"I'll sleep in the wagon," she said as the fire died down."You got a blanket?"She shook her head. "Won't need it. This shawl's pretty heavy." You can share mine," I said, essaying a smile.She smiled back. "Don't think so," she said.So I slept with my feet toward the fire's embers, and in the cool of early morning she joined me for an hour or two. Then we got back on the road and by the time the sun was high we had reached a tavern where five or six houses, a small mill and a smithy's cold forge leaned together by a fast-moving stream. Smoke hung over all of them.I sat in the ordinary enjoying a good, frothy ale while the woman dickered with the inn-keeper about the price of her liquor in various kinds of money. She ended up selling it for two dollars a gallon, local paper, probably a good price for the times. Then she came and sat with me, and we enjoyed a decent meal and some polite conversation.We were about to part and go our separate ways as soon as I found a horse I could buy. " Mostly Celia," she said making no move to show him.She sipped the beer. The radiance from the lamps wasrelaxing her. She rested her head against the wall andclosed her eyes."I think you should let me see what you're wearing forour swim," she suggested.He removed his shoes and socks while Celia drank thelast of her beer. She was getting a gentle buzz andheard herself giggle, "More."He paused with his shirt over his head, "More beer ormore Stephan?" "Oh, more both." Well, I brought a six-pack and ... " he pulled offthe shirt with a flourish and tossed it in her lap.Celia picked it up and pressed her face into thecloth. Her insides seemed to flip as she breathed inhis scent, felt his body heat. She looked up at him,his arms, his shoulders and felt an awful yearning.Reaching into the bag for another beer she chanted,"More beer, more Stephan, more beer, more Stephan."He slid down his zipper and Celia tipped the bottleand gulped. Midnight swims were suddenly a wonderfulidea.When Stephan's.
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