A Texas Hero

“Why?”

“I was very naive. I had a couple of sexual experiences in college that weren’t satisfactory. Then I met Doug and he was nice, gentle and kind, and...”

“And what?”

She didn’t know if she could continue. She’d never told the intimate details of her marriage to anyone. Not even Holly. The darkness once again gave her courage.

“Sex wasn’t as I’d imagined between two people in love. I was usually glad when it was over. I kept telling myself it would get better after we were married. How stupid was that?”

He didn’t say anything. She should stop before she made a fool of herself, but somehow she couldn’t.

“Doug was my husband and I wanted to please him, but there was never an ‘Oh, my God’ moment for me. After Chloe was born, I lost all interest in sex. Chloe was a fussy baby and cried a lot. I was exhausted from taking care of her. Doug wanted to hire a nanny. I refused. That’s when our marriage really started to deteriorate. So you see, I’m partly to blame. I drove him to other women.”

“Did you try talking to him?”

“Yes. He said everything was fine. It wasn’t, though. I’m afraid I’m one of those women who don’t enjoy sex.”

Complete silence followed her declaration and from some secret place in her she found the nerve to continue. “I’m very aware of you as a man.”

“Don’t go there, Abby.”

“Why not? We’re both over twenty-one. Adults. Unattached. And free to do what we want. No strings. No attachment. Just sex.”

“I’m not having unprotected sex, especially under these circumstances.”

“I have a diaphragm.”

“It doesn’t matter. The only rise you’re getting out of me tonight is my temper. Please go back to your mattress and go to sleep.”

“Okay. Okay.” She crawled to her spot, feeling rejected and about as low as she could get. She couldn’t even seduce a man.

“When you get home, see a therapist and work through your issues about sex. Sometimes sex is more in the brain than in the genitals.”

“Gee, I should have that printed on a T-shirt.”

“Abby.” He sighed. “We’ve only known each other a few hours and most of that time we’ve been at each other’s throats. I’m not trying to hurt you. I just think it’s not wise for us to get emotionally involved.”

“You’re right,” she admitted grudgingly. “After everything we’ve been through, I fear I’m losing it.”

“You’re not. You’re just punch-drunk from exhaustion. Try to sleep. That will help.”

“I’m afraid to close my eyes. If I do, I’ll be back in the bank with that gun pressed against my temple, or lying against that log with bugs crawling over me waiting for the blast of a gun.”

“Close your eyes and you’ll simply go to sleep. You’re too tired to dream.”

His words were comforting. She lay back and felt miserable. “My clothes are filthy and sweaty and I’m dirty from head to toe. I can feel sand between my toes. I can’t sleep like this.”

“Just don’t think about it.”

She sat up. “I’ll wipe my body with my top. Maybe I’ll feel better.”

“Whatever. You don’t need to tell me what you’re doing.”

She pulled her damp top over her head and wiped her neck, breasts and arms. The wind touched her skin. “Ah, that feels good.”

“Mmm” was his sleepy reply.

A loud howl echoed in the distance.

“What’s that?” She leaped onto his mattress right on top of him, their arms and legs entangled.

“It’s a coyote. For heaven’s sakes, I know you’ve heard a coyote before.”

“On TV and in movies, but not this up close and personal.”

“He’s miles away and not a threat. I’m about to lose my patience, Abby.”