Chapter 10

LADY BERGSTROM roared with laughter when Cy told her of the debacle at the fishing camp.

"How I wish I could have seen that. I bet Corey will never again be able to stand up straight. I remember when my late husband took a wet whip to some punk who had called him a name, and-oh, well, never mind. Here, drink this."

Although it was only midmorning, Lady shoved a tall highball into Cy's hands. He had ridden over for the double purpose of telling her of the incident with Corey and talking about his love life.

She did not let conversation languish. "Who are you seeing today, Maureen or Grace?"

Cy flushed, hiding his embarrassment by taking a long sip. "Lady, I'm confused. It doesn't seem possible, but I think I love both girls. Certainly I can't choose between them."

"That's nothing new for a man," Lady said brassily. "You may think it puts you up to your knees in trouble, boy. But there's no earthly reason why you should give up one of the girls-if you really do love both, that is. We have already decided that you're man enough for two."

"We have?"

"Well-I have."

"Thanks. Just the same, I don't think it's cricket not to let Grace know about Maureen. Or vice versa."

"Maybe it ain't," said Lady, "but you would be plain stupid to tell either one. Frankness and honesty are fine, but only at the right times. If the races could intermarry down around here, maybe you would be forced to choose which young lady should get the ring. However, you and Maureen simply cannot marry, saving you the necessity to make that choice-"

"Sure, but if I go on seeing her, suppose Grace finds out?"

"It won't stain your image. If a woman is trying to possess a man's soul, he has every right to leave her. And that's the usual course a man takes. She should know that, and be tolerant. Many's the gent who really means it when he promises to cleave forever to one mate, but men wander now and again. I buried three husbands who proved that they, like me, could love more than one person. My kind of love was bigger than my jealousy. Women borrowed them occasionally, but my men always came back."

"I'm going to send Maureen to school this year," Cy said. "Who knows-maybe that way the problem will resolve itself."

"I'll pay for her tuition," Lady volunteered. "I've been thinking about doing that for a long time."

"Let me chip in, Lady."

"Nope, I don't think I will. There aren't many satisfactions left to an aging woman. I think I'll keep that one to myself."

Cy sighed and took another drink. "I should see Grace, but I'm scared."

"Of what?"

He shook his head slowly. "She's snowed me," Cy said. "And it only took one hour. I can't understand it."

"Another conventional virus," Lady barked. "You've swallowed the whole story that love proceeds down tortuous paths. When it comes to women, you're not the patient type. Think back. Who were your big loves and how long did it take for you to know it?"

Cy grinned wryly. "You've been reading my mail. I've had the usual crushes-one real, big one that's still with me. It happened the instant I saw her dress blow up over her behind."

Lady chuckled loudly. "Now that's a good reason, son. Was it a nice fanny?"

"Tops. I think my heart stopped for a few beats, then I twitched like a fish on a hook. By the way," he said, changing to a safer subject, "am I still popular with the voters?"

"You're a shoo-in. Judge Wesley and the county organization have dumped Jonas. After that incident last night, Jake might just as well withdraw."

"If Jonas quits," said Cy soberly, "I'll withdraw myself-in favor of Davis Wilde."

Lady squinted her hard, blue eyes at him. "You still don't like the idea of playing sheriff, do you?"

"Not exactly."

"Davis is a top-notch man who would make a good sheriff," Lady said thoughtfully. "If you do withdraw in favor of Davis, you won't hear a peep from me."

Cy stood up. "Have you ever talked to Maureen about going to school?"

"Yes. She would be tickled to death to go-in fact, she was on the point of matriculating for the fall semester-but then you came along. Now she can't stand the idea of being away from you."

Cy jumped to his feet. "Believe me, I know how she feels! I can't stand the idea of being away from her, either. Grace or no Grace-I'll suffer." He clenched his fists. "But I can't block her off from education, from life. Regardless of Maureen's feelings or mine, she must go to school. That's what I've decided. Her talent is too great for it to be wasted!"

Lady gazed at him keenly. "She would be gone a long time, Cy."

"I know that, and as I said, I'll suffer. But some day she'll be back."

"She may never come back-especially if she wins recognition as an artist. And while she's away, she may meet some other man...."

"Those are chances I'll have to take," Cy muttered.

"That's my boy," Lady said softly.

"Think you could talk her into going?"

"Sure. I'll simply tell her that you want her to go."

For three days Cy stayed home and pondered, then he saddled up and rode toward Davis Wilde's place. Overhead the giant trees formed a leafy canopy. It was cool and peaceful and Cy's big horse nodded approval of the scene.

Cy took a short cut through a seldom-used woods and approached the house from the east. Grace was hanging out clothes. The moment she saw him, she sprinted for the house. She was dressed in Levis and a man's shirt. Cy wondered, with a fearful pang, whether she were running away from him.

He was sweating, his heart jumping madly. Recalling their last heated meeting, he sighed so profoundly that his horse neighed.

