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Subject: {ASSM} Sarah and the Stranger {Claire Kellis} (MF MFm Fm oral anal incest) [6/14]
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Date: Tue, 15 Jul 2008 13:10:02 -0400
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Sarah and the Stranger
a Novel by Claire Kellis

Fall, 2007



Chapter 6: _Maggie Arrives_



In midafternoon Sarah's breasts were tender with milk.  She found Joseph
sitting in his crib, playing with a stuffed animal.  Using the rail, he
pulled himself up.  A wide smile greeted her.  He jumped up and down.

"Mamma!  Mamma!"

"Joseph, Mommy loves you."

"Wuv you," he responded, tongue wagging.

Her heart thrilled.  She said again, "I love you."

"Wuv you, Mamma."

"Joseph, my little guy, I love you so much."

Dangling him from one hand, she stripped off a saturated diaper with the
other before placing him on the changing table.

Shaking a finger, she admonished, "Don't you roll off there!"  She 
turned away to change his sheet and blanket, both soaked, wishing once 
again she hadn't lost Jack's rubber sheet.

Returning to the baby, who lay in naked splendor, slowly kicking his 
heels, she said brightly, "You little darling, let's get you clean and 
dry."

She used a damp face cloth to wipe and clean his bottom, which was clear
of pimples.  Sprinkling baby powder in her hands, she soothed his 
crevices.  Finally she coated his bottom with Vaseline, proud he never 
had a diaper rash.  Her diapers were pre-folded.  Using her thumb to 
feel the end of the safety pin, she made sure to pin one carefully.

Joseph's mouth worked.  At last he essayed, "Dahwin?"  

She snatched him close and kissed his face.  "I love you, sweet baby."

"Mamma seet aby."

"Silly, you're the sweet baby."

She sat in the maple rocker and applied his mouth to her leaking nipple,
sighing with relief as he suckled powerfully.  She leaned her head to 
kiss his velvet cheek.  He stopped suckling and giggled.  She smiled in
return.  "Suck again," she ordered.

"'Gain," he repeated, laughing nasally.  She put the nipple back into 
his mouth.  A milk-like bubble blew from his nostril.  She had noticed 
he wasn't sucking as much lately.  She thought of Bud, waiting in the 
front bedroom, and smiled in anticipation.  Feeding her baby was good, 
but feeding a loving man made her tingle all over.

Holding Joseph in both arms under her breasts, his head in her hand, she
rocked steadily and sang,

"Sweet little boy, sleep will come soon;
"Eyes got so tired, full of the moon.
"Sweet little boy, sleep will come soon
"In Mamma's arms ... safe until June."

She added in a whisper, "And the rest of the year too."  She adored 
motherhood and this red-haired child.

Knowing he would not empty her, she reversed him to relieve the other 
breast.  He sighed deeply, eyes fading.  Soon she laid him tenderly in 
his crib, covered with a blanket.

She stood over him for a moment of reflection.  Some mothers allowed 
their babies to wallow in urine for hours, causing much pain for the 
child.  When she saw one fussy beyond the teething age, she was 
convinced the babe was not cared for properly.  A powerful maternal 
instinct made her own baby thrive with care and love, and singing the 
songs her mother taught her brought him obvious pleasure. 

"Sarah?" Bud called, ending her reverie.

She peered into the hall.  The man was standing inside the front door 
screen, peering out.  She heard it too: an approaching automobile.

The baby's eyes were tightly closed.  Suddenly apprehensive, she stepped
out along the hall.  "The sheriff?"

"Not unless he drives a tan LaSalle."

"Huh!  That sounds like Percy."  She came up behind him and peered over
his shoulder.

"Percy?"

"Percy Gilroy, the banker.  I think that's his car."

Bud turned slightly to study her face.  "Do I detect a note of dislike?"

"I despise him."

Bud's jaw dropped.  "Do you!"

"He ... he's oily and pig-eyed, always trying to get me alone."

"An old man?"

"Not so old.  In his forties, I think."  She heaved a sigh.  "The main 
thing is he's the one who wants to foreclose on us this fall."

"I see."

"Do you?"  Her eyes were solemn.  "You know about me and the doctor, but
that's different.  Doc Spencer is a real man, knows people like you know
engines.  All Percy knows is money and pinching butts.  I can't stand 
him at all."

