The Customer

By Ed Carlson


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This story is purely fictitious. The names used herein are for character

identification and should not be construed as real people, alive or dead.

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Chapter 1


I was pulling a Wednesday night shift for Dave. Dave’s bar is out in the wide-open spaces of nowhere. I come in from my ranch to do the Wednesday night thing to give Dave a couple of days off. Peggy opens up for him on Thursday and sticks around until he gets back from town with supplies for the week. Dave’s Place, as the sign says, is one of those combination store, gas station, and bar-and-grill establishments that dot the western landscape. There once was a town here, but it’s gone now, and Dave’s Place is all that’s left.


Robert and Karen, who had been my only customers, had only been gone a few minutes when a car pulled up, closely followed by another. When they came in, it was easy to tell that the four of them, two girls and two guys, had been traveling together. They chose the table nearest the potbelly stove and busied themselves with removing their coats.


“Was it cold enough for you?” I quizzed as I walked up to their table.


“It’s colder than hell out there,” one of the guys snarled.


“The weatherman says we’re in for a good storm,” one of the girls added.


The two girls looked a lot alike. They had blond hair, blue eyes, and were rather tall. The first guy was muscular looking and had short cropped hair. The second guy reminded me of some kind of biker without all the tattoos.


“What can I get you?” I asked.


“Four beers,” the second guy said relatively abruptly.


“Draft or bottles?” I quizzed.


Draft, draft, draft, and a bottle was the response. I left them to continue removing their coats and settling in while I got their order. By the time I got back with their requests, the girl who had requested the bottle was missing from the table. By the way they were acting, two of them, the shortest blond girl with a ponytail and the guy with the short dark hair, seemed to be a couple. The second guy paid for the beers, and I went back to my spot behind the bar. After a few minutes, the blond with the ponytail got up and headed for the bathroom. She had a nice figure, which was accented by her hip-hugger jeans.


Soon the bathroom door opened, and both of the girls emerged. I was struck again by how similar they looked, and I assumed that they must be sisters. It was then that I noticed the steel hooks that protruded from each of the sleeves of the first girl’s sweatshirt.


“Are you sure that you and Ken will be OK? Marty and I really want to get going. We didn’t want to stop in the first place,” the second girl was saying.


“You guys go on,” the first girl replied as they walked by. “Ken can help me with anything I need until we get home. Just leave my bag in case something happens.”


“What’s going to happen?” the second girl responded. “All you have is just a six-hour drive home.”


“You know me. I always like to at least think that I’m prepared,” the first girl, the tallest, replied.


They continued walking back to the table. The girl with the hooks sat down, and the second girl remained standing. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but soon the guy with the short dark hair stood up and took a quick swallow of her beer. The two that were on their feet put on their coats and headed out the door. Soon the door opened again, and the blond set a small wheeled suitcase inside. She waved goodbye and closed the door behind her.


The biker looking guy and the girl with the two hooks continued to drink their beer, at least the guy did. He finished his and drank what was left of the other draft beers before he ordered another. I asked the girl if she wanted one, but she replied that she was still working on the first one. Soon he ordered another beer and two shots. As I delivered the order, I noticed that their conversation was becoming elevated and they were arguing. He seemed even more obnoxious than he was when they first came in, and I didn’t like him and his attitude then. As he continued to drink, his less than personable personality seemed to get worse. I busied myself behind the bar, occasionally sneaking a peek at the girl using her prosthetic hooks to hold her bottle and sip on her beer.


It was forty-five minutes until closing time when they got up to leave. The girl with the two hooks had only consumed the one beer, and mister personality had downed everything else. I really felt sorry for her having to put up with him.


“Come back again,” I said as they started for the door. “Drive carefully. The storm should be here any time.”


“Thanks,” the girl said and smiled at me.


The guy only grunted as he picked up her bag. I could hear the argument continue as they went through the airlock. I had just cleared their table and was wondering what life would be like having hooks for hands when the door burst open again. I turned quickly to see the girl come flying back into the bar and go falling spread eagle across the floor. She was followed by her suitcase.


“I really don’t give a shit what you do,” the jerk yelled, then slammed the door.


I rushed over to her and helped her up. A small trickle of blood was coming from the corner of her mouth. As I grasped her upper arm, it felt solid and I knew it was part of her prosthesis.


“Are you OK?” I asked as I dabbed the blood off with my handkerchief.


“No. I hate that bastard,” she replied as she started to cry. “That son of a bitch hit me. I hate him.”


I walked her over to the table by the fire. She was struggling with her coat, so I helped her remove it again.


“Can I get you something?” I asked.


“How about some coffee?” she sniffed.


I left her sitting at the table and went for the coffee. She smiled a wonderfully warm little smile at me when I returned. Her tears were beginning to dry.


“Can you handle that mug OK?” I asked.


“Yes. I can handle the mug,” she said. “Thanks.”


“Anything else?” I quizzed.


“No. I’ll be fine. I just need some time to think,” she replied.


I put another piece of wood in the fire and returned to my place behind the bar. I was washing glasses when she came over to the bar and slid up on the stool opposite me. She put the empty coffee mug on the bar, then positioned her two hooks on the bar near my face as I bent over the sink.


“I don’t suppose a bus comes by this time of night?” she asked.


“No, I’m sorry. You’re out of luck. The bus only comes through here once a week. You missed it. It was by at noon today.”


“Oh,” she said as tears began to well up in her eyes again. “How do I get out of here?”


“Unless you know someone with a four-wheel drive, you won’t very soon,” I replied. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and there’s a big storm bearing down on us. The weatherman says we should have about three feet of snow by morning. There’s the possibility you might get a ride with the snowplow driver.”


“It was just starting to snow when we were outside,” she said. “Can I use the phone to call my sister’s cell phone? Maybe they can turn around and come back to get me.”


“Well, we’ve got a couple of little problems with that too,” I replied. “The phone has been out all day and cell phones don’t work way out here. There’s hardly anyone to talk on them, so they haven’t put up any towers.”


“So you’re telling me that I’m about to be snowed in here for a week?” she asked.


I nodded yes.


“Oh swell,” she said almost in tears again. “What am I going to do?”


“Well, you can stay here, and maybe Dave will make it back from town in the morning, or I guess you could come out to my ranch. The house is a little small, but it’s cozy and warm,” I said.


She didn’t say anything for quite a while. She stared at herself in the mirror in the back of the bar through the booze bottles. I finished up washing the glasses and began drying them.


“I guess I’ll take you up on your offer, if you know what you’re getting yourself into,” she said. “You haven’t even asked me my name.”


“What do you mean ‘get yourself into’? And what is your name?” I asked.


“My name is Mary, and even with these hooks, I still need help,” she said. “And when I take my arms off, I really am helpless. I can’t do anything by myself then.”


“Mary, I can live with it if you can,” I replied.


“I don’t have a choice,” she responded.


“I guess you don’t. My name is Sam,” I said.


She offered me a hook to shake, and I returned the gesture. The thing that struck me instantly when I felt her hook was how cold the steel was.


“So Sam, what’s your story?” she asked. “How did you end up way out here?”


“Well, I was born just north of here. I studied hard, went to college, then started a dot com company. I sold the company and made a nice profit. I came back and bought my place and the herd. Now I go to town once a month and help Dave out down here on Wednesday. I love my lifestyle now,” I said.


“Won’t your wife mind that you’re bringing me home?” Mary quizzed.


“I don’t have a wife. I almost did once, but she eloped with my best friend a week before the wedding. So I live alone,” I replied. “What’s your story?”


“I grew up on a farm,” she began. “I was fifteen when I had my little accident. Once I got out of the hospital, they fitted me with hooks and I worked really hard at learning to use them. I went to college, then got a teaching job. I didn’t like baby-sitting the brats, so I went into counseling and teaching rehab. They call me when they get an arm amputee, so I only work once in a while. It’s not like people lose arms every day. I’ve lived with my sister, and now her boyfriend, since I left home. That was them in the bar with us.”


“I thought you two were sisters. You look a lot alike,” I interrupted.


“Except she still has arms, but I’m taller,” Mary quipped and continued: “I met Ken about six months ago. We had been up at the farm to see Dad and were headed back home when we stopped here.”


“Was Ken always such a jerk?” I asked.


“No. He was nice when I first met him,” she said thoughtfully. “I took him home to meet my Dad, and it didn’t go well at all. Dad couldn’t stand him, and it’s been going downhill ever since. After he hit me and shoved me down just now, that ended it for sure. I won’t take that from anyone.”


“And you shouldn’t have to,” I agreed. “He didn’t have the right to hit you, especially since you’re . . .”