The front door was open and Cy knocked on the facing, walked inside. Grace's head appeared through the bedroom door, her face alight, shining, untouched by make-up. "Darn you," she shouted. "I made a promise to myself that the next time you showed I'd look like a lady, not a ragged orphan. Hold it a few minutes, Cy."

"Sure," he called. "I can come in and sit down, can't I?"

"Anywhere you like." Her hair was down now and billowed softly about the one bare shoulder she revealed to him.

"Don't do anything to your hair, Grace," he said softly.

The puckishness went out of her face. "All right, I'll let it fly free."

Cy sat down with a thump and shrugged to relieve the tenseness in his back and shoulders. He still retained the picture of a bare, velvety shoulder caressed by hair of such silken fineness that it had a floating quality. She had probably just washed it that morning, he guessed.

Then Grace emerged. She was wearing a simple, black skirt fitting closely only at the waist, and a tight, white blouse. Cy was convinced that she wore nothing beneath it because of the exotic dance of her breasts as she walked. Now he could see the electric intensity of her deep, blue eyes; and her face, framed in masses of black hair, seemed to have lost some of its pixie cast. It held a poignant welcome that made Cy's throat feel achy and thick.

Cy jumped up and she caught his hands. "I thought that maybe you'd have called before this."

"I think," he said carefully, "that I was a little afraid."

She turned. "Let's have some coffee. Come on into the kitchen."

He followed, watching the poetic sway of her hips and the fluid grace of her fine, young body. She poured coffee and sat down across the table from him. Either the fever of the other night had passed, or she was under iron control. He wondered which, and what to do about it, if anything.

"I can see," Cy said softly, "where you might have been apprehensive. I was scared, too. We progressed so quickly. My reaction, my inability to cope with my feelings, threw me for a loop."

She shivered and averted her eyes. "It was crazy, Cy. I'd never felt that way before, never acted that way. I didn't know what to do, how to control myself. The thing was so much bigger than me."

Cy nodded and sipped the hot, fragrant coffee. "I guess I felt the same. But it must have been worse for you."

"Why?"

"Because men, in general, are not schooled in restraint. It's not expected of them. A girl has to play the lady because society demands it. It must be demoralizing to have all those inhibitions slip from your grasp and leave you unprotected."

Grace shivered again. "Think what might have happened if it had been someone else. Someone not the gentleman you are-"

Cy chuckled. "I'm not so sure I acted properly. I had about as much-or less-control than you."

"That's not what I mean. You are a man with a man's way of behaving, but your action wasn't just an idle fling. I know that without evidence. I felt it I couldn't have been wrong."

"You're not My heart was brimming over."

Grace watched him silently for a moment "I don't think you know what you're saying."

Cy matched her stare. "I know exactly what I'm saying," he replied.

"You're sure, Cy?"

"I'm positive, Grace."

She sighed and looked away. "I'm afraid that I've pushed you and...." She turned her big, starry eyes to him again. "Cy, I'm sitting here about to explode. I'm just so full, full, full!" Tears sprang into her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. A piteous droop touched her lips. "Oh, Cy-" There was naked agony in the cry.

He made a quick move, rounded the table and snatched her into his arms. He held her close, letting her feel the tiger inside him, awaiting the response of her body as she melted into his every outline. The female in her sought the male in him with a sightless but objective insistence.

Their lips met and melted, releasing the fire that consumed them both. Her head swung back, and gusty, choking noises came from her throat, the lashing demand that he had set into motion threatening to overcome her.

Cy broke contact for a moment, shocked by the furious voltage she had loosed upon him. "Grace!" He had to raise his voice to shake the look of anesthesia from her eyes.

"Yes, Cy?"

"Have you thought about it?"

She crumpled against him and nestled in his arms. "I have thought of nothing else."

"How do you feel about it?"

"It's something I want to do-must do-in order to preserve my sanity." A violent convulsion ripped her and her starving mouth found his. One of her sharp, white teeth cut his lip and he tasted blood.

His hands caressed her back and her swelling, satiny hips. Then he forced her to him hard. "Where's Davis?" he asked in a choked voice.

"Jonas fired him. Haven't you heard? ... I guess he's out looking for another job. He won't be home until nightfall." She broke from him and took him by the hand. "Come on, Cy. We have all day."

She led him to her room, closed the door and turned to him. "Cy, we're here all alone. This is totally new to me. I know about sex in its simplest form because I've listened and read. But-I-I'm strange. I have all sorts of compulsions. Some of them might shock you ... "

He stopped her and took her into his arms. "Hush," he said with great gentleness. "All people would like to yield to special sexual urges. Some wise ones do. There can be no shock where there is love."

Her eyes sought his, wide and questioning. "Then you do know what I'm talking about?"

"Of course. I told you so. There's love in this room, Grace. Nothing, absolutely nothing can be wrong."

She rested her head on his chest. "You make me feel so comfortable and safe and free. I have a little fear left, but I'm no longer terrified. The fear is of the unknown about to be explored."

He tilted her chin. "Tell me about your compulsions."

She colored a little. "I want to reveal myself to you. I want to take off my clothes and stand proud before you. I'm good to look at, Cy. I want to do anything that occurs to me."

