***
CHAPTER 2
***
The week after Master died, I moved with Katie into the house, permanently. We decided to share her bedroom, even though it was the smallest in the house. We just couldn't move into the Masters' old room; there were just too many bad memories.
Even if we didn't quite feel ready for it, Katie and I were on our own. The farm had to keep running. Crops needed planting. We had our lives to keep living.
At first it was pretty hard. Not many people wanted to do business with a nineteen-year old Chink. But our usual customers had gotten to know me in the past couple of years, and the majority agreed to continue our business partnerships. And as time went by, business went back to normal.
The rhythms of our life kept us going. Wake up, do your job, go to sleep. Plant, tend, harvest, sell. Smile for Katie. She was depending on me to keep us together, to keep us afloat.
The year after Master died turned out to be a year of big change, and also a year of even more tragedy. To be honest, Miss Rachel had an even worse year than we did.
There was some conflict in another country, and our President said that we had to do something about it. For weeks, it was the only thing the news would ever talk about. And then a few months later, Bill Taylor decided that he needed to go.
Miss Rachel was, understandably, rather upset. Bill hadn't been recruited. No one was forcing him to re-join the Army. There was the farm they had just started together. And besides, at 23, Miss Rachel's biological clock was ticking and he'd promised they would start their family. But Bill was dead set on joining. He said it was his duty as an American citizen.
In the end, Bill left. Miss Rachel was torn: half-proud of her husband, and half- scared to death about losing him. The last time he'd gone into the Army was more than enough for her, and that was a time of peace. This was a real war.
Running the farm was left to her. She knew just barely enough to keep things moving. The farm staff could keep everything in order until Bill got back. And I promised Bill I'd look after his wife.
Almost immediately, Miss Rachel became a frequent visitor to our house. After the day's work, every day, she would come by just to talk to us. Katie would meet her at the door with a big hug and ask, "How are you holding up, Miss Rachel?"
Every day, Miss Rachel answered with some variation of, "Not so well, Katie. Home is just an empty shell without my Bill."
A year later, in the wintertime, a black sedan with military plates pulled up to the Taylor farm. Two uniformed officers gave Miss Rachel a folded American flag and Letter of Apology from the President. Bill's body would be coming back in a few weeks.
***
Bill's funeral was six months past, and I was visiting Miss Rachel to look over her bookkeeping. She could do the math just fine, but every so often a supplier or customer would get the idea he could rip off the poor widowed woman who didn't know any better. So I would always review things to make sure no one was taking advantage of her.
"You want a cold beer, Johnny?"
"Yes, thank you, Miss Rachel."
She brought me a cold bottle from the fridge, the top already popped off. I took a swig then set it on the table, returning my attention to the accounting.
"Are you old enough to drink yet, Johnny?"
I smiled and turned to her. "Not yet, Miss Rachel." I very deliberately took another gulp. "But I'll be turning twenty-one in another month."
"Well, as long as you're old enough to vote... or to fight..." Her voice trailed off as she thought about that last phrase. I'm sure Bill was in her mind right then.
Then she put on a new smile and turned to me, "Hell, as long as you're 'legal'." It was a wolfish grin she flashed me this time.
I just grinned right back at her. "Legal, and fully capable anytime you need me."
"Mmm, I'll have to take you up on that sometime." Her tongue trailed out and she licked her lips. Her green eyes were shining.
Ever since that first time I'd met Miss Rachel, we'd had a little bit of a flirtatious friendship. I was a young man, thinking about sex every two minutes and about whichever female crossed my path. She was a pretty young lady, used to having men fantasize about her. But this was the first time I felt real heat coming from her. She was a young widow, still in the flower of her youth and attractiveness, but she didn't have a man to really appreciate that part of her anymore; I was the closest thing she had. Right then, I knew I would have to start being more careful around her.
***
That night, Katie was in front of the mirror drying out her hair after the evening's shower. My mind was still going over the heat in Miss Rachel's eyes, the thrust of her tits, and the cold fire of the icy beer she'd given me pouring down my throat.
