by J. R. Biery
“Over twenty, I used four when we extended the garden.
“All right, how big do you think it needs to be?”
She froze, swiveling her head toward the house. “It needs to be at least big enough for fifty chickens to spread out on the ground. A big need is a door so I can let them out in the day, coop them up at night.”
She was already heading back to the house, bending to scoop up J.D. who was complaining and trying to pull himself up by the cradle side. She lifted the baby and balanced him on her hip as she stepped to the rail.
“Jackson.”
He raised a brow at the summons, and then smiled as J.D. chortled and waved his plump naked arms at him. He reached for him and Hattie apologized, “he’s wet.”
“Cleaner than any of those cows I handled this morning.” Jackson laughed and took him, bending to kiss the soft neck. The laugh made the other men laugh as well.
Hattie disappeared into the house. She moved the pot of beans that had boiled over to the back eye, tilting the pot lid. She took a minute to check the roast that was already starting to brown in the oven. As the wood burned down, the oven would still be hot enough to cook the meat to the brown outside, red inside that the men preferred. Satisfied that she could leave everything, she grabbed a dry diaper, long sleeved gown, and bonnet for J.D.
When she came out, she was surprised to only find Jackson sitting in the rocker, a naked J.D. standing on his knees, his little bare bottom bouncing up and down as he squealed in laughter. She laughed at the two.
“Your Daddy is a brave man.”
J.D. laughed and Jackson patted the little bottom. “You wouldn’t pee on daddy, would you pardner?”
As though he understood the word, J.D. started to pee but Jackson laughed and just held him out so the spray hit the porch, not him. When the stream stopped he lifted the laughing baby back on his lap. “Why fight a good system?”
“Good for who? He just made two messes instead of one. I was wondering, if you could, well I was thinking, maybe you would like to fence in this porch as well.”
Jackson scowled at her and she kept talking while struggling to get the long sleeved lawn gown over the baby’s head despite his protest and wiggles. “Why smother him in all that?”
“If I don’t, he’ll cook in the sun.” She managed the last sleeve, and then held up the bonnet she had carried outside. “I can make a little mattress and cover it and if the porch was changed, so the bottom has another rail so he can’t get through and the top were screened, then when he gets a little bigger and ready to crawl, he would have a safe place to play in.”
“And you brought it up, because?”
She finished dressing the baby and pulled him back onto her hip. “No, Jackie, leave it on.” She sighed as he pulled off the bonnet and pulled it into his mouth. “I thought while you had the men ready to work, they might tackle this as their next project.”
He rose towering over her, and Hattie forced herself not to give way and crouch by the rail. “One thing at a time. You got any more suggestions; you better come out to the barn and show us.” Ignoring her, he took the baby back in his arms, letting him ride on his arm as though he were weightless instead of nearly twenty pounds.
Hattie hurried ahead, eager to get through and back to her jobs in the kitchen. If she worked quickly, she might have time to make a batch of yeast bread after sweeping the floor and mopping the kitchen area and the porch.
The afternoon flew by. Jackson had kept the baby with him, saying, “No, we’ve got work to do, don’t we boy?” She had nearly an hour with her hands free, time to make bread and prepare the other vegetables as well as managing to sweep and mop inside and out. When J.D. grew tired, and curled into his daddy’s neck, he had carried him back inside and given him to Hattie.
He was pink from the sun and she wanted to scold them both, but the baby looked so sleepy and content that she took him without protest, only taking time to wipe his face and neck before feeding him and putting him down for a long nap.
When she had the table set, meat and bread sliced, she came out on the porch to ring the cow bell Rubye used to call the gathering men into dinner.
The room quickly filled up with hot sweaty cowboys and Hattie would have left to hide, but after this morning and the sympathetic looks from the men, she felt safe to finish serving the food. She added the cooked green beans and wilted garden greens drizzled with bacon fat and crumbled bacon. The real draw was the ice cold tea she had cooled in the cellar and the fresh baked sliced loaf bread. James Boyd asked if she needed help. When she shook her head he wearily settled into her place at the table and let her wait table, refilling glasses of tea and milk as quickly as they drank it.
