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"But once I realized that sex was my favorite sport, then the place became a prison." He put in frankly. "My joy was found at collage, where I had the freedom of the 1960's." Oh." I said simply when images of free love flashed through my head.Jake laughed at me."I came back here and found it too quiet. Peace and love is all good till you get too much peace. I took off for Atlanta and then traveled on to all the big cities. Sadly for me the land kept pulling me back."He looked at me and smiled. "This is home." He shrugged."When my father died I decided to make it more like a home I could enjoy. I built my own house, Leaving the big house to sit. I tore down most of the rotting old slave cabins which had become dangerous rottin eye sores. I decided to build my own cabins." Hardly cabins." I interjected.Jake chuckled. "To each his own, aye?" He winked at me, finally looking me in the eye and not the nipple. "Then I had to fill the cabins. I begin to offer the cabins to employees who I. She was exhausted as she slipped beneath the crisp cotton sheets in the room that had once been Peter’s and finally theirs. But try as she might, she simply could not quiet her restless mind. It was always the same, the questions, the regrets, the what-if’s of life. But most of all, it was the chest tightening sense of a life-time of loss. Her mother…her childhood…Peter…their baby. It seemed sometimes too much to bear. In the end, she had given up and tip-toed down the stairs to the kitchen for a cup of the hot cocoa that she knew Shelly still kept in the cabinet above the stove. But she stopped cold as she entered the kitchen. He was there already. Sitting in Peter’s chair with his large, dark hands wrapped about a mug steaming with what she could smell was her cocoa. She half turned to run back up the steps when his deep Southern voice filled the dark night. ‘You couldn’t sleep either?’ he asked. Jill stopped and faced the unknown, this man with whom she shared so much but who was.
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