The Willow Promise

"Do you love her? I mean...love love her?"

"I think so."

That was perhaps the worst of all. Still, Davis forged ahead.

"Mutually assured destruction."

"What's that?"

"Something we learned about in school." Davis said. His favorite subject besides agricultural studies had been another bloody one, history. "If the Russkies launch their nukes we launch ours, so neither side does, because it'd destroy 'em both."

Ty perked up a little. "Do you mean so there can be peace?"

"Well...more like a threat. A promise. Do you want to make me a promise tonight?" Davis leaned back up against the willow tree, not daring to smile.

Ripley's was the name of the local restaurant, hardware store and social center of town. The tagline of the old business was, "Believe It!", spelled out in a big sign on the side of the road. The same family, the Ripleys, operated the Museum of Ranch Oddities right across the street. It was all a cheesy tourist trap to snag folks driving through to more interesting locales. Both places did a fair amount of business, locals and otherwise.

Ina wasn't here to see two headed calves in formaldehyde or the "life-sized" effigy of the Indian skinwalker legend. She had some special shopping to do. The place had a small bakery where you could get the birthday boy's name written on the cake, or in this case, the birthday boys.

"Have it say, 'To my Growing Boys, Ty and Davis,' and then, 'Love, Mama.'" She told the baker. And then in a scathing tone, "You're not going to put 'and then' on there, are you, Dick?"

"No, ma'am." He smiled oddly back at her. "I made that mistake once back in 1968 and I've never lived it down."

"That ain't the only mistake you made back then." Ina returned the smile in a mean way, even knowing that it would set him off. He'd lock his gaze on her, a purposeful studying she hated. She didn't care. She loathed him, so it was worth it.

Dick the baker was a perennial bachelor, a rarity in a small town. There was a good reason for it. Also in 1968 Dick's older brother Roy had come back from 'Nam. Physically, Roy was fine, but something else had gotten into him over there, they said. Before he had left Roy had asked his brother to watch over his family. The war had been terrible enough, but Roy had come home to ruination, as well.

The rumor was that Dick had done some things so awful to both his niece and sister in law that they had taken to sleeping in the outbuildings on their farms, where the fencing and tools were kept. Neither woman had accused him of anything and Dick surely wasn't confessing. Either way, Roy came home, got wind of it and tried to shoot his own brother with his Army issue M1911A1. Only then were the police called and Roy taken into custody, his daughter and wife shipped off to relatives out of state. All that remained of the whole mess were rumors and Dick himself, working at the bakery as he always had.

Ina finalized the order, paid in advance with some hacked up dollar bills and then took the rest of her order to the till. Working the cash register today was Evie Sanchez, a teenager at the high school an hour bus ride away. When she saw Ina approaching she gave a little twitch of the corner of her mouth, not an unfriendly gesture, but more pensive.

"Howdy, ma'am. How're Ty and Davis? Things at the ranch?"

"Hey. We're good, thanks. You and yours?"

"It's just daddy and me since Billy went off to college, as you know. And daddy's doing fine and so am I, thank you." Evie was holding up each can of coffee or tuna and bag of lunch meat or potato chips to peer at the stickers left there by a trigger happy price gun wielding fellow employee of hers.

Ripley's only had so many people on the payroll, so Ina bagged her own groceries. It was all second nature to her, manual labor, her hands making short work of the simple little job. As Evie rang up and she bagged, Ina studied the reflections of the both of them in the shop's security mirror. Evie was lightly complected, slim. She dyed her long black hair with blonde streaks, perhaps to keep men's eyes away from the fact that even at 17 she didn't have much in the way of breasts to show off. Her rear end only barely filled out the seat of her jeans.

In comparison Ina thought anyone would say that even at 34 she was prettier than a teenager. Well, she corrected herself as she bagged, that's hardly fair. Evie is Mexican.

"Ms. McMasters," Evie said in a low voice, breaking into her reverie. "I got to ask you...why are you always engaging Dick at the bakery?"

"Engaging, Evie?"

"Yeah." She lowered her voice even more. "You know the things they say he did. Why talk to him when you come in here? Sometimes he gives me looks that make my skin crawl, I don't mind telling you."