When J. D. woke, it was Jackson who went and fetched him. He seemed happy to be passed around from man to man, each one playing and joking with him, letting him sip their tea or milk, eat their potatoes. They laughed when he made faces at the wilted greens, shaking his head at the sour, sweet taste, and then leaning forward to taste it again. He tried to eat bread when he reached James’ chair, but Hattie had to use a finger to rake it out of his mouth when he started to cough.
He made a face and bit her.
“Ow,” she pulled her finger out. “Hey you, is there a tooth in there?”
Jackson reached over, holding out a finger, then gave a loud “ouch! That’s a sharp little milk tooth.”
He smiled at Hattie, “You’ll be in troub…,” the words faded away and he blushed scarlet, swallowing hard as the men looked away at Hattie’s gasp and florid face.
J. D. started at the look on her face, and then began to wail. She stiffened, set the pitcher of tea down, and took the baby from James lap. Holding him close, she fled from the room.
As she closed the door, she heard one of the cowboys say. “I don’t see how it has anything to do with it, calves, kittens and puppies all come with teeth and their mommas manage just fine.”
“Hush, Tony,” James scolded, and then stood up to take over the chore of waiting on table and cleaning up.
<><><>
By noon the next day, the chicken coop was started and Jackson and the cowboy carpenters had moved to the porch to work out how to change it into a playpen for the boy, but still look and work as a porch.
Hattie had laid out a simple lunch. Leftover roast beef, sliced thin, served with thick sliced bread. The table was loaded with plates of sliced ripe tomatoes, big onions, and fresh cucumbers, and a big platter of dressed eggs. Pitchers of water and milk sat at either end of the table and the huge pot of black coffee sat on the back of the stove. She slipped outside, leaving the men to serve themselves when Jackson called her name.
“The foods on the table,” Jackson called names and some of the men went on inside while the young men and James stood waiting.
Jackson stood with his hand as a visible marker for where he wanted rails to be added. Ben and Tony were arguing that they were too close. “How close do they need to be to keep him in?”
She disappeared and reappeared with the boy bouncing on her hip. While she stood there, Jackson measured with his hand the correct width needed to keep the boy from wiggling through the rails. The last two men rode up. Neither spoke nor looked her way. Hattie felt the old shame wash over her. Had they stopped, talked to someone, heard some new rumor that reminded them she was a scarlet woman?
They removed their hats as they walked past quickly into the house, not making eye contact. Jackson stepped up onto the porch, his face expressionless as he walked into the house. Tony and Ben made excuses and walked past her into the house. Hattie heard frantic whispers, hushed “oh no’s,” then more muffled voices.
A few minutes later, the men began to stream out, tipping their hats but quietly drifting away until the two late-comers came out, carrying plates loaded with food and mugs of coffee. Even James tiptoed past, “I’ll clean up later,” he said softly.
Hattie folded her arms around Jackie and pulled him close to her che
st and rocked back and forth on her heels, upset, but unsure of why? Such a small thing, a snub by some of the men. But it brought all her old insecurities rushing forth. She felt a tightness in her chest. J.D. reached out a hand to touch her face and she gave a choked laugh, kissing the little nose and intent face. “Jackie, my love, thank you.” She brought him even closer to kiss, accepting all the unconditional love.
Jackson stepped out on the porch and she turned her back to him, hiding against the baby. He waited, giving her a chance to face him but she didn’t, just stood looking sadly out into the distance. He sank into the rocker, reached into the cradle to pick up J.D.’s pony and gave it a shake.
When the boy reached for his favorite toy, Hattie surrendered him to his daddy. Jackson took the boy, nuzzled him, and then set him into the cradle beside him. Talking softly he began.
