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I've been told there was no hope. No chance. I might of thought of myself as crazy but I used to think there was hope. Before that summer I had the chance for hope. The summer when I meet Jess Harper.
He would often come once a week to help my Pa with the harder work. Jess would come help with the work and leave. I began to sneak out whenever I could to watch them. That wasn't very often.
Being the oldest girl of six meant that I was busy a lot. Ma was always sick; or so she said. I almost hate to call her a liar, but many of her days were spent in bed, reading novels, and bossing me around.
So at the time of this story, I was fed up, ready to leave that god-forsaken place. Harper was my ticket out.
He was a worldly man who knew women and guns like a preacher knows his bible; and dadgum if he wasn't handsome to boot.
I did of thinking before I threw all caution to the wind. I hid Pa's lunch from him one of the days that he worked with Jess.
I ended up going out there on the old buckskin mare. She had a funny gait that didn't make for a very comfy ride. So by the time I made it out there I looked a mess. Somehow I managed to get dirt streaks on my hands and arms. My hair had left the perfect braid, and I could feel the sweat in all the wrong places.
It beat all though how Jess looked at me though. I finally felt like a woman for a small moment; even in the old, faded, levis, I was wearing.
That was the last time I ever saw Harper. My Pa never let him back after that accidental meeting. That's when I realized I was stuck on that farm until I died. Hope was gone for me and its place came the welcome demise of death.