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“They stood up and the world was totally different. The wheat was an onyx sea, ever moving in shadow. Above it the heavens were illuminated with the wink of stars and planets, the Milky Way like a giant streak of glimmer slashing across the sky. She was standing right next to him, awed by the beauty of the night sky and their tiny, tiny place in it. It seemed perfectly natural that he leaned down to gently press his lips to her temple. It wasn’t a kiss really, it was a consolation. “Take my hand,” he said. D.J. could see nothing as he unerringly led her through the darkened grain to the edge of the field.”

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“He, the stranger, was speaking to her brother Jesse. The sun was at his back and it shone around him like a golden halo. Even from the distance she could see that he was handsome in a curious way. He was finely dressed and worthily shod. Real pince-nez spectacles of circular glass were perched upon his nose. And his trim form and deignful expression gave him a princely air. Meggie's eyes widened. Her heart beat faster and the blood sped through her veins. A prince. Her prince.”

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“It was that reader that she'd found in Mama's trunk. At the schoolhouse they had McGuffey, good lessons about good boys and girls. But Meggie had found the worn, faded book of fairy tales. They had been much more interesting than the stern admonitions of McGuffey. And her imagination had taken flight. Fanciful, that's what her father had called it. And when she'd read about Rapunzel, she'd decided that none of the local boys would ever do. A real prince was coming up the mountain for Meggie Best someday. She was sure of it. Unfortunately, this morning she'd thought that he'd arrived.”

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“He pulled her close and kissed her. Happiness and joy settled around them like a warm cloak. And gentleness spurred passion. His kiss deepened and a soft, low moan eased out of his throat. He wiggled on the bed beneath her, letting her feel the resurgence of his passion inside her. "I'm ready to do it again," he said plainly. "You can't do it twice," she answered, giggling. "Why not?" "You just can't," Althea told him. "Men do it one time and then they rest up for a day or two." "I think I'm rested up enough," he told her. "Jesse, I know what I'm talking about," she said with confidence. "I was married for over two years. And I know all about it. You can't be ready to do it again." He proved her wrong.”

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“Jesse squeezed her breasts ardently. "I just love your round parts, Miss Althea. They are just about the best things I ever felt in my life." He proved his enthusiasm for them by kneading, manipulating, and caressing until Althea was standing on her tiptoes, every muscle in her body straining to give him better access. "Oh, Miss Althea," he said finally, removing his hands from her body. "This is the most fun I ever had in my life." He was breathing as if he'd just run up the mountain, pulling Granny Piggott on the skid.”

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“Miss Althea?" "I don't blame you, Jesse," she said at last, taking control of her whirling emotions. "I must have…I must have led you astray somehow. But you must never touch me again." Jesse's disappointment was palpable. "Never?" That seemed impossible. To be allowed to know how wonderful it was to feel and smell and taste her and then to never be allowed that again. It was so unfair. Jesse wanted to cry. It was too unfair.”

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“The barking of the dogs was getting louder, closer once more. Jesse's finger curled around the trigger. He tried to still his mind from all thoughts. But the image of Miss Althea lingered. Sweet-smelling Miss Althea with her warm smile and her so very round parts. She never looked at him mean or like she was afraid. She looked at him loving, warm and loving, like she looked at the boy. She looked at Jesse that way. And he liked it. He really liked it. But he wanted it different, too. He was not a boy. Jesse was a man. He wanted Miss Althea to see that. He wanted to put meat on her table. That's what men do for the women they love.”

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“He simply had to trust the dogs. On the hunt, man and dogs were always a team. With Jesse, perhaps this was more true than with most. Most men, knowing themselves to be a lot smarter than the dogs, often overruled their judgment. Jesse, not thinking himself much smarter than anything, did not. He often relied upon his own instincts. He therefore had more respect for instinct, perhaps, than a man who normally relied upon intellect. The mind of the dog was in many ways as simple and uncomplicated as Jesse's own. He was taught to memorize actions in places he couldn't reason, and obey in situations that he did not understand. When he did understand he followed his instinct. His instincts assured him that as hunter, the dog was at least the equal of man. And for scenting and tracking, the dog was superior.”

