Chapter 15

The big hound's hackles lifted, and he rumbled a warning, but he kept his eyes fixed warily upon the porch, and upon Heather as she finished redressing Grady Cordell. She pawed for her discarded dress and snatched it back over her head, smoothing frantically at the wrinkles.

Arley and her sister came out of the woods, and she saw the bloody squirrels dangling from his hand. Honey had the cat and cream look on her face, and Heather knew very well that the girl had been playing sex games again, just as she knew that the man didn't have to force Honey anymore. The kid was becoming impossible.

And how about herself? What about the older, wiser sister whose duty it was to keep them both out of trouble? Heather chewed at her lip and held out a reluctant hand for the gray fox squirrels.

Arley shook his head. "You'd just screw up the skinnin' of 'em. You look a mite flushed, city woman. You ain't been playin' games with the po-lice?"

"Just took off his boots and opened his shirt," Heather said. "It was so hot."

He took the squirrels to the chopping block and dropped them there. Rifle slanted over one shoulder, Arley came back to the porch and took hold of the handcuffs to give them a savage jerk. Grady's mouth tightened, but he didn't cry out, and Arley said, "Reckon you didn't fuck around with them cuffs, neither. Fire up the stove, sis, your turn to cook dinner."

Honey pouted. "But I can't cook as good as Heather, and after we . . . "

Propping his rifle against the woodpile, Arley flicked out a knife; its blade was thin and sharp. He slipped its point into the belly of a squirrel and drew it up. He said to Honey, "Don't get the idea your ass is made out'n gold, sis. You got other things to do besides screw."

Honey stamped on across the porch and into the house, and Heather frowned after her. As Arley skinned the squirrels, he said, "You, Grady-I ain't done with you, by a long shot. But, you know, you just about the luckiest man in the county. I got me six fox squirrels here, and all of 'em head-shot clean. I swear, I still don't see how that bullet only grazed you. All you Cordells must have cast-iron heads."

"Hard enough," Grady said, his bandaged head swinging toward the other man's voice. "I'll make you a trade, Arley-and you know me for a man of my word. You take off, soon's your brother gets back-if he gets back-and I give my word I won't come after you for a full day. That ought to give you time to get a far piece from here."

Arley chuckled, the noise not a cheerful one, but arrogant. "And leave you and these here city women alive? I ain't no flat-out fool, Grady. More I fuck these girls, the more I'm decidin' to take 'em with us. Ol' Artis will sure appreciate ass like they got, and I ain't never been above sharin' with my own brother. But you, Grady, I 'spect the river'll hide you right good. If I don't have to swap you for Artis, that is. The sheriff trap Artis, I'm goin' to toll you out like a Judas goat, so you can lead him back safe. And I always got the women for boot."

Grady shifted his arms, and the handcuffs rattled against the post. "Never been easy to fool you, Arley. Else I'd got you a long time back for makin' whiskey."

Grinning, Arley brought the skinned meat to the porch and handed it to Heather. "Don't you forget it, Grady. I always been too slick for you, so if you hopin' to slip out on me, just remember you ain't been able to catch me all you life. City woman, carry the meat in to sis and bring me a jar of corn."

Inside, Heather said to Honey, "Do you have to act like the perfect bitch?"

"Oh, nobody's perfect," Honey answered. "Not even you."

Flushing, Heather hurried back out with the whiskey and the dipper filled with water. Arley took the jar and screwed off the top, he gulped a huge drink and she gave him the water for chaser. He drank that off, too, and said, "You're learnin', redheaded woman. You tell the law here all about how your husband done run off with some money? I mean, ain't no sense in ol' Grady thinkin' you just a HP innocent woman. Why, hell, policeman, this here city gal has got her a whole thousand dollars hid, and there's some real gangsters after it."

Drinking again, Arley kicked off his brogans and propped his bare feet on the porch steps. Instinctively, Heather compared him with Grady; she had done it with both these men, although she'd never thought to see the day when she'd come to that. So she had something to go on, a pitting of one man against the other, at least in their styles of lovemaking.

