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hard, unyielding. His mouth was large and pink, the full lower lip curling with undeniable sensuality, and his thick auburn hair was brushed severely to one side. Clem O'Malley brought to mind a healthy, brutish animal acharge with strong red blood and tremendous energy.
    The mystery to me was that so many women seemed to find my stepfather appealing. More than one woman here in the swamps had gone utterly daft over him. They seemed to revel in the rough, abusive treatment he gave them. He had quite a reputation as a tomcat and spent jm inordinate amount of time in the pursuit of tail. He and Ma hadn't slept together for years, didn't even share a bedroom, and she had long since grown immune to his brazen infidelities. I wondered how Ma could ever have married such a man. What had driven her to ... to accept such a brute after the graceful, gracious life I knew she had had earlier?
    Clem O'Malley sauntered slowly toward me in that heavy-limbed, stealthy walk that reminded me of a panther. He wore tall black boots and tight gray breeches and a very thin white cotton shirt that bagged loosely at the waistband. The full sleeves billowed as he moved. The boots, I noticed, had been freshly polished, and the shirt was clean. Though the other men who came to visit had to pay for her services, the mulatto Jessie gave it to Clem free of charge. She even polished his boots and washed his shirts, despite the fact that he treated her like dirt. Puzzled me to pieces, it did. Jessie must be daft, too.
    "Ain't you gonna speak?" he inquired.
    ' 'I ain't got nothing to say.''

    *'What-ja doin', loUygagging about? Ain't you got chores to do?"
    ' 'I done 'em all earlier.''
    "You feed the boys breakfast 'fore they went to market?"
    I nodded sullenly. My stepfather uncurled his arms and brought one hand up to his chin, the strong, blunt fingers resting on his jaw, the ball of his thumb slowly stroking his lower lip. Clem O'Malley was forty-five years old, yet he exuded a potent sensuality as strong as musk. Though fresh and clean, his thin white shirt was beginning to grow damp with perspiration. He smelled of leather and sweat and male flesh. The sunlight burnished his thick auburn hair, giving it deep coppery highlights. The intense, open desire smoldering in those blue-black eyes made me extremely apprehensive. I knew what he wanted—the same diing Jake and Randy and all the others wanted—and I tightened my shoulders, cool and defiant.
    "You ain't scared-a me, are you, little Dana?"
    "I ain't scared-a you, Clem."
    "You oughtn't-a be. I wouldn't hurt you for th' world. You're growin' up mighty fast. Yeah, you're gettin' real ripe. I been noticin' that lately. Can't help noticin' it, the way you almost pop outta that dress-a yours. Real ripe. Real fetchin'."
    I made no reply, gazing at him with level eyes. Truth is, I was scared of him, but I wasn't about to let him sense that, I vowed I'd claw his eyes out and kick him in the balls if he dared lay a hand on me.
    "Jake and Randy tell me you've been real uppity lately," he said, thumb still stroking his lower lip.
    "Indeed?"
    "Figure it's 'cause you're nervous and high-strung, like your Ma. Figure it's 'cause you've got all that tension inside that ain't been released. You're mighty big to still be holdin' on to your cherry.''
    "That ain't none-a your business, Clem."
    "I put a roof over your head, put food in your belly."
    "And I work like a slave for it," I retorted. "Go stick it in Jessie or some other whore, Clem, If you know what's good for you, you'll leave me be."
    His eyes grew hard, gleaming with anger, and his mouth tightened into an ugly line. Clem intimidated both his boys, intimidated Ma, intimidated everyone around with his brute strength

    and harsh manner, but I wasn't going to let him intimidate me. He had only stared at me before—he had never spoken to me quite so boldly or made his objective clear—and I knew I couldn't give an inch. Though I was trembhng inside, I