As she spoke a tan coupe emerged from under the trees lining the 
driveway, made a U-turn on the grass of the long front yard and stopped,
facing away from the house, before re-entering the drive.  The passenger
door opened and a woman backed out, bending for a last word with the 
driver.  As soon as she straightened and slammed the door, the car 
lurched ahead and gunned into the drive.  The woman turned to look at 
the house.

Sarah said, "Knows he ain't welcome here.  She ... she almost looks 
familiar."

"You don't know her?"

"I'm thinking."

"A bank employee, maybe?"

"Not one I ever saw.  Skinny, ain't she?  Her dress looks funny."

"Can you tell that from here?"

Before Sarah could answer the woman waived, though not to them.  A 
moment later 14-year-old Jack appeared beside the house, strolling into
the yard.

The newcomer called loudly in a contralto voice, "Hi, there!  Are you 
one of the Martins?"  She stumbled towards the lad.

"Yeah, I'm Jack.  Who're you?"

"My name is Maggie.  If your mother is Sarah then we're cousins."

Softly in Bud's ear Sarah exclaimed, "Maggie!"

"You do know her," said Bud with equal quietness.

"Margaret Dorothy Thompson, if that's still her name."

Jack and the woman halted before each other.  After wiping an oily hand
on his jeans he extended it to her with a wide smile.  "Then you're my 
cousin all right."

She accepted the hand.  "How tall you are!  Your mamma and I had 
wonderful times when we were little.  I heard she birthed a boy but we 
never ..."  The woman's voice trailed off.  She staggered.  "Jack, I'm 
finally where people know me.  Maybe that's why I'm about to give it 
up."

Her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed backward on the grass 
with an audible thump.

"What, what --" began Jack, hands spread helplessly.

Bud slammed out the front door, followed closely by Sarah.  They came 
into the sunshine and looked down upon the woman with a torn dress and 
scuffed high-top shoes. Bending, they noticed she had not bathed in a 
long time.

Jeff ran from the barn, calling, "Who's that and what happened?"

Jack spun defensively toward his grandfather.  "I didn't do nothing.  
She fainted right before my eyes. Says she's Mom's cousin, Maggie."

Arriving, Jeff dropped to one knee and palmed her forehead.  "She's all
skin and bones, but I recognize her.  She's Verna and Carl's girl, 
Maggie.  What else did she say?"

"That I was tall."

"Hmph!  Let's get her into the house."

He lifted her body in his strong arms.

Sarah suggested, "Put her on my bed for now, but, Jack, slip a towel 
under her head.  She looks to have head lice."


* * *


By the time Jeff had born the newcomer into the house, Sarah had changed
her mind.

"Don't put her in my bed; she smells worse'n the pigpen."  Sarah tilted
a straight chair back against the wall.  "Sit her in this chair till I 
get water in the tub."

Jeff obeyed while Jack crowded close.

The lad said, "We going to bathe her first?"

"If you want to be useful, take her shoes off."  Leaning the woman 
forward, Sarah was already undoing the buttons on the back of her dress.

"Didn't she have a bag?" asked Jeff, standing back.

"I didn't see one," said Sarah.  "Did you, Bud?"

"She had nothing, not even a hat."

"Look here: not even a bra!" Sarah exclaimed, pulling the short sleeves
of the now open dress off Maggie's arms.

Jack held up a soiled shoe, his nose wrinkling.  "Yeww!  She's walked in
dog shit."

"Set her shoes on the front porch," Jeff ordered.  "You can clean them 
up later.  That looks like an infection on her big toe."

Sarah said, "Dad, lift up her legs so I can get this past her butt."

When dress and underpants had cleared her buttocks, Jeff returned the 
unconscious woman to her seat and slid the last garments down her legs 
and off her feet.  The two men studied her body with interest.

Sarah said to Bud, "Don't let her fall out'n the chair," before turning
away to the bathroom.  The sounds of water falling in the bathtub 
floated across the hall.  The naked woman lay slumped in the cocked 
chair.  Jack returned from the porch and stood over her, fascinated by 
the bruises and scratches on the sallow skin.  He said sympathetically,
"She's had a hard time, ain't she, Grandpa?"

"Looks like it," Jeff agreed, "but she set out on that course."

"Huh?  What course?"

"The hard time course."

Bud said, "I take it she's a relative of the Martins."

"Not the Martins," Jeff responded.  "She's the daughter of Carl, my 
youngest brother.  He and Verna had a farm south of Faresville, but they
gave up and moved back east a couple years ago.  I'm curious why Maggie
came to us."

