERS! I HEAR SUMPTHIN' FUNNY! LISTEN FER A MINUTE!" It took a few moments but Caleb's influence was strong enough to get all of the singing and laughter to stop. He listened carefully and tried to identify the strange sound he heard. Then he had it. He recognized the sound as that made by running cattle. Caleb shouted,.
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