"Yes, Papa."
"Did the Thompson boy come running out after you a moment later, huffing and puffing like some dogs after a bitch in heat?"
"He wasn't running after me, exactly, Papa. We . . ."
"Were you buttoning your blouse when you came out of the forest?" he demanded.
"Buttoning my blouse? Oh no, Papa. Emily's lying if she said that," I protested.
"Unbutton your blouse," he ordered.
"What, Papa?"
"You heard me, unbutton your blouse. Go on."
I did so quickly. He stepped closer and looked down at me, his gaze falling on the tops of my breasts. When he was this close to me, I couldn't help but smell his bourbon and mint. It was stronger than ever.
"Did you let this boy put his hand in there?" he asked, nodding toward my exposed bosom. For a moment, I couldn't respond. I blushed so fast and so hard, I thought I would faint at his feet. It was as if Papa had somehow been able to eavesdrop on my fantasies.
"No, Papa."
"Close your eyes," he ordered. I did so. A moment later, I felt his fingers on my chest. They were so hot to the touch, I thought they would burn my skin. "Keep your eyes closed," he demanded when I opened them. I closed them again and he moved his fingers down until I felt them reach the top of my bosom and turn into my small but distinct cleavage as if he was measuring the rise in my breasts. There, they rested for a moment and then he pulled them back. I opened my eyes.
"Was that what he did to you?" he asked in a raspy voice.
"No, Papa," I said, my lips and my chin trembling.
"All right," he said, and cleared his throat. "Now button your blouse as quickly as you can. Go on." He stood back and folded his arms across his chest and watched.
I buttoned my blouse as fast as I could, but my fingers fumbled terribly with the buttons.
"Uh-huh," he said like a detective. "That's the way Emily claims she saw you fumbling when you came running out."
"She's lying, Papa!"
"Now, you listen here," he said. "Your Mamma doesn't know about this yet because Emily came straight to me. We're lucky it was just Emily and not a bunch of other folks who saw you come out of the woods, alone with a boy, buttoning up your blouse."
"But Papa . . ."
He held up his hand.
"I know what it's like when a healthy young girl blooms into womanhood overnight. All you have to do is watch some of our farm animals in heat and you understand the fire in the blood," Papa said. "I don't want to hear no more stories about you and boys crawling around in the dark of the forest or in some secret places to do ungodly things, do you understand, Lillian? Do you?" he pursued.
"Yes, Papa," I said, my head lowered. Emily had spoken and her words were as good as Gospel around here, I thought sadly, especially in Papa's eyes.
"Good. Now your Mamma don't know about any of this and don't have to be bothered about it, so don't say anything about my visit here today, understand?"
"Yes, Papa."
"I'll be watching you more carefully now, Lillian, looking after you more. I just didn't realize how fast you were growing." He stepped closer to me again and put his hand on my hair so gently I had to look up surprised. "You're going to be beautiful and I don't want no sex-crazy young boy spoiling you, hear?"
I nodded, too shocked to speak. He thought a moment and then nodded at his own thoughts.
"Yes," he said, "I can see where have to take more of a role in your upbringing. Georgia, she's lost to those romantic stories of hers, stories that have got nothing to do with reality. One day soon, you and I will sit down and have a grown-up discussion about what goes on between men and women and what you've got to watch out for when it comes to young men." He almost smiled, his eyes twinkling with a brightness that made him look younger for a moment. "I should know. I was a young man once."
The near smile left his face quickly.
"But until then, you walk the stra