by J. R. Biery
Now he was dusty from working on the chicken coop and porch, and unlike her, he hadn’t changed. But she reminded herself, he had held his nearly naked son in that dusty outfit. He had swept her into his arms and onto his lap to comfort her when she cried. What did it matter if she wore her mourning black and he was in dusty work clothes? Their witnesses, the deacons and the cowhands, could testify to the marriage. The preacher would say the usual words, the same as he would in church.
Perhaps the nerves knotting in her stomach would disappear if she had a veil, or wore a white dress. Would her hands feel like ice if she had a woman to fix her hair, friends to giggle and joke with while she waited to walk down an aisle? Would her heart be happier if there were music and dancing and a big feast waiting to celebrate the event?
No. A woman with no reputation did not deserve a white dress, veil or a church wedding. She should be grateful that she would have a husband, even if he was being forced into it. They had been accused of doing things neither of them had done. What had he said, ‘he didn’t want to be told he had to do something?’
She had no family or friends to celebrate with anyway. She had had parents who loved her. Both were dead. This tall man and his son, they would be her family from this day forward. For the first time, she felt joy at the prospect.
James Boyd walked over toward her and she gratefully hooked her arm over his elbow. One of the deacons moved the Bible table in front of the fireplace and the preacher walked behind it.
Cliff said, “I guess I’m the best man, boss.”
Jackson looked as at sea as she felt, but he let the red-headed cowboy herd him over toward the fireplace to stand to the left of the preacher. The deacons rose and stood at the right.
James leaned toward her and whispered, “Guess they’re the bridesmaids. “
Hattie giggled again, trying to control her shaking knees. She gripped his arm tighter. There would be no organ music to tell them when to begin.
James placed a hand on her arm, giving her a pat, just as they heard a waking cry from J.D. “Let’s get down there, then I’ll go get the baby.”
Somehow she managed to walk to her place in front of the preacher and the tall slender oak table on which rested the Harper’s family Bible. She shivered, icy fear sweeping down her spine.
Jackson turned woodenly to face her. If only he would look directly at her, give her a smile. Was he remembering his first wedding, his perfect marriage to Donna? There was still time. She could break and run, go back to the family ranch, alone.
Suddenly she heard someone humming. She and Jackson glanced back to watch James Boyd walking down the makeshift aisle, humming, then singing the wedding march to the fussing baby. As he sang the baby quieted, then raised his hands to smile, showing the tiny white tooth.
Jackson stepped closer and took her arm, smiling down at her as she smiled up at him.
The preacher called them back to the moment as he asked. “Do you Jackson Harper take this woman, to love, honor, and protect, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?”
She could only stare up in disbelief when he loudly said, “I do.”
“Harriett Stoddard do you take this man, to love, honor and obey, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?”
All she could feel was joy, deep, and compelling as she softly whispered, “I do.”
“I now pronounce you man and wife. Whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder. Amen.”
“Amen,” echoed the deacons, “amen” echoed the cowhands. Then outside, she heard yet another wave of “Amens.”
J.D.’s squeal was the final amen.
She was married. She stared at Jackson, holding her breath, waiting for a ring, a kiss, another word to release her.
He must have felt the same way. Slowly he reached out, lifted one hand, then the other and pulled her closer.
Her head felt light as he leaned closer. As soon as she felt his lips on hers her knees buckled, and she fainted.
Jackson felt her crumpling and swung her into his arms.
James Boyd was holding J.D., his gown bunched around his waist, his face red in complaint. “That’s some kiss, make a gal swoon.”
“Water, somebody bring cold water to her room,” Jackson barked.
He laid her on the bed, then lifted one of her feet, grabbing a buttonhook to undo the tightly buttoned shoe, then repeated it on the other.
James Boyd was in the room, still holding the crying baby.
Jackson removed her shoes, and then moved to unbutton the stiff high collar, stopping halfway down and unbuttoning each cuff. Without hesitation, he lifted beneath her and unhooked the snug band of her skirt.
