Johnny Lancer slowly eased his mare into the campsite Charlene had chosen earlier. Cleopatra immediately recognized Charlene's horse Jezebel, who snorted a greeting. Johnny dismounted and hobbled Cleopatra next to Jezebel then debated his next move. Obviously, Charlene was not in camp, but was likely nearby, probably up on the rocks or down in the pool. Johnny remembered the place, having been here three or four times in his youth, when he'd visited the Murdoch ranch. He had swam here with his sister once, and the other times with either Logan, the Mason brothers or Murdoch boys. It had been around seven years since the last time he'd been here yet the place seemed to have changed little.

At first, he intended to call out, and let Charlene know of his presence. Yet, the old reckless devil of mischief began dancing in his emerald green eyes and he grinned, then decided against it. True, he hadn't seen her for years and could not be certain of her reaction or feelings for him, but the temptation to pull some sort of a prank on her, soon got the best of him. Thus, he removed his boots and socks so as to avoid making scraping noises upon the rocks. He then extracted the bottle of Irish whiskey he'd obtained at the Royal Saloon in Camp Stockton from the saddle bags. He placed it in one of his boots, which he slung over his back with his left hand, and quietly began climbing up the rocks. * * *

On the eastern side of Apache Springs, Jesse Logan had just finished hobbling Tecumseh, and rubbing him down. Lancer had been pushing his horse considerably harder than Jesse had anticipated thus Logan had been unable to catch up to him and cut him off before he could reach Charlene. He could have caught him at the last minute, but opted instead rather, to sneak around from the back entrance and do a little eavesdropping first. It wasn't his nature to conduct himself in such a manner yet, he might obtain a much better idea of Lancer's plans that way than if he were to ride in openly. After all, it had been years since he'd seen Johnny, and he wasn't certain just how straightforward and candid the young gunman would be with him in regards to his true intentions.

There was a tremendous cottonwood tree that grew next to the rocks impounding the pool. The tree had one branch that extended over the top of the rocks and which would not only enable easy access to the eastern crest, but likewise would afford him a reasonable degree of concealment. Quickly, yet stealthily, Jesse ascended the tree, crawling out upon the limb and onto the rock above the pool, careful to remain concealed amidst the overhanging foliage of the tree. He maneuvered himself to where he would be able to view the western rim where swimmers usually accessed the basin. His boot scraped loudly against the stone and he froze for a second. However, he quickly realized that the noise would have been muffled by the sound of the stream cascading down into the pool near where he was crouching. He soon came within view of the western rim--and he gasped involuntarily.

There before him, not quite forty feet away, and some eight feet below, lay Charlene Lancer, the moonlight illuminating her nude form with a soft glow. His pulse quickend with excitement as he stared in almost adolescent awe at the exquisite feminine form before him, feeling a strong twinge of guilt, yet completely unable to avert his gaze. Nor could he suppress the feelings of arousal and desire which the sight of her sleek, sensual form provoked within his own body.

He had seen her unclothed twice before, but she'd been only about eleven years old at the time, and he, nearing thirteen. That last time he, Johnny and Charlene had been swimming in that very waterhole, and he remembered that he had shot a raccoon, skinned it, and made a coonskin cap for Charlene which she'd worn constantly until her and Johnny had had to return to their home in east Texas. Even then however, she had borne the tell-tale signs of the rapid encroachment of puberty. Nevertheless, it was a far cry from the overwhelming vision of moon-bathed radiance which now greeted his sight and left his senses reeling. He felt as though he were gazing upon the perfect body of a goddess, whose soft, sensual curves were spawning powerful male urges within him whose existence he had up until then, only been vaguely aware of.

The truth was that Jesse had only been intimate with a woman once in his life. That had been when he was seventeen and on an excursion to Montana with Zach Baynes. They had camped with the Crow Indians one night, and Baynes had produced some whiskey for himself, Logan and the chief. The chief rapidly began getting soused and decided to be generous. Much to Jesse's consternation, he offered Logan his daughter for the night. Logan, even though nearly inebriated himself, had began to decline when Baynes warned him quickly in English that he'd better not refuse the chief's hospitality. To do so, would be an extreme insult, and could quite possibly cost them their scalps. Logan had reluctantly acquiesced, but had regretted his decision almost immediately upon seeing the chief's daughter. There were after all, some things worse than being scalped!

Although she had been about his age, she was grotesquely obese. Nevertheless, he had allowed her to lead him to her tepee where he spent the night with her. When she had disrobed, he had difficulty repressing a shudder of revulsion at the huge, ponderous breasts, and tremendous rolls of fat engulfing her midsection. Her unwashed body stank and was covered in bear-grease. Nevertheless, he had done his best, but was unsure whether he had ever completed his task. Blessedly, the strong whiskey had finally taken its toll, and he had passed out.

