Pamela Morsi

“I’ll tell you a secret about the men in this world. They like young pretty girls, but when pretty teams up with smart and resourceful, it’s more than an elixir, it’s nearly a dad-blamed aphrodisiac.”

“She was Grandma Will. That term felt foreign and unfitting to the relationship they had. She wondered if her father had ever called her Mother, Ma, Mom, Mama? Maybe in private he might have, but to the world, all the world, it was Aunt Will.”

“Accepting the world’s realities, even when you didn’t understand them, was a basic necessity of existence in Ozark life.”

“You don’t want me to end up like you. I have to tell you, that’s always been kind of weird to me. I hope I end up like you. In fact, that’s the one goal that I’m really sure about. I want to be as much like you as possible.”- Tree to Piney, in one of their father-son talks.”

“Madge did the honors. “Are you…keeping company with Doc Piney?”Jesse answered carefully. “We are not dating, but we are seeing a lot of each other.” Factually true. Revealing nothing.The three women sat silently for a long moment, sharing glances with each other.“You know he has a sad history,” Walter Lou said finally.“Of course she knows,” Madge said immediately.“Everybody knows. The question is are you planning on breaking that man’s heart again?”The suggestion was not at all what Jesse expected.She stuttered out an answer.“I…I don’t…I don’t think Piney knows me well enough to get his heart broken,” she managed finally.“Oh, Lord, girl,” Madge said. “He’s a Baxley. A more lovelorn line of men never graced the earth.”“That’s the truth of that,” Walter Lou agreed. “Those men dote on their women something fierce.”

“Piney woke up wearing a big grin on his face. He couldn’t remember when he’d slept so well. He pulled the pillow next to him up over his face. He could smell her hair on it.“Jesse,” he murmured to himself. He liked her. He really liked her. And he loved, loved, loved doing her.Being inside her. She was so hot. She was so tight. She was…Piney stopped himself in midthought and rolled out of bed. His mind was headed where his body could not go.”

“You young folks today think you invented the world,” Aunt Will said. “Still, a dash of unlawful scrumping might work for you. A lot more folks have tried that recipe than my own, even if we don’t hear testimonials.”She chuckled naughtily at that suggestion. Jesse giggled a bit herself.The important thing was that her aunt was nodding and smiling again.“But beware, DuJess,” Aunt Will told her. “Every cure has its side effects. It only seems fair to warn you. I suspect that a regular tonic of Piney Baxley can be potently habit forming.”

“I’ve got to get you home before I lose all my sanity and give in to the urge to imprison you here as a sex slave for my evil desires.”Jesse sighed heavily. “That does sound tempting, but I’m pretty sure that Aunt Will would miss me.”“She probably would,” Piney agreed. “And how could I explain to my son why I’ve got a woman locked up in my bedroom?”

“Suddenly, from the depths of that chair emerged the biggest, meanest-looking dog Jesse had ever seen. One side of his face had suffered some disfiguring injury.The jaw hung slack and the eye on that side was missing.Jesse froze in her tracks, terrified that she might be mauled by this monstrosity of a pet. She glancedaround, looking for a stick or a rock or anything to defend herself. There was nothing close but she was afraid to move. Surely if the animal were dangerous, Floyd and Alice Fay would have said something. Jesse waited tensely for a moment before realizing the dog wasn’t so much growling or barking as he was howling; loudly, purposefully howling.“She don’t bite,” a voice called out. “She’s my hillbilly alarm system, letting me know that they’s strangers about.”

“Love is rare enough in this life,that when you come acrost ityou'd best grab ahold,and hang on for dear life.”

“Women don't always want the right things in a man. And men don't have even an idea of what they want," she said. "Why, one minute their bodies tell them they want a wild woman that makes their blood rush. The next minute their good sense reminds them that they need a hard worker who is sturdy enough to help plow the field and birth the babies. They want a woman who'll mind their word and not be giving no jawing. But they also want a gal they can complain to when they are scared and unsure and who's smart enough to talk clear about the things goin' on.""So the wife has to be all those things?""No, the wife is none of them," the old woman answered. "The wife is a wife and no further definition is necessary." Granny leaned forward in her chair to look more closely at Meggie. "Roe Farley married you and you were his wife. Nothing further even need to be said."Her face flushing with embarrassment, she glanced away. "But he doesn't... he didn't love me.""And did you think he would?"Momentarily Meggie was taken aback. "Well, yes.""Lord Almighty, child," Granny said. "Love ain't something that heaven hands out like good teeth or keen eyesight. Love is something two people make together."Shaking her head, the old woman leaned back in her chair once more and tapped on her pipe. "Love, oh, my, it starts out simple and scary with all that heavy breathing and in the bed sharing," she said. "You a-trembling when he runs his hands acrost your skin, him screaming out your name when he gets in the short rows. That's the easy part, Meggie. Every day thereafter it gets harder. The more you know him, the more he knows you, the longer you are a part of each other, the stronger the love is and the tougher it is to have it.”

“We had different lives. We come from different places.""Surely ye do. And you got different bodies, too. That's what marriage is about, Meggie-gal, making differences intertwine into something whole and new."Meggie didn't want to argue. "He didn't love me, Pa," she said."I'll believe that when I see coons a-taking up farming," the old man answered. He raked his hair with his hands helplessly. "What do ye think love is, Meggie. Do you think it's heart pounding and breath stealing and verse reciting?" he asked. "Yes, ma'am, there is some of that involved, but mostly love is quiet and caring and friendlylike. It's wanting to tell that person something afore you whisper it to another soul. It's not being alone.”