“That boy is pretty unhappy,” James said.
“He’ll keep a minute.” Jackson said as he tugged the blouse free of the skirt and then unbuttoned the bottom half, making sure it still covered her front.
James came on in the room, putting the baby in the crib, setting the pitcher down. “I’d think you could wait for that at least until after the preacher and deacons are gone.”
“Go to hell. You know it’s not that. Did you see her eat anything today? Hand me a damp cloth and pour some water in her glass.”
James scratched his chin, “No, nary a bite, and that’s a fact. You think that’s all that ails her?”
“That, the heat, and marrying on command. She was upset about her pony before they even showed up and then she had to go through all this.”
He laid the damp cloth on her forehead and reached over to rub the downy hair on the baby’s head to comfort him too. “See if you can find something for her to eat. See the preacher off and put some beans on for supper.” He pulled the crying baby up into his arms, then kissed him and put him back in the crib. The boy stared at him, then began to whimper. “I’ve got these two.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and gently washed at her flushed face. Hattie’s eyes flew open, dark with shock and confusion. She started to sit up and Jackson moved between her and the curious cook.
“Tell Pastor Goodwin and the deacons we’ll see them Sunday. Put Cliff in charge of the men and get them back to work. My wife needs a rest.”
“Yes, sir, boss.”
“Oh, Boyd.”
“Yes, boss…”
“Knock before you bring in the food.”
The cook looked confused, then grinned and backed out the door.
Hattie’s eyes were huge and dark blue. Jackson smiled at her, and then held the glass of water for her to drink. Hattie would have taken it, but he had a firm grip on it. She swallowed, wondering how she’d gotten here. He took a moment and lifted her into a sitting position, propping both pillows behind her before releasing the glass into her hands. While she watched in confusion, he walked over and used the damp rag to clean and change the smelly baby, leaving him bare and hanging onto the sides of the crib.
He held the dirty diaper and gown up and she pointed to the covered pail beside the dresser.
“Why did you tell James to knock?” she asked, her voice squeaking.
He grinned at her mischievously, then peeled down one sock, then the other. When she gasped and leaned forward to protest he stripped off the black striped blouse and hung it over the bed post, then tugged her skirt off and hung it on the foot post.
Hattie curved into a crouch, folding her arms in front of her body, tucking her bare feet beneath the ruffles of her petticoat. “I thought you promised not to …,”she couldn’t find breath enough to say more.
A breeze fluttered the curtains, dispelling a little of the heat. He lifted the naked boy over the rails and handed him to her.
“Best feed him before James brings you your dinner.” He walked to the door, staring at her as he walked. “I’m going to check to make sure everyone is gone and the men are back at work. See you later, Mrs. Harper.”
Hattie leaned back against the pillows as soon as the door closed. She raised back up, and removed the hairpins h
olding the hard bun and shook her hair loose. J.D. crowed in delight, climbing against her. She had to admit the breeze felt good on her bare arms. The baby curved against her, as delighted by her bare skin as she was in his.
“Okay, young master Harper, just because you and Mr. Harper have some strange notions about proper attire.” She kissed all along the soft curve of his back and J.D. laughed and made little kissing bites along her shoulder.
She felt tears sting her eyes, the joy was so blinding and strong. “Son, my son, I love you so much, till death do us part. I know your mother Donna, still loves you. I feel her here all around. But now I can love you and your daddy the same way, without fear.” She kissed his cheek, nuzzling him as he was nuzzling her, and then fed him.
<><><>
Jackson was disappointed to find the preacher still in the sitting room, his hand on the open Bible.
“Is Mrs. Harper all right?”
Jackson nodded, “She just didn’t get around to eating today, got a little light headed.”
“I took the liberty of opening to the family page here. I thought you might like me to sign it, too.”
