Hunter’s Moon

by Norah Hess

  But he was off running traps today, and her temper could run rampant if she let it.

  Her plump but shapely body squirmed in its seat. Through narrowed eyes she watched her brother pacing back and forth across the floor. His long black hair swung with the momentum of his stride, and she knew that his dark eyes were snapping in anger.

  Jarvis had always been fast to rile, and it seemed to her that he had become more so since his return home from the war. A day didn't go by that they weren't quarreling about something or other.

  His lewd talk of women was usually the major source of their bickering. She acknowledged that it was his business how many women he chased and laid with, but she stubbornly insisted that it was her business when he tried to talk about them in the cabin and in her presence.

  Often she wished that he would return to the war. Two years ago, when he and Mike had gone to Lexington, Massachusetts, to fight under Ethan Allen against the German mercenaries, had been a peaceful time for her. She sighed and admitted to herself, "I wish he were more like Mike."

  Her eyes fell on her older brother, and a softness came into her face. He filled a corner of her heart that was his alone. Gazing at him beside the fire, intent on the long-rifle he cleaned, she studied the harsh pockmarked face. "He would never argue with me like this," she thought.

  But being deeply honest, she admitted to herself that she would never demand of him what she was proposing Jarvis do. Mike in his stoic way obeyed no orders, and even she could only ask or suggest, but never order.

  His inability to take orders had been one of the reasons he had stayed in the army only one year. Being restless, he had not stayed long with Allen and had moved on to join Washington. After helping him and his troops take about one thousand Hessian soldiers on a Christmas night, he had returned home. He was tired of killing, the freezing weather, and the hunger that had always gnawed at him. She could still remember how he had eaten on the day he had returned to the settlement.

  Mike was thirty-eight years old then and looked older. She recalled him turning to her and saying, "I've had my fill of fighting, Clara. Sometimes I have bad dreams about it."

  She had clasped his head against her breast and brushed her hands across the eyes that told of the suffering and hell he had seen. She urged, "Put it out of your mind, Mike. It's over and behind you."

  "Yes," he had agreed. "You're right, Clara. Only a fool dwells on the past. It's time I got down to some serious living. I'm gonna buy some land from Josh Warden and build a place of my own."

  He had bought a hundred acres from Josh that summer, cleared about twenty acres of it, and built himself a sturdy log house. About once a week he came to visit them and to have supper.

  But Jarvis had liked the lazy life of soldiering and had stayed on with Allen. He had maneuvered himself into the supply department, which gave him the opportunity to drink and wench all he wanted. But wenching had forced him out of the army. He had been caught in bed with an officer's wife and, to escape the beating he was sure to get, had shot and killed the husband. Then to escape hanging, he had fled and returned home. He would have liked to pursue his army way of life, but Clara would have none of it, and in her opinion it was time he took a wife and had a home of his own. Although he was thirty-two years old, he showed no sign of doing either.

  "Young Jim will be married before him," she thought angrily.

  Jarvis had stopped his pacing now and surreptitiously shot quick glances at the door. Clara seeing this, smiled grimly, thinking to herself, "I know it's that time of the day, Jarvis, but I'm gonna make you late today."

  She opened her mouth and said, "Jarvis . . ."

  He interrupted her sharply. "I won't marry the girl, Clara, and that's final!"

  And that summed up the story of the present argument. Clara was determined that he marry the young, rich widow, Darcey Stevens. She was not a mercenary woman at heart. Wealth did not mean that much to her. But the plain fact of the matter was that she was heart-weary of never having quite enough.

  There had been too many winters of worrying where the next meal was coming from. She was sick to death of the wild meat diet they usually subsisted on, her very soul crying out for beef and pork and vegetables. A few extra dollars at this time to balance a poor growing season could make all the difference in the world to them.

  "The girl is sure to marry some man here in the hills, so why not my brother," she had justified herself.

  Determinedly, she squared her shoulders. This time her voice was calm when she spoke.

  "Jarvis, in your thirty-two years, you've had a lot of women. Don't you honestly think that it's time you took a wife and settled down?"

