"I know. That means I'm growin' up."

"Me too."

"Boys don't get big chests when they grow up, silly."

"No, but they have other things."

They looked at each other, feeling suddenly strange and shy—fascinated, too scared to go farther but pushed by a new and strangely wonderful compulsion.

"Katie—"

"What?"

"I'll show you if you’ll show me."

She had never seen him entirely undressed, not even when they were both little. She forgot her hurts, which were now beginning to leak blood again, as she leaned to put her hand where he was guiding it. For a moment they looked at each other, asking and answering without words, eager and frightened.

Then everything happened at once. He was lying on top of her, and she was hurting, not only in the places where Pa had whipped her but in that other place that was so bad you must never even touch it. It was like being split in two. She lay smothered and hurting, hardly able to breathe because his body rested so heavily on her. And then he rolled off and sat beside her in the hay, crying, with his nose running and the tears sliding down his cheeks. He was unable to look at her. "Paul, what did you do?"

She knew—and yet she didn't know. She had seen and heard the barn cats yowling under the windows at night, and the hogs at mating time. With Paul and the Hansen kids she had risked a thrashing by hiding in the corncrib when Pa took Betsy over to the Hansens' stallion. Was this the way people did it? Was this what married people did in bed at night? If you said a thing out loud it was so—it had really happened. She was afraid to ask.

"I'm sorry, kid."

His voice was choked with crying. He rubbed his eyes, and there were dirty finger marks on his cheeks. He turned away. "Seemed like I couldn't help it. It was my fault."

"It was both our fault. I couldn't help it either."

And that was true. Even when it was hurting the worst, it was like something was pushing her so she couldn't stop.

"It's a terrible sin," Paul said dismally. He wiped his nose on his cut-off sleeve and fumbled at fixing his clothes, looking the other way.

"Pa would kill us both."

"Never tell anybody," Paul said sternly. "It would be awful if anybody found out. Like when Marie Pierce had the baby, remember?"

The most terrible thought struck her now. She grabbed his arm. "You reckon I can get a baby from this?"

Even in the dimness of the haymow, she saw him turn pale. His cheeks were so white the freckles stood out in relief. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Frantic with fear, she shook him. "Can I, though?"

"W-well, that's how they get started. That's what they do. Don't you even know that, for cripes sake?"

"Sure I know it. But can you when it's your brother?"