by Norah Hess
And most importantly, she had already met Mike. For a long time Mike was vivid in her mind. Many times she would awake in the gray dawn and lay there dry-eyed, thinking about him.
But the long days had passed, and out of loneliness and boredom she had been drawn more and more to Jarvis's touchings and urgings. Sometimes a week would go by and she wouldn't think of Mike.
Still, when the wind howled and the snow slanted down in a white curtain, she would think of him and wonder what he was doing.
Watching Jarvis's wide frame move up the snow-packed path, she recalled their coming together. He had arrived as usual, right after supper. She had opened the door to his knock, and he had looked so handsome and virile with his white teeth flashing she had unconsciously leaned toward him. And being Jarvis, he had sensed her weakening right away. Even before he took off his coat, his arms went about her, and his warm lips were claiming hers hungrily. She strained into him, and his hand came up to cup a breast.
Within seconds his coat was off, and they were lying on the bed. And noticing her unconcern for Cindy and Simon's presence, he had drawn a blanket over them and disrobed her. Beneath the secrecy of the cover he began kissing her again.
His lips trailed a path from her fast-beating pulse to the valley of her breasts. There he lingered, pulling each nipple in turn into his mouth. She moaned as he sucked gently, and he moved his head down to the inside of her thigh.
As he sucked the soft flesh, she spread her legs apart and he moved his head to lie between them. She breathed faster and faster until her breath came in short pants. Her eyes rolled back and she twisted her fingers in his hair, pushing herself into his face.
He had risen on his knees then and slid out of his buckskins. Quickly he crawled between her bent knees and guided himself into her. He grabbed her writhing buttocks and, lifting her up, drove steadily in and out with long sure strokes. Then together they were stiffening spasmodically, over and over. A moment later, he was collapsing on top of her.
He was a demanding lover, and she had been exhausted before he was sated. Every night since, it had been the same. Cindy and Simon referred to him as the "stud." They disliked and distrusted him from the first time he stood in the door, his hunger plain in his eyes.
And so the long winter evenings had passed with him becoming more enamored of her.
Sometimes she felt qualms of guilt that she did not return his love. She had tried, but it had been useless. Mike's face always came between them.
She sighed, shook her head, and moved to open the door. "What are you doing here at this hour?" she asked sharply.
"Now, hon, is that the way for a pretty thing to talk to her man?" he murmured, drawing her resisting body toward him and slipping a hand down the front of her dress.
She pulled back and slapped at his hand. "Stop your damned pawing at me," she snapped. "Why aren't you out running the traps with Jim and Bill?"
The surliness of his true nature spread over his face. Pouting, he answered grumpily, "Because Clara sent me over here to invite you to a party."
A wide smile broke across Darcey's face, and her voice radiated her excitement. "A party. Really, Jarvis, a party?"
Seeing the pleasure and excitement on her face, Jarvis's easily changing mood swung to meet hers with equal excitement. "Yep. Put on your prettiest dress. I want to show you off proper."
"Oh, I will, I will," she answered, her mind running in circles with the preparations she had to make.
And when Jarvis said, "I'm gonna be gone for a while, Darcy. I've still got half the settlement to invite," she didn't even hear him.
But as he was walking toward the door and added over his shoulder, "You be ready when I get back," two tongues stuck out at his retreating back. He didn't see the grimaces, but faintly he heard the snicker that escaped Simon's lips. He wondered idly what the black man found so funny to laugh about. That anyone would laugh at him never entered his mind.
As Jarvis walked along the back trails going from one neighbor to the next, without warning a short, squat figure stepped from behind a tree and stood in front of him. Startled, he looked into Meg's face. For an embarrassed moment he stared at her, his mind searching for words.
What did one say to a woman he had thrown over without an explanation? He had not seen her since Darcey had welcomed him into her bed. In fact, he had not even thought of her.
He was shocked to see how vastly changed she had become in the past month. In the clear afternoon light the huge circles that ringed her eyes stood out. And so did the drawn lines that were etched in the corners of her mouth. Coldly and unfeelingly, he wondered what he had ever seen in her.