"Apparently as a last resort."

Jeff grunted.

Jack asked, "What's a 'hard time course?'"

Jeff studied his grandson a moment before answering, "When she was a 
teenager, she ran away from home.  We found out she'd gone to Chicago."

"Did she get a job?"

"Yeah.  It's been called a job."

"Doing what?"

Jeff's eyes twinkled.  "Ask her.  I'd like to hear what she says about 
it."

Jack looked from one man to the other.  "Bud, you know what he means, 
don't you?"

With a smile Bud held up his hands.  "Pretend I'm in Rome."

"You're as bad as he is!"

"That's what I mean."

With a sigh of exasperation Jack returned his attention to the woman.  
"She's got little tits but her nipples are almost as big as Mom's -- the
outer part anyway."

"She's skinny," said Jeff, adding, "nothing that a couple weeks' good 
eating won't fix.  What do you think about this?"  He leaned over the 
woman and separated her labia with two fingers in the thick pubic hair.

Jack craned his neck.  "Her pussy?"

Bud huffed.  "Well equipped, isn't she?"

"I noticed it when I lifted up her butt."

Jack was puzzled.  "What is it?"

"This pink roll.  It's what you call a clit and a half -- the same on a
woman as a nine-inch cock on a man."

Jack was goggle-eyed.

Sarah appeared at the door.  "You talking about Maggie's button?  She 
always had a really big one.  Drove her crazy: she couldn't walk without
tickling it.  The water's ready.  Bring her on, Dad."

Jeff gathered Maggie up into his powerful arms, where she seemed hardly
more than a child, and followed his daughter down the hall.

Jack sprang after them but paused to look at Bud.  "Ain't you coming?"

Bud returned his stare.  "Do you think I should?"

The lad grinned.  "As Grandpa says, it's the best show in town."

Bud grunted.  "I am curious if Sarah would object."

"Mamma?  Huh!"

The lad hurried into the bathroom.  Bud followed more leisurely.  He 
found Maggie eased into water up to her nipples with Jeff upholding her
lolling head.

Sarah's housedress and slip were in the process of coming off over her 
head.  "Here, Jack," she said, standing forth nude as the bruised woman
in the tub, "lay them on my bed."

As the lad passed him, Bud muttered, "I guess she won't."

Jeff let the woman's head back gently against the wall and stood up to 
remove his overalls.  Sarah took his place, kneeling beside the tub, 
dipping out soapy water and letting it run into her cousin's hair, 
careful to shield the closed eyes.

Jeff said, "Bud, she's almost as bruised-up as you was."

Before he could respond Sarah said, "Yeah, but they's a big difference.
Bud didn't stink near so bad."

Jeff was unbuttoning his shirt.  "You mean women stink worse'n men?"

"I think she's been wearing the same clothes a lot longer than Bud did."

"Could be."  Jeff dropped his shirt atop the other garments on the floor
and looked around at Bud.  "Don't guess you recall changing clothes with
nobody?"

"No, I don't."

"Wonder who beat her up so," mused Sarah, wringing out the wet hair.

"Ask her when she wakes up," retorted Jeff.  "God damn!"

"Too hot for you?"  Sarah grinned at him.

Jeff was climbing into the tub gingerly.  He looked meaningfully at Bud.
"Never let a woman draw your water."

Sarah's lip curled.  "You didn't say you was gonna get in the bath with
her."

"Best way to wash somebody who's out cold."  Jeff raised the woman's 
legs and slid his own beneath them.  Finally the old man and young woman
sat facing each other, her legs bent around his hips, shoulders sagging
against the faucet-less end of the tub, head thrown back to the wall, 
slack mouth fallen open.  He began to soap a washrag.

Sarah glanced up at Bud and shook her head.  "Might've known, given half
a chance, he'd get 'twixt the legs of any woman that came on the place.
Daddy, you said it yourself: she's out cold!"

"Yeah, and I'm bracing her."

"That what you call it when your cock jumps up?"

"Damn 'fit ain't!"  Jeff grinned widely and winked at Bud.  "Happens 
every time next to pussy.  Wash her face, daughter.  Get that mud off'n
her cheek."

"Already did.  It ain't mud; it's a bruise.  Pull her to you and I'll 
wash her back."

With one hand the old man pulled the young woman forward by one arm 
until her head lolled on his shoulder.  His opposite elbow jiggled.  The
washrag had dived between her legs.

