her, that Millie opened her eyes and thought about where she was and what she had done.
Sitting beside her, Pete grasped her chin and made her look at him. 'You ain't gonna tell nobody about this, understand? You liked it as much as I did, and you're going to keep quiet.'
She merely stared at him as the awful significance of what had happened permeated her mind.
Pete got off the bed, picked up his robe, and wrapped it around him.
He stood in the dimness, staring down at the well-fucked young woman. 'Just keep quiet. Remember that, or it'll go bad for you as well as me.' He permitted himself a slight smile. 'You're a damned good piece of ass. I'll be coming to see you again.'
After Pete had left the room, Millie lay unmoving in the silent darkness, her nightgown still rumpled around her neck, her vagina soggy with Pete's sperm.
It couldn't have happened! she argued mentally.
But she knew all too well that it had. Though her mind was in turmoil, her body was perfectly relaxed. All tension had melted away.
Shutting her eyes and fighting against the guilt that overwhelmed her, Millie pushed down her nightie and pulled the bedsheet up to her neck. She forced herself not to think. In less than a minute, she fell asleep.
CHAPTER SIX
It was a dream, Millie thought after awakening in the morning. I dreamed the whole thing!
But the vividness of the memory made such a conclusion difficult to accept. Slowly, trembling with dread over what she would find, Millie reached underneath the sheet that covered her and glided her hand down her body, across the ruffled hem of her nightgown and up into the hairy cleft between her thighs.
Her pussy remained slightly puffed, the passage easy to enter. Slipping two slender fingers inside, Millie fearfully felt around. She encountered thick, gooey moisture.
No! she thought. Oh God, no!
Trembling harder, she spooned out a sample of the suspicious substance and brought it up to where she could see it. One look confirmed that it was semen.
She lay back, her brain swirling in sick anguish.
Why did I let him do it? she wondered desperately. You couldn't help yourself, came an answer. He forced you.
But Millie knew this wasn't strictly true. She hadn't gone to Pete, and she would never have done so, but she had let him come to her and take her when she could have screamed or run away. Worse yet, she had enjoyed herself tremendously. This part of her shocking recollection was the most vivid of all.
How can I face Danny? she wondered. He'll probably be able to tell, just to look at me, what I've done. I have no right to stay here, she thought. I should put on my clothes and leave. But how? Someone would have to drive me to town. Then what would I tell Mother? I have no money, so I couldn't go anywhere else. Anyway, I still love Danny. I do! I couldn't bear to lose him!
Millie rolled over, burying her face in the pillow, and began to cry. She sobbed until her pillow was wet and she was weak from the expenditure of emotion. Then she got out of bed, dabbed at her eyes, and put on her robe.
Emotionally deflated, but still sick with shame, she went to the bathroom.
After a long soak in the tub, she felt cleaner physically. Though her guilt hadn't been washed away, she believed she had submerged it sufficiently so that she could face Danny without giving away what she had done.
Danny! she thought. He deserves someone better than me. I'm no good!
As soon as Millie had dressed and fixed her hair and makeup, she went to Danny's room. Her young husband had spent a restless night, and he was so full of complaints about his miserable condition that he hardly looked at her. At first Millie felt relieved. Then she was hurt because he wasn't taking an interest in her.
She felt like saying, I let your brother fuck me last night! But the mere thought sent a new torrent of shame flooding through her, and she turned away to hide her reddening cheeks.
When Millie finally went down to breakfast, she found that the rest of the family had already eaten and gone out. She was glad of that. Rosa brought her food, but she only picked at it.
She kept thinking about what she had done and wondering how she could make up for it. One thing was certain: she would never, never let Pete touch her again! She would claw his eyes out if need be, but she wouldn't give in to him. The same applied to Cal, in case he were to try anything.
Millie felt a little better after having reached this firm resolve. She finished her coffee and returned upstairs to be with Danny.
If only he weren't in that awful cast! she thought, blaming it for all her problems.
At the dinner table that night, Pete kept eyeing Millie. Each time she caught him looking at her, she felt flustered and looked away. Her cheeks were hot, and she knew she was blushing.
She glanced at Gus and found that he was also watching her. His leathery face bore a funny inquisitive look. Millie felt very ill at ease.
Maybe Gus knows what happened, she thought. If he does, will he tell Danny? Oh please, God, don't let him!
Cal was in his usual jovial mood, but he took no special interest in Millie. He ate quickly, then announced that he was going into town.
'On a week night?' Gus inquired with a scowl.
'Why not?' his son answered, grinning. 'I won't be out too late.'
'You going to see that red-headed writer?' Pete asked casually, his eyes on his plate.
'What's he talking about?' Gus asked Cal.
The husky young man looked uneasy and shuffled his feet. 'It ain't nothing, Pop. Pete's just shooting off his mouth. Well, I'll see you later.' He turned to leave.
'Wait a minute,' Gus said. 'There's something I want to say while we're all here together. I've already had a talk with Danny.'
'What is it?' Cal asked, obviously anxious to be on his way.
Pete looked at his father but said nothing.
'Like I told you,' Gus continued, 'I couldn't get no place with Charley Sturm yesterday. We're stuck with them Sky-high taxes. So while I was in town I, uh, dropped over to see Trevor Reed.'
'You didn't tell us that before,' Cal said.
'I know.' Gus looked down. 'I wanted to give it some thinking first. But I figure… well, you boys have got a right to know.'
The middle-aged man raised his eyes and looked at both his sons. 'Reed upped his offer for the ranch. He's willing to give us another ten thousand. That's above market value and… well, if you boys and Danny decide you want to sell out, I'll go along with it.'
Pete squinted. 'But, Dad, this place has been your whole life.'
'That's just the point. I ain't got a hell of a lot of working years left, and it'd be wrong for me to insist on holding on here if you boys want to take the profit from the sale. Like I've said before, I figure each of you and Danny owns twenty percent of this place, for the work you've done. I can take my forty percent of the sale money and buy me a little spread I can handle by myself for as long as I feel like working, then sell out and move to Florida or some place.'
'Aw, Pop!' Cal said. 'You're talking crazy!'
'Cal's right,' Pete spoke up. 'My future's on this ranch. We can pay the taxes somehow. Next year we'll check the appraisal when it first comes out and file a protest while there's still time.'
Gus grinned. 'I was hoping you'd say that. But remember,' he added, his expression turning grave again,