But Meg's eyes were hungrily devouring him, her look taking in every detail of his body and lingering on the belt buckle area. And Jarvis, watching her narrowly, grinned wolfishly, easily reading the thoughts that flashed across her face.
Finally, it was Meg who broke the silence, her voice whining and chiding, "Where have you been, Jarvis? I wait every afternoon at the old cabin."
And while she waited for his answer, watching him anxiously, a growing dread crept over her. His eyes lacked the warmth she wanted to see in them. In truth, their expression indicated that he resented her being there.
When he shrugged his shoulders and said shortly, "I've been busy helpin' Bill," she looked at him searchingly and knew that he lied. Into the strained silence, she said, "There's another woman."
His face reddened and his guilt showed. In a dark fury, Meg lashed out, "Damn you, Jarvis. Who is she?"
Jarvis tried to laugh lightly, as though to ridicule such an idea. "You're crazy in the head. Who told you such a tale?"
"I don't have to be told. I know you too well not to know you're layin' with some woman. You got that satisfied look."
When he did not answer her, but only stood with an obstinate scowl on his face, Meg's rage dissolved. Touching his arm in a fawning way, she murmured, "Jarvis, why do you seek another woman? You know that there's nothing in the world I wouldn't do for you if you'll only love me a little."
Painfully she saw denial flash in his eyes. And worse, a cold contempt had crept into them. Suddenly beside herself in grief, she threw herself at his feet and clasped him around the knees. "Jarvis. Don't look at me like that. Have you forgotten all the times I gave you pleasure?"
As her plea rang out, she felt him growing hard beside her cheek. Encouraged, she looked up eagerly and caught her breath at the light in his eyes. When he began to unbuckle his belt, she labeled the gleam as love. A sneer tugged at his lips.
"You been missin' this, Meg?" He backed away several feet and continued, "Crawl over here, and I'll let you have it awhile."
She stared, hesitating a moment, then dropped down on all fours. Reaching him, she took hold of his leg and pulled herself up. He grabbed her jaws with rough hands and forced her mouth open.
It was some time before he was fully relieved and pulled himself free. "That was a fair job, Meg," he leered and began to button himself up.
Almost frantic, Meg clawed at him, trying to restrain his hand. "What about me?" she cried. "I hurt, Jarvis."
He swore and pulled himself away, but she grabbed him again and tried to pull him down beside her. "Just once," she coaxed. "Please?"
He raised his foot and with a vicious push, kicked her onto the ground. "My new woman wouldn't want me layin' with you, slut. She's right jealous."
She stared up at him, disbelief wide in her eyes. When he turned and started to walk away, she scrambled to her feet and took a few steps after him. "You'd better not go back to her," she threatened in a shrill voice.
He turned and studied her through half-closed eyes. "And if I do?" he snapped, his voice dangerously low. "What will you do about it, whore?"
Her words came tumbling out in a rush. "I'll tell her and everybody in Crawler's Creek that I am carrying your baby."
For a moment he could only stare at her blankly. Then his body went tight with a fury he cou
ld not control. His reaction was swift and violent and the crack of his hand was sharp in the forest stillness.
The blow sent her reeling into a tree, and she clutched her mouth tightly. Her lip was split and running blood. She swiped at her mouth and looked fearfully at Jarvis.
He advanced on her cowering form and gathered the front of her coat in his hand. Giving it a twist, he grated through clenched teeth, "You bitch. Breathe one word that you're carryin' my kid in your belly, and I'll cut it out of you."
He turned on his heel and disappeared into the gathering dusk. Meg peered after him, her dark eyes smoldering. "You'll pay dearly for that slap someday," she muttered darkly. "And the bitch that took you away from me will pay the dearest."
Darcey was ready and waiting impatiently when Jarvis finally returned. From his manner one would never suspect the gamut of emotions he had experienced since leaving the cabin. His was a nature that could shed anything that was annoying or unpleasant. In his egotistical assurance of Meg, he had dismissed her threat as unimportant. She would keep her mouth shut in hope of seeing him again.