I crept up behind my beautiful blonde, ripping away the towel and lifting her up in my arms. Katie squealed in my grip and didn't stop until I planted her flat on her back across our bed. "Johnny, what are you-?"
Her voice gave out when my tongue hit her clit.
I wanted to bring her pleasure, but the need in my loins was too great. I stayed down there just long enough to get Katie's juices flowing, and then I stood up and shucked my pants.
Katie wasn't complaining. Actually, she just giggled as I clambered atop her body and without further foreplay, I shoved my cock inside of her. And then I was fucking like a machine.
"Yes, yes, yes..." Katie chanted in my ear as I drilled her. It added to my stimulation but all that mattered was my release. Less than three minutes passed before I lunged my body forward one last time and exploded, pumping out a gallon of cum in successive waves that splashed against Katie's womb.
When I was done, collapsed against Katie's firm tits and gasping for breath, she stroked my hair and asked, "What was that all about?"
I wasn't sure if I should tell her. After all, most women wouldn't be too happy knowing their man was half-thinking about someone else. But this was my Katie. We had no secrets. So I told her.
Miss Rachel was lonely, that much was obvious. Her first six months alone were spent in shock and mourning. Over the next few weeks after that, the seriousness of her situation seemed to cave in around her, and Miss Rachel had really started to get depressed. She talked to us about it often. The only man she'd ever really known was dead. She was on her own in the world, and only twenty-four. By the time her mother was twenty-four, she was pregnant with her third child. Miss Rachel had always wanted children. Now it seemed like that would never happen.
Katie listened through my story, and when I finished she whispered to me. "Maybe Miss Rachel just needs to get laid. To remember what it feels like to have a man holding her."
I dared not say anything, even though very naughty images popped into my head.
***
In the end, Miss Rachel decided to adopt. She contacted the orphanage in town to start making arrangements and to set an appointment to come down and visit the children.
The very next day, Miss Rachel got a call. A Chinese girl had been orphaned more than a year ago. Now possibly because of me, the orphanage directly approached Miss Rachel about this girl. No one else within a hundred miles wanted to adopt a Chink.
They called her Lin, and she was a dirty, scrawny fourteen-year old who seemed half-starved and absolutely scared of us when she came in the door. At least, the social worker said she was fourteen. The girl looked nine-years old. For a brief moment, I thought about what my little sister, my real little sister, would have looked like if she hadn't died.
When Lin saw me, her quiet snuffling stopped, and she just looked wide-eyed at me, as if amazed to see a Chinese face. The social worker pleaded with Miss Rachel. Lin had nowhere else to go.
Miss Rachel's heart went out to the lonely girl, all alone in the world. They needed each other. So little Lin moved into the Taylor farm next door. Tragedy, happiness, sadness, love. And for a little girl: hope. Life goes on.
***
The next two years literally flew by. Both of our farms had a rough time, mostly due to the adjustments of losing their owners. But we were really starting to turn things around. Katie's and my farm was really humming. Quite a few times, people offered to buy it from us. And Miss Rachel's farm was at least turning a profit.
Lin was growing up nicely. Miss Rachel made sure the girl went to school full- time rather than laboring on the farm, and she was growing up into sweet young woman. Even though her mom was only ten years older than her, and a different race, Lin loved her as strongly as any daughter could (which included some teenaged attitude). And taking care of Lin made Miss Rachel happier than she ever could be. The two of them were even more frequent visitors to our place than Bill and Miss Rachel had been before.
Katie and I made clear with Lin that we weren't around to act like her parents; we were there to be her friends. She took that to heart, and always came by to ask us for advice. Sometimes, she would tell us secrets she didn't even want her mom to know.
But most importantly, in those two years, the love between Katie and me was growing steadily. And I had a plan.
As long as either of us could remember, neither one of us had been on a real vacation. In fact, neither of us had been beyond the big city since before we came to the farm. It had been nothing but work six days a week, with one day of rest for the Sabbath.
No sick days. No vacation days. But by the end of next winter, before spring planting, I was going to take Katie on a real vacation: to see the beaches, and see the real ocean.
