The doorbell woke me up again. Like before my dreams had been nothing but swirling colors, random noises, and odd sensations. I rolled over and groaned, the skin of my back tight feeling and sore. I managed to wiggle out of bed as the doorbell rang again.

"Just a minute!" I yelled out. I could tell it was dark outside. Nobody should have been coming by, and how did they get past the gate?

Who's at the door? I wondered. I picked the .45 off the nightstand and headed toward the front of the house. The carpet was soft under my bare feet and for a second it was so strange it made me confused. The ranch house was all solid wood, no...

Except I'd left, running from Pru's ghost.

Because she was dead.

Stopping in front of the front door I wiped my face, knowing my eyes were probably red and bloodshot. I sighed, able to see someone outside by their shadow on the door, and opened the door.

Miss Mary-Beth stood there, holding a tinfoil covered casserole dish.

"I thought maybe you might be hungry, Mister English," She said. "Jesus preaches reaching out to those in need."

I went to tell her I wasn't hungry but my stomach rumbled loudly.

"Sounds like the Good Lord sent me to aid your stomach, Samuel," She laughed. She looked down, then up at my face, arching an eyebrow. "Expecting cattle rustlers?"

"Huh?" I looked down and saw the pistol in my hand, my trigger finger along the slide. "Oh, wasn't sure who'd be out here this late."

"Guess it's a Texas welcome then?" She giggled.

I flushed and Mary-Beth laughed. I moved aside and let her sweep into the house. She moved over to the kitchen counter, setting down the dish and removing the tinfoil from it. It was a tater-tot casserole with green beans and plenty of cheese on the top. I set the pistol on the counter after ejecting the magazine and clearing the chamber.

"I brought something else," She said, reaching into her massive purse. I stood and watched, putting the bullet back into the magazine without thinking, as she pulled out a bottle of rose wine and set it on the counter. She looked at me, "Not that, that's to celebrate."

Mary-Beth pulled out a sheaf of papers, setting them down next to the casserole dish. "I went down into Irving, to the county seat, and filed all the paperwork. It's all legal now," She turned to me and gave me a big smile. "The property is all yours. I cashed your check when I came back."

I walked over, looking over the paperwork. I'd arranged and negotiated plenty of land deals since I'd left the military, and knew where to look for anything tricky.

Property tax was current. It had been assayed two years ago. Property lines were marked out there with wooden stakes with red over yellow plastic ribbons. Water rights. Mineral rights, barring uranium. Airspace to two thousand feet above the highest point of the property.

"All in order," I smiled, setting it down.

Mary-Beth was already cutting me a slice of the casserole. It steamed as she set the slice on the plate.

"Ain't right for me to sit and watch you eat, Miss Mary-Beth," I told her. "Dish yourself up a slice."

She smiled at that, getting a plate and two glasses from the cupboard. She dished herself up a slice and then picked up the bottle.

"I can't. Doc Rutheford told me I have to stay away from alcohol," I told her. I cleared my throat uncomfortably. "I used to have a drinking habit, in the Army, and Pru doesn't like me..."

my voice trailed away.

Pru was dead.

I felt a surge of anger at her. She'd remade me, like wives do, and then left me. Left me all alone in a world that I didn't understand how to live in without her any more.

Miss Mary-Beth put her hand on mine. She lifted up a delicate handkerchief, dabbing at my cheeks. I flushed a bit.

a real man isn't afraid of his emotions

The old Sergeant Major's voice, gone these long years.

I suddenly remembered Stillwater holding onto me, sitting next to me on the couch, crying like a lost child after the funeral. Prudence, Aine, Nancy, Catherine, Miranda, and Heather watching helplessly. His oldest daughter hugging his leg and saying 'don't cry, daddy' as she cried too, the deaf one patting his leg and signing at him that she loved him.

Miss Mary-Beth wiped my face, stepping back and putting the cloth back in her massive purse. She hung it over the back of a chair and set her flower bedecked hat on the counter.

"Shall we eat?" She asked.

A part of me wanted to hurry up and rush her out the door. A part that knew Prudence would disapprove of me dining with a woman alone, without her or anyone else around.

Anger boiled up.

"How about on the back deck?" I asked, suddenly wanting to be out of the house so badly my stomach twisted.

Miss Mary-Beth smiled at that. "I'd love to, Samuel."

We walked to the sliding glass door at the dining room and I opened it with one hand. I swept an arm out in invitation, standing there and moving the blinds out of the way so they didn't smack into her. She went out and sat in one of the chairs while I went back inside, poured myself a glass of koolaid, grabbed my plate and fork, and followed her.