  The vehemence in his voice when he answered her made her wince.

  "No, by God! I ain't ready to settle down to one woman for a good long while . . . if ever," he shouted.

  All calmness and cajolery left her voice. She fell back into her explosive wrath. "It seems to me, Jarvis Delaney, you'd do it for the good of the family! You could at least meet her before you're so final about it."

  She stopped to catch her breath, waiting for his rebuttal, an answering argument already quivering on her lips. But he was wise to her penetrating stare and refused to meet her eyes. The set of his shoulders showed his determination to reject her insistent demand. Running through his mind was the furious thought, "She would never try this kind of thing on Mike."

  To test his theory, he declared defensively, "Why does it have to be me? What's wrong with Mike marrying the widow? He's older than me and has had plenty more women."

  Clara, in her haste to keep Mike out of the argument, stammered over her words, then finally blurted, "You know that Mike don't have no truck with women."

  Jarvis stared at her in opened-mouth disbelief. Mike looked up, a dark scowl on his face. "Leave me out of this," he growled. "I don't want no female over at my place meddling around."

  Calmly assuming that the matter was closed, he returned his attention to the gun.

  Infuriated at Mike's arrogant manner, Jarvis stared a moment at the set and ruthless profile. Then suddenly, he shouted angrily, "The hell he won't have no truck with them! When he gets that old itch, he trucks with them plenty."

  Feeling Mike's threatening stare after his outburst, Jarvis stopped his pacing and sat down uneasily. He had overstepped the hard and fast rule of talking about coupling and such in the house. Clara, dark disapproval on her face, lashed out, "You can cut out that kind of talk in my presence Jarvis Delaney!" He sent a resentful look in Mike's direction.

  "I'm sorry I talked out of turn, Clara, but every word I said is true," he sulked.

  And catching the sardonic smile Mike sent his way, Jarvis swore helplessly under his breath.

  Surprisingly, no storm of words came from Clara. She had learned accidentally one day last summer of Mike's association with women and couldn't in all honesty defend her favorite brother.

  She had been squatting, unseen, pulling out weeds between a thick row of tall hollyhocks. Bill and some of his friends had been sitting by the river, a few feet from her, hoping to catch a cool breeze. Hearing Mike's name spoken, she had listened.

  "He's a mean, ornery cuss, there's no doubt about that," one man had said. "Always hellin' around. There most likely ain't a woman in these hills that's safe from him . . . ceptin' the old ones and the ugly ones."

  "Mike never did like anything that was ugly," Bill had replied. "That goes for women or animals. He admires beauty. But there's one thing you got all wrong. Mike would never take a woman against her will."

  The man had answered, "Yeah, come to think about it, I did hear that about him. I heard he don't never chase a woman. When he's got one, she comes all on her own."

  Then another voice had chimed in, "Yeah, I guess there is plenty of females anxious to wrinkle the sheets with him and then find out too late they've got more on their hands than they can handle."

  Clara had not waited to hear more. She had jumped to her fe
et and hurried into the cabin, the raucous laughter ringing in her ears. Her mind in agitated confusion, she had stood at the dry-sink, rubbing mud from her fingers, her mind rejecting, but finally accepting, the overheard conversation.

  "It is true, of course, or Bill would have put a lie to it," she had whispered to herself.

  She ended up consoling herself with the thought that since Mike was single, he was restless and that was why he chased so much.

  Bill could have told her that when it came to women, there wasn't a great deal of difference between Mike and Jarvis. But even had he told her this, she would have still made excuses for Mike and called the devil down around Jarvis's head.

  A cedar knot popped in the fire, its noise shaking her out of her reverie. Quickly she brought her attention back to the immediate problem and began to argue again.

  "How like you, Jarvis, to throw such words into the air to take the pressure off yourself. Well, you're not fooling me. You're just trying to change the subject."

  "I ain't trying to change it. I'm trying to end it."

  Clara stood and moved around the table to face him. "I know the real reason you won't marry Darcey Stevens."