Sarah muttered, "These bruises are awful big to come from a beating.  
Bud, you think maybe she fell out of a car?"

The standing man craned to examine Maggie's back.  "Possibly, but did 
you notice between her legs?  Hard to imagine a fall bruising her inside
both thighs."

Sarah snorted.  "What bruises you there is a man's bony knees.  I guess
somebody's about fucked her to death."

"'Fucked her?'" repeated Jack, leaning avidly over his mother's body.  
"But she didn't act like she was in trouble."

Sarah said dryly, "She wouldn't call fucking trouble.  What do you 
think, Bud: is she bad off?"

"Well, she didn't walk like anyone with broken bones.  I think Jeff's 
prescription was right: plenty of good food."

"And bedrest.  Well, we can --  Daddy, what in the world are you doing?"

Jeff had thrown both the woman's arms over his shoulders.  His own hands
had dipped into the water to clasp her buttocks.  Though the bathwater 
was cloudy with sloughed skin grains, obviously he was rotating his hips
rhythmically, causing it to slosh back and forth in the tub.

He grinned at his daughter.  "Best way to clean out a pussy."

Sarah's eyes were huge.  "I can't believe you'd fuck a passed-out 
woman!"

"She's coming around," Jeff retorted complacently.  "I can feel it 
nipping."

"You're supposed to be washing _all_ of her, Daddy, not just her 
insides."  Sarah crawled to the opposite end of the tub, lifted one of 
Maggie's feet and began fiercely scrubbing its bottom.

"Oh!" said the recently unconscious woman, lifting her head.  "Oh-oh!"
She glared at Sarah and cried, "Don't tickle me while I'm tricking!  
Wait your turn."  Her eyes crossed, assuming an internal focus.  "Oh, 
yeah, Mr. Big Shoulders, pop it to me!  Fuck me like I'm your sweet 
little niece."

"His niece?" said Jack thoughtfully.  "She _is_, ain't she?"

Indeed Jeff increased the pace.  Maggie, lips tightly puckered, began 
kissing his face.  Her torso and hips undulated in counterpoint to his 
rhythm.  Intent on her chore, Sarah found the woman's other foot but 
scrubbed it gently, ignoring the splashing water.

Jack winced away as a gobbet of water landed on his shirt, but his eyes
on Bud were wide in awe.  He grinned brightly.  "Fucking in the tub is 
messy."

Bud had stepped back to the doorway.  "The shower is better."

"We don't have one."  Jack's chin rose at the idea.  "Bet I could make 
one, though."

Behind him the copulators were climaxing in a frenzy of splashes and 
howls, male and female in close harmony.  Jack spun to watch in time for
Sarah to back against him.  His hands slipped under her arms and 
immediately closed on her breasts.  Milk dribbled.  He withdrew one to 
lick the palm.

In the tub Maggie, breathing hard, let herself sag against the wall and
the back of the tub.  Between gasps she grinned around at her audience,
her gaze settling fondly on the naked man still between her legs.  "I 
see you've learned a new trick, Uncle Jeff."

Suddenly her eyes grew huge.  "God, I'm dying of thirst!"


* * *


Maggie's sexual enthusiasm had sapped the remainder of her strength.  
Jeff had to lift her from the tub, careful not to drop the slick body.
He held her erect while Sarah and Jack dried her with bathtowels.

Noticing the lad's aim, Jeff laughed.  "You can't get a pussy totally 
dry, boy."

Jack blushed but Maggie smiled it at him.  "Pay no attention, cousin.  
It still tingles."

Jack took one of the woman's arms, Jeff the other.  With Sarah skipping
ahead to turn down the bed, they walked her nude along the hall into the
bedroom.  Sarah, likewise nude, got into the bed with Maggie and pulled
the bruised woman's shoulders over her belly, presenting a leaky nipple
to her mouth.

"You said you was thirsty, Maggie."

The newcomer looked up at her with wide eyes and licked dry lips.  "You
want me to suck your milk?"  With a crooked grin she looked around at 
the interested male trio.

"I got too much milk, Maggie.  My family helps me keep up with it."  
Sarah added with a shrug, "Okay, I admit I like the feeling."

"They say as long as it keeps flowing you don't have periods."  Maggie 
took a breath and grinned smugly.  "Lucky I don't need it for that."

"You don't?"

"Haven't had one in years."