“He pulled her close and kissed her. Happiness and joy settled around them like a warm cloak. And gentleness spurred passion. His kiss deepened and a soft, low moan eased out of his throat.He wiggled on the bed beneath her, letting her feel the resurgence of his passion inside her."I'm ready to do it again," he said plainly."You can't do it twice," she answered, giggling."Why not?""You just can't," Althea told him. "Men do it one time and then they rest up for a day or two.""I think I'm rested up enough," he told her."Jesse, I know what I'm talking about," she said with confidence. "I was married for over two years. And I know all about it. You can't be ready to do it again."He proved her wrong.”

“Jesse squeezed her breasts ardently. "I just love your round parts, Miss Althea. They are just about the best things I ever felt in my life."He proved his enthusiasm for them by kneading, manipulating, and caressing until Althea was standing on her tiptoes, every muscle in her body straining to give him better access."Oh, Miss Althea," he said finally, removing his hands from her body. "This is the most fun I ever had in my life."He was breathing as if he'd just run up the mountain, pulling Granny Piggott on the skid.”

“Miss Althea?""I don't blame you, Jesse," she said at last, taking control of her whirling emotions. "I must have…I must have led you astray somehow. But you must never touch me again."Jesse's disappointment was palpable. "Never?" That seemed impossible. To beallowed to know how wonderful it was to feel and smell and taste her and then tonever be allowed that again. It was so unfair. Jesse wanted to cry. It was too unfair.”

“He simply had to trust the dogs. On the hunt, man and dogs were always a team.With Jesse, perhaps this was more true than with most. Most men, knowing themselves to be a lot smarter than the dogs, often overruled their judgment. Jesse, not thinking himself much smarter than anything, did not. He often relied upon his own instincts. Hetherefore had more respect for instinct, perhaps, than a man who normally relied upon intellect. The mind of the dog was in many ways as simple and uncomplicated as Jesse's own. He was taught to memorize actions in places he couldn't reason, andobey in situations that he did not understand. When he did understand he followed his instinct. His instincts assured him that as hunter, the dog was at least the equal of man. And for scenting and tracking, the dog was superior.”

“The barking of the dogs was getting louder, closer once more. Jesse's finger curledaround the trigger. He tried to still his mind from all thoughts. But the image of MissAlthea lingered.Sweet-smelling Miss Althea with her warm smile and her so very round parts. She never looked at him mean or like she was afraid. She looked at him loving, warm and loving, like she looked at the boy. She looked at Jesse that way. And he liked it. He really liked it. But he wanted it different, too. He was not a boy. Jesse was a man. He wanted Miss Althea to see that. He wanted to put meat on her table. That's what men do for the women they love.”

“Jesse swallowed and looked around the field. Roe could see him struggling with his thoughts, trying to put them in a coherent order. "It takes me a long time to learn things," he told Roe finally. "When I learn 'em, I try to hold on real tight. It's kindy scary for me to try to unlearn 'em.”

“Why are you starting there?" Roe asked as he followed the young man curiously.Confused, Jesse looked down at the ground and then at the mule before he shrugged. "This is where I always start," he said. "This is where Pa showed me to start."Roe shook his head. "Well, that doesn't make sense, Jesse. You should start at the edge and go to the edge."Jesse gazed at one edge of the field and then at the other. His brow furrowed in concentration. "That ain't right," he said."Of course it's right," Roe told him, smiling. "It makes perfect sense. Starting in the middle doesn't make any sense at all."Jesse bit his lip nervously as again he surveyed the field. "We got to start right here, Roe. I know we do."Roe sighed and shook his head. "Now, Jesse, you just told me yourself that I was smarter than folks around here. And I told you that a smart man can make light work of his labors. You do believe that, don't you?"Jesse nodded solemnly."Then you've got to trust me when I tell you that the place to begin is at the beginning, not in the middle."To Roe's horror, tears welled up in Jesse's bright blue eyes. "We got to start right here," he insisted. "This is where Pa taught me to start and it's the way I know."Alarmed at the young man's emotion, Roe voluntarily touched his shoulder in an uncertain attempt to comfort him. "It's all right, Jesse. Don't cry," he said."I ain't crying," the young man insisted through his tears. "I'm too big to cry.”

“It was that reader that she'd found in Mama's trunk. At the schoolhouse they had McGuffey, good lessons about good boys and girls. But Meggie had found the worn, faded book of fairy tales. They had been much more interesting than the stern admonitions of McGuffey. And her imagination had taken flight. Fanciful, that's what her father had called it. And when she'd read about Rapunzel, she'd decided that none of the local boys would ever do. A real prince was coming up the mountain for Meggie Best someday. She was sure of it. Unfortunately, this morning she'd thought that he'd arrived.”

“He, the stranger, was speaking to her brother Jesse. The sun was at his back and it shone around him like a golden halo. Even from the distance she could see that he was handsome in a curious way. He was finely dressed and worthily shod. Real pince-nez spectacles of circular glass were perched upon his nose. And his trim form and deignful expression gave him a princely air.Meggie's eyes widened. Her heart beat faster and the blood sped through her veins.A prince. Her prince.”

“Just because we're living in the stickes doesn't mean we have to look like we belong here”