  Startled by the tone of her voice, he looked at her searchingly, wondering what she was hinting at. Nervously, he said, "I know you do. I told you why."

  She shook her head. "Oh, no. That's not the reason."

  "All right," he growled. "You're so smart, you tell me."

  "It's that slut, Meg Johnson!" she shot at him. "Everyone in Crawler's Creek knows you're smelling after her."

  His mouth hung open at her unexpected words and Mike laughed. Jarvis ignored the sound, wondering how Clara had discovered his secret. He and Meg had been careful, meeting only in the old rundown shack back of Mike's place. He ran his fingers through his hair and blurted, "What gossipy old woman told you that lie?"

  A fleeting shadow of amusement flickered across Clara's face. She had at last penetrated his thick skin and, feeling the pleasure of it, let a couple of moments go by before answering. "It's no lie, brother dear. I saw you meet her one day at the old cabin."

  And now, caught up in the excitement of having Jarvis trapped off guard, she forgot her own rule and added, "She had your pants open before you could get through the door."

  The roar of Mike's laughter was like a clap of thunder. He slapped his knees in his delight. The drowsing hound at his feet, looked up, twitched his tail a couple of times and went back to sleep.

  Mike's laughter was added fuel to Jarvis's building rage. He turned to Mike. "Why did you have to tell her, you bastard?"

  The laughter went out of Mike's face, and his body grew tense. Carefully, he laid the gun down and eased forward in his chair. Fixing Jarvis with a cold stare, he said evenly, "I didn't, but you're free to think what you please."

  He paused a moment and then the hard cold of his eyes turned into a wicked gleam. "Clara was right about ole Meg. She sure goes at you. I didn't think she was gonna let you get to the bed."

  Her face showing her alarm, Clara reached behind her for a chair. She was afraid she had started something that was getting out of hand. The conversation was getting a bit raw, and as angry as the brothers were, it was apt to get worse. But knowing that Mike could handle the situation, she decided to stay out of the warfare of words between them. She picked up her darning basket and began sewing a patch on a pair of Charlie's homespuns while waiting for the outcome of the anger that lay so thick in the room.

  Jarvis, his face white and his nostrils flaring, stood uncertainly beside Mike, repressing the desire to punch the white teeth that gleamed between the firm lips. The dread of the rock-hard fist that would come flying back turned him against violence. Also, he realized if Mike said he didn't tell Clara, he didn't.

  He made no response to Mike but took up his pacing again, mulling over in his mind the problems that might arise now that his and Meg's secret was out. What people said or thought didn't bother him, but he didn't want another jealous husband after him again, maybe with a gun.

  After a while he hit on the idea of swinging Clara to his and Meg's side. Clara was highly respected in the hills and could squash all rumors if she was of a mind to.

  Despite the contemptuous look that hovered around her lips, he began smoothly, "You've got Meg all wrong, Clara. She's a nice person when you get to know her. She just married the wrong man . . . Abe is too old for her. He never takes her any place or shows her any fun."

  Clara and Mike stared at him suspiciously. "Could he be that dumb?" Clara wondered.

  Mike meanwhile suspected that Jarvis was deliberately insulting their intelligence. "No one can be that dumb," he said to himself.

  But after Clara studied his face a moment, she was convinced that Jarvis firmly believed what he was saying. "Old Slicker himself has been outslickered," she said mentally and wondered what it would do to his ego when he learned what Meg really was.

  She continued to sew a moment longer, carefully choosing the words that would lift the veil from his eyes.

  "Jarvis, if you really believe what you just said, you're the dumbest man in these hills," she declared.

  She was interrupted by Mike's loud, "Amen!" When Jarvis opened his mouth to reply, she held up her hand for silence and then continued, "I know that you probably don't know too much about Meg Johnson, just getting out of the army and all, so I'm gonna tell you about her and I want you to listen carefully." She paused to make sure he was paying full attention.