She corrected herself hastily-not lovemaking where Arley was concerned. With him, it was more a hate making, a put-down of all imagine city women, the kind who had evidently scorned his crude ways and obscene approach. But with Grady Cordell-she glanced quickly at the bound man and felt warmth in her face, felt the instinctive tremble of her nipples as they went erectile.

The gratification she had gotten with Grady was as big as his penis, deeply fulfilling and all-encompassing. It had been more for her than the simple assuaging of passion, although that had been tremendous, too. But it had also been tender and powerful. She thought of the precious intimacy of his tongue licking over her stiffened clitoris, of the incomparable thrill his ardent mouth had given her.

It hadn't been dirty; it had not been a thing of shame, nothing to hide or deny. Heather felt very proud of it, and even now there was a leftover tingle in her thighs, a residual delight that nestled within the still-damp confines of her mound. Had Grady been shocked by the dirty words she had hurled at him while he was mouthing and chewing upon her pussy? If so, he had given no sign of it, but she wished she could see his eyes.

His seeing eyes, she thought, not a blinded, expressionless pair of useless windows turned one way. Oh, please, she prayed, let Grady Cordell regain his sight, just let it be shock that's keeping him blind now.

Arley said, "Me and sis had a real fuckin' down to the river, so I can't do much 'til after I get some lead back in my pencil. Fried squirrel and corn whiskey ought to do it. Too bad you can't get you none of this here city ass, Grady."

"Too bad," Grady said, and turned to try to get comfortable.

Heather said, "Can't you let him free of the post?"

Arley cocked his head and squinted. "Come dinner time, reckon I might. I'll run a string to him, though. Never figured to get snapped by your own cuffs, did you, Grady?"

"Never did."

Taking another swallow of liquor, Arley said, "You mighty damned agreeable, all of a sudden. Gettin' your eyes shot out do that? Or it could be you're plannin' something with Heather here-like tryin' to save your hide. Never mind, Grady, never mind. Blind as you are and citified as she is, the quicksand or the mud holes will get you sure as ol' billy hell if Bigdog don't get you first."

She wanted to take Grady's hand, to comfort him as best she could, but she knew better than to reach for him. Not with Arley Santee anywhere near, not now and not yet, but Heather was conscious of a new determination building within her. Before Grady came, she had been without hope, and it seemed odd to have it rekindling in her heart now, especially since he was helpless in his blindness and only an added burden.

But he was something else. He was love and he was tenderness, and together they could think of a way out for themselves and for her sister.

Arley was laughing, and she pulled her mind back to concentrate upon what he was saying, as the odor of frying meat wafted from the house and engulfed them. He said, "Never figured no Chicago gangsters to be after a whole thousand dollars dropped in my lap just like two fine pieces of ass done, neither. Where you reckon they at, with them machine guns and all?"

Heather watched Grady's face, but the man didn't show anything. Something else for him to accept about her, she thought, a thing more than some personal idiosyncrasy like using bad words at the height of her passion. Grady was a cop, and if he knew that the thousand dollars was really a hundred thousand. . . .

"Food's done," Honey called from inside the house, and Heather sighed in relief at the change of subject. She was ravenous, too, despite the heat of the day and the mugginess in the air. All the sex, she thought, it stimulated the appetite, among other things.

Arley was eating heartily, tearing the meat off bone with his long, sharp teeth, when Heather filled two plates and asked about feeding Grady. "Might's well," he answered, and still gnawing at a leg bone, rose and followed her to the porch.

He unlocked one side of the handcuffs so that Grady could sit up, then he snapped them again and ran a length of rope through the chain and back around the post. "You ain't goin' nowheres like that," he said, "even if you could see good. You got to piss, I'd say do it off the end of the porch, 'cause ol' Bigdog won't cotton to you out in his yard. Feed him, city woman, go on and feed the pore ol' blind man."

After Arley went back inside, Heather sat on the porch edge and put a piece of meat into Grady's hand. When he finished that, she fed him greens and field peas a bite at a time, and guided his fingers to the corn bread, the extra bit of squirrel.

He said, "A blind man ain't much, that's for sure."

"You won't be blind," Heather said. "I'm wishing too hard."