“Crippled?” she inserted.


“I wasn’t going to put it like that,” I replied.


“What else do you call a girl with no arms?” she said. “Let’s face it. I’m crippled, and I’m not going to get any better than I am right now.”


“It’s almost closing time,” I said. “All I need to do is check the cash register, put the money away, and we can get out of here while we still can. I don’t think I’ll be having any more customers.”


She sat at the bar as I ran out the cash register tape and began to count the money. It had been slow, and it didn’t take any time at all to balance. I put the cash drawer in the safe in the back room. I put on my coat, then I went out the back door and started my pickup to get it warm. There was about an inch of snow on it. I went back in and finished locking up and turning the lights off. I helped Mary with her coat, and I carried her suitcase as we went out the back door. I put her suitcase in the jump seat of the pickup and helped her get in the passenger’s seat. I locked the back door to the bar and got in the driver’s seat.


“I’m glad I warmed this thing up. Are you all set?” I asked.


“I’m having trouble with the seatbelt,” Mary replied.


She was holding the belt about halfway across her body with one of her hooks. I reached across and finished pulling it out of the retractor and snapped it shut. I put on my own seatbelt before I started the pickup moving. It was quickly apparent it was time for four-wheel drive, and I engaged it. We pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.


There was about three inches of snow on the road as I started up my four-mile long driveway. I keep the road in good shape, but the snow was really coming down. We didn’t have any problem making it up to the house, but there was about four inches of snow there. When I pushed the button that operated the garage door opener, nothing happened.


“I’ll be right back,” I said and got out of the pickup. I left the pickup lights on and unlocked the side door, then opened the garage door manually. I also turned on a small battery light before I got back in the pickup and pulled the truck into the basement garage. I got out and shut the garage door before I freed Mary from the bonds of the seatbelt. I helped her out of the pickup and retrieved her suitcase.


“Is the power out?” Mary quizzed.


“I’m not on the power grid,” I replied. “I have my own power system which doesn’t like cold weather. The generator is over there in that room. It and the solar cells charge the batteries. When I have a large demand for electricity like the garage door opener, the generator is supposed to start, but I guess it didn’t. I’ll look at it tomorrow.”


“You have quite a bit of room down here,” she commented.


“It’s mostly storage in that room over there,” I said as I pointed at one of the other doors. “Of course, we’re in my workshop and garage.”


“It looks pretty well equipped,” she offered.


“Do you know about working in the shop?” I asked.


“I grew up on a farm, remember,” Mary said. “I think I can still weld, but it’s been a while, and of course it needs to be set up just right for me to use my hooks.”


We walked over to the stairs, and I led the way to the main floor, a small but cozy place.


“Hey, this is nice,” she said as she looked around.


“Thanks, this is the kitchen and living room. It’s small, but it’s all I need,” I said as I lit a kerosene lamp.


“It’s nice and warm in here. How do you heat the place?” Mary asked.


“I have two propane heaters that do a good job of heating this floor and another for the basement. The stove looks like a wood stove, but it’s propane too,” I said as I flipped the switch on the wall, and the stove jumped to life. “I cook on propane and have propane lights around too. The water is heated with propane, and the water pressure comes from the buried tank up on the hill. I have the water trucked in for that.”


“What about TV?” she asked, looking around the room.


“I have a small black and white set which gets the one channel and runs off the battery. All I ever watch is news and weather,” I replied as I lit the second kerosene lamp. “The rest of the stuff isn’t worth bothering with. I have a computer with a satellite Internet connection upstairs in the office in the loft. It runs off the battery and drains a lot of energy and works best if the generator is running.”


“What do you do for entertainment?” she asked as I helped her take off her coat.


“I read a lot. I like to play cards when I have company,” I replied. “Have a seat. I’ll put your suitcase in the bedroom.”


“Are you a cribbage player?” she asked as I started for the bedroom.


“Oh ya,” I replied, “and Mexican train too.”


“Good, we’ll have something entertaining to do then,” she said. “I love cribbage.”


When I returned from the bedroom, she was seated in the wing-back chair. I sat down in my oversized recliner. She had her long slender legs crossed in a very provocative fashion. I noticed that her boots were equipped with zippers and a ring on the zipper slide. I assumed that the ring was so that she could operate the zipper with her hooks.


“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not used to being a host. Can I get you anything?”


“No, I’m fine for now,” she said. “I just can’t get over how nice and cozy your place is.”


“The trick is that the place is heavily insulated and energy efficient,” I replied. “I really like it here; though it does get a little lonely at times. I do manage to keep busy, especially with the herd.”


“How many head are you running?” she asked.


“About five hundred pairs,” I said. “If we had more rain, I could handle another two hundred pair.”


“It is pretty dry, isn’t it,” she commented.


“We’ve been running only about two thirds of normal rainfall,” I replied, “but this snow is pretty wet, and it should soak in well.”


“Are we going to have to feed in the morning?” Mary asked.


“My system is pretty mechanized. But I still have to load the bail buster,” I said.


“I do get to help, don’t I?” she said. “I’m good at pulling the strings out of the bails. I just get the twine wrapped around one of my hooks and then back up. It works like a charm.”


“I guess I’ll have to put you to work,” I replied.


“I’m a halfway decent cook too,” she offered. “That is, unless the pot or skillet is too heavy. Then I don’t have enough leverage to lift it. I pretty much know my limits with these prosthetic arms.”


“You really do face things head on, don’t you,” I replied.


“It’s my personality. Sometimes it causes problems, but I say what I think,” she said. “Tact is not one of my long suits.”


“At least people know where they stand with you,” I said. “So how am I doing?”


“You don’t even need to ask. You’re a sweetie,” Mary said with a smile. “I haven’t found out anything about you I don’t like.”


“Do you want to tell me more about your ‘little accident’ as you put it?” I asked.


“It was threshing season, and I was tending the pile that the trucks would dump on the wheat auger,” she began. “I was to make sure that the auger was always fed and to pull any sticks out so they wouldn’t go up into the bin. It was still early, so it was still chilly. I had a long sleeved shirt on which wasn’t buttoned. The last thing I remember is reaching down for a stick as it slid down the little funnel of wheat. When I woke up in the hospital, both my arms were gone, and I had one hell of a headache. I apparently banged my head on part of the auger frame. That’s why I have the scar just under my hairline. No one saw what happened, but we guessed that one of my loose sleeves got caught in the auger screw, and I reached in with my other arm to try and free it, and the other sleeve got caught too.”


“How long ago was that?” I quizzed.


“Sixteen years, three months, and five days ago,” she replied.


“You’ve got that down. Let me show you the rest of the place,” I said, getting up out of the chair. Mary got up too and began following me. We walked into the bedroom. “This is the bedroom,” I announced. “The bathroom’s right here.” We walked into the small bathroom. She looked around the room approvingly. “Sorry that I don’t have a tub,” I said.


“The shower is big enough for the both of us,” she said nonchalantly.


“What?” I responded.


“You’re going to have to wash me,” she said. “I can’t take a shower by myself. You’re going to have to get in with me.”


“We’ll see,” I said tentatively.


“We’ll see,” she echoed.


We walked back into the bedroom. I put her suitcase on the cedar chest.


“You’ll sleep in here,” I said. “It’s a queen size bed so you’ll have plenty of room.”


“You make it sound like you’re not going to be sleeping here with me,” she remarked.


“That’s right. I’ll be sleeping out in my recliner,” I said. “I’ve had a lot of experience sleeping out there.”


“Bullshit,” she blurted out.


“What?” I quizzed.


“Bullshit, I said. You’re not sleeping out there,” she replied. “If anyone is sleeping out there, it’s going to be me. But if you really must know, I think we should share the bed.”


“But . . . ,” I stammered.


“What’s the matter; don’t you want to sleep with me because I don’t have arms?” she fired back.


“No. That’s not it,” I said. “I just met you.”


“You just rescued me,” Mary replied. “Going to bed with you is what I decided to do down at the bar. I really like you. I think we should sleep together, unless you don’t like me.”


“Oh, I like you all right,” I said. “I just didn’t want to rush you into something.”


“Listen. Sixteen years ago I lost my arms and came within inches of losing my life. I decided then that I needed to live every day to the fullest because I might not get another one,” she said. “Besides, once you see me with these hooks off, you might not want to sleep with me, and then you will make me sleep in the recliner.”


“Seeing you without your arms won’t bother me,” I said.


“Good. Do you want to help me take my arms off now?” she asked.


“If you want them off,” I replied. “What do I do?”


“Start by pulling my sweatshirt up over my head,” she instructed.


