I feel like a mime in slow motion. The movements flow gracefully, naturally, with only the silence between us now. I utter the sacred words, “I love...you.” Tears form in your eyes. Little pearls of your life water well from your jewels. Unabashedly I kiss them tasting the salty residue of your pain. My face slides down precipitously my lips meeting yours. The sacrament of our love is to be realized in the blessed conjunction of our bodies. My tongue plunges into your warm mouth and our two. I went over to where the four beaten members of the Harter family were lying. They looked even worse out in the open than they had in the wagon. Mrs. Harter's face was swollen and bruised. She had large bruises on her arms and legs and her right leg was definitely broken below the knee.Andy came up as I was looking them over. "Andy, have you ever set a broken bone?" I asked."No. I've seen it done on a man's arm. Do you want me to help?" Yeah, I think so. Mrs. Harter needs to be taken care of. More

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