Free Unto These Hills by Emily Sue Harvey

Francine, Timmy, Sheila, Daniel and I had found in the woods, chopped down, and decorated with Mama’s box of ornaments, drew my gaze and I found myself calming before its simple rustic beauty and symbolism. I inhaled its pungent pine fragrance. Yuletide visions from years gone by, ones mingled with both joy and pain, assailed me. I opened my eyes. I’ve got to start celebrating the good rather than grieving the lost.
    I would see Daddy briefly when he came bearing us gifts. I would cling to that.
    I hugged Sheila to me, willing comfort to spill from these walls. Fortification. Please God, help us. I felt a warm touch. Just that. And the room suddenly felt...
    Like home again. I sagged with relief.
    Daddy would come soon. For now, that was enough.

Chapter Four
    While Tack Turner’s worship of Francine was earthy and sensual, Daniel’s esteem for me held almost a holy hush. His restraint, so binding of his emotions, carried over into our courtship enticements.
    Nana liked Daniel. She trusted him and that made me happy. He earned her trust, actually, because Nana had this sixth-sense about innocence and integrity. Like Gladys, she seemed to know .
    “It’s up t’the girl to say no,” Nana steadfastly contended. Not that she ever provided me a birds-and-bees education. Shoot no . Her only concession to such talk was disdain for any female “hot tail” who “rolled over on her back.”
    Such was my view of sex. So, I was extra careful to shut down those appalling urges. And if Nana’s opinion of females was less than charitable, her contempt for the male of the species was merciless.
    “A man don’t think with the head on his shoulders but the one in his pants,” she disparaged when on the subject of Grandpa Dexter.
    And each time, I’d think it’s true: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
    ~~~~~
    Walter occasionally loaned Daniel his car for short evening outings. Our secluded dates laid plowed-ground for temptation. We’d drive to the Super Grill on Highway 290, and park in the copse of trees behind the concession bar, a cement-block structure shaped like a giant milk shake.
    For a long, long time, Daniel and I both practiced restraint when alone.
    Then, in my seventeenth year, something happened that shook my faith in myself.
    One night, parked in our favorite dark spot behind the Super Grill, Daniel kissed me more passionately than usual. My skin tingled as he moved his hand up my back , then around to cup my chin as his lips softly plundered mine. When the kiss deepened and our tongues tangled, my senses went crazy. Desire exploded in me like a raging bonfire
    As usual, Daniel kept tight rein on his urges. I was shocked as mine loped ahead, embarrassing, condemning me as I squirmed beneath him, arching myself at him like a she dog in heat, my breath coming in short spurts, punctuated by keening animal noises as my hands clutched at his hips, pulling him in to me with the force of a bulldozer. That burning inside me took over.
    I was no longer me.
    “Sunny,” he rasped, slowly disentangling, wriggling loose, gazing into my face with tortured eyes, his breathing as labored as mine. “ Sunny.” And I realized I still moaned and strained toward him.
    “We can’t, honey.” His hands, gentle yet firm, stayed me. How he garnered the strength to stop, I’ll never know because even now, years later, I’m convinced he wanted me as desperately as I wanted him.
    I scrambled upright, scooted to my corner, and covered my face to hide my frustration and shame. Nana hadn’t told me a girl could get carried away. I frightened myself in that moment. How could I act so disgracefully?
    Is this how Mama feels? Ohgodohgod.
    His arms came around me and his lips kissed my temples, my cheeks, then the palm of my hand that he turned ever so gently to his own cheek. “I love you so, Sunny.” His words were a hoarse whisper.
    “I know. I’m so sorry, Daniel.” I shrugged elaborately, still buzzing from shock and