“Victoria,” he repeated, “the far edge please,” he motioned with his hand for her to reach further forward with her hands. She flushed red. Di... he see her staring at his crotch? Oh my god, he did, she thought, and became so flustered that, without thinking, she automatically followed his direction. By the time her hands had reached the far edge she realized, too late, that her kilt had now risen up another few inches and was exposing the lower curves of her bottom.A bottom, she realized, that. Since his father’s death ten years ago, his mother had rented the pastures to neighbors, so she could afford the upkeep and stay independent. Instead of milkers, the barn was filled with city folk’s horses — weekend cowboys, buying a slice of the country life. Sam turned into the driveway. His mother sat on the porch swing, reading the newspaper, like every summer night. Parking the pickup in back, Sam entered the kitchen. Chris was at the table, dunking fresh baked oatmeal-raisin cookies in a. More

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