Oh, God, I have never felt so filthy in my entire life! It's been almost two hours since James humped me in the snow, and I've spent most of that time in a bath as hot as I can stand it, and I still don't feel clean.

I can't believe he had that much nerve. I mean, broad daylight, right out in the open under the blue bowl of the sky, with his two sons no more than ten or fifteen feet away. Unbelievable.

He has to be crazy. If Jerry had come outside for some reason... I shudder. I remember the rage on his face in the van, when that other man groped me, the crunch of gristle as he slammed his fist into the man's nose. He would have gone on beating him, if Ron hadn't stopped him.

He hadn't even know me then. What would he do now, now that he loved me? Now that I was most likely carrying his child? Yes, James would have died, I think. And badly. I can't let that happen, because, as much as I hate James, scum sucker that he is, he doesn't quite deserve the death penalty. Not yet, anyway. Maybe a few broken bones. A limp. But I can't be sure Jerry would stop there, and they execute you for murder these days, at least in Texas.

I hear the outside door open, and Jerry calls, "Scribe, honey? Where you at, girl?"

"Bathroom," I call. I hear the clump of his boots across the floor, and the doorknob starts to turn. "Ahem!" The knob stops, and I hear a sigh, then an almost meek tap at the door. "Come in."

He comes in, puts the lid down on the toilet and has a seat. "I'm learning, right? This time I didn't have to go back out and try again."

"Yeah, we're getting each other trained. And I've never had to fuss at you about leaving the toilet seat up."

He snorts. "Are you kiddin' me? Justine would have skinned my head. What are you doing taking a bath in the middle of the day, babe?"

I grab the soap and washcloth and start to lather them again. One more go over to see if I can remove the lingering sensation of James's touch. "I felt a little cold."

"Yeah, Jakey said you got ducked and had snow go down your shirt." My hand freezes, holding the cloth motionless on my arm, and I look at him warily, but his expression is open, normal. Jakey must not have said who ducked me. "You gotta be more careful about that, babe, what with your condition."

"Possible condition."

"Would you settle for probable?"

"Okay."

He kneels by the tub and takes the cloth away from me, beginning to wash my shoulders. "Scribe, can you think of any other name you'd like to have?"

"Well, that's an odd question. I used to want to be called Daisy when I was very little, because I thought that Daisy Mae Yokum in the Little Abner comic strip was gorgeous. Why do you ask?"

"Well," He lifts my arm and washes my pit, tickling me into a fit of giggles. Smiling, he continues. "it's for paperwork."

I'm watching him curiously now. "What sort of paperwork, Jerry?"

"All kinds. Social security card, state ID, passport, medical records, birth certificate, marriage certificate. Ron's ready to set up your papers, but we need a name."

I say hesitantly. "You mean you're setting up a false identity for me?"

"Got to. Everything's so damn paper driven these days." He rinses the soap off me, trickling water over my back. "I won't be able to take you down to the hospital to have the baby if I don't have papers. And you're going to have that baby in a hospital," he says firmly.

I stare at him, then say quietly, "You trust me enough to take me to... to let me get around other people?"

He leans forward and kisses me. "You're my woman. You trust me to take care of you, don't you?" I nod. "Then I trust you. You wouldn't leave me." He strokes my belly yes, I think it's starting to swell, just a little "You wouldn't take my baby."

I cover his hand with mine, not saying anything. I'm still conflicted about this. I know there are reasons I should not want to have a baby with Jerry, but it's getting harder and harder to make myself believe them.

He takes the soap again and turns it in his hands, eventually working up a thick lather. Then he begins to smear one hand over my breasts. The other slides down my abdomen. "You're a sex fiend, you know that, don't you?"

"One of the reasons why you love me." His hands moves down into my pubic hair, and he begins massaging. I lean back, shutting my eyes, and open my legs. He kisses me again as I feel the first finger slide into me, and I sigh into his mouth. He whispers, "This won't hurt the baby. I asked Lally. You'd be surprised what all we can do, as long as we're careful."

"The kid may come out educated."

"Maybe, but he'll know that his mama and daddy love each other, won't he?" His hand speeds up, and I whimper, grabbing his sleeve. "Sh, sweetheart. I just love to make you feel good. Want some more?"

"Jerry..."

"Yes, darlin'." The second finger slips in, and he pushs strongly. I take hold of his shoulders, digging my fingers into the strong muscles, run my hands over his back, his face. I just have to touch him.

My hips jerk, splashing water up over the side of the tub, wetting him, but he doesn’t pause, and I finally throw my arms around his neck and climax with a strangled cry.

I settle back into the tub, trembling, and he begins to dip the warm water over me, rinsing me. "What do you want to be called?"

"Do you really want me to have a new name?"

He sighed. "Not really. I like your name. I can't really imagine you as anyone else but Scribe, but it's necessary."

"Could it be just on paper? Just for the outside world?"

"You mean us still call you by your proper name?" He smiles. "Yes, I think we could do that. Any ideas?"

I think for a moment. Then I say hesitantly. "Would it be all right if... if I used my sister's name?"

Jerry's smile fades, and he looks solemn. Then he says gravely, "I think that would be real sweet of you, Scribe. DeeAnn Bellewood."

I nod. So, Scribe Mozelle has disappeared from the wide world, and DeeAnn Bellewood is to be born. I'm hoping that we both have a long and peaceful life with this man.