Jackson stared at the gold trimmed page, with its list for marriages, births and deaths. Beneath his parents’ names, with their wedding date, were his and Donna’s names and the date of their marriage.
He noted that all the entries for his parents, the birth of their children, their deaths were complete. He felt a wave of sadness when he realized it was true for Donna as well, date of marriage, birth of child, and death. Would he always feel a little guilty that it wasn’t over for him?
Seriously he took the pen the preacher offered, filled in names and date of marriage, and then turned it for the preacher’s signature. Now, maybe the man would leave without another sermon.
His pastor didn’t disappoint him. “I know you may still feel resentful, the decision being taken from you. But a man needs a wife and a boy needs a mother.”
Jackson stared at him hard. “Don’t you have other people you can visit and set straight?”
The pastor stared at him. “It’s customary for the groom to offer a token, beyond gratitude, to the man who marries him.”
Jackson laughed. “Well, when a man asks for a preacher, maybe so. But you could walk around meddling all over town, working up business. No, I figure your reward is in the satisfaction of doing a good deed. I’ll let you know when I feel it’s worthy of some other token.”
The pastor eyed him coldly, then put his hat on his head and stormed out.
James stood at the dining table with a plate of scrambled eggs and a small plate of potato salad. “Them church vultures didn’t ask for no invite to supper neither, hardly left a bite for your new missus.”
“Thanks, James, I’ll carry it in. Do we have any milk left?”
“Sure, sure.”
A minute later Jackson turned the knob and smiled as he held the food and stared at the lovely vision inside. Hattie was half-asleep, the breeze blowing the lace curtains on both windows, stirring her loose blonde hair around her shoulders. She had one brown hand curved under the baby’s bare bottom; an arm curved around his back holding him to her beautiful naked breast, the skin snow white against his rosy cheeks. Her small white feet and slender ankles were brazenly bare to his gaze, as were her firm white arms and shoulders.
Whenever he watched her working, he was always aware of how slim and graceful she was yet how supple and strong. But sprawled, half asleep with the baby at her breast, he realized how perfectly formed she was and how desirable.
Quietly he crossed the room and set the plate and glass of milk on the dresser. Before when he had caught glimpses of her feeding the baby she had blushed and hurriedly hidden herself. Now he was aware of her watching him through lowered lashes. Shocked, he watched as she flung an arm above her head on the pillow, the white of her underarm vivid against the brown of her burnished face. He felt a heavy wave of desire.
Drawn irresistibly, he sank down on the edge of the bed, leaned forward kissing first the underside of her arm and as she turned to face him, he leaned down more and softly kissed her mouth, breathing deeply to control the urge to kiss her deeper. Using all his control, he raised up and smiled at her.
“You need to eat. I’ll see you both later,” but before he could rise she shocked him more.
Using the white arm he had just kissed, she reached up a brown hand and pulled his face back down. “Thank you.” Very softly she kissed his cheek and leaned her forehead against his.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
All afternoon as he supervised the men and helped finish the chicken coop, he remembered her gentle touch and soft kiss. He wondered why she thanked him. The food, cleaning the baby, the wedding, the kiss? The possibilities in each answer tormented him.
At dusk of the hot day, the men walked on down to the creek and bathed in the deep pool, splashing and joking. All gave him a hard time about the night stretching before him. He let it go on a few minutes before raising a hand.
“It’s not that kind of night. Preacher kind of got ahead of his place and we are married, but we’ve got a lot of things to work through before the marriage part really gets started. Not that it’s any of your business – but I don’t want you teasing my wife with all this nonsense, the way you’ve been riding me.”
Cliff stared at him, and then looked as disappointed as Jackson felt. “Real sorry it ain’t boss, real sorry. She’s a sweet, pretty girl. Never did believe that nonsense we heard in town. Never did.”
All the men nodded and Jackson went cold. It went without saying that a woman who’d had a baby wasn’t an inexperienced virgin. But hadn’t he believed the gossip when he heard it? Harriet Stoddard wouldn’t be the first woman known to have fancied the boys and enjoyed sex too much, only to end up in disgrace. Thelma’s place was full of good-time girls.