  "I have known Meg since she came here a little over two years ago as Abe Johnson's wife. Me and the other women all welcomed her as we did all newcomers and treated her friendly. And although from the start she was churlish and unfriendly, we thought maybe she was shy and would warm to us later. However, shortly after her baby was born, she began paying back the women's friendliness by laying with their husbands."

  At those words, Jarvis started, and began to rise to his feet. But she reached out a hand and pushed him firmly back into his seat. "I'm about finished, and then you can have your say."

  Clara went on, "The fact that everybody liked and respected Abe is the only reason that the women didn't run her out of the hills on a rail. Meg Johnson is a no good man-chasing female."

  From across the room, Mike watched the different expressions that chased across Jarvis's face, ranging from swift denial, to slow anger, and then to doubt. And when denial returned and remained, he smiled scornfully.

  Jarvis said accusingly, "Meg told me that you and the other women didn't like her. You pick on her because she's a stranger here in the hills. Them are all lies that the women tell on her. Besides Abe, I'm the only man she has ever been with."

  While Clara stared, her tongue paralyzed, Mike snorted and spat contemptuously into the fire. Then, leisurely stretching his muscular body, he drawled lazily, "Aw shit, Jarvis, before you come home from the war, I had her every day for six months. Who do you think taught her all those little tricks she knows?"

  Jarvis's face went white with added anger at Mike's words. Jumping to his feet, he shouted, "Damn you, Mike! You're lying in your teeth!"

  "No, by God, I'm not!"

  For a moment Jarvis stood helpless in his fury. And then a spasm of self-scorn flickered in his eyes as he faced the truth. He had always suspected that Meg was awfully experienced to have learned it all from old Abe.

  He promised himself that she would pay dearly for her deception. His egotism momentarily weakened, he grabbed up his coat and slammed out of the cabin, Mike's mocking laughter beating in his ears.

  Her sewing lay forgotten in her lap as Clara stared at the closed door. "I brought all this on," she thought. "My hungering for money caused it all to happen. It was a ridiculous thing I asked of him."

  Full of remorse, she turned to Mike. "Do you think we went too far this time?"

  "Naw. You know Jarvis's hard head. If you don't give it to him head-on, he don't catch on to anything."

  "I wonder if he'll be thro
ugh with that slut now that he knows about her?"

  "He won't care for her anymore, but he'll keep on seeing her. Her ways is in his blood now." He waited a minute and added, "I'll tell you something else. Meg is crazy wild about him. If he ever wants to drop her, he's gonna have one hell of a time doing it. She's gonna hang on him worse than a tick on a dog."

  Clara gloomily nodded in acquiescence. She had long since suspected that strong emotions were involved in the clandestine affair. At least on Meg's side. There hadn't been any reports recently of her hanging around the grain mill.

  Before Jarvis, the mill had been her source of bed partners. She had her regulars and knew which day each man would bring his grain to the mill. Reportedly, she had struck up an agreement with the highly disreputable man that ran the mill. As the story went, he could take her into the back room of the mill in the mornings, if she in return could use the room in the afternoon with a man of her own choosing.

  The miller, being a bachelor and strictly a whore-monger, had liked the setup, and when Meg's visits had stopped, he had angrily let it be known that she was entertaining Jarvis exclusively.

  He was overheard one day threatening Meg that he was going to Abe and tell him everything. It was rumored then that she still slipped over to the mill every morning to pacify the miller's lusty appetite.

  Clara shook her head in disgust at the dirtiness of the whole affair and wondered where it would end.

  A companionable silence built between them, each deep in his own thoughts. After a while Mike stretched lazily and said, "I guess it's time me and Si start for home."

  She rose with him and walked him to the door. When he had gone, she stood by the window and watched his retreating back. His long stride soon hit the trail that led into the wilderness and on to his cabin. As the dense forest swallowed him from view, her mind swung back over the years.

  Almost ten years had passed since the illness that had taken their parents. Jim and Jarvis had made their home with her and Bill, while Mike had joined a group of long-hunters, staying with them until his short time spent in the army. She held a deep love for her hard yet tender brother and had been very happy when he announced that he intended to have his own place.