I did as she asked, being careful and trying not to snag her cables on the sweatshirt. I carefully laid the sweatshirt on the chair and turned around to an incredible sight. With the sweatshirt gone, I could see her entire prosthetic arm assembly encircling a very nice upper torso. I could see all the cables and her mechanical elbows, as well as the hooks.


“You look like you’ve never seen a girl wearing prosthetic arms before,” she said.


“Mary, you’re right; I haven’t,” I stammered. “They look complicated. How do they work?”


“OK, it’s demonstration time,” she said as she began shrugging her shoulders much in the same way she had back at the bar. “These cables come from the actuator arm on my hook terminals and are connected to the harness around my back. These types of arms are called body powered and, unlike the fancy myoelectric type, need no electricity to make them operate.”


She shrugged her left shoulder and her right hook opened. When she relaxed, it closed.


“The hooks open when I tighten the cable that’s connected to the opposite shoulder and close by means of the rubber band around the hooks when I relax. I can change how much closing pressure I have by adding more rubber bands.” She moved her entire shoulder in kind of a rotating motion, and her elbow flexed upward. She did it again, and the elbow moved upward further.


“These are called ratchet elbows. They work by these cables that come out of my elbow and up over my shoulder,” she said. “I can position them by simply leaning my forearm against something and pushing it up into position, as well as ratcheting them with my shoulders like I just did.”


She wiggled again, and both arms fell to her side. She hunched both shoulders. “OK, both arms are locked,” she said. “Now you can take them off. Undo the strap below my boobs and then the one above my boobs.”


When I had done as I was instructed, she turned around and faced away from me, then said, “Now grasp both upper arms and lift them slightly.”


Again, I did as I was instructed and was suddenly left holding both of her prosthetic arms and wondering what to do next.


“You look silly just standing there,” she said with huge grin on her face. “Why don’t you just put them over in the corner where we won’t be tripping over them?” she said.


I carefully put the arms down in the corner, being sure to push the loose straps under them. When I straightened back up and turned around, we were standing face to face.


“Would you like to look at my stumps while I don’t have a top on?” she asked.


“Well . . . OK,” I stammered. “I’ve never seen an amputated limb before.”


She held her very short stumps out for me to examine. They were only about three inches long, and both had scars where the skin had been sewn together.


“I have what the medical guys call a high bilateral limb deficiency,” she said. “I’m also called a DAE in some circles. That stands for Double Above Elbow. Either way you put it, both of my arms are whacked off well above the elbows.”


“Are they sensitive?” I quizzed.


“Sometimes they are around the scars,” she said. “Then it feels like it used to when I’d hit my funny bone when I had a funny bone—if you know what I mean.”


“Do you want me to help you finish undressing, or do you want to get ready for bed?” I asked.


“Now that I’m comfortable, let’s stay up and talk a little more,” she said. “Why don’t you get me good and comfortable? Take off the rest of my clothes and get out my long T-shirt that’s in my suitcase.”


I had her sit on the bed while I took off her boots and socks. I undid her jeans and slid them off of her, leaving her in only a bra and panties. I retrieved the long T-shirt out of her suitcase and laid it on the bed, hoping that she wouldn’t notice the growing excitement in my pants. I undid her bra and removed her panties. I would have had to be blind not to notice her exquisite, just the right size breasts, or the way her pubic hair was neatly trimmed just below her flat stomach. I slipped her T-shirt over her head. My excitement did not go unnoticed.


“OK, now you have to undress for me,” she said. “Did I detect a bulge in your jeans?”


I answered only with a smile and a red face as I began to undress. By the time I got down to my T-shirt and shorts, there was no hiding it.


“We can work on that later,” she said as she started for the bathroom. “Give me a minute, then you get to come and help me.”


While she was out of the room, I slipped off my shorts and T-shirt and put on some sweat pants. I heard the sound of water entering the toilet, and when it finished, she called me.


“Now you get to wipe me,” she said.


I gingerly did as I was asked. This was a first for me. We went back into the living room. As I followed her, I noticed that her short arm stumps didn’t even stick out of the sleeves of her T-shirt.


“You wouldn’t happen to have a telephone?” she asked.


“Not one that we can use now that we’re undressed,” I replied. “I have a satellite phone. It doesn’t work here in the house because of the metal roof. We need to go outside to use it. If you need to send an e-mail, we can do that though.”


“That’ll be fine,” Mary said. “I want to call my sister in the morning to tell her where I am and what happened to mister jerk.”


I sat down in my oversized recliner, and she cuddled in beside me. She snuggled up next to me as I put my arm around her. Her breasts against my side felt wonderfully firm. I could feel the excitement in my sweats growing again, and I was sure that by the way she had her leg over mine that she could too.


“Thank you for taking me in,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d just left me down there.”


“I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “I like the solitude, but sometimes it’s a bit much, and I get really lonely.”


“So how long do you think we’re going to be snowed in?” Mary quizzed.


“At least a week, maybe more,” I replied.


“I hope it’s more. I like it here with you,” she said as she snuggled closer. “I hope you like having me here.”


“I sure do,” I answered. “It doesn’t get much better than this.”


“Oh yes it does,” she said. “Just you wait.”


Chapter 2


The sun was streaming in the window when I awoke. The newly fallen snow made the room extremely bright, now that the skies had cleared. I reached over to feel for Mary. There was no one there. I lay there for a moment thinking that our meeting and our evening together had been a dream. It must have been a dream I thought. Arms or no arms, sex just does not get that good.


I sat up and looked over at the cedar chest to see her suitcase still sitting there. I glanced quickly to the corner where I had left her prosthetic arms. They were still there. I threw back the covers and stood up, only to find myself standing on her long T-shirt nightgown that we discarded along with my sweats shortly after going to bed. I slipped the sweats back on and quietly opened the bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. I peeked out around the corner, and my mouth fell open.


There on my living room rug, in front of the fireplace stove which was burning brightly, Mary was doing a series of exotic exercises. They were slow and deliberate. She was putting her long legs in some very unusual positions that I knew that I couldn’t get into. Her eyes were closed, and because she was concentrating, she did not notice me standing there. I marveled at her beautiful body as she went through her exercises. The exercises had to be a key to her superb conditioning.


I couldn’t wait any longer and retreated to the bathroom. I noticed that the toilet had been used and a small piece of toilet tissue was floating in the bowl. I used the toilet and flushed it. I was just exiting the bathroom when I met her face to face. She walked up to me for the kiss that I knew she wanted.


“Good morning Sam,” she whispered hoarsely when the kiss was finished.


“Good morning Mary,” I whispered back as I continued to hold her. “Did you sleep well?”


“I slept better than I have for years,” Mary replied. “I always sleep well after great sex. What about you?”


“I really slept well too,” I agreed. “When I woke up and you weren’t there, I thought for a moment that I had been dreaming. If it had been only a dream, it would have been the best one I ever had. When I saw your stuff, then I knew the dream was real.”


“I forgot to tell you that I do stretching exercises first thing in the morning,” she said. “It helps me stay limber.”


“I watched you for a while,” I admitted. “You certainly are limber. I know I couldn’t get into some of those positions.”


“Now I’m embarrassed,” she said, looking away shyly. “You weren’t supposed to see me doing that.”


“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” I told her. “Your movements were beautiful. That was one of the more sensual shows I’ve ever seen. Besides, it’s not every morning that I wake up to a beautiful nude lady rolling around on my living room rug in front of the fire.”


“I get so embarrassed about these,” she said as she wiggled away from me, then held her arm stumps toward me. “I hate to have people see my stumps.”


“I guess I don’t mind,” I replied. “I’ve just accepted them as you and the way you are. I’ve never seen you any other way.”


“Thank you. That’s refreshing to hear,” she said. “It’s a strange thing. Most guys are turned off by my stumps, but some guys go off-the-wall nuts about them. They are totally absorbed by them and my hooks and don’t see anything else about me.”


“I guess I see the rest of you and like what I see,” I stated. “I view you as having had a very unfortunate accident and that you’re doing the best you can to live with it. I like that in a person. I don’t see you as sitting around saying ‘why me?’ ”


“Oh, but I did sit around for a long time doing just that,” Mary responded. “I spent five years going to heavy-duty counseling to get me going again.”


“Well, I’m certainly glad that your counselor has done what he has done. You certainly seem well adjusted to your circumstances,” I said. “Not to change the subject, but would you like to get dressed?”


“She. My shrink was a woman,” Mary replied. “I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I don’t want to get dressed quite yet. I’d like to have a shower if you’re up to it.”


“I thought I did all right last night,” I said as we started for the bathroom.


“You did more than all right. You were outstanding,” she quipped. “I only hope I met your expectations.”