"Then you ain't in the family way."

"No."  Again she looked at the men.  "Not since I got real sick a few 
years back.  I'll tell you about it later."  She grinned.  "But I love 
mother's milk and big soft boobs.  Wouldn't mind having some myself if 
my belly didn't have to swell up first."

Her mouth closed on Sarah's nipple while a hand rose to squeeze the 
other breast.

Jack gaped, hand slipping into his pocket.  Jeff, still naked, leaned 
over the two women and stroked Maggie's moist back, including the curve
of her buttocks.

Sarah grinned up at him.  Her eye dropped to his rising manhood.  
"Feeling younger, are you, Daddy?"  Maggie sighed nasally and rolled her
hips so that one knee fell between those of Sarah, who added less 
affably, "You know she's tuckered.  Let her wet her throat."

Jeff looked around at Bud, standing in the doorway, then down at his own
nakedness.  "Guess I oughta put something on."  He backed away from the
bed.

"Jack," said Sarah, "pull that sheet up over us.  I'm going to stay with
Maggie till she falls asleep.  She's wore out, poor thing.  Why don't 
you all leave us be?"

After spreading the sheet, Jack followed the other two into the hall.

Maggie's eyes fluttered closed though she continued to suckle.  When she
emptied the breast, her neck relaxed.  Regular breathing revealed that 
she was fast asleep.

After a few minutes Sarah carefully disengaged herself and left the 
newcomer sleeping on her side.  She threw on a robe and quit the room, 
gently closing the door.  Joseph was waking up and beginning to fret.  
Fortunately Maggie had left one breast full.


* * *


At supper Sarah fed her baby finely chopped table food and finally put 
him again to the breast.  Maggie remained sleeping soundly in Sarah's 
bedroom.

"She ought to come to the table," Jeff groused.  "You can tell she's 
starved."

Sarah said, "I got some chicken soup for when she wakes up.  Right now 
she needs rest mor'n anything else."

"You'll take care of her?"

Sarah blinked.  "Sure.  Why not?"

Jack smiled hugely.  "She's gonna stay here?"

"For a while," his mother answered.  "What's got into you?"

Jeff grunted.  "It's called 'fresh meat.'  Jack, I got to have a talk 
with you."

"About what?"

"Women.  Practically none of 'em's as friendly as your ma and Maggie."

"They ain't?  Why ain't they?"

"Contrariness, far as I can tell.  But if you expect it of them when you
leave the farm, you'll get in bad trouble."

"With who?"

"The women out there, some, but mainly their men.  The men'll kill you."

"They will?  What for?  I ain't gonna hurt the women!"  The lad's eyes 
flashed indignantly.

"You get too friendly with one and they'll call it hurt.  Tell him, 
Bud."

The stranger swallowed his mouthful.  "Your grandfather is right.  Women
demand polite handling."

"What's that mean?"

Bud's expression showed mild amusement.  "Basically it means treating 
them like men at first: with respect.

"Like _men_?  Wha'do they want that for?"

"The real reason ..."  Bud glanced at the other two adults and shrugged.
"You're a farm boy.  You've probably noticed a female animal playing 
hard-to-get or two males fighting over a female."

Jack nodded slowly.

Bud continued, "It's called _natural selection_.  Nature always tries to
improve the breed and for mammals the female has that responsibility.  
She tries to mate with the best male she can find.  She has to look over
a lot of them before she decides."

Jack's eyes were distant.

Jeff challenged, "Where'd you hear that?"

"A college course called _Behavioral Science_.  Most of it was crap but
I thought _natural selection_ explained a lot of things."  Bud winked at
Jack.  "Especially about girls and boys."

"'Contrariness!'" repeated Sarah, sneering at her father.  "It's men 
that's contrary: getting killed, moving away to the east."  Her gaze 
swept around the table to settle on Jack.  "Throwing out perfectly good
boiled potatoes."

Eyes lowered, Jack muttered, "I hate boiled potatoes."

Bud coughed into his fist.

Jeff regarded Bud askance.  "You can sure remember a lot, not to know 
your own name!"

Bud sighed heavily.  "It's as if I'm waiting for something to remind 
me."

"Like what?" asked Jack.

No one answered.  Jeff pushed back his chair.  "You added something 
tasty to the stew, Daughter."

"I found some thyme.  Wait a minute, Daddy.  I want to figure out an 
answer."

"How's that?"