Through the years he'd had ample opportunity to sleep with whores in the various western towns, but had resisted the temptation. Oh he had been tempted, strongly so, especially with Conchita Mireles. But he felt that there was something terribly wrong and immoral about paying for such an intimate relation with someone. He naturally felt that such was to be shared only with a person one was in love with. Although he had been chided unmercifully over the years by many of his friends who did not share his feelings on the matter, Jesse had nevertheless steadfastly refused the temptation. Thus the breathtakingly lovely sight of a fully unclothed Charlene Lancer affected him far more intensely than he would have ever expected.

In almost every way, Jesse Logan was a man full grown. Time and again his maturity, self discipline and reliability were demonstrated to be far beyond many who were well his senior in years. In these matters though, Jesse Logan was as a school-boy of fourteen. One moment he felt a strong sense of guilt at being the source of the unasked for invasion of her privacy. Yet, he was completely unable to sever his almost feverish gaze from the sight. "Shit, get ahold a yerself, boy!" He scolded himself aloud.

He was suddenly startled out of his reverie by the sight of Johnny Lancer, creeping stealthily over the top of the western side of the rim, and softly approaching the prostrate and all too vulnerable form of Charlene.

Unlike Jesse Logan, Johnny Lancer had been with many women over the years. Whores, dance hall girls, camp-followers, and a few halfway steady girlfriends. Yet as Johnny's head crested the rock rim which circumscribed the pool of water below, he too, was taken aback at the sight that greeted his eyes.

When they had been young, he had virtually taken it for granted that Charlene would grow up into a beautiful woman, yet this was beyond anything in his wildest expectations. Sister or no, for a moment there, he had difficulty suppressing the sensual emotions in his own mind brought about by the sight of her moonlight swathed body and the gentle rise and fall of her ample breasts with each slumbering breath. He had to restrain himself from whistling aloud as he carefully clambered over the crest of the rim.

He quietly tiptoed over to her and sat down, for the moment, at a loss as to what to do. He had intended to find her splashing around in the pool and had planned to let out a piercing Comanche war cry and scare the living daylights out of her. He didn't have the heart to do so now as he gazed tenderly down upon her peacefully sleeping form. Memories began flowing back through his mind at breathtaking speed, along with powerful feelings of guilt and regret. Tears began forming in his eyes, but he subdued his emotions and wiped the tears away with his shirtsleeve. What had been done, had been done. There was no going back, he told himself as he ruthlessly suppressed the remainder of his remorse.

He then pulled out the whiskey from his boot, uncapped it, and took a long swallow. He remembered how, when they were children, Charlene, ever the sound sleeper, had usually tried to remain in bed far longer than she was supposed to. Especially, when there were chores to be done. Johnny had used to awaken her by tickling the soles of her feet with his fingertips. Charlene had always been extremely ticklish there and had never been able to remain asleep (or pretending to be) for long after he started doing that. She always broke out into almost hysterical laughter as she'd tried in vain to pull her feet back under the covers and out of her tormentor's reach. That, in turn, had always produced laughter in him. He reached out and began gently tickling the sole of her right foot. In her sleep, she giggled, pulled back her foot, and much to Johnny's delight, still giggling protested in a little girl voice, "Cuddit out, Brubba!"

"Brubba", was the nickname she had used to refer to him from the time she could talk, until she was around ten, and had dropped it because she thought it made her sound too babyish. He was about to repeat the trick when he noticed a large tarantula crawling along the rim heading toward the edge and the water below. That gave him an idea.

Several years back, he'd ridden with a halfbreed Comanche. One time they had come upon one of the large spiders and the halfbreed had casually placed his hand down in front of the spider, and allowed it to crawl all the way up his arm. He had then explained to Lancer how the spider's bite was not dangerous at all. It was somewhat painful, but no more so than a bee or wasp sting. However, if one were calm and unafraid, the spiders would never bite. Lancer then tried the trick himself and sure enough, the halfbreed had been right. From then on, Lancer had picked up tarantulas whenever he came across them, primarily to show-off in front of his companions. He had never been bitten.

He reached down and placed his left hand palm down in front of the spider. The spider slowly climbed onto his hand and he got up and crept over to Charlene. He then brought his hand down and tilted it to where the spider climbed gently down onto Charlene's stomach just below the navel, and was facing toward her head.

Charlene was in the midst of a the strangest dream. For a moment, she was a little girl, back home in bed pretending to still be asleep when her brother entered her room and began ticking her foot. She both loved and hated it when he did that. She loved the attention, and liked to be tickled yet, she hated to get up in the mornings to do the chores. Thus she always tried to kick him away, and always failed. The next thing she knew, she was eighteen again and was with Jesse Logan. Finally it seemed that she had somehow broken through that tough external stoicism he seemed to display with regards to romance. He had just kissed her passionately on the mouth, and his hand had wandered beneath her shirt and was slowly (agonizingly slowly), but surely moving gently up her stomach toward her breast.

Johnny, watching her and the tarantula carefully, saw her body tremble ever so slightly and then heard her sigh deeply in her sleep. That was curious, he thought.

Jesse's hand was now moving steadily upward and finally had reached the base of her right breast.

Lancer noticed a sudden intake in her breath as the spider had reached her breast, along with a low moaning, "oooohhhhh!"