“I didn’t have any expectations when I offered to bring you out here,” I said. “But I’m certainly glad that I did. Having you here has been much more than enjoyable.”


“You almost put that in the past tense like you want to get rid of me,” she observed.


“Quite the contrary,” I replied. “Let me put it this way. Last night was more than enjoyable.”


“That’s still past tense,” Mary pressed.


“And you can stay as long as you like,” I continued. “Especially if our time together is as good as it has been since you’ve been here.”


“Do you really want me to stay, or are you just saying that?” she quizzed as I turned on the water in the shower and slipped off my sweats. “Or do you say that to all the girls you bring home from the bar?”


“I don’t bring girls home from the bar,” I said as we both got in my large shower. “In fact, you are the first woman to ever sleep over here. Do you make all of your boyfriends take showers with you?”


“To be honest with you, I haven’t been with many other men in my life,” she said. “I pretty much crawled into my little cocoon after the accident. I’ve only had three boyfriends and only slept with one of them.”


“Was the guy you were with in the bar one of them?” I quizzed as I began to lather her.


“No, but had things turned out better, then I probably would have,” she said. “But Ken was on his way out of my life when we stopped in bar. He was going to drop me by my sister’s, and I was going to tell him goodbye there and move on.”


“So where were you going to move on too?” I asked as I washed her breasts.


“That depends,” she replied and rinsed off her breasts while I soaped up.


“On what?” I pressed and rinsed off.


“On whether or not you like this?” she said as she dropped to her knees and began kissing me in places that I’ve never been kissed before.


It was all I could do to contain myself as she continued to work me over. I couldn’t believe that this was happening to me. A beautiful, practically armless woman was working me over in my own shower after a wild night in bed. She seemed to enjoy doing what she was doing as much as I did.


I helped her back to her feet, and all I could say was “Wow!”


“Did you like that?” she asked.


“I’m speechless after that,” I replied. “I don’t think ‘like’ is a strong enough word. ‘Fantastic’ is more like it.”


“Good,” she said. “Now it’s your turn to do me.”


The moment I lightly touched her spot, she flinched, and even though we were in warm running water, she had goose bumps. It was difficult for her to stand still as I continued to massage the spot. Soon she began to moan and tried to swallow but her throat seemed to lock. She gasped a deep breath and screamed as she began jerking violently, just as she had done in bed last night. As the jerking subsided, I slowed and lightened the massage. I pulled her close and kissed her.


“You can finish washing me now,” she said with a huge smile on her face. “We don’t want to drain the cistern.”


“Don’t worry, it’s a big one,” I said as I continued to wash her. “Besides, I had it filled last week. When I’m here by myself, it should last for six months.”


I finished washing her and then myself. I dried her off before I dried myself. Her hair was still damp, so I wrapped it in another towel in turban fashion. We walked back out into the bedroom. Her suitcase was open, and she used her toes to pull out some panties and a bra—not that she needed a bra, because her breasts were very firm.


I found clean underwear in my drawer and put it on. Mary had struggled and had managed to get her panties up around her knees when I got to her. She had been rolling around on the bed getting them pulled up. I had her stand, and I slipped them up around her waist. It was interesting getting her bra on her. She simply held out her two short arm stumps, and I slipped the bra straps over them. This was the first time that I’d seen a bra that fastened in front.


She had me get out a modified T-shirt. She said that having the tight fitting sleeves with the ends sewn shut worked great for stump socks. Once we had the stump sock T-shirt in place, she had me lay out her prosthetic arms on the bed. She used her toes to straighten out one of the straps that I had twisted. Next, she lay down on her back on the bed and wiggled her way into the harness and arm arrangement. She stood up and had me fasten the front straps both above and below her breasts.


With that over, we embraced in a kiss. It felt strange to feel the hard tubes of her arms wrapped around my midsection.


“So what are you planning on wearing for today?” I quizzed.


“What’s on the agenda?” she asked.


“Let’s have some breakfast, feed the herd, fix the generator, and I need to wash some clothes,” I replied.


“OK. I have an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt I can put on,” she said. “If you have some room in the washer and dryer, I need to do some laundry too.”


“That’s no problem. All I have is a couple of small loads. We should be able to combine our stuff and take care of everything,” I said as I started putting on my work clothes.


Mary dug through her suitcase and found her clothes. She laid them on the bed, and I helped her get dressed. When we were finished, we headed for the kitchen.


“Do you need to have the generator running to feed?” she quizzed.


“I have a small standby generator out in the barn, but it’s a lot easier if the main generator is on line,” I replied.


“I’m guessing that we should get the big generator going first,” she observed. “The washer needs it too, doesn’t it?”


“Let me guess, you grew up on a farm that was off the grid,” I said.


“You guessed it,” she said. “We didn’t have a solar panel like you have, but we had a big generator and a small standby.”


“Good, you can help me fix it then,” I said. “What do you want for breakfast?”


“I’m your guest” was her reply. “What do you usually have?”


“I like baked eggs,” I told her. “I like them with cheese and bacon bits. Sometimes I add sour cream. It’ll take about 20 minutes. If not, we always have cereal and milk.”


“The baked eggs sound good,” she replied. “Besides, you’d probably need to send me out to milk the cow, and I’m not very popular with cows with these hooks, especially when it’s cold.”


“I bet not. Baked eggs it is,” I said. “Why don’t you get those two boat-shaped dishes out of the lower cabinet right in front of you, and I’ll get the oven heating and the stuff out of the refrigerator.”


I started the oven and retrieved the ingredients from the refrigerator. Mary was able to use her hooks to pick up the dishes and place them on the countertop.


“After we get these in the oven, we can use the time for you to call your sister. I bet she’s worried by now,” I offered.


“That sounds good,” Mary replied. “She might be worried, but she’s probably thinking that Ken and I are shacked up somewhere. She’s really going to be surprised when she finds out that I’m out here with you and loving every minute of it.”


“Are you really going to tell her that?” I quizzed as I cracked the eggs into the dishes.


“Yes. I am loving every minute of it,” she replied. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”


“No, but I believe in instant attraction,” I told her while I added the rest of the ingredients. “That’s the way I felt about you. My feelings weren’t wrong either. I’m more attracted to you now than I was when you first came into Dave’s Place.”


“Well, maybe that’s what I’m feeling too,” Mary stated. “Last night in bed was fantastic, but I’m also looking forward to just spending some quality time with you and getting to know you better.”


“Last night was certainly exciting for me, and I sure don’t get to take many showers like that,” I said with a big smile as I put the eggs in the oven and set the timer. “It’s wonderful having you out here. I would really like to know you better, and it looks like I’m going to have my chance.”


I shoveled off a place on the deck that was in the sun and got out the satellite phone. It was cold, but the deck was out of the wind. I helped her put her coat on, and we went outside. I dialed the number for her and put the phone in her hook so that she could hold it up to her ear properly. I had asked her to keep the call relatively short because of the high cost for satellite time. She began talking to her sister, and I went back inside to allow her some privacy.


About five minutes later, Mary came back in, and I took the phone from her hook. I made sure that she had hung up the call, and I turned the phone off.


“That went well,” Mary offered.


“What do you mean?” I quizzed.


“My sister has become my hands ever since I lost mine,” she said. “She’s become very protective of me. Had you been out there, she would have given you the third degree. I told her what had happened down at the bar and what a jerk Ken was. I also told her how you rescued me and what a perfect gentleman you’ve been. She asked me when I was coming back, and I told her that I didn’t know for sure and that I wasn’t sure if I was coming back at all.”


“What was her response to Ken’s actions?” I asked.


“She had expected something like that might happen,” Mary responded. “My guess is that she’s probably on the phone right now giving Ken a piece of her mind. She never really did like him that well anyway.”


“How did she take the ‘I’m not sure if I’m coming back part’?” I pressed.


“She was concerned that I might be building myself up for a big let down,” she replied. “I told her that I was a big girl and knew what I was getting myself into.”


About that time, the timer went off and the baked eggs were done. I took the dishes out of the oven and put my masterpieces on plates. I set the plates on placemats on the breakfast bar. She slipped onto one of the stools, ready to eat. I watched her pick up and position her fork in her right hook.


“Hey, these are really good,” Mary said after she had taken a couple of bites. “You cooked, so I get to wash the dishes.”


“I like to wash them up right away after eating so that they don’t pile up,” I told her.


“Another thing we have in common,” she replied. “I hate a sink full of dirty dishes too. I always wash them up right away.”


We finished up our meal, and she began filling the sink with hot water. She had not run any cold in to cool it down.


“Aren’t you going to scald yourself with that hot water?” I asked.