He dropped his voice, "The stolen money Arley was talkin' about; a trick to keep from hurtin' you girls anymore?"

Heather said, "N-no; it's true enough, and I'll tell you about it when I get the chance. But it might help us all, when the time comes." She couldn't help lifting her hand and touching his cheek then, to comfort him. She still had it there when Arley came out.

"Ain't that pretty?" he said. "You gettin' horny, Grady? Must be this city pussy is gettin' to you, but don't you worry; I'll take care of it for you." He pushed a bare foot against Heather's breast, and she shrank back. Frowning, Arley said, "Might be you two been fuckin' already, while I was down to the river huntin'. I'll see to that after I nap a spell. And, Grady, don't get no wild hairs up your ass about jumpin' on me. "I'll be sleepin' out there by my dog, with one eye open and one hand on my gun."

He shoved his toes hard into Heather's breasts again, and she flinched. He said, "Go on in the house and help clean up. If you ain't gettin' enough screwin', I got somethin' in mind for you."

She watched him go across the yard and lie down in the shade of the chinaberry tree, head propped on his arm and the rifle under his hand.

Bigdog bellied down on the clay beside Arley, watchful, hating them all with his yellow eyes.

After she and Honey tidied up the dishes and came out for cooler air, her sister said softly, "How is he? Looks like he'd have a big one."

"Honey!" Heather said, outraged.

"Don't put me on," Honey said. "You're not all uptight about sex any more, and I'll just bet you and the fuzz made it while Arley and me were swinging down in the woods."

"Hush," Heather warned, glancing at Arley asleep in the yard. "Grady-well, he'll help us to get away."

"How?" Honey asked. "Bigdog isn't a guide dog."

"Never mind, he'll help. And, Honey, I wish you wouldn't be so free and easy."

"No choice, big sister, when Arley says frog, I make like a top. If he really decides to wipe somebody out, I don't want it to be me-us."

"Shh," Heather whispered, as Arley muttered and turned onto his back. "He-he must be planning something awful for me when he wakes up."

Grady said quietly, "If you toll him over close to me, I'll get my arms over his head and around his skinny neck."

Honey giggled. "Tell you what-I'll get him to mount me, and then when he's pumping away, I'll keep sliding my ass over closer and closer, until you can mug him. How's that? Are you kidding, mister? Arley's too shrewd to get caught like that."

"Have you a better idea?" Heather asked. Honey shook her head and looked thoughtful. "I don't want to make him mad, Heather. Hehe likes me a lot, and maybe if I can keep him happy, he won't hurt us when his brother gets back. I mean, we can screw them silly, and after they get all calmed down, we can sort of sneak away together."

"And Grady?"

Honey got up and went to the far end of the porch, where she stretched out in the shade and turned away her face. Heather said, "I'm sorry, Grady, she's very young, and more frightened than she'll admit."

"It's all right," he answered in a whisper. "Could be she'll keep Arley busy most of the time."

Heather said, "I-I hope you won't hate me for anything I have to do with Arley. What-the thing you did to me-I never knew how sweet and wonderful that could be. It was my first time, and I think you were very nice for doing it. I don't want to do it with him, I want it with you."

"I understand," he said. "I can't think hard of you, Heather, no matter what you have to do."

"Thank you," she said. "Can you get some rest now? If he lets me, I'll bathe your wound again this evening and clean you up, maybe give you a sponge bath."

He touched her hand and lay down on the porch. His eyes hurt, she thought, the poor man was in such a mental strain, so worried and in pain. And she had practically hurled herself upon him for sex, making things even worse for him. Or had it? She had taken his mind off his injury, his possible lifetime of blindness, the distinct possibility of his upcoming death. And the deaths of herself, her sister. Heather was nowhere near so certain that Arley would take them along, or leave them unharmed.

She looked at the dog, and the big hound stared back. Pulling her dress away from her body, Heather blew down into the valley between her breasts. Such a body, she thought, all these years of being nothing, and then to suddenly turn into a vessel of rapture. Men thought she was desirable now-Arley-and Grady, too. Certainly she thought of men in a different way than she had before.

And now she wondered what kind of devious sexual tricks Arley would have in mind for her when he woke up.