Wallace talked to Lord Ragan about ale and his tavern business and complained about local taxes, as all business owners inevitably did when he chatted...with them. Ragan simply nodded and let him get it off his chest as he sipped his ale. Ragan looked over to see Simmons now sat at another table playing a dice game with some local farmhands.Wallace the tavern owner went to the other end of the bar for a moment and spoke with a boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen years of age. They were in. But of course, that wouldn't have worked at all. Not yet. There could have been complications--guilt and shock and embarrassment. Backing away, she had saved them all that, spared them the agonies of indecision."Come on," she hissed to Chuck, and still holding him by the prick, led him tiptoeing past the collapsed pair on the living room floor. Since she knew their house almost as well as her own, Regina steered Chuck into the nearest bedroom, one right off the hall where they could peep out at. As winter approached, I had her come out to the farm numerous times. Once to give her a safety class on operating and being around tractors. Another to select the seed and get it ordered. She even came out after a snow to get some practice operating a tractor. As I got to know her during these trips, she opened up about her childless situation. The doctors told her that everything checked out fine with her, but her husband refused to give a sperm sample. Said he wasn't jacking off in a cup for. Grabbing the binoculars, she picked her way carefully towards the pitching area, anxious to minimize her exposure. She used the field glasses to scan the horizon to locate anything out of the ordinary.As she followed the path of a dried up river bed, she detected the first hint of trouble. The sun had reached its zenith and reflected briefly off something shiny, high up on the southern ridge overlooking the site. She switched the binoculars to their highest magnification setting, the electronic.
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