“No. Not unless I put my shoulders in the water,” she replied. “I have absolutely no feeling in these hooks, and I can handle really hot things. I never use a hot pad when I’m cooking.”


She washed and rinsed the dishes, and I dried. When we finished, we went to the basement to look at the generator. I checked the fluid levels and had wrench in my hand while she looked over the control panel. I was about ready to take the thing apart when she asked if I was clear. I told her I was, and suddenly the generator cranked over and then started.


“What the hell did you do to it?” I said. “It sounds great.”


“I turned this switch from ‘Off’ to ‘Automatic Run,’ and it started,” she replied.


“I must have left it off when I checked the fluids yesterday just before I went down to the bar,” I admitted sheepishly.


“It was more romantic last night with just the kerosene lamps anyway,” she teased. “See, you knew that you’d be kidnapping me and bringing me home with you. You just wanted to set the mood.”


“Sure, I had it all planned. I put tacks on the road so that you’d have to stop, and I hypnotized your boyfriend to get him to fight with you,” I teased back. “I also bribed the weatherman to cause the storm and the bus company to set the schedule to keep you here.”


She gave me a rather passionate kiss, then said, “You’re so damn cute.”


I didn’t object to the kiss and her teasing. We went back upstairs to the main floor.


“So what’s next?” Mary asked.


“Now that I have the generator running, we should probably feed the herd,” I said.


“What do you mean, ‘I’?” she challenged.


“Well, I had to show you where the generator was,” I replied. “OK, you.”


“How do we get to the herd?” she asked.


“I usually take the quad runner, but the snow’s too deep. We should probably take the snowmobile,” I said.


“I don’t have a snowmobile suit with me,” she said. “I do have one at home. I only get to ride doubled up. I don’t have enough strength with my hooks to drive.”


“My suit will be a little big and baggy, but it will work,” I said. “I’ll wear my insulated coveralls.”


“What are we going to do after we feed?” she asked.


“While we’re up on top, I want to check the water tank. We should check on the sheep, even though Ruff takes good care of them. They’ll need a couple of small bales. When we get done with that, we should check the chemicals in the hot tub. That is, if you want to use it.”


“Oh yes. I like hot tubs. But I didn’t bring a suit,” she said.


“You don’t need one,” I replied casually. “I usually don’t wear one either.”


“That works for me. You’ve seen me nude,” she answered. “By the way, who’s Ruff?”


“He’s the sheep dog,” I told her. “He lives with the sheep and keeps them from any harm. He’s like a mom to them.”


I dug out my snowmobile suit and helped her get it on. She had me roll up the sleeves to expose her hooks. I got into my coveralls, and we went outside where the snowmobile was under the deck. It started right away; she got on behind me and put her prosthetic arms around me.


“These aren’t the terminals that I usually use for this. The ones that I like to use have a sharp hook on the end and larger loop between the two halves of the split hook,” she said. “You’ll have to put one hook inside the other because I can’t see them.”


I did as she asked and could see what she meant about having a better design for holding on. I took it easy so as to not lose her. When we got to the feeding area, I fired up the tractor and put a bale in the buster. Just as she said, she was able to hold a knife in one hook to cut the twine and use the other hook to pull the twine free from the bale. I helped her get up into the tractor cab with me. I had the heater running so that it was reasonably comfortable.


Once the herd was fed and we were sure that their water supply had not frozen, we got onto the snowmobile and checked on the sheep. It was love at first sight for Ruff and Mary. They bonded instantly. Our next stop was the cistern to check on the water supply for the house. It was fine, and we went to the top of the ridge and stopped.


“Wow, what a view,” Mary remarked. “Sam, how far does your spread go?”


“See that little clump of trees over there?” I said, and she nodded. “It goes to that rock outcrop over there.”


“That’s quite a spread. I can see why you can support such a large herd,” she offered.


“It’ll be larger at the end of next month,” I said.


“I’m guessing that’s when calving season is,” she said. “I didn’t see any bulls. Do you use AI?”


“I am now,” I said. “I had a couple of bad bulls and all the bad calves that go with it. I’ll use AI until I get a couple of good bulls. You seem to know all about this business.”


“Like I said, I grew up on a farm,” she replied. “But after I got these hooks, all I could really do at calving season was the record keeping. I used to give shots and help warm the calves.”


“I’ll put you to work if you’re still here,” I said.


“I was planning on it,” she said quietly, looking down at the ground.


We got onto the snowmobile and headed back to the house. When we got back, I parked the snowmobile under the deck. We went into the basement where we stripped off our heavy outdoor clothes.


“So what’s next?” Mary asked.


“Let’s get the laundry going now, then we can do the hot tub,” I said. “Why don’t you get your stuff that needs washing, and I’ll start sorting. The door to the laundry chute is under the linen closet in the bathroom,” I told her.


She gave me a quick kiss and turned to leave. I noticed once again how nicely her butt filled those tight fitting jeans. Soon clothes started coming down the laundry chute. I sorted the clothes when one more T-shirt came down. It was the same kind that I had helped her with earlier with the ends of the sleeves sewn closed. I added it to the whites and started the washer. Then a pair of blue jeans came down the chute.


“Anything I can help with?” Mary asked from behind me.


“I think I’ve got it,” I said, without turning around and still dealing with clothes for the next load.


I turned around when she kissed me on the back of the neck. Instantly, I knew why I had recognized the T-shirt. It was the one that I had helped her with, and she was now standing there nude without her prosthetic arms.


“Surprise,” she said.


“Yes, this is a surprise. A very pleasant surprise,” I replied again, noticing her perfectly proportioned body, especially her short arm stumps, which could not reach the nipples on her firm cantaloupe-sized breasts.


“I really didn’t bring that many clothes,” she explained. “So I thought I’d get everything washed.”


“That’s no problem. Aren’t you getting cold?” I asked as I touched her very erect nipples, then the scars on her arm stumps.


“Yes,” she purred. “I thought you could warm me up.”


“And just how do you think I should do that?” I replied.


“Use your imagination,” she answered.


“How about I take you upstairs and set you down by the fire?” I teased.


“That’s not exactly what I had in mind. How about a little more imagination,” Mary said. “I’ve heard that body heat is the best way of warming someone.”


“Well, we haven’t made the bed yet,” I said. “We could crawl in there. Then there’s always the hot tub.”


“Cool,” she replied. “I’ve never had sex in a hot tub, but I’ve read that it’s great.”


“I haven’t either,” I told her. “It sounds pretty erotic. I’m up for it.”


“I noticed,” she replied, looking at the bulge that had developed in my jeans. “You’ll have to lead the way because I don’t know where it is.”


“It’s right around the corner on the deck outside the bedroom,” I said. “I’ll have to shovel a path to it though.”


She led the way back upstairs. On the way up, I couldn’t help myself and grabbed her nice butt as we neared the top step. She stopped at the top of the stairs, and we locked up in a very, very passionate kiss.


“Is that the way you treat all of your guests?” she asked when the kiss finally broke off.


“I’ve never had a guest who I’ve ever wanted to do that to before,” I replied.


“I bet you say that to all the armless girls that you lure into your den,” she teased.


“Let me see,” I teased back. “I believe that you’re number fourteen, or is it fifteen. I’ll have to check the notches in the headboard.”


“I didn’t see any notches,” she puzzled. “Where are they?”


“Right in the front edge of the headboard of my bed,” I teased more.


She turned and headed for the bedroom at a quick pace. She was standing there looking at the headboard when I came in with the snow shovel.


“I don’t see any notches,” she told me.


“Well, that’s because there haven’t been any before,” I replied, taking out my pocket knife. “I guess you get to be number one.”


“You know if you carve a notch in there, that will be the last one you get to carve,” she said. “I’m here for good then. You’re going to be stuck with me.”


I folded up my knife and put it back in my pocket, then said: “Mary, I don’t quite know if I’m ready to put that notch in there then. You need to understand that I was badly hurt when Jean married Joe. I’m just not sure that I’m ready for that kind of commitment yet. Because of what happened to you yesterday, are you ready to make that kind of commitment?”


“Sam, I think that I’m ready for a commitment, but I sure can see where you’re coming from,” Mary said. “The only thing that I know is I want someone to love me and, because of my limitations, take care of me. I’ll plan on leaving just as soon as we can get out of here.”


“I didn’t say anything about you leaving,” I told her emphatically. “I really like you, a lot, and I really enjoy your company. Besides that, I like the sex too. I’d like you to stay a while, and when you see the notch on the headboard, you’ll know I’m ready for the commitment. Deal?”