"All right. You do just that. Do I have the same privilege?"

She clutched him hard. "Whatever you like, Cy. I might be shocked, but don't let that stop you. I just don't know very much, that's all."

She stepped away from him and with slow fingers began unbuttoning her blouse. It widened and he could see the dim, rich outlines of her soft-skinned breasts. When it was open, she shrugged out of it.

Cy caught his breath at the sight. Those twin beauties were firm, delicately textured and rose-tipped. He stretched out his hands and caressed the silken skin of her waist and the firm plane of her stomach. She stood stiffly, her jaws tight and her eyes closed. She wanted to cry out, but she remained silent. Cy kissed the proud summit of each breast. But when billows of joyous agony thundered against the portals of her restraint, he desisted and stepped away to let her regain possession of herself.

Grace's hands went to her skirt, slid down the zipper, then released a slice of pink skin. The cloth hung at her hip, then slid to the floor. Grace stood in proud glory, her body so deliciously formed in every detail that Cy's heart ached and his blood surged madly.

"Cy, do you like me?"

He shook his head. "You're unbelievably lovely. Like a-princess, a goddess! I can't describe what I feel. I love you, Grace."

A sob tore from her throat. "And let this be the measure of my own love ... There isn't another man alive to whom I would display myself." She moved into his embrace and for a long time he held her.

Then she broke away from him, smiling. Her fingers went to work on his wrappings and fastenings. Soon he was as nakedly defenseless as she was. She stepped back, her eyes examining him curiously and closely, just as his had examined her.

He turned red, and she laughed. "You're magnificent, Cy. Oh, my Cy! My fine figure of a man!"

She moved into his arms again and warmth flowed. Her hands explored him fully and intimately. Then his own hands became active. Everything she owned was made available to him-the round, eager breasts, the high moons of her dimpling hips, the rises and valleys of her luscious, luxuriant womanhood.

But the pinching and caressing, the probing and fondling, soon proved too much for her. Her long-limbed body jerked spasmodically. Her sudden clutch was strong. "Cy-Cy, please...."

Cy lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He stretched her out and said, "Compulsion."

Then she underwent as heavenly a torture as she had ever dreamed. His lips were live, avid suction cups that left a trail of agonized joy along her tender flesh. From the soles of her feet to her tender, melting mouth, Grace tingled with white heat. In a trance of pleasure, she remained quiescent until the ultimate had been reached, then went into a wild, thrashing frenzy. When awareness returned, her fears were over and she was the center of a strong embrace. What she had been when the lovemaking had started, she was no more.

Grace uttered a glad, shuddering sigh and relaxed, giving her entire attention to the climactic wonder that had sundered her. This new thing, this new absoluteness of taking, filled her with joy. Cy had taken-and she had received-totality.

Then anew the storm arose within them. Winds flung and tossed them. Cy became conscious of Grace as a woman of great and as yet unchallenged sexual powers.

She flung entreaty and savage demand at him with primordial passion. There was utter urgency about her movements, as if she were determined to miss nothing that was hers to have, determined to experience each of the rites of love, no matter how exotic or difficult. Even though at times the tempest smote her into momentary semi-consciousness, she kept floating to the surface after the lightning had struck. Recovered, she began again to seek thrill and thrust, kiss and culmination. Cy was amazed by his own stamina, by the deathlessness of his response to this child woman who had known nothing but was burning to learn all.

Nature, however, stepped in and stopped what neither of them was willing to halt. They fell asleep in the early afternoon. When Cy woke groggily, he looked at his watch. "Grace," he breathed, "it's four-ten. Wake up. Your brother may come earlier than you expect."

Grace opened her dewy eyes, glazed with satiation. She laughed and squirmed wantonly. "Do you suppose we will ever be able to surpass this, or will we have to be satisfied with equalling it?" She threw herself at him, forcing him to his back, then snaked herself atop him. Crossing her forearms on his chest, she rested her chin and grinned at him. She made certain serpentine undulations that brought Cy's skin to a pucker. "Answer the question," Grace said in stern, judicial tones.

"I don't think we should try to surpass it," Cy said, sliding his fingers over her hips and up the velvety expanses of her flanks. "It would be more than mortals could bear."

"Maybe you're right. As for Davis, his jalopy makes a fearful racket coming over the cattle guard. We'd have plenty of time to make ourselves respectable, if not presentable." She sighed and tears came to her eyes. "Can you understand, at all, what this has meant to me, Cy? Think of it. My first time in bed with a man-and it turned out so wonderfully well! Oh, I've sinned vicariously-in my mind, my dreams-but how could I have known what it was like simply to let go completely, to throw myself into the pool.

The waters of love wash over me, Cy. I drown in them ... "

"Are you wrung dry?"

"No," she whispered.

Cy soon proved that neither was he.

Four o'clock came and found them floating in the dim twilight that divides consciousness from coma. A rattling sound rose abruptly from the front of the house. They jumped to their feet, throwing on clothes.