Butnow, she had told me about her boyfriend and her son, Ihad confessed my marriage and my daughter, now onlythree. Yet all I wanted to do was ask her...to come withto somewhere where I could privately enjoy a week ortwo in her presence. So the nerves were from my own battle with myself forcontrol of my desires. Then I remembered the advice Ihad gotten, from one of those Internet books about howto get into any girl’s, well… bedroom. I brushed herknee with my hand in a well disguised. "Can't talk," she said, edging away."Why not?" He'll get mad?" She rubbed sand on her iron pot."Who, your father?" I jerked my thumb back up the hill toward the preacher who was warming up for another session, calling in the lambs as he said loudly, waving his long arms."No," she said. "He ain't. Uncle, that's what he is, sort of. Our folks died, got a fever las' winter." Sorry," I said. "He treat you all right?"She was silent and hurried back to the wagon and her reedy singing before I could. More

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