“Deal,” she said. “I kinda rush head-first into things sometimes, and without arms, I can’t catch myself when I fall.”


“I’ll try to catch you if you start to fall,” I said.


“Get ready then, because I think I’m falling,” she replied and walked toward the door to the deck. “Now where’s this hot tub you’ve been telling me about?”


I opened the door and began shoveling the snow around the corner toward the hot tub gazebo. I had about two scoops left when I noticed Mary shivering behind me. I finished shoveling and opened the cover. I tested the water with my hand for temperature, then helped her into the hot tub.


“How does that feel?” I quizzed.


“It feels wonderful,” she replied. “I am lonesome though.”


“Just let me go back into the house to strip down and grab a couple of towels for us,” I told her. “I’ll be back in a minute.


I went back into the bedroom, shoveling a little more snow as I went. I stripped down and grabbed the towels. As I got into the hot tub with her, I noticed that Mary had been crying.


“What’s wrong?” I asked.


“Nothing really,” she replied. “I’m just having a case of the ‘why me’s?’.”


“I don’t understand, I guess,” I said.


“After my accident, I became frightfully withdrawn,” she began. “With a lot of counseling and shrink time, I managed to get out of my shell. I had to regain a lot of confidence in myself that I had lost. I managed to overcome that and face the world armed, or shall I say, disarmed, with these two little stumps. My confidence is based on me being accepted for who I am. When I’m rejected, I pull back into my little ‘why me’ world.”


“So you feel that I’ve rejected you?” I questioned.


“I guess I do,” she said. “I understand where you’re coming from. I’ve lost someone too, and my heart aches because of it, but it’s over with him for me, and I’m ready to move on. You’re not ready to make a commitment, so I take that as you not being ready to move on, and consequently, I feel rejected. Does that make any sense to you at all?”


“I think I understand. You think that I’ve rejected you because I wouldn’t carve the notch in the headboard, and you think I rejected you because you lost your arms,” I told her.


“Kinda. I guess maybe that’s what I’m thinking,” she replied. “Right now, my mind is full of mixed emotions. The guy I was going to dump, dumped me, and I met you. For me it was love at first sight, but you don’t believe in love at first sight. I am so damn attracted to you that I can hardly stand it. So what do I do?”


“How about relax a little,” I replied. “I terribly attracted to you too. It’s all I can do but to come over there and jump on you right where you sit. I know you want me, and I want you.”


She moved over to me and straddled my hips. We were looking at each other face to face. I pulled her down and kissed her. The tears streaking down her cheeks tasted salty. I felt her wiggling around and figured out what she was trying to do. I guided my erection to where it was meant naturally to go. She closed her eyes tightly and kept them closed. Then with her eyes still closed, she suddenly slid off of me and sat down on the seat beside me.


“What’s wrong?” I quizzed. “I thought you were enjoying it.”


“Contacts” is all she said.


“What?” I asked.


“My contacts” she replied. “Sometimes if I cry, my contacts come loose.”


“Can you blink them back?”


“I’m trying,” she said as she laid her head back and blinked.


“Any luck?” I asked when she quit blinking.


“No,” she said. “I’m going to have to wear my glasses for a while. My eyes are really scratchy. Have you ever taken out contacts?”


“I used to wear them all the time,” I replied. “I had laser surgery, and now I’m fine.”


“I thought I would be too,” she said. “The surgery only made my eyes worse. A lot worse. I used to be fairly nearsighted but could see well enough to get around. Now I’m so nearsighted that I’m almost blind without my contacts or glasses. Anything beyond three inches starts to blur and beyond a foot is gone completely. The only thing I can tell then is light and dark. I can distinguish a really big and bright color, but it’s normally just a blurry fog.”


I took her contacts out, and because they were disposable, she had me toss them. I held her close to me for a while without speaking.


“You know, this is just one more thing that I’ll always need help with,” she said softly. “I have female things coming up soon too.”


“I assumed that,” I replied as I gently kissed her on her forehead. “It’ll be all right, and I don’t mind.”


“Thanks for being so darn understanding,” she said as she began to cry again. “I would normally be crawling up the walls wanting my glasses and hooks back, but I feel so safe when you hold me. Just hold me tight for a while.”


I was more than happy to comply with her request and felt her relax. Her body felt great as she nestled close to me. It was probably ten minutes before she stirred.


“Are you ready to get out?” I quizzed. “We’re both pretty pruned.”


“OK,” she said. “You’ll have to lead me. Remember, I can’t see a thing.”


I got out, then helped her out of the hot tub. I held onto one of her arm stumps and led her back into the house. She stood in the bathroom as I toweled her off first before I did myself.


“Where are your glasses?” I asked. “You did bring them, didn’t you?”


“I certainly did bring them. They’re the first thing I packed,” she replied. “They’re in the side compartment on the inside of my suitcase.”


I hung up the towel and went into the bedroom and over to her suitcase to look for her glasses. I found her glasses and a box of contact lenses. I hadn’t noticed that she had tried to follow me until I heard her. She had not made the turn that I did but went straight past the end of the bed. I watched as she tried to search for something with her arm stumps and felt around her with her foot before taking another step. I kept watching silently as she made her way along, ending up in the corner of the room. She was able to feel both sides of the walls with her stumps and realized she had gone as far as she could go.


“Sam?” Mary asked softly.


“Are you looking for something?” I replied.


“Where are you?” she asked again as she turned around and stared blindly in my direction.


“You missed a turn. I’m over here,” I said. “I found your glasses.”


She started in my direction but ran into the bed and stopped and asked, “How do I get to you?”


“A little to your left,” I replied. “About two feet.”


She sidestepped until she was clear of the end of the bed, then started walking cautiously toward me. She was startled when I reached out and touched an arm stump that was feeling for me.


“So how did I do?” she asked.


“Remind me to get you a seeing eye dog. I don’t think you could use a cane very effectively,” I quipped.


“We could duct tape the cane onto one of my arm stumps,” she quipped back as she looked blindly past me.


“These have got to be the strangest looking glasses that I’ve ever seen,” I observed.


“They’re called myodiscs,” she replied. “My prescription is so strong that they only grind the center of the lens. They would weigh a ton if they ground a full lens for minus thirty.”


“My old glasses were only a minus five,” I observed. “Your eyes are really red.”


“I probably wore the old contacts lenses too long. Crying doesn’t help either,” she replied as I slipped the unusually thick glasses on her. “Ah, vision,” she said.


I looked closely at her face. Her once big blue eyes now looked like small marbles hidden deeply in her face. “That’s certainly a different look.”


“I hate the way they make me look,” she said. “You can’t even see my eyes.”


“I think they make you look sophisticated,” I told her. “You look like an executive.”


“Ya, right,” she replied. “Standing here nude without my arms and only my glasses on. At least I can see again, a little anyway.”


“See a little?” I quizzed.


“I don’t have any peripheral vision with these glasses,” she explained. “They give me tunnel vision, and instead of moving my eyes, I have to move my head constantly. I only have about a ten-degree view.”


We went into the bathroom, and I took her glasses off and put some drops into her eyes, then replaced her glasses. “Are you going to be able to put contacts back in today?”


“I don’t think so,” she replied. “The drops felt good but my eyes still feel scratchy. I’ll have you put new ones in tomorrow morning. That’s of course if you let me stay here and don’t kick me out in the cold.”


I helped her put on underwear, and I got dressed. We put on her prosthetic arms, and I put a robe on her. I went down to the basement to put the clothes in the dryer and start another load in the washer. When I came back upstairs, I found her in the kitchen making more coffee. She was gorgeous standing there in just the white terry cloth robe.


“What do you want for lunch?” she quizzed. “I’m cooking.”


“I usually just have a couple of sandwiches for lunch,” I said. “I thought we might have steak for supper.”


“Steak sounds good,” she said. “What do you like on your sandwiches?”


“I’m not fussy. You choose,” I told her. “While you make lunch, I’ll clean up around the hot tub and check the chemicals. Call me when you’re ready.”


She busied herself in the kitchen, and I went back out onto the deck off the bedroom. The snow had stopped early in the morning, and now the sun was out warming the deck area nicely. I finished shoveling the snow off of the deck and cleaned the ring from around the hot tub. I checked the chemicals with the little kit and had to add a little chlorine. I was just putting the cover back on when Mary called me.


Mary had a nice lunch waiting at the breakfast bar. I watched as she carefully picked up her sandwich without crushing the bread badly with her hook.


“Pretty good control, isn’t it?” she said when she noticed me watching her use her hook.


“Must take a lot of practice. I’m surprised you didn’t smash it flat,” I replied.


