Clete Anderson followed the nearly dry stream bed that ran across the Mitchell property. Watching through binoculars, he had seen them come this way and had parked his Land Cruiser behind the hill. He knew the Mitchell property well. He had spent many an afternoon and evening trailing the wild dogs that were preying on the small livestock hereabouts and frightening the cattle. He had trailed them this way, almost to the Mitchell mansion. But that was another story altogether.

Yes, Clete knew the land and had known that they would picnic under the big elm. Last week he had found things that they had left behind. He saw them sitting there, talking, embracing, kissing, and his guts burned with jealousy. Even so, he moved closer, keeping out of sight beneath the lip of the arroyo, until he came within just eight or ten feet of them. He was so close!

Damnit! He knew he should leave. Nancy was waiting for him at that old abandoned house where they would be able to spend some time alone together. It crossed his mind that today he might be successful in getting her to let him fuck her, and the idea caused the massive shaft of his penis to jerk in his pants, yet instinctively he knew that if he stayed, he would see something very enticing indeed. Somehow, he expected something to happen here, today at this picnic spot.

CHAPTER THREE

A cool breeze was blowing somewhere off to the west above the lush, surrounding hills of the valley. An old stone mansion where no one lived any more stood in a small valley on the Pace property in Pickford's Meadows since its building some five-score years past.

It was late afternoon, and warm, and someone watching from above might have seen the trim figure of a young girl moving rapidly as she hummed to herself in an expectant voice, moving around the front of the old house, moving toward the rendezvous with her sexy boyfriend and husband-to-be.