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The Alamo, yes, I have heard many stories of the men there. They were men of great courage."
Struggling with her uncertainty, she realized the Indians were gone. She stood now, staring out the window, at the dust they left behind. She could not contemplate her life any longer. She was here, she was safe, and she liked the work here. But where did she and her child belong? To suddenly have no roots made her feel as though she did not belong anywhere.
They called her a breed, even the Indians looked upon her differently than their own.
Was there a place for her and her child?
A silent tear slipped down her cheek, she hoped she could find that place someday.
Chapter Six
Two days later, Clay got up and prepared to take his bath in the creek. He made it a habit to bath at least once a week, more in the summer months. It was barely dawn and no one would be around. He grabbed a bar of lye soap and a cloth to dry on and brought a change of clothes.
He was walking toward the creek when he heard someone humming. He had his rifle with him, so he was prepared.
But as he got closer, he was stunned into silence as he saw Willa feeding her baby in the creek, totally naked. The site of her mesmerized him, he couldn't move. His loins reacted immediately, and it embarrassed him that he reacted so quickly, but he'd never seen such a beautiful site, nor a more beautiful woman.
Her face was serene and happy as she smiled with such love for her child.
Totally uninhibited, Willa sat on a rock close to the banks, she was humming as her baby fed from her breast.
Clay swallowed hard, he couldn't take his eyes from her, she was so lovely. When Elan finished his meal, she carried him to the bank and laid him on a blanket, then stretched in the early dawn of day. "Sleep my pet, I will return and bath you too, in a moment."
She walked back to the creek and sat on the same rock and washed herself. With every movement of her body, Clay's body reacted. He knew he shouldn't be watching her like this. It was low down, disgraceful, but how could a man, any man take his eyes from her. She had let her long hair loose and it flowed down her back like a cloud of black ribbon. She raised her arms and washed then soaped up her body.
Clay's mouth went dry when she stood up and went into the water to rinse herself. She washed her hair, leaning backwards she gathered it in a pile on top her head, and as she did her breast which were small but ample, danced above the water's edge. Clay's mouth went dry. Her nipples were a dark dusty rose color, so pronounced and peaked, they stood pertly, as she rinsed them. She scrubbed everywhere and Clay swallowed hard when she came out of the water. Her figure was something to behold, he stared from her shoulders, to her breasts, then down to her tapering waist to a very flat stomach, and further to the sweet dark mound of hair at her core. Her hips flared, then to her long beautiful legs.
Clay swallowed hard. Dear God, she was so beautiful. He could not have dreamed a more perfect woman. She dried off and stood facing the sun. He admired the sweet curve of her butt too. "Thank you for this beautiful day." She said to the heavens.
God I'm sorry, I shouldn't be watching, but you created this beautiful woman, how can I not appreciate her.
He knew he should move away, but she took Elan again now and took his clothes off and bathed him. He gurgled at the water and she smiled so tenderly into his face that Clay lost complete control of himself. He'd never done that before in his life.
He nearly cursed. Angry with himself for indulging in her privacy, he marched back to the cabin and threw his shirt and pants on the stall gate. "Damn!"
How could he have done that? How could he have ogled her like that. That was a private time for her and her child.
How could he have reacted in such a way. He'd seen naked women before, so what made her so different. Why her?
All day he was in a bad mood and didn't know quite what to think of himself. He was a Christian man, and what he had done was not right. But he couldn't apologize, she never knew he was there.
The guilt plagued him.
"What's wrong with you son, you been fretting all day. Get up on the wrong side of your bed?" Charlie asked that afternoon when Clay's frown wouldn't go away.
"You ever done anything you were ashamed of, dad?"
"Plenty of times. Why?"
"Well, I have too, and I'm angry at myself."
"You want to talk about it?"
"No!" Clay bit his head off with his reply. "I'm sorry, I can't talk about it."
"That bad, huh?" Charlie frowned.
"I'd say so." Clay frowned too.