"What're we going to tell Maggie about Bud?"

Her audience was silent a moment.  Jeff looked at Bud appraisingly.  "We
got to tell her something."

Bud said, "I've been wondering how you'd introduce me."

"He's a hired hand ..." Sarah began thoughtfully, "who's just learning 
to farm."

"That's too thin," said Jeff.  "Then she starts on Bud: where you from?
What's your real name?  Ever been married?"  His attention returned to 
his daughter.  "Tell her the truth."

Sarah grimaced.  "She'll think what you all did."

"Maybe not if we leave out the jail suit."

The woman's eyes brightened.  "She might not know of that prison break.
Can we do that?  Can you forget them stripes, Jack?"

The lad shrugged.  "Sure."  But his eye cut speculatively around to the
stranger.


* * *


Maggie nearly slept the clock around.  Sarah woke her at dawn, again in
late morning, helped her to the bathroom, put her to breast and fed her
chicken soup.  On the second occasion the bowl contained larger chunks 
of meat.

In late afternoon while settling Joseph, the only male left in the 
house, down for his nap, she heard the toilet flush.  Leaving the baby 
asleep in his crib, she went to her bedroom.  Maggie was sitting on the
edge of the bed, wearing an old bathrobe.  Her eyes rose to the woman in
the doorway.  Tears streaked her cheeks.

Sarah flung herself to the bedside and took the distressed woman into 
her arms.  "Are you hurting, honey?  Might have some aspirin left."

Maggie tucked her head in the other's neck.  "It's not something aspirin
can fix."

Sarah hesitated.  "Can you tell me about it?"

Maggie sighed deeply.  "It's all gone, Sarah.  _They're_ all gone."

"What?  Who?"

Maggie raised her head and smiled slightly through her tears.  "My 
childhood, I guess."

"Wha'do you mean?"

"It's so sad, Sarah.  You really want to hear it?"

"You probably need to tell it."

"Thank you, honey.  You're such a sweet cousin!"

"Tell me."

"I was ..."  The woman sniffed and wiped her cheeks with the bedsheet.
"I was staying in Decatur with a guy named --  Who cares about his name?
It happened just like the song -- you know _Bill Bailey_?  He threw me 
out with nothing but a fine-tooth comb, so I decided to take my chances
coming back home.  It was only thirty miles, but I couldn't get any kind
of a ride.  Can you believe every car that passed already had a woman in
it?  So I walked.  And I cut through the fields and got lost.  Even lost
the comb!  Took me almost a week, sheltering in barns.  Fell out of a 
hayloft in the dark when I needed to pee, which is why I'm so bruised 
up.  What an ordeal, you don't know, honey!

"When I got there, thought I had the wrong house, it was so hidden in 
overgrowth.  Finally recognized the big barn Daddy made for his horses.
Mamma's flowerbeds had shriveled and her vegetable garden was full of 
weeds.  The windows were cracked or broken out.  The front porch steps 
were rotten and the front of the house was one enormous spider web.

"I called out, loud as I could, but nobody answered.  The backdoor knob
came off in my hand but the door opened.  The house was empty: no 
furniture, no curtains, only cobwebs and dust.

"And memories.  You remember when we were kids, how Daddy loved fun, how
Mamma made the kitchen hum and buzz?"

Sarah squeezed her.  "Yeah, I remember."

"But everything was gone.  The rooms stank of mold and rot.  Bats were 
hanging in my bedroom upstairs.  Mamma's fancy wallpaper was falling off
the wall where rain had blown in a broken window.  No electricity, so no
water for a bath or even to drink.  It looked like no one had lived 
there in years."

"I guess they ain't.  Your folks lost the place in --"

Maggie held up her hand.  "I heard.  I was tired and hungry and 
obviously couldn't spend another moment there.  I thought about Uncle 
Jeff.  He always seemed to have a soft spot for me."

Sarah sniffed.  "Nothing soft about his spot!"

Maggie giggled.  "That's right.  A hard spot is what he really had.

"I'd heard about you getting married and moving off his place.  Hoped 
maybe I could stay with him for a while."  She giggled again.  "Funny, I
thought maybe he'd give me a bath while I did the same for him.  So I 
got back out on the road.  It's strange how fate works.  After hitching
for a week with no luck, hadn't gone a hundred yards when a LaSalle came
along and stopped right beside me.  A LaSalle!"

Sarah's lip curled.  "Only one LaSalle around here."  