“Hank and Cliff saw some buzzards when they were out.”
Hattie looked up, surprising him with her sudden jump to the conclusion. “They found one of the rustlers dead?”
He shook his head, looking around at the deserted yard. All the men clearly didn’t want to hear or see her reaction. “It was your horse, Nugget.”
Hattie felt her lip quiver and her emotions switch again. “He was getting old.”
“No, he got shot, Sunday when we had the shootout with the outlaws. We’d looked for him, surprised he wasn’t still with the mules and your herd.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It was a shot to his chest. He must have run a long time. They found him, up in the north sector. It looks like it pierced a lung. Eventually, he wore down. Once he went down, his other lung would have collapsed.”
Hattie pictured her fat old horse, gold coat flecked with blood, frightened, hurt, and alone to suffer such a long death.
The tears that she had held back for weeks were flowing, soft and quiet down her cheeks. Jackson held out a hand and pulled her toward him and she started crying for real. He pulled her onto his lap, lifted her legs to rest on the arm of the chair so that she was draped against him. J. D. looked up, his face puckering up in sympathy at the sound of her sobs. Without hesitation, he pulled the boy up into his arms and together, he and Hattie held the baby between them. Without thinking, Jackson nuzzled her, kissing the top of her head, then turning to nuzzle and kiss the baby.
They heard a wagon pull into the yard. Hattie started to pull away, but he held her closer, confused about what he was feeling, just knowing he didn’t want to release her until she stopped crying.
<><><>
“My word, it’s worse than she said.”
Hattie pushed against the rock hard chest, though she wanted nothing more than to sit and feel safe a little longer.
She lifted her apron and wiped her eyes, blew her nose. In horror, she looked out from where she sat to see her preacher and two of the deacons. They were staring at her like she was some kind of monster. She realized her petticoat was flipped up and her ankles were exposed, worse, she was sitting in a man’s lap in plain sight. Together, they were holding a nearly naked baby.
From the thunderous look in her pastor’s eyes, Hattie wondered how much worse things could get. She rose shakily, holding the baby in her arms, trying to keep him from wiggling down to her breasts.
“Brother Harper,” the preacher thundered. “You must put this woman out of your home at once. You are offending God and the people of this community with your sinful ways.”
Jackson stood up, prepared to argue, but Hattie moved behind him and he felt a compelling urge to protect her from their thunderous condemnation. “Never, my son needs her.”
“If you are not going to put her out, then you must marry her,” the preacher stated. Both deacons shouted agreement.
“A man cannot have a woman sleeping alone in his house, unless they are married.”
“She’s not alone in the house with me. James Boyd sleeps in the house too.”
The deacons shook their heads and the preacher again spoke for them all. “Sleeping with two men is not better than sleeping with one.”
“We’ve done nothing wrong. There’s no reason for us to get married. If people want to talk, let them talk. I’ll marry again, when I feel there’s a need, not when a bunch of busybodies order me to.”
Hattie turned, crying so hard, she could barely find the door handle. She managed to reach the bedroom, tumbling onto the bed with the crying baby. Minutes later, she was lying there nursing him.
She couldn’t stop crying. He didn’t want to marry her. Why did his saying those words, hurt so much? She felt like the world had ended. J. D. patted her face and whimpered and she leaned down to kiss him, raised him to hug close, and then changed breasts to continue feeding him.
The reason she realized was obvious. She loved him. But clearly he didn’t love her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
There was a knock on the door. “Miss Stoddard?”
Hattie stirred; surprised she had fallen asleep beside the baby. How had all her wretchedness changed into slumber?
“Just a few minutes, please?”
It was ten minutes before Hattie opened the door. J.D. was asleep in the crib, once more properly gowned. She had cleaned her face and changed from the sweat soaked blouse to a fresh unstained one. Her hair was once again neatly combed and pinned. Except for the pink puffiness of her eyes, she felt almost presentable.
