Chapter 4

With no more tears to shed, Abigail donned an ankle-length chemise with a dry dress over it and walked to her bedroom door. Her steps were small and labored. With a trembling hand, she grasped the doorknob and took a deep breath. It was still raining hard so she knew her son would be inside the cabin. What was she going to say to him? Should she say anything? This was unchartered territory for her. She turned the doorknob and opened the door.

“I’m hungry,” Wyatt said. “What took you so long?”

A shocked Abigail gawked at her son. That’s what was on his mind? Food? Not what he was caught doing in the barn?

Wyatt was sitting on his bed wearing long johns. His knees were up with his arms wrapped around his shins. His wet shirt and trousers were spread out on the floor to dry. Wyatt looked relaxed wearing nothing but his long johns. Why wouldn’t he? Abigail realized she would normally have come out wearing only the ankle-length chemise that she slept in and nothing else. They often saw each other in their undergarments, ever since Wyatt was a baby. Why had she bothered wearing the dress over the chemise? Although it was raining and the wind howled, it wasn’t cold. Why the sudden modesty with her son?

If Abigail’s conscious mind didn’t know the answer, her subconscious did. But she didn’t want to think about that.

Abigail made a quick dinner which they ate at the wooden table. There wasn’t much talking. Wyatt shoveled his food down while Abigail fretted over what to say about the barn incident. Evidently, Wyatt didn’t think anything of it. That made it worse. That meant he would do it again.

“Honey,” Abigail asked, “do you want to ask me about anything?”

“Like what, Mama?”

“Well, you don’t have a daddy and you’re growing up.”

“I never had a daddy. You taught me to shoot and ride and ranch. To read and write. What else is there?”

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Are you lonely?”

“I’m busy all the time. And you’re here. I’m not lonely. Why? Are you lonely?”

“No, honey, not as long as I have you.”

“That’s how I feel.”

Abigail only had a few months with her husband, but he had taught her what she needed to know to work the ranch. After his death, she had struggled in the beginning, but learned from her mistakes until she didn’t make any. So she had taught her son ranching, like his father would have. But there was more than ranching his father would have taught him. Abigail had learned about her body and sex from her mother. Wyatt’s father wasn’t there to teach him about that.

“I’m gonna have to round up the strays tomorrow,” Wyatt said.

Deep in thought, Abigail looked up. “What?”

“The storm. The cows most likely ran off. I’m gonna have to find them and bring them back.”

“You’re right. What about the sheep?”

As soon as she had said it, Abigail blushed.

“Mama, you know they don’t run off. They just find a place to hunker down and wait for it to be over.”

Abigail was only half-listening to her son about the ranch. Her mind was on other things.

“Sure you don’t ever get lonely?” Abigail asked, holding her breath.

Wyatt laughed. “Told you. Too busy to be lonely.”

“I’m serious. What about girls?”

“What about them?”

“Ever think about girls?”

“Eww. They’re mean.”

“Who’s mean?”

“The girls in town. I hate them.”

Abigail’s jaw dropped. “You don’t even know any girls.”

“Sometimes when we are in town they say stuff when you’re not around.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t matter.”

“Please tell me.”

“Remember last time when you had to see Doc and sent me to Baxter’s to get some candy?”

Abigail nodded. She had gotten a splinter that she couldn’t get out and the area had turned red. Since they were short on supplies anyway, they had gone into town.

“There were two girls in Baxter’s near the candy jars,” Wyatt said. “When I came in they saw me and whispered to each other and started giggling.”

Abigail smiled. “That’s not being mean. Maybe they like you.”

“They were mean. They said mean things to me.”

“Like what?”

“Stupid things. Like ‘Here’s the hermit’ and ‘His only friend is his hand.’ We don’t even have hands on the ranch. They were just being mean.”

Abigail was stunned. How did young girls know about boys jerking off? Of course, growing up in a whorehouse and being around prostitutes, Abigail had heard every bawdy joke imaginable. But how would a normal girl know that joke, let alone that boys jerked off? And her poor son had no idea what they were talking about. Is that something a father taught his son like her mother had taught her about her body and sex? She was at a loss. How was her son going to learn what a boy needed to learn to become a man?