Chapter 9

There is a knock at the door which startles Emily Elizabeth from her sleep. She groans, almost snarling at the noise. It comes again and this time her eyes fly open, only to quickly shut as the light flashes at them like headlights at a deer.

“Emily Elizabeth, you planning on coming down sometime today?” her mother asks through the door. “This is twice now you’ve overslept. We’re running a farm here. We ain’t got no time for oversleeping.”

The girl rolls over with a grunt, pulling the pillow over her head as she does. Her mother knocks one more time before she hears the door open and the woman stepping inside.

“Emily Elizabeth, you need to drag your ass right out of that bed this minute,” her mother rants.

“I’ll be up in a minute, Mama,” she grumbles out from beneath the pillow.

“Are you feeling sick, Emily Elizabeth?” her mother asks, her tone suddenly changing.

The teenager pulls the pillow off her face and lies there for another moment, staring at the wall before rolling onto her back to look up at the woman hovering over her bed. “I’m just feeling depressed, Mama,” she says sorrowfully.

“What have you got to feel depressed about?” her mother asks. “You got everything you need here on the farm.”

“It’s boys,” the girl answers.

“Boys?” the woman echoes. “What about them? Did you see one in town that caught your eye?”

“No, I ... I don’t have one in mind,” the girl quickly recovers. “I just wonder about them. I mean I’ve seen them in town, and we see our relations every now and again, but I want to sit and talk with one. Daddy doesn’t like the farm hands hanging around me for some reason.”

Mary, her mother, shakes her head. “That’s cause your daddy don’t want them men putting their hands on you.”

“Why would they?”

“Cause you’re a virgin,” her mother replies. “Those men can smell a virgin a mile away. Your daddy wants you pure for the boy you gonna marry.”

“There ain’t going to be marrying any boy if I don’t meet any,” Emily Elizabeth protests.

“You just let your daddy figure that one out,” the woman says, patting her daughter’s leg. “Now let’s forget this boy stuff and get up. You got your chores to do.”

“Why do I have to wait for Daddy to figure it out?” she asks. “Does that mean he’s going to choose who I marry?”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Mary deflects.

“No, Mama,” Emily Elizabeth pushes back. “I’m old enough to know. Tell me.”

The woman sigh heavily. “Your daddy is going to find a man that will better the family, just like my daddy did me. Now you’re lucky that hasn’t happened yet.”

“What do you mean yet, Mama?”

“I was married to your father when I was thirteen,” Mary explains. “I moved to this farm and I only got to see my mama and daddy when they visited us or we them. Be thankful you’ve got to stay here for as long as you have.”

“But I don’t want to marry someone I don’t know,” the teenager complains. “I don’t want to live on a farm my whole life.”

“Now there ain’t no sense talking this nonsense,” her mother chides. “This is how it works. You need to get used to it. We don’t always get what we want in life.”

“But...” Emily Elizabeth begins to protest again.

“Not another word, young lady,” her mother interrupts. “Get dressed and get downstairs. Storm is coming and you’re already late with your chores. Your father and the hands are gonna need help closing up the barns and securing the animals today.”

Emily Elizabeth does as she is told, pushing all her thoughts and fears to the back of her mind. She has work to do and a lot of it too. Anytime there is a big storm coming their way, the farm becomes a hive of frenzied activity. Her mother already put down the conversation, so there is no use bringing it up again today. Even if she could, the storm takes priority.

After a long day of chores and preparing the farm for the storm, Emily Elizabeth is tired. It took all afternoon for the clouds to build in the sky, darkening the land for as far as the eye could see. They made it through supper and were off to bed before the storm hit. The crashing thunder and flashes of lightning wakes Emily Elizabeth from an otherwise peaceful slumber. After the long day’s work and the pitter-patter of rain on the roof, she was sleeping like a baby. Leave it to the lightning and thunder to reverse the effects.

She lies there in bed for a little bit, huffing occasionally because she is tired and sexually frustrated. Blackie is still gone for his studding, so she cannot have him. She is still mad at Rick because of what he did to her. It wasn’t all bad, but she wishes she would have had more of a say in it. And then there is the problem with herself and having that stupid daydream about the man while she masturbated. Her troubles on the farm are nothing compared to these problems. She has spent her entire life dealing with her future.

With the thunder roaring and the lightning crackling, she begins to hear the horses. Their complaints are almost faint beneath the sounds of the storm, but it’s there. More specifically she hears Blackie. He shouldn’t be back, but then again he could have come back. With all the bustling activity on the farm today she could have missed him. Filled with a sudden excitement, Emily Elizabeth jumps from her bed and quickly gets dressed. It is too rainy and too cold to rush out in her nightgown.

She splashes across the muddy ground to the main barn. Swinging the door open, she step inside and tries to close the large door, but the wind catches it and it flies from her hands to slam into the side of the barn. She gasps when a fresh wind sends large drop of rain at her, spraying her like a fireman’s hose. Suddenly she feels a presence looming over her. She turns just in time to see Rick stepping around her and into the rain. His large form grabs a hold of the door and pulls it shut, effectively cutting off the rain and wind from the outside.

“It looks like you could use a hand,” he says. Emily Elizabeth just stares at him and nods. “What are you doing out in this storm?”

“I think the more appropriate questions is what are you doing here instead of the bunk house?” she counters.

“I’m checking on the horses. They sounded scared,” he answers her almost smartly. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard the horses too,” she answers. “I thought I heard Blackie too.”

Rick shakes his head. “Blackie isn’t back yet. Maybe you only thought you heard him.”

Emily Elizabeth’s face drops. A forlorn expression appears on her face. “I guess you’ve got it covered here. I’ll just get back to bed.”

She reaches past to push open the door, but his arm shoots across, barring her path. “Why don’t you talk about what’s really going on.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she counters, her expression turning sour.

“Oh come on,” the man protests. “Every time we bump into each other, you talk about Blackie. You got something going on with him?”

“I just like him. He’s a beautiful horse,” she lies.

“No, it’s more than that, isn’t it?” he asks, stepping in closer to the girl.

“Why do you keep asking me this?” she asks.

“Because I know you are interested in that horse because of what he’s got hanging between his thighs,” the man accuses, reaching for her pants.

“What ... what are you doing?” the teen asks, her eyes dropping toward his hand on her pants and then to the bulge in his. She licks her lips and looks up at his face. “You’re not going to rape me again, are you?”