"He doesn't feel bad about it all," Ina said. "He needs to. That's how I feel, anyway."

Evie had more questions, but the few purchases had all been ticked off and bagged. Ina paid with more battered about paper money, thanked the younger woman and left the store.

In the parking lot, some braceros were trying to drum up work, but some had broken off to help some folks change a tire, probably also trying to cadge but going about it more cleverly. The Mexicans were barking up the wrong tree. The couple in the car were tourists through and through, Ina knew right away. The car, their clothing, all of it looked imported, far too rich for this little cattle town. The "Reno Roughriders Basketball" bumper sticker was just icing on the cake.

The husband was helping the Mexicans or trying to shoo them off, Ina couldn't tell. All of them caught sight of her as she deposited her groceries in the cab of her old truck. She knew what they were looking at. The same thing men had been looking at since she was eleven years old. She ignored the inscrutable dark faces of the laborers and focused on the big city man, the hotshot from Reno.

The guy's jaw almost dropped. He had only encountered leathery faced ranch women around here, Ina knew. Nothing like her. She was just an inch of five feet, but had the figure of a woman much taller, splendid long legs and all. Work filled out her form to that of a dancer, the grace of which on horseback she also possessed. From the way she walked a man could always tell that she had exuberant grace for other kinds of rides, as well. With her dark eyes and dirty blonde hair Ina was a quintessential bright eyed country beauty with just a touch of age to her around the eyes and mouth. The youthful body and the gaze that was full of mature heat drew a lot of looks around town. And beyond, apparently.

The wife from Reno caught her husband looking and yelled something that was unintelligible but promising of future retribution. Ina grinned to herself, slammed shut the door and roared off.

That night, both boys had a fresh crop of bruises, but Ina didn't say a word. Sometimes they needed to work things out among themselves, the way real men did. Not like their father at all, in that way.

She had to do most of the singing herself, but once she started handing out pieces of cake Ty and Davis perked up a little. Especially that Davis, always so damned mopey, too smart for his own good. In that way he was like his dad.

A few years back, the Federal government had decreed that their child support laws overruled all state laws. Ina had sent a letter to the boy's father. What happened next was a whirlwind that nearly swept her and her boys off of their ranch and into poverty.

She hadn't talked to Earl for a long time, since he'd agreed to let them live on the ranch. Last she heard, the roly poly fuck had married another 16 year old girl with the permission of her parents and tried to escape yet again. It took a bit of sleuthing, but Ina had tracked him down, and tried to hold him liable for what he'd done to her.

Doubtless Earl received letters from a half dozen women in as many states west of Illinois. The response was probably all the same, too. Her twin's father was a powerful man, a wealthy landowner. Earl's lawyer, a professionally disagreeable Jew named Weiss, had made it faultlessly clear that she was outmatched before she even began. Any paternity suits and child support orders, Weiss said in an Eastern accent that sounded as thick as porridge to her ears that day over the telephone, would be met with a litigious holocaust that would blow her country fried mind. Just stay on the goddamn land you were given and count yourself lucky, he snapped right before he hung up.

That was the last gasp of hope she'd ever have, Ina knew, as she laid the receiver down on the cradle, trying to stay calm. She had no money to do anything else. The ranch produced just enough income to keep her chained to it, nothing more. Even the unmarried men in town who hungered for the husky voiced country gal knew she wouldn't entertain them if they weren't also willing to take on her boys, work her land and herds. There was no selling the ranch and moving on, either; it was owned by Earl, not her. A lifetime of indentured servitude.

It was also the first time she began to take what had been building with her and Ty seriously. Both her sons had been abandoned by their father, all alone in the world. So was she. Ty did less of his own thinking than his brother and was therefore less apt to leave her. He didn't overthink things or ask her about college or the Navy. The Navy! And the ranch was 500 miles from the ocean.

They were both 19 tonight, and she was happy to see they were wearing something she'd gotten each of them for their last birthdays. Very considerate and clever of them, and she told them so. They'd liked the cake but hadn't paid much attention to the effort she had gone into to have it personalized. Growing boys, like it had said, for twenty seconds until they'd demolished it.