When I sat down she was looking around. I'd put automatic solar little path lights along the paths to the three sheds and they slowly shifted through the color spectrum. The breeze was coming from the creek at the back of the property, filling the air with the smell of water and growing forest. The night was cool, the stars twinkling in the sky.

"I love what you've done with this old place," Miss Mary-Beth said, leaning back in the chair. She shook her head. "I'd have felt guilty charging you to live here after you'd done all this."

I shook my head. "I needed something to take my mind off things," I told her.

She nodded, sipping at her wine glass, looking at me over the rim of it.

"To your good health, Mister English," She smiled.

"And yours," I smiled back. We clinked glasses, mine a juice glass, her's one of the wine glasses I had bought just for occasions like this.

"Lord, thank you for this food and for seeing Samuel through his trial in the sunlight. Thank you for your blessings upon both of us this night. Amen," She prayed. She smiled slightly when my stomach rumbled during it.

"Amen," I answered, practically diving for my fork.

The bug zapper crackled now and then as we ate. I was hungrier than I thought and almost wolfed it down. Mary-Beth watched me with a small smile, taking tiny bites of hers, which struck me as odd since she was a a good sized woman.

"Another slice, Samuel?" She asked me. She held up her wine glass, which was about half-full. "I could refill the drinks too."

A glance showed me that my glass of koolaid was empty.

"Please?" I asked. "I'm still a little unsteady on my feet."

"Doctor Rutheford said you were lucky you didn't die. Said you're made of Texas rawhide with the constitution of a brass eagle," she said from the dim kitchen. "The good Lord and the saints were watching out for you."

"I don't know if it was that bad," I laughed.

"Rumor has it that Ol' Pete found you face down in the grass, half dead, unconscious. Gossip says you tried to get the hose and almost had it before you passed out," She said. "Grace of God that Old Pete was worried about you."

I sat thinking. I remembered sitting up, but then falling over again when Old Pete had pulled up.

"Um, pretty much," I admitted.

I heard the fridge door open and shut. "Almost worked yourself to death on this house, God forbid," she mused. I heard the fridge door open and shut again. "You mean business when you get to work," she said, her voice coming closer. She came out on the back deck, holding my plate out to me, bending forward slightly as I reached up.

I realized she had massive breasts squeezed into a bra that shoved them together ruthlessly.

My hand was shaking when I took the plate and the glass from her. She gave me a smile and went back inside.

"My husband's bowling in Irving, so another glass won't hurt," She told me, disappearing into the dimness of the kitchen.

"Long as you're sober when you drive," I told her, almost out of habit. She laughed and came back out of the kitchen, sipping on her glass of wine.

She came back out, sitting down, and sipped at her wine, quiet while I ate. When I was done I set down the plate, covered my mouth to burp, and smiled at her.

"That was delicious, Miss Mary-Beth," I told her.

She laughed. "It was my pleasure, Samuel. The Lord encourages helping those in need."

"Be right back," I said, standing up.

"Koolaid goes right through you, eh, Samuel?" She teased.

I just laughed, going inside. I picked up the pistol and the magazine, walking back to my room and setting in the end table. I started to move away, then went back and slapped in the magazine. Satisfied I left the master bedroom, limping my way into the front room to pick up my cigarettes and Zippo off of the coffee table. I staggered back out, my legs trembling, and sat in the chair.

"Do you mind?" I asked her.

She shook her head, smiling. "I won't tell if you don't," she said, holding out her hand.

I lit one for each of us, handing her one. She stared into the darkness while she smoked.

"It's beautiful out here," She said. "Those paths are something else."

"Saw them in a magazine while I was buying the lawnmower," I told her.

She sipped her wine, looked at the glass and saw it was half-empty again. "Do you mind if I have another?"

I shook my head. "No, Miss Mary-Beth, you're good company."

She gave me a smile, picked up our plates, and went back inside. I heard the dishwasher open and close then fridge door open. "Would you like me to get the sun tea off the front porch? You seem a little shaky."

"Oh, please?" I asked.

I listened to her move through the house to the front door and then to the fridge. When she came back she stopped at the door.

"Do you mind?" She asked, pointing at the outside lights with her wine glass. "I'd like to see how it looks without the light, just lit by the light of the Good Lord's night."

"By all means," I said, smiling.

She turned off the light and walked outside, sitting in the chair next to me. She scooted the little table in front of us and leaned back, looking up.

"You even put up gutters," she said softly.

"Yeah," I said.

She looked at me, sipping at her wine. "Lot of interesting scars. An an interesting tattoo."

A looked at my shoulder. "Yeah, I got that after The Storm."

"May I?" She asked, reaching for the tattoo. "I'll be gentle, it looks like you're still sunburned."

I nodded. "Go ahead."

Her fingertips trailed the III CosCom interlocked triangles and the ring around them. "What do the letters mean?"