Even his Donna hadn’t been a virgin. She was plain spoken and clear about what she wanted from him. But when she became pregnant and they’d married, they found ways to make it work. He had been proud of his wife and they had a loving relationship and a happy home together.
He wanted the same with Hattie. Then he shook his head. He would need to know, to understand before they could build a relationship. For now, it was enough to give her the protection of his name and provide J.D. with more than breast milk. Hattie loved that boy and he loved her. She was the only mother he knew. When he started talking, he wanted J.D. to call her momma. He didn’t doubt she loved the child and he loved her in return. What he wasn’t sure of, was if there was room in her heart for him? Would her fear of men ever allow them any relationship more than what they had now?
He was one of the last to leave the pool, waiting until the cool water cooled down the ardor he felt every time he imagined sharing her bed. Dressed, he followed the men to the house, watched as the chickens fussed their way into the coop, establishing pecking order and choosing roosts. Hattie would love it when she saw it tomorrow. He felt surprised at how much it mattered to him, what his new wife thought or wanted.
<><><>
Hattie and J.D. dozed through the warm afternoon until his accident woke them. She quickly diapered the baby and put him in the crib while she drank the remaining water in the pitcher, and then asked James to bring her a pail of water. The air coming through the windows was cold and she removed the window jambs to close both windows. The trouble with Texas nights was the drop in temperature by as much as twenty degrees.
When the water came, she lit the lamp, quickly stripped and took a sponge bath by using a bar of soap and basin of the cold water. It was hard not to miss Rubye and the luxury of a hot tub bath in the pantry. By the time she finished, she could hear the men entering the dining room. Quickly dressing in a gown and wrapper, she moved the dirty clothes and bedding to the corner of the room. Gently she slipped a soft gown on the still sleepy baby, and made up the bed in clean sheets and quilt.
It was Jackson who brought her a bowl of chili, ta
king the restless and playful J.D. out with him. She could hear the men, laughing and playing with him as they fed him crumbled cornmeal in a glass of buttermilk. She had tried it once before, and he had made such a terrible face, she laughed to think of it and hadn’t tried it again. Apparently, everyone wanted to see the face for themselves and from the sound of things, J.D. was eating the mess this time.
Hattie sat at the dresser, braiding her hair and worrying her lower lip. Despite their agreement, would Jackson wait to claim his rights? She could hear the words from this morning, he intended to return to his bed once they wed. Nervously she paced the room, full of pent up energy. Finally, she sat on the edge of the bed, updating her diary on J.D.’s progress. She included the new tooth, the cowboys playing with him and his eating cornmeal mush. She hesitated, and then added the fact that Jackson and she were married; now she was his mother.
She put the diary and pen up and picked up Dr. Padgett’s book, eager to discover how old J.D. would be when he could call her momma. Pulling back the quilt and sheets, she slid into the bed, propped up with the pillow to read.
By the time Jackson and the boy entered, she had discarded the book and was making mental lists of chores for the next day. On the list was laundry, it had been two days since she had last done laundry and it was piling up. With a baby, one needed to wash something every day. At the end of the list was to try and make a cowboy doll. She had seen a beautiful china doll last week at the Thompson’s store, with a lovely dress and old-fashioned pantalets. She wanted to make a doll for a little boy, with a lace-up vest and pull-on pants.
“Who’s that, J.D.? Is that Momma?”
At the words Hattie held out her arms to the baby, tears pooling in her eyes. Donna was his momma, but now she was his momma too. Instead of crying she managed to say, “He won’t be able to say it for another five or six months.”
She gave the excited baby a big hug, and then sat him back against the pillows. He promptly rolled over and laughing she sat him back up. “Yeah, you can roll over, can’t you Jackie.” He cooed back at her and Hattie laughed and gave him a kiss.