She opened the door and Pastor Goodwin stepped inside, cautiously leaving the door half open. “Miss Stoddard, we’re waiting on you outside.”
Hattie turned with a frown, “What are you saying?”
“Mr. Harper is ready to do the right thing. He has agreed to marry you.”
“Really, how noble of him. What makes you think I’m willing to marry him?”
“My dear girl, if you are ever to regain any shred of respectability, this is your only choice.”
“And what, Pastor Goodwin, would a woman of my reported morals, care about respectability and community opinion?” Hattie stiffened her spine and put her hands on her hips, trying to look like a woman of ill repute.
Pastor Goodwin stepped around her and stared down at the baby.
Hattie moved protectively to stand closer to the baby, in case this pompous fool should start insulting Donna’s baby, the way he had her.
His soft voice shocked her. “My dear, if you don’t marry him, you’ll have no choice but to leave.” He opened his arms wide, his hand and open palm above the boy. “Can you leave this beautiful baby?”
“He won’t ask me to leave. He knows J.D. needs me.”
“Maybe not now; but when the boy is weaned, when the year is up, will you be able to go back to your ranch – alone?”
Hattie swallowed, involuntarily reaching over the side of the crib to grasp the small hand, the one that had patted her so lovingly while she cried.
In his sleep, J.D. clamped on her fingers and it might as well have been her heart.
Hattie raised her glance toward the preacher and saw Jackson standing in the doorway, staring at her.
“Excuse us pastor, we need to talk.”
The pastor stepped to the door, and Jackson pulled it closed behind him.
Hattie raised her head. “I know you don’t want to marry me. I don’t want to trap you. If you were there long enough, you know I’m used to being ‘a woman-of-ill-repute.’ It’s not your responsibility to salvage my reputation.”
Jackson stared at the girl, eyes glittery from hurt pride. She was so young, so fierce. Holding her gaze, he crossed the room to stand in front of her.
“Shh. It wasn’t you I wanted to reject. I just don’t appreciate having someone tell me I have to do anything.”
She looked confused. “I don’t know what to say?”
“Hattie, I don’t know what the answer should be, but I know everything the pastor said is true.” He stepped even closer, put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up. “Donna made me promise to find someone. I know it sound
s strange, but sometimes I imagine what she would say, as though she’s still here.”
Hattie nodded, “Yes, sometimes I feel her, sense what she wants me to do.”
“She told me to go get you, to save J.D.”
Hattie was having trouble swallowing. “Marriage is forever, it requires love. I don’t know if loving the same little boy is enough for forever.”
“I don’t want a marriage in name only, Hattie. If you say yes, I’m moving back into my bed.”
She backed up, her eyes suddenly filling with terror.
He stepped closer. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, ever.”
She tried to breathe, but couldn’t find the room.
He held out his hand. “Trust me, Hattie. Marry me and J.D.”
She was afraid, but she could feel a pair of hands pushing her forward. She gave him a quivery smile. Then extended her hand to take his and let herself be pulled toward the closed door.
When they came out, Hattie was surprised to see their three visitors seated at the table. James was pouring tea for them and Cliff was waiting at the door. Apparently there would be no need to put away leftovers.
James came over, drying his hands. “Cliff and I will be witnesses. I’ll be mighty proud, to act in your father’s stead and give you away, Miss Harriett.”
For just a moment, Hattie thought of protesting but at his hopeful smile she nodded and curtsied. Everyone she knew was married in church, her parents had been married there. It had been a long time since she had thought of a church wedding for herself. But she wondered if one in a house would be considered legal by people like the Dawsons. She giggled nervously. No matter what they did, the Dawsons would not accept her as Jackson’s new wife.
Jackson stood stiff and straight, nervously he released her hand, touched her elbow, and then touched her hand again.
Of course he had married Donna in church. She remembered the elaborate ceremony, everyone in town present to watch the bride in her beautiful bustled white satin gown and the handsome rancher in his new black suit.