"My old unit, Special Weapons Group, we handled tank rounds and the like. The years were how long I was there."

"Seven years. That's a long time," She said.

I nodded.

Her hand slid over to rub my chest. When I looked at her she was sipping at her wine, staring at me over the rim of her wine glass. I was silent as her hand rubbed gently, then slowly trailed down to the zipper of my jeans.

She arced an eyebrow at me, her fingers lightly pressing.

Pru hasn't even been dead a month! How could you let...

Anger rushed up. Not at Miss Mary-Beth, but at Pru.

She left me. She died, not me!

I nodded to Miss Mary-Beth.

She smiled over the rim of her wine glass, then handed it to me. "Hold this, Samuel," she said. I took the wine glass and she stood up, moving in front of me. Her hands went to her hair and she unpinned it, letting it fall. It was long, past her waist, and she knelt down, leaning forward, so her hair covered my lap.

Her fingers worked the button open, then the zipper. She tugged at the crotch, making me lift up, and she slid my jeans down, fingers careful to bring the boxers with her.

"Just lay back for bit. Give me warning if you get close," She whispered, her voice husky.

"I will," I promised, my voice shaking.

Her head began to move up and down, sliding me in and out of her mouth as her tongue and lips worked.

how dare you

she left me

I reached down, finding her shirt open, and slid my hands into the front of her bra, pulling out her large heavy breasts. I could tell they sagged a bit, but I didn't care as I cupped them, lifting them slightly, rolling the nipples with my thumb. She shivered and moaned around what was in her mouth.

"About halfway there," I warned her, feeling myself twitch in her mouth.

She stood up, facing away from me, and lifted her dress up in the back, exposing plenty of ass. She was heavier than I was used to, her body different than Pru's Texas slender, and I rubbed her warm butt over her panties for a minute before tugging them down.

"I'm a bit too old to worry about getting pregnant," She whispered as she lowered herself down. She grabbed her cheeks, spreading herself open, and I guided it in.

She was hot, slick, and had a feel I hadn't felt in years.

A well busted out, well used hot pussy.

My brain tried to compare her to Pru but I shoved it away.

Miss Mary-Beth rode me right there in the chair, leaning forward to let me get the most in. More than a couple of times I pulled her against me so I could cup her breasts, squeeze them and tweak the little nipples capping such large heavy breasts. She whispered to God and Jesus and Mary as she rode me, wicked throaty whispers of a woman who's enjoying herself. At the end I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her hard against me, lifting up slightly to push as deep as I could into her, grinding my crotch against hers as I twitched and throbbed inside of her. When I started going off inside her she ground down on me, squirming on me, and peaked with a long guttural moan of her own.

Every time the guilt tried to rear its head, anger at Pru for leaving me alone burned it away.

We sat like that for a long time, her large warm butt on my lap, my cock buried deep inside of her and slowly softening, leaning back against me, my hands roaming over her soft breasts and chubby belly. Eventually it slipped from inside her and she shuddered as some of me dribbled from inside of her and onto me.

She stood up, turning around. She knelt down and surprised me by taking me gently in her mouth and sucking, being careful to be soft with her tongue. After a few long minutes she popped it out of her mouth, rocking back on her heels.

"You mind if this was our little secret, just between you, me, and the Lord?" she asked.

I put my hand on her cheek, rubbing her cheekbone with my thumb. "I'm fine with that, Miss Mary-Beth."

She stood up, tucking her breasts back in her bra before buttoning up her blouse. "I should get back before my husband gets home stinking of cheap perfume and bowling slut," she said. I could hear a little bit of self-hatred in it.

I stood up, towering over her, and she looked up at me, a little bit of fear in her eyes.

"Thank you, that was wonderful," I said, then bent down and kissed her. She melted against me for a moment. When the kiss broke she looked up at me, smiling.

"Thank you for that," She said. She giggled and looked at the deck. "My panties are on the floor."

I knelt down, opening them up. She raised her skirt, giving me a good view of her hairy crotch. I gave it a kiss, then helped her into her panties, kissing the front of them when they were on.

"Thank you, Mister English," She smiled. "That made me feel better."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Mary-Beth," I told her.

She left, without another word, taking the wine bottle with her.

I sat out on the deck, smoking another cigarette and staring at the July sky.

After a while I went in, putting Mary-Beth's glass in the dish washer and running it. I went through the house, checking the doors and window.

For some reason I locked the door three times, each lock. I unlocked and locked the windows three times each too.

Too tired to care why, I took the pills the doctor had given me and limped to bed.

Laying in the dark what I'd done, from kissing Lily to rutting with Mary-Beth, came rushing back.

I went to sleep crying.

Whether in anger or guilt or grief, I didn't know.