“It does take practice. I have to hold tension on the hook to keep it apart just enough and still ratchet my elbow,” she said. “What are we going to do this afternoon?”


“Well, I need to fold clothes. I thought I’d check my e-mail and look at cattle prices,” I replied. “I thought we might run the snowmobile down to the mailbox at the road. We can see how deep the snow is down there and if they have the road plowed yet.”


“When you’re done online, I’d like to send my sister an e-mail to update her so she doesn’t worry about me anymore than I know she will anyway,” Mary said.


“Why don’t I get you set up on one of the computers when we finish here? Then you can do your e-mail while I fold laundry,” I offered.


“I should really help you with the laundry,” she complained. “I don’t feel like I’m doing my part.”


“You’re my guest. Besides, you just made lunch,” I told her. “You relax and let me do the laundry.”


When we had finished lunch, I took her up into the loft where I had my computers set up. She told me that she usually typed with her hooks and edited with her foot on a trackball. I found an old trackball in the cupboard and set it up for her on my laptop that I use when I travel. She seemed to be comfortable with the setup and had great computer skills. I showed her how to log on to my satellite Internet account. She had her own Internet e-mail account and didn’t need to use my POP3 account. I left her busily typing away and went back to the basement.


I folded the first load of clothes and put the second load in the dryer. I shoveled off some of the snow from around the garage door. It was almost two feet deep. I was thinking how much the snow would help the drought as I carried the folded clothes back to the bedroom. I put some of her clothes in her suitcase and mine in the closet. I made the bed and thought about the pleasure that had taken place there the night before.


Mary was still typing when I went back up to loft. “How are you doing?” I said.


“Great,” she said. “This connection is really fast.”


“That happens when you don’t use phone lines,” I told her as I booted up my large computer.


“I’ll be off line in a minute,” she said apologetically. “I’m not a real fast typist. These aren’t the terminal devices that I usually use for typing.”


“Don’t worry. We can both be on at the same time. My network will take care of it,” I said, then I asked, “Terminal devices?”


“Hooks,” she replied. “That’s what they call my hooks. Terminals. I guess it’s because that’s the end of the cables.”


I logged on and checked cattle prices. As I suspected, they were down again. I checked my e-mail and found one from Dave saying that he had made it home just as the big snow hit. He also said that they had started plowing the main road.


“Dave, down at the bar, said they’ve started plowing the main road but won’t be finished until tomorrow,” I told her.


“Good, I get to spend at least one more night with you,” she said. “My sister says that she’ll be here to pick me up as soon as the roads are passable.”


“Stay as long as you like,” I replied. “No rush. I enjoy having you around.”


“Do you really mean that?” she quizzed.


“Of course I do,” I told her.


“But I’m blind without these stupid thick glasses, and I don’t have any hands, just these damn hooks,” she countered. “I’m helpless when I don’t have both, and even at that, I’m limited as to what I can do.”


“So?” I replied.


“So I’m trying to tell you my limitations,” she continued. “And I need someone to take care of me.”


“Haven’t I been taking good enough care of you?” I asked.


“You’ve been more than wonderful. Much more than I ever could have hoped for,” she said. “It’s just that do you want to keep it up indefinitely?”


“I guess that’s a bridge we still need to cross,” I said cautiously.


“I understand,” she relented. “You’ve been hurt before and don’t want to go rushing into something painful again.”


“Exactly,” I agreed. “I think we both need to give it some time. Probably the best way for us to check out our compatibility is to have you stay here for a while.”


“But what happens if I get more emotionally attached, and you don’t?” she started, then exclaimed: “Hey! What the heck is going on here? Sam, look at this!”


I scooted my chair over beside hers where I could see her computer screen. It was black with red flames at the bottom with bright yellow letters floating around randomly.


“What did you do?” I asked.


“Nothing,” she said defensively. “I just typed another e-mail to sis telling her not to come until I told her to. I pressed ‘send’ and this just started. Hey, look at the letters; they’re starting to line up.”


The letters began settling down and spelling out ‘IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU NO ONE WILL!’


“Have you told me about all your boyfriends?” I quizzed. “It sounds like one of them is very possessive.”


“The only boyfriend I’ve dated in the last five years is Ken,” she said. “You’ve met him. He dumped me. I wouldn’t think he’d be jealous of me anymore.”


“Was he the jealous type when you were together?” I quizzed.


“I really never did anything to make him jealous,” she replied. “Besides, who’d want a girl with no arms and hooks for a girlfriend. I think that I’m a real turnoff to most guys.”


“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I think you’re pretty hot,” I said. “What kind of work did he do?”


“I don’t know for sure. It was something for the government that was always classified. Counter intelligence, whatever that is. I think he worked with computers a lot,” she said.


“Well, it’s my guess that he was a paid hacker for the government and that he’s still really upset with the way things worked out,” I told her. “My guess is that he either knew your passwords or hacked into your account. Did you ever use his computer?”


“Yes. Quite a few times,” she replied.


“Then you probably left some cookies behind, and he was able to break into your e-mail like he just did,” I told her. “Was he a controller?”


“Now that I think about it, I think he was,” she reflected. “At first everything was for me, and toward the end, we did everything he wanted or he’d have fit. I guess he really was controlling me, and I didn’t realize it. What do you think he’ll do?”


“Probably nothing,” I said. “Most guys like that are mostly bluff.”


“I hope so,” she said as a chill went up her back. “It gives me the creeps thinking that he may come up here and try something.”


As quickly as it came, her screen returned to normal. Mary was pretty rattled and logged off the computer and shut it down. She went downstairs while I finished my online business. When I finished and went downstairs, she was sitting at breakfast bar on a stool drinking a cup of coffee. Her legs were crossed and exposed at the halves of the bathrobe. Her naturally seductive long legs made me want to take her to bed again.


“I think the last load of clothes are about done,” I said as I poured myself a cup and sat on the barstool beside her. “We can get you dressed. Both pairs of your jeans are in that load. I took the liberty of hanging up your tops in the bedroom walk-in closet. I moved your suitcase in there too, so we’ll have more room in the bedroom.”


“You almost sound like you’d like to get me dressed rather than run around like this,” she teased.


“If you’re dressed, maybe I won’t want to be taking you down and jumping on top of you,” I countered. “You look quite provocative that way you know.”


I had just finished my coffee when I heard the buzzer that signaled that the clothes were dry. I went into the basement to retrieve them, and when I returned to the kitchen, Mary was not there. I continued on into the bedroom and found her lying on the bed with the robe and her undergarments removed.


“Do you want me to take my arms off?” she asked.


“They’re your arms,” I said. “It’s up to you.”


“I think that we should take them off,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”


“Hurt me?” I quizzed.


“Yes. When I have an orgasm, my shoulders jerk and my arms are liable to go in any direction. I don’t want to nail you with a hook.”


She stood up, and I took her arms off. I pulled the covers back, and she slid under them. I undressed and slid in beside her. I put my arm around her and pulled her close to me. In the process, my cheek bumped her glasses.


“You better take them off too,” she said reluctantly. “Just put them somewhere safe. I can’t afford to have them broken.”


I took her thick myodisk glasses from her and placed them in the drawer of the nightstand on my side of the bed.


“I put them in the drawer of the nightstand,” I told her. “That’s where I used to keep mine.”


She snuggled back in my arms for a few minutes and then began kissing me. I used my hands to explore her body. Before too long, we were making love and having sex again. When it was done, we rested and snuggled again. I loved the feel of her body against mine. As we lay there, I thought about carving that notch in the headboard.


We both dozed and woke up. We decided to take the snowmobile down to the main road to check on the plowing and see if the mail had gotten through. I slipped on some underwear, then helped her get dressed and put on her arms after I had helped her with her glasses. I finished dressing, and we went down to the basement where we had left the snowmobile suit and my insulated coveralls.


“We could take the tractor and plow the snow out down to the main road,” I said.


“You could,” she replied. “You don’t have to do it on my account though. Then I won’t have an excuse for staying if the main road is plowed.”


“We won’t plow then,” I told her. “I’ll hold you hostage a little while longer.”


“Good,” she quipped back. “I’ll just have to be your love slave again.”


She gave me a kiss as I helped her put on the snowmobile suit. I put on my insulated coveralls, and we went out to the snowmobile. I got on and had her get on behind me. I guided her hooks so that they locked together, then started down the driveway toward the highway. There was just a small indentation from where we had driven up the night before. I only went half as fast as I normally would have. I kept checking to be sure that her hooks remained locked around me. I stopped when we got to the highway. The snowplow had made one pass. We got off the snowmobile and walked over to the mailbox.


“Either no one wants me to have a credit card or Margaret didn’t make it,” I said as I looked into the empty mailbox.