In Charley's dream, Jesse's hand was now gently caressing her breast and she was moaning "OOOOOOOOHHHHHH, Jesseeeee!"

Johnny's jaw dropped nearly to his chest at the sound of his sister moaning and calling out Jesse's name. "What'n the hell's my sister been up to lately!?" He wondered to himself in astonishment. Seems her and Logan were a mite closer than even Aunt Cora had guessed.

On the other edge of the rim concealed amidst the oak branches and leaves, Logan could see that Johnny was doing something, but was unable to ascertain precisely what. Nor, was he able to hear Charlene moaning and softly calling his name because of the water cascading into the pool just a few yards away from him. Both his suspicion and curiosity were aroused. Surely, Johnny would be trying anything obscene or indecent upon his own sister! He began fingering his pistol.

By this time, in Charley's dream, Jesse Logan's hand was now covering her breast. Strange though, she never remembered has hands being hairy! All of a sudden, as she was moaning again and softly saying, "Jesse, Jesse!," her pesky big brother was back tickling her feet. Didn't the scoundrel have the decency to leave her and Jesse alone at a time like this? Why didn't Jesse put a stop to it and whup Johnny's butt for him?

As Johnny was tickling her feet again, she drew her legs up, violently, and said loudly in a voice that was half little girl, and half woman, "Gawdamnit Brubba, I said, CUDDIT OOUUT!" That was when she awoke abruptly and noticed that far from being Jesse's hand gently caressing her breast, it was a huge, hairy tarantula spider. She didn't scream, but let out quite a yelp, as she swept the huge, hairy spider off of her breast and over the side of the rim, and leapt to her feet. She then noticed the blond headed man sitting across from her, his arms around his knees which were drawn up to his chest, rocking back and forth on his backside and laughing uproariously.

For the moment, although her emotions were confused and running in every direction, her first reaction was anger. She'd know that laugh anywhere. She kicked him in the head, and he rolled backward onto his back, just as she pounced down on his stomach and began raining blows about his head as he tried to cover up, but was virtually unable to do so due because of the fact that he was laughing too hard.

On the other side of the rim, Jesse too, had begun laughing quietly, but intensely. Whatever had happened it was obvious that Johnny had pulled some sort of prank upon her. Jesse decided that Johnny hadn't changed much after all.

By now, Charley realized completely that it was her brother she was pounding and that she hadn't seen him in years. She abruptly ceased hitting him then threw her arms about his neck and pulled him to her hugging him fiercely. She suddenly began sobbing. Johnny hugged her in return then said, "Whoa now sis, ain't ya fergettin' sumthin'?"

Catching her breath, she said, "I'm sorry." and kissed him on the cheek. "No, Charley, Lancer said laughing, I'm talkin' about a matter a clothes. It just ain't respectable ta go a greetin' yer long lost brother, without a stitch a clothin' on!"

"Johnny, you turd, why didn't ya say somthin'!?"

"Hell Charley, I was tryin', but I couldn't even open my mouth fer fear a you fillin' it up with yer fist!" Lancer protested, still laughing.

"Yeah, I'll just bet! You were a lookin' ta get an eyeful, weren't ya? Well, I guess its a little late fer me ta go coverin' up in a hurry now, ain't it?" Charley said as she got up off of him and also began laughing. Johnny began staring at her shamelessly yet admiringly. She'd grown into the perfect figure of a woman. Charlene noticed his stare and laughed again, shook back her hair, and pirouetted gracefully around on one foot allowing her brother to fully view all of her.

What he saw was a beautiful blonde of about five feet six. She had the classic hourglass figure with firm breasts whose nipples peaked upward slightly with no sign or even hint of any sagging. They were large, but not overly so, fitting the rest of her body perfectly. Her thighs were firm and well rounded, with no excess fat, and her waist was slender and her stomach flat, a condition maintained by various types of vigorous outdoor exertions. Her legs were lean, gracefully yet femininely muscled, being neither overly long or short. They tapered smoothly down to lovely slender ankles ending in beautifully proportioned feet.

Although she possessed the body of a goddess, it was her face that was the most striking. Not beautiful in the classical sense of the word, with high cheekbones and all, yet beautiful in more of a pretty, guileless, unblemished childlike way that few would be able to properly put into words. A flawless face that was framed with yellow-gold, blonde hair (like his own), parted on the left side and which had grown to where it reached the bottom of her shoulder blades in back. Simply put, Johnny had never seen a more beautiful woman. Not any he'd seen could even come close.

"Well, do you approve of how yer little sister grew up, Brubba?" She asked grinning coquettishly.

"Hell sis, right now I wish I was a painter. If I could get ya ta pose fer me a few times my paintin's would sell like hot cakes and purty soon I'd be set fer life, liberty an' the pursuit a happiness!"

Charlene laughed then began to put on her undergarments, shirt and jeans which by that time were pretty well dried out, then sat down facing him.

Jesse, still concealed on the other side of the rim, had witnessed the whole performance. Now, the rapid pounding of his heart having finally subsided, and having gained control over his baser male urges, he decided it was his turn to pull a prank.

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