Part 50 (1/2)
”Should I leave?”
”No call for that,” she said, and jumped into the creek. She waded out till the water was waist deep, then turned and smiled. ”It's right nice,” she said, sinking down. After ducking her head, she cupped some water to her mouth and drank. ”Don't take a notion to come in,” she warned. ”Just stay where you are and keep an eye out for strangers.”
I checked about. n.o.body in sight. When I looked again at Jesse, she had her s.h.i.+rt off. She was crouched low so that the water covered her almost to the shoulders. It was fairly clear, though. Below the surface, everything looked shadowed and wavery.
She mopped herself with the s.h.i.+rt, then draped it over her back and flung the sleeves around her neck so she wouldn't lose it.
”Would you like me to hold that for you?” I asked.
Instead of answering, she sank down, filled her mouth, then came up and squirted at me. The spout fell short. It splashed the rock in front of my crossed legs.
”I say! Don't get me wet! I may have to come in and throttle you.”
”You stay where you are, Trevor Bentley.”
With that, she took off her dungarees. She held them off to the side. The current lifted them, stretched them out, filled their legs.
”Don't lose them, now.”
”If I lose 'em, I'll have to take yours.”
I laughed. But my laughter rather got caught in my throat as Jesse's free hand commenced to rub at her body. I thought it might be best to look away. But Jesse knew I was here, knew I was watching, and had glanced down often enough to know what could be seen through the water.
Obviously, she didn't object to my watching.
She watched me watch, her eyes all bright with their mischief.
A game of sorts. Perhaps a test. Or maybe nothing of the kind. Perhaps she'd simply grown to trust me, to care for me enough that she no longer felt it necessary to bathe in private.
Below the water, her body was blurred and s.h.i.+mmery. Still, I could see her hand gliding up and down her legs, then delving between them before she went about cleaning behind herself.
All the while, she watched me.
When she finished was.h.i.+ng, she stayed crouched down, her chin just touching the water. ”Am I as pretty as your Sarah?” she asked.
Right then, I couldn't pull a picture of Sarah into my head. Didn't need to, though. ”Oh, yes, quite. You're far more beautiful.”
”Figured,” she said, and nodded.
”You're also considerably more conceited.”
”That so.” A grin came up that near-about split her face. ”Too bad. It's me you're stuck with, pardner.” Laughing some, she struggled back into her trousers. Once they were fastened, she stood up and waded toward me, her s.h.i.+rt still draping her back, its sleeves around her neck like arms ready to choke her.
She gleamed in the sunlight. Water dribbled down her skin. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s bounced and shook ever so slightly. They had goose b.u.mps, and the nipples stuck out proud. Drops of water fell off them as she climbed onto the rock in front of me.
Kneeling there, she smiled with just one side of her mouth. ”Watch you don't wear out your eyes.”
”What do you expect me to do with them?”
”It ain't polite to stare.”
”And is it polite to parade about...s.h.i.+rtless?”
”Feels good. If I was a feller, I don't reckon I'd wear one much at all. It's all cause of the dang t.i.ts.” She scowled down at them. ”You're lucky you ain't got any.”
This was some of the most peculiar talk I'd ever heard. Not that it surprised me much, as it came from Jesse.
”Gotta keep 'em covered all the time...”
”Not that you do so.”
She shook her head and kept frowning at them. ”They're only just me. me. Same as my face or hands. I don't all the time gotta wear a mask and gloves, do I?” Same as my face or hands. I don't all the time gotta wear a mask and gloves, do I?”
”It's different.”
”That's for durn sure. It beats me why, though. Shouldn't oughta be, do you think?” Before I could come up with an answer, she plugged on. ”They're a plain nuisance. Men always gawping at 'em. Grabbing if they get half a chance.
That d.a.m.n German went and sucked sucked on 'em. How come he didn't latch onto my shoulder instead? Or my forehead?” on 'em. How come he didn't latch onto my shoulder instead? Or my forehead?”
”I don't exactly know, Jesse. It's that there's something rather splendid about b.r.e.a.s.t.s.”
Saying the word set me to blus.h.i.+ng fierce.
”Well, it don't make a lick of sense.” She pushed against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, mas.h.i.+ng them against her chest. ”How's that?”
Lucky hands, I thought. But kept mum, judging she might not appreciate a remark of that caliber. Besides, I doubt that any comment at all could've squeezed through my throat at that moment. I was fl.u.s.tered and stirred up something awful.
She jerked her hands away and the b.r.e.a.s.t.s came springing out. They looked a bit red.
”Sometimes,” she said, ”I've got half a notion to cut 'em clean off.”
Whittle's work slammed through my mind. ”b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!” I blurted. ”Don't you ever say that!”
She gaped at me, startled. ”Land sakes! What's the matter with you? I was only just jos.h.i.+ng.”
”There's nothing at all funny about it!”
”Settle down, settle down.” She took hold of my shoulders, looked me in the eyes. ”What is it? Trevor?”
I shook my head.
”Tell me. We're pardners, right?”
”It's Whittle. He...he didn't only cut their throats. The women I told you about. He carved them up terribly. And...and he cut off their b.r.e.a.s.t.s.”
Jesse's hands tightened on my shoulders. She didn't say anything, but just knelt there in front of me, hanging on. By and by, she leaned closer until her forehead met mine. ”I'm ever so sorry I said such a thing,” she whispered.
”If he should ever get his hands on you...”