Okay?”“Okay. Sounds simple enough.”“Now, Missy. Push the red button.”I pushed the button and the motor purred to life. Finally, we would hav... water in the house again. I wouldn’t have to carry buckets in from the well. It had been a very hot week and to not have water in the house had been very frustrating.Mr. Simmons came back into the pump house. He was smiling from ear to ear. He was a very handsome man for his age. Mom had said he was in his fifties. He sure didn’t look that old. I guess. AndI think that was the point when I realised I'd have to face up to thesituation and tell her it was all over.=*=Her other hand starts at my ankle. The ankle clad in a sheer blackstocking with a red Cuban heel and arrow-straight seam. The ankle thatshe zipped into a black leather knee boot with straps and buckles runningup the back. The ankle that was bound to her bedpost with a scarf - justlike its opposite number.Slowly, she trails her fingertips along the tight plastic. Up, over mycalf,. More

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