His thoughts were on Darcey now. He stared at her proudly. Every man at the party would envy him.
Darcey's pale hair was piled in loose curls on top of her small head, and her amber eyes glowed in anticipation. Her dark green velvet dress fit her shapely body to perfection. Jarvis's eyes fastened on the protruding top half of her breasts and was sorry that he had made Meg drain him.
Darcey was worried about the low cut of her dress. She turned to Cindy. "Do you think the hill women will be shocked at my neck line?"
"Be yourself, child," Cindy advised. Then she pointed out, "Them women know you ain't hill born."
"Cindy's right, hon. Don't worry about it," Jarvis said, coming up behind her and kissing the back of her neck.
She moved away from him and said crossly, "Don't do that. You'll mess my hair."
A hurt expression came into his eyes. Darcey constantly puzzled and confused him. When he asked, "What's wrong, honey, don't you feel well tonight?" the humble note in his voice touched Darcey.
For a fleeting second she felt sorry for him. To take the sting out of her previous words, she smiled sweetly and said, "I'm fine, Jarvis. I'm just concerned about my dress."
Reassured that her disposition had nothing to do with him, he sought to pull her into his arms. But she eluded him and said that they'd better get going.
Frustrated anger evident in his voice, Jarvis snapped, "You're the most contrary female I ever knew."
The party was in full swing when they arrived, and as the ladies gathered around, exclaiming over her hair and dress, Darcey gave a sigh of relief.
Clara came to greet her, and they embraced warmly. Then at Bill's laughing insistence, she hugged him also. Turning to the grinning Jim and Charlie, she teased, "You fellows too?"
And although the offer was tempting, they blushed and declined.
They stood awhile in their friendly little group, Clara and Darcey discussing the velvet dress. Then Clara was called away, and Darcey and Jarvis seated themselves on a bench alongside the wall.
Darcey glanced around the room. At first she thought she knew everyone there, but then her eyes fell on a dark-haired woman sitting next to an older man. The woman appeared to be in the first months of pregnancy and, from the scowl on her face, seemed none too happy about it.
The pair sat off by themselves, taking no part in the bright and lively party. Occasionally a man would pause and talk awhile to the man, but she noticed that no female approached the woman and offered conversation.
Darcey wondered why she had never met the couple before.
After a while Darcey became aware that the woman kept staring at her. The eyes were full of hostility. Finally, she nudged Jarvis and whispered, "Who is that dark woman sitting next to the old man? She keeps staring at me."
She felt Jarvis's arm next to her jerk. Then he was asking nervously, "Where?"
She indicated the couple and was surprised to feel his body stiffen. When he continued to stare and didn't answer, her curiosity was whetted and she pressed him for an answer. "Why don't you answer me, Jarvis? Who is that woman?"
Jarvis was enraged that Meg had the nerve to show herself at Clara's party. "What is that bitch up to," he fumed. His mind raced crazily for words that would absolve him from any previous associations with Meg.
Then his wily mind clamped on an idea. He had thought of a way that would clear him of any possible suspicions that might enter Darcey's mind in the future. His composure regained, he remarked casually, "She's nobody. Just a bitch my brother Mike lays with."
Darcey's breath caught in her throat. Jarvis's words were like a cold wind blowing against her. She huddled down in an agonized silence, staring at the floor.
"I'm gonna get some cider," Jarvis spoke. "Do you want a cup?" And not waiting for an answer, he stalked over to the table that held the bowl.
He had seen Meg making her way there, and he intended to have some words with her. When he stood beside her at the table, he was aware that all eyes were upon them. He dipped the ladle into the bowl and whispered from the side of his mouth, "Who asked you here, slut?"
Meg wilted under his brutal words. Her hands shook so hard that she spilled her cider on her fingers. In a small, nervous voice, she faltered, "Bill invited Abe."
"Well, don't go hangin' around me. And keep your eyes off Darcey Stevens."