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“Why are you starting there?" Roe asked as he followed the young man curiously. Confused, Jesse looked down at the ground and then at the mule before he shrugged. "This is where I always start," he said. "This is where Pa showed me to start." Roe shook his head. "Well, that doesn't make sense, Jesse. You should start at the edge and go to the edge." Jesse gazed at one edge of the field and then at the other. His brow furrowed in concentration. "That ain't right," he said. "Of course it's right," Roe told him, smiling. "It makes perfect sense. Starting in the middle doesn't make any sense at all." Jesse bit his lip nervously as again he surveyed the field. "We got to start right here, Roe. I know we do." Roe sighed and shook his head. "Now, Jesse, you just told me yourself that I was smarter than folks around here. And I told you that a smart man can make light work of his labors. You do believe that, don't you?" Jesse nodded solemnly. "Then you've got to trust me when I tell you that the place to begin is at the beginning, not in the middle." To Roe's horror, tears welled up in Jesse's bright blue eyes. "We got to start right here," he insisted. "This is where Pa taught me to start and it's the way I know." Alarmed at the young man's emotion, Roe voluntarily touched his shoulder in an uncertain attempt to comfort him. "It's all right, Jesse. Don't cry," he said. "I ain't crying," the young man insisted through his tears. "I'm too big to cry.”

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“Suddenly, from the depths of that chair emerged the biggest, meanest-looking dog Jesse had ever seen. One side of his face had suffered some disfiguring injury. The jaw hung slack and the eye on that side was missing. Jesse froze in her tracks, terrified that she might be mauled by this monstrosity of a pet. She glanced around, looking for a stick or a rock or anything to defend herself. There was nothing close but she was afraid to move. Surely if the animal were dangerous, Floyd and Alice Fay would have said something. Jesse waited tensely for a moment before realizing the dog wasn’t so much growling or barking as he was howling; loudly, purposefully howling. “She don’t bite,” a voice called out. “She’s my hillbilly alarm system, letting me know that they’s strangers about.”

Pamela MorsiThe Lovesick CureAunt Will
Book:The Lovesick Cure
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“You young folks today think you invented the world,” Aunt Will said. “Still, a dash of unlawful scrumping might work for you. A lot more folks have tried that recipe than my own, even if we don’t hear testimonials.” She chuckled naughtily at that suggestion. Jesse giggled a bit herself. The important thing was that her aunt was nodding and smiling again. “But beware, DuJess,” Aunt Will told her. “Every cure has its side effects. It only seems fair to warn you. I suspect that a regular tonic of Piney Baxley can be potently habit forming.”

Pamela MorsiThe Lovesick CureAunt Will
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“Piney woke up wearing a big grin on his face. He couldn’t remember when he’d slept so well. He pulled the pillow next to him up over his face. He could smell her hair on it. “Jesse,” he murmured to himself. He liked her. He really liked her. And he loved, loved, loved doing her. Being inside her. She was so hot. She was so tight. She was… Piney stopped himself in midthought and rolled out of bed. His mind was headed where his body could not go.”

Pamela MorsiThe Lovesick CurePiney
Book:The Lovesick Cure
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“Madge did the honors. “Are you…keeping company with Doc Piney?” Jesse answered carefully. “We are not dating, but we are seeing a lot of each other.” Factually true. Revealing nothing. The three women sat silently for a long moment, sharing glances with each other. “You know he has a sad history,” Walter Lou said finally. “Of course she knows,” Madge said immediately. “Everybody knows. The question is are you planning on breaking that man’s heart again?” The suggestion was not at all what Jesse expected. She stuttered out an answer. “I…I don’t…I don’t think Piney knows me well enough to get his heart broken,” she managed finally. “Oh, Lord, girl,” Madge said. “He’s a Baxley. A more lovelorn line of men never graced the earth.” “That’s the truth of that,” Walter Lou agreed. “Those men dote on their women something fierce.”

Pamela MorsiThe Lovesick Cure
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