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I pointed toward the door, “Car!”“I have to get my purse,” she exclaimed.“No you don’t. Just get in my car.”“You ... no ... you ... don’t ... I mean.”I started toward her with my hands up like I was going to hit her. She ran out to my car. I wouldn’t have hit her, honest. I’ve never raised a finger to her, not ever!This is where I have to back up and fill in some of the gaps in the story; like how we met, how we got married, and some of the more startling, confusing, and yes, heart-wrenching events in our lives.I was twenty-seven when I first met Serena. I was in my first year of residency at a pretty good hospital in Philadelphia. Serena was an undergraduate student at the University of Pennsylvania. She was twenty-one when I met her, and to be completely honest at the time I had no idea how deep into her studies she was. I found out later Pennsylvania was her third college, having already bailed on Maryland and Penn State. I guess that more or less reflected her commitment to her. She removed his dirty, worn shirt, unbuttoning each button slowly and carefully. She pulled the shirt open revealing his broad chest, sparsely covered with coarse curly blonde hair. She rubbed her hands over his chest and softly moaned. She thought she had been quiet enough, but Clint had heard her quiet need. He turned to her and took her in his arms, pulling her close. She lifted her face to his as he looked down into the softest green eyes he had ever seen. He held her close to him, feeling the softness of the woman pressed to him, the warmth of her body and the sweet scent of her perfume. It had been a long, long time since he had felt, seen, and smelled anything so pleasant. Anna too, was feeling something special, something she hadn't felt with the regular clients she served and serviced in the saloon. There was something about this drifter, this stranger, that made her knees weak. He was a rugged, handsome man to be sure - 6'2" tall with dirty blonde hair to his shirt collar,.
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