Time for the presents. She had gotten Davis something nice, mail order, a new jacket and a strong pair of cowhide gloves. He thanked her with a surprising amount of sincerity and enthusiasm, for him.

"Thanks, mom." He said, up close to her all the sudden. "I needed these."

He gave her a paper dry peck on her cheek that she returned. "Happy birthday."

Ty was unwrapping his tiny wrapped box. When she had handed his brother a big heavy package and him his tiny one she had expected Ty to protest in his whiny, joking way or at least make a face. But he'd quietly accepted it and waited patiently until it was his turn, even.

"A harmonica." He opened the wooden box, raised the thing to his lips and gave a little toot. "What for?"

"To play outside here." Ina told him with a warm smile. She was close enough to take his hand but didn't, not in front of his brother. "It sounds really pretty in wide open spaces."

Ty thanked her and snapped the box shut, put it in his pocket. Ina shot him a sideways look that promised he'd get more of a present later tonight. He smiled slowly at her.

Davis took his new clothes into his room and reappeared shortly after, saying he was calling it an early night and not to wait up.

"Happy birthday, baby!" Ina called after him.

"Thank you, mom." The door closed shut behind him.

"Well," She said with feeling to Ty. "I think we ought to be getting on, too. Tomorrow's another early day. Goodnight, son."

"Goodnight."

"I love you."

"You, too."

The nighttime was always theirs, a secret shared destination. On these nights Ina could scarcely breathe. This was still all relatively new, the actual consummation of it. The yearning had begun earlier, and Ty was eager, but Ina had made him wait. It was ridiculous to say so, but it wouldn't have been proper otherwise.

There had been a great deal of teaching, at first, when Ty had become a man. For all of his skills on horseback and on the ranch, his age, his build, his strength, her son was still a boy. Long ago than she cared to admit, Ina had been initiated into the ways of womanhood by someone who was uncaring and didn't love her. It was the same man who had given her the twins, in fact, and she hadn't known very many others in her life. But she knew enough and loved Ty enough to make sure his first was hopefully his best.

She was so wrapped up in memories that she barely heard him creak lightly over the floorboards and out the back door. A trill of excitement went through her, and despite all her years and wisdom Ina had to resist a very real urge to scamper right after him. No, they must never arouse suspicion.

Once, she had been sleeping lightly when she started awake in the darkness to see two faces in the window, leering at her. Two cousins of the Tanner family, she surmised. Ina had pretended to just be asleep that time but made Ty aware the next day. A week later the cousins had tried again, but this time were sent off by Ty on horseback. He'd chased them for a bit with his whip until he was sure they wouldn't ever come in peeking in windows again. Ina made sure to show her appreciation that night.

Speaking of...she hadn't checked her watch, but surely enough time had passed. From the moment her door had shut Ina had been getting ready. She hated going to him, stinking of the stables, so of course on the few nights a week they set aside Ina would make sure she was clean for him and vice versa. But not too scrubbed: she liked a little bit of manly smell to him.

Tonight, of course, was special. She was wearing a coral pink chiffon dress gown, not the most practical ranch wear but she liked how it was sheer and clung to her, nevertheless. Thankfully, it was dry outside, and Ina hoped her sandals didn't crunch too loudly over the grass as she made her way to the shed.

Ty was wearing the same pajama pants that he was when she last saw him. Ina let her disappointment show on her face.

"Couldn't even get all dressed up for me, like I did for you?" She twirled and smiled at him, cocking a hip saucily. Once, 20 years ago, she had placed runner up in a teen beauty pageant and liked to think she still had some moves left in her.

He didn't speak a word for once, as he usually babbled to cover up the initial awkwardness before they really began. Feeling that she waited enough, Ina melted into his arms.

His first kisses were hesitant, exploratory. It was funny, how she had been thinking of their first time together, unfathomably approximately a year ago. Ty was reminding her of that now, as he almost chastely pressed his lips to hers. Ina responded by thrusting her breasts against him, arms squeezing around his neck as she matched his reticence with fire.