“I bet she didn’t make it today,” Mary said. “There’s always junk mail.”


“Well it doesn’t look like they’ve got the road open yet,” I said. “It looks like you’re stuck here for another night.”


“Well, if I have to,” she teased. “I suppose you want to have sex again too.”


“Well, if I have to,” I teased back.


We got back on the snowmobile and started back up to the house. We stopped above the pond that was down over the hill at the curve. It was not quite frozen over, and there was still a large hole in the center. I knew even the edge ice probably wouldn’t hold the weight of the snowmobile.


“You weren’t thinking of going swimming, were you?” Mary asked.


“No, not at all. We’d freeze to death now,” I said. “It’s a good swimming hole in the summer though.”


“I’d like to try it when it warms up,” she said.


“That can be arranged,” I said as I restarted the snowmobile and continued on to the house.


I helped her out of the snowmobile suit, and I got out of my insulated coveralls in the basement. We went upstairs, and I made us some hot chocolate. We played Mexican train for a while until the game almost ended in a tie. Next, we played cribbage, and she trounced me. I marveled at the way she handled both the dominos and the playing cards with her hooks.


I broiled us some steaks for supper, and Mary did the rest of the fixings. She asked me to cut her steak, but that was all that she needed help with. After our candlelight supper, we both cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. We turned on the TV and watched the news and Wheel of Fortune, then decided there was nothing else worth watching. We read for a while and soon her eyes began to tire. She had me remove her glasses, and she snuggled next to me with her eyes closed while I read some poetry to her. It was a very memorable time for me and, hopefully, Mary as well.


We decided to check e-mails before going to bed. I helped her get her glasses back on, and we went up to the loft. I had no messages worth reading, but Mary had a message from her sister saying that Ken had been by the house raising all kinds of hell. She had asked him to leave, and when he didn’t, she threatened to call the police. He left but was still fuming. The message concluded with a warning to be careful.


“What do you make of that Sam?” Mary asked after I had read the message.


“It sounds like a certain control freak didn’t get his way and is throwing a temper tantrum like a little kid,” I replied. “I wouldn’t be concerned; he’s almost three hundred miles away. He wouldn’t drive that far just to get even, even if he could get through on the roads.”


We shut down the computers and went back downstairs. I helped Mary get ready for bed and removed her arms and again put them in the corner. I put the drops in her eyes as she requested. She declined the long T-shirt she had started with the night before, opting instead for sleeping nude. I helped her into bed, then proceeded to ready myself. I too was nude when I slid into bed next to her.


“You need to put my glasses in the drawer,” she said.


I removed her thick myodisk glasses and put them in the drawer of my nightstand.


“I really do wish that I could see without those glasses or my contacts,” she remarked.


“We should look into further surgery,” I suggested.


“They told me it’s possible, but there’s no way in hell that I can afford it,” she said.


“If it’s just money, that shouldn’t be a problem,” I told her.


“I can’t let you do that,” she replied.


“We’ll talk about it later,” I said as she snuggled close to me.


I always sleep well after sex, especially great unbridled sex. I was sound asleep when Mary nudged me awake. It took me minute to even figure out what was going on.


“I heard a noise,” she whispered. “I think there’s someone in the house.”


Groggily I got up and went into the living room. I was met by a blinding light followed by a fist to the face.


I didn’t know how long I had been out. I heard someone screaming in the foggy distance. I heard the scream again. It was still far away, and it sounded like Mary. I shook my throbbing head, trying to clear the fog and struggled to my feet. I went back into the bedroom and saw the empty bed in the bright moonlight streaming through the window. By the condition of the room, I must have missed quite a fight when I was out cold.


The door to the deck was open, and I raced out into to the cold night. In the bright moonlight, I could see the tracks heading off the deck and down toward the driveway. I heard Mary scream again, and I estimated the scream to be down the driveway around the first bend.


I raced back inside and down to the basement. I hurriedly put on my insulated coveralls and slipped on a pair of boots, all without the benefit of underwear or socks. I quickly got the snowmobile running and started down the driveway in the direction of the last scream. The wind was cold on my face, and my headlight made a strange bright area ahead of me. Just as I rounded the bend, I saw a man getting into a car that had been parked in the driveway away from the house. The car started backing up away from me as I approached. I could see Mary belted in the passenger’s seat. The car continued to pick up speed as he tried to get away from me. Then, to my horror, the car continued backing up straight instead of making the turn with the driveway. Then it was like everything was happening in slow motion. The car continued to back down the hill and then began to roll slowly. After three revolutions, the car came to rest on top of the ice covering the pond.


I bailed off the snowmobile and slid down the hill. The passenger’s door was on the uphill side. I yanked it open. Mary was slumped over, naked, and snugly fastened to the seat by her seatbelt. The driver was slumped over, and by the extreme unnatural angle of his neck, I knew that he had performed his last kidnapping. I reached across Mary to check his carotid pulse just in case I was wrong. I wasn’t.


I was able to get Mary’s seatbelt unfastened and lifted her out of the car. With my adrenaline still pumping, she was light as a feather as I started back up the hill with her in my arms. I had gone about three steps when I heard the ice crack. I turned to see the car slip under the ice. I continued on up the hill. She came around just as we were about to the snowmobile.


“What happened?” Mary asked as I carried her.


“Somebody tied to grab you,” I said.


“Sam, is that you?” she asked.


“I’ve got you, and you’re safe now,” I told her. “We’re just about to the snowmobile.”


“OK,” she said. “That’s what the bright light was. It was all that I could make out. Sam, I’m so cold.”


I put her on the seat of the snowmobile and took out the wool blanket that I carry for just such emergencies. I had her straddle the snowmobile bench and I wrapped the blanket around the front of her. I got on the seat behind her and finished tucking in the blanket. I reached around her and was able to hold onto the handlebars with her between my arms. I drove slowly back to the house and to the upper deck by the bedroom.


“How are you doing?” I asked as we stopped.


“I’m freezing to death,” Mary responded.


“How about the hot tub to warm you up?” I said.


“That sound’s wonderful,” she said. “I want you in there with me.”


I took the lid off of the hot tub and removed the blanket as I helped her into the warm water.


“How’s that?” I quizzed.


“It feels great,” she responded. “You are coming in too, aren’t you?”


“I need to call the sheriff,” I replied. “They’ll want to know that whoever grabbed you is dead.”


“Oh my gosh. It was Ken,” Mary said. “Ken tried to kidnap me.”


“His neck was broken when the car rolled,” I said. “He was dead when I pulled you out. Now the car’s in the bottom of the pond. Do you want me to get your glasses?”


“No, they’ll just fog up. Just hurry and make the call,” she said. “I don’t want you to leave me alone too long.”


I got out the satellite phone and went back out onto the bedroom deck near the hot tub while I made the call. I was quickly put through to the chief deputy. He was a customer from Dave’s Place, and I told him what had happened. He asked me if I was sure that the kidnaper was dead, and I described the kidnapper’s unusual neck angle and told him that he was now in the car at the bottom of the pond. After the call, I went back over to the hot tub where Mary was getting warm.


“How are you doing now?” I asked.


“I’m getting warmer,” she replied. “I’d do much better if you were in here with me.”


“I’ve got one more thing to do right now,” I told her and went into the bedroom and found my pocket knife.


The satellite phone rang as I was coming back out onto the deck. It was the sheriff, who was also an acquaintance. I told him exactly what I told his chief deputy. The sheriff told me that there was no rush and that he would have deputies out after sunup to pull the car out of the pond. I hung up the call.


“I’m ready to get out if you’re not coming in with me,” Mary announced.


I held onto one of her short arm stumps as I helped her out of the hot tub and led her into the bedroom and on into the bathroom. I used a warm fluffy towel to dry her off. I went into the bedroom to take off my insulated coveralls and boots. Mary followed me slowly, but this time she turned and found the bed.


“I’m ready to get back in bed,” she said.


“I’m going to put your glasses on you. There’s something you need to see,” I announced.


I slipped her glasses on and turned on the bedside lamp. I pointed at the headboard, and her face lit up when she saw the notch.


“Do you really mean it?” she squealed.


“Absolutely,” I replied. “I knew that I wanted you here with me when I saw you in that car backing down the driveway. My heart was in my throat when it backed over the edge and began to roll.”


The kiss was spontaneous and very passionate. I helped her into bed again and put her glasses back in the nightstand drawer. I got into bed beside her and turned off the light. She snuggled next to me and kissed me again. One of her short arm stumps was resting on my chest. I tasted the salt of her tears, but this time I knew they were tears of joy, just like mine.



E N D