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I saddled Bob and rigged a scabbard up for the rifle, powder, caps and shot.She took the job of outrider for our short wagon train, but usually stayed in sight.The second afternoon, I saw her stop and get down from Bob. I clucked the team up into a trot and hurried to get closer. I had my revolver in hand when I saw her shoot.She immediately reloaded and mounted up. I got there about the time she mounted. We rode across a meadow and got to a large buck deer that Naomi had killed. It must have been over a hundred and twenty-five yards away. A fine shot by anyone's standards."I certainly don't want you shooting at me," I teased."Thanks," she answered.We dragged the deer over to a convenient tree and skinned it and cleaned and prepared the meat.By the time we had finished with the deer it was time to camp. We found an acceptable place nearby and had some roasted venison for supper. Naomi cleaned up her gun while I fleshed the hide.We set up to dry the meat to be able to use as much as. I was so deeply in need of money... And I took it. See? Not rape. I was a whore that night."Alvaro gave her an angry frown. "Don't ever think that! You were violated and traumatized. Afterwards, in the following days, did you feel ashamed, or did you think that the sex was a good exchange for the money?"Megan shuddered and bit her lip. "I remember. My shame was intense, nightmares... Okay, I get your point. I'm not a whore." She petted him for a while. "My second man..." Megan?" Alvaro whispered, his eyes openly pleading with her."No, it's okay Alvaro. I want to tell you. This one you should know about. Mansur was a fellow grad student from Saudi Arabia majoring in business administration. He was older than I was, about ten years my senior. We dated casually for almost a year. And then things got serious. I started wearing headscarves, started to learn his culture. We made love with each other. Mansur was disappointed the night he found out I wasn't a virgin, but afterwards he didn't.
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I followed them.As I was sitting on the bleacher watching one of the other coaches -- her name was Elizabeth I was to find out later -- approached me when the next break came.“How many sets did you see this time?” Liz asked.“Only four.”“How many kills?”“What’s a kill?”“When you make a point.”“Oh, only one, I think.”“Hmm. How many attacks?”“I don’t know. What’s an attack?”“When they try for a kill but the other side recovers.”“Three.”“And you saw all of that?”“Yeah. I was watching.”“Do you like to watch?”“I like to watch Sue.” I said, chuckling.“I bet you do. But would you like to watch them all the time?”“All the time? I don’t know.”“When they play.”“I guess so.”“Hmm, okay. How about you watch next time and try to count sets, attacks and kills.”“Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do. It’ll be fun.”With that Liz walked away and talked to Ms. Heller. I found out later that Ms. Heller was the head coach and Liz was only an assistant but they kept looking back at me as they talked. I tried.

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