Finally, her young lover melted into her, breath easing out of him as if from a sieve, and he dropped his hands from her waist to the chiffon fabric molded against her backside, rubbed deeply. Ina raised her leg, powerfully muscled from years of throwing it over horses, and ground her knee authoritatively into her son's crotch. The thin fabric of the pajamas he was wearing couldn't have allowed for any modesty anyway, but after a few long moments of that she felt him responding. This only made her kiss him harder and when he tried to pull away she dropped her own hands to his backside, thrusting his hips forward, and grunting with satisfaction when Ty submitted to her once again, returning her deep, wet kisses.

Ina finally broke their embrace, narrowing her eyes, breathing very hard through her nose. She always wanted to do more for him, to make love with him not in a shed, but openly, in her own bed, where, in her mind, Ty rightly belonged. But they mustn't, the risk of discovery was too great. She padded to one of the walls of the shed, where tools were hung, and got a thick horse blanket, threw it on the floor. Thank god the shed was well constructed, free of drafts. The rest of the outbuildings on the ranch were moldy dumps.

"Strip," Ina told him in her best mommy tone, the tone that meant there was no arguing. Even so, he was slow to obey, almost shy. She snapped her fingers, the percussion of callused flesh as loud as small caliber gunfire.

"Just for that," She said when he was naked. "On your hands and knees. You're getting your birthday present now like a naughty stallion."

Ty looked almost frightened as he hastened to obey. She noted with approval that despite all of his out of character prissiness his young cock was good and hard, standing out straight from his thatch of pubic hair. Ina laid opposite of him, her head at his knees, and scooted until she was partially under him.

She splayed her hands over his flat belly, the smooth flesh of his round pectoral, and finally down right into the sweet spot, where they both wanted. Her thumb and forefinger encircled his root, her grip, as always, straddling the line between forceful pleasure and pain. Just enough pressure to keep him spellbound, she thought as she nodded in satisfaction at the sight of him. Good boy.

"Good boy," Ina said. "Happy 19th, son."

By then he was more than ready. Ina opened her mouth and went to work. It wasn't the easiest position to be in for either of them, but she wanted to try something novel with him tonight, and here it was. Once she figured out to brace her neck and head with her free hand it went much easier for her.

Not so much for Ty. Less than a minute into it he was already trembling and she was astonished to find him leaking. He hadn't shown this much enthusiasm for a while. She decided it was worth a nice reward.

"On your back," She said as she shimmied out from underneath him. With languid movements, like a cat settling in for a long nap, Ina skimmed off her gown to reveal she was wearing nothing underneath. The expensive garment went on the most cobweb free hook in the shed she could find.

"You ain't said much." Ina observed aloud. She also watched as he took in the naked sight of her, still tremulous with desire and staved off satisfaction. It pleased her, made her shiver along with him. To feel wanted. It was intoxicating and they hadn't even begun yet. How could this possibly be wrong?

He opened his mouth to speak but Ina headed that off at the pass. She squatted astride his face and pretended that it was a saddle on the back of a Lippitt Morgan. When Ty had a taste of that, his tongue sliding along her sweetly parted folds so he could breathe her in, she settled herself on her left hand and forearm, using her right in conjunction again with her mouth to give him what was surely going to be only one of his presents.

This time, Ty got over whatever was holding him back this evening and she had his heels kicking the blanket frantically in a few minutes. Ina expertly slackened off the pace of gliding her silken mouth over him, feeling him delightfully responsive to her teasing licks as she wound him down. He wasn't doing anything special between her legs, but then again, like a lot of men Ty had never taken the time to ask her about doing any better. Oh well, she thought. That will be next week's lesson. As inexpert as he was with it, his tongue did serve to sharpen her appetite for the main course.

Ty wanted it, too. Ina had done her best to train him, but he was still only 19, and overly eager, a spirited young stallion who needed plenty of breaking. Maybe ten or so years from now he'd have more patience and care. But now he only knew how to do one thing, or at least had an idea of how to do it, and it was all he ever wanted in the world. Tonight, that worked just fine for Ina, too: she rolled on her back, all limbs wide for his embrace.

He didn't disappoint her, kneeling between her legs and lowering himself down onto her. The touch of all that hard flesh against hers was enough to make her explode, such was the desire that had already stoked within her. Ina pressed him against her, arms around his powerful shoulders, legs cinched tight around his waist. After a bit of fumbling he slid himself home.