Unconsciously Meg stared after Jarvis's back. Then realizing that everyone was staring at her, she quickly lowered her eyes. Angrily, she knew that the hill women were deriving great satisfaction from Jarvis's rejection. Blindly, she rejoined her husband, a battery of bitter eyes following her.
Darcey took the cup from Jarvis and held it. She felt numb. Mike loved that sour-faced woman, and she was carrying his child. That was why the time spent in his cabin had meant nothing to him. She had been only a passing interlude.
Clara came and sat beside her. "Aren't you feelin' well, Darcey? You look so pale."
Darcey jumped at the flimsy excuse of having a headache. "Would you mind terribly, Clara, if Jarvis took me home now?"
Clara was all sympathy. "My goodness no, child. I'm sorry you ain't feelin' well, though. Is there anything I can get you?"
"No. But thanks anyway. Cindy will give me something when I get home."
When Darcey and Jarvis left, only Meg saw them go. She stared after them, hate and revenge clouding her black eyes.
CHAPTER 10
Mike had been back at the hovel several days before he found a chance to be alone with Sarie. Jake seldom went outside for any reason, including the act of relieving himself. It was one of Sarie's duties to carry the slop jar wherever he might be sitting or lying. He derived sick pleasure out of making her hold the jar.
Mike, watching these demeaning acts, would wonder if they were done for his benefit. It was the sort of thing that Jake would do to show his power over Sarie. He had been careful to keep his anger hidden, pretending an indifference that he hoped would bring a stop to the indignities.
But it hadn't worked out that way. As the winter wore on, Jake's behavior became more and more intolerable.
While Mike was in the wilderness, he had given a lot of thought to Sarie's predicament. A few possibilities had come to him, but usually they had been promptly discarded for one reason or the other.
At one time he had thought to bring her with him to the long-hunter's camp, but he quickly rejected the idea. The hunters were a rough lot, and Sarie would be like a lamb thrown to the wolves. She would be at the mercy of any man who chose to tell her to lie down and spread. There could even be three or four who might want her at the same time. He had seen that happen to women in the hunter's camp.
But thinking about that brought him to the solution that he thought was the answer.
He moved to the door and peered out through a wide crack. He saw Jake some distance away, sitting on a boulder, soaking up the sun. He return
ed to Sarie and spoke low and hurriedly.
"Listen, Sarie. I been thinkin' on your problem like I promised. I think I have an answer for you."
Sarie's body grew tight with attention. She stared at him and held her breath. For a moment Mike's eyes faltered before her trusting look. Then determinedly, he plunged on.
"Now, Sarie, by your own admission you said that Jake has ruined any chance of you makin' a decent marriage. Right?" She nodded and he continued, "Well, there's one thing he has done for you that will take you away from here forever."
Sarie sat forward on the edge of her chair, her eyes eager. For a moment he faltered and wondered if he shouldn't forget the whole thing, for, although the plan might seem perfect to him, Sarie might take an altogether different view of it.
But the more he thought, the more he became convinced that she would go along with it. After all, even an alliance with Satan would be better than another winter spent with Jake.
He took a deep breath and began to speak rapidly. "It's this way, Sarie. There's this woman I want to take you to. I think she will give you a job. It will . . ." Again he stopped, fumbling for words.
"Yes, Mike?" Sarie urged. "What kind of job is it?"
Encouraged by her eagerness, he was able to continue. "Well, actually, Sarie, you'd be doin' the same things that you do for Jake and me, the only difference bein' you would get paid for it."
The breath whooshed out of his mouth. It was said.
He waited patiently for her mind to take in his words and digest them. It might take awhile for her to realize that he was proposing that she become a paid whore.
Trying to encourage her, he said, "Jake has made an expert out of you in the ways of pleasurin' a man, Sarie. I know of only one other woman that can pleasure me more than you."
She looked at him for a quiet moment. Then she asked, "You mean the girl, Darcey?"
"Yes. The girl, Darcey," he answered low.