Now Maggie was more cheerful.  "It had a pretty man in it by himself.  
He says, 'Miss, you need a ride?'

"I says, 'If you don't mind a girl who's been walking a week.'

"'A pretty girl with pretty eyes walking a week?  That's hard to 
believe.  Get in the car.'

"He doesn't have to tell me twice.  The car smells new and he smells of
cologne.  He's a sort of pinched-looking john with a nasal voice in a 
high-priced suit.  When we're rolling down the road, smooth as a dream,
he says, 'Walking for a week?'

"I says, 'Was just visiting Carl Thompson's farm.  My folks aren't 
there.  My name is Maggie Thompson.'

"'Nice to make your acquaintance, Maggie.  I am Percy Gilroy.  Where can
I drop you?'

"'Jeff Thompson is my uncle.'

"'Jeff Thompson?'

"I can tell he don't care much for Uncle Jeff.  I say, 'I'm sure he'll 
take me in.'

"'So you're a local girl returning home.  You must have been gone quite
a while!'

"That makes me sigh and say, 'Almost eight years.'

"'You need to catch up on the Faresville scene.  Carl and Verna Thompson
moved to Massachusetts to be with his brother about three years ago.  
Over a year ago Jeff Thompson gave up his place and moved in with his 
daughter, Sarah.'

"'How do you know all this?'

"'I, ah, manage the bank that bought both farms ... for a reasonable 
price.'  I take another gander at him and think he looks just like a 
big businessman.  He goes on, 'I thought you should know, so you won't 
worry.'

"He's a bank manager!  If I don't smell so bad, I'd go straight for his
cock.  'Golly,' I say, 'you're an important man!'

"He chuckles.  'Around Faresville, I guess.'"

Sarah muttered, "Not half as important as he thinks he is."

"You don't like him?  A man like that can solve all your problems."

"Maybe so, if you can stand him."

"Stand him?  Heck, honey, he's just a man, a cock on legs.  What's to 
stand?"

Sarah sniffed.  "Scrawny legs and moustache.  If he had a beard like 
Daddy and wa'n't such a know-it-all, maybe we could get along -- and if
he wa'n't about to foreclose on this place too."

Maggie sighed.  "Anyway, he says, 'Maybe you ought to think of asking 
your cousin for help.'

"Isn't much to think about.  I say, 'Okay, take me there, please.  And 
thank you, Percy, for the ride and explaining about my family.'

"I look him over good.  He has beady little eyes and a weak chin and his
mouth is too narrow.  I always liked big lips on a man.  They feel so 
good ... well, you know.  But I'll tell you this: Percy's what Mama 
Belle used to call a 'deep john,' one you could dip your living out of 
for years.  I could sure stand one of them, s'long as he kept paying my
bills.  When we get to your place, he says, 'May I call on you again, 
Miss Maggie?'"

Sarah's eyes narrowed.  "Wha'd you say?"

"'Yes!'  you betcha!  He tells me his telephone number.  I'm to let him
know when I get my strength back."

Sarah smiled wryly.  "Something for you to look forward to."

Maggie smiled in return, perhaps missing the sarcasm.

"At least you're feeling better."  Sarah rose from the bed and opened a
dresser drawer.  She turned with a small cotton garment in her hand.  
"Here's some panties I had before Tim put Jack in me.  They may sag a 
little but you can wear them, I think.  You can also have a couple 
dresses I been keeping from then.  We're plain out of money, Maggie, so
we can't buy you a bra or material for new clothes."

The newcomer squeaked with pleasure when she pulled on the underpants.
"They fit fine.  Guess my ass grew.  And so far I haven't needed a bra 
much."  Her face became serious.  "Tim's your husband.  Was that him 
yesterday watching Jeff in the bathtub with me?"

"No, it wa'n't.  Tim got killed fooling with a busted thresher."

"Got killed!"

"One of them things that happens on a farm."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear."

"He's been gone almost two years.  Try on this dress.  If it fits, keep
me company while I make supper.  If you feel up to it."

"I feel good.  Who was that in the bathroom with us?"

"Bud.  We call him Bud.  I guess he shouldn't've watched you and Daddy,
but the Martin farm ain't much on modesty."

Maggie searched her cousin's face.  "And you own it now, don't you?"

"Yeah, while Percy holds off.  Tim was an only child."

"What happened to the clothes I was wearing yesterday?"

"They're drying on the line."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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