The Milch Bride

by J. R. Biery

  Jackson shook his head. “Well, I’ve seen it all.”

  Happy at the light sound of his voice, Hattie laughed. “Well, I haven’t. We need to see this fantastic chicken coop, don’t we Jackie?” She leaned to kiss the bruised spot. “Poor little noggin.” J.D. lifted a hand to capture her face and she nibbled at his thumb as they walked.

  When Jackson set down the basket, she passed him the baby. With the boy held in the crook of his arm, he managed to loop an arm around her waist and tug her forward. He relaxed when she didn’t pull away or struggle to remove his arm. Not willing to tempt fate, he let the arm slip, but captured her hand as he did so.

  He noticed her glance at the washtub and the garden wistfully as they walked past. “I’ll help with that when we get back.”

  Once again, Hattie felt the warmth of their connection. She smiled up at him.

  At the barn, she started for feed but he stopped her. “Taken care of when we turned them out and collected eggs.”

  Another fleeting smile, then the dazzling one he’d been hoping for when she saw the finished coop.

  It rose like a wing against the regular barn. She was surprised to see the stack of the roof panels against the barn. At her puzzled look, Jackson handed her back the baby.

  “Let me show you.” He lifted and slipped a panel in place between the upright poles. “Comes a blow or blizzard, we can close it all in. We figured why rebuild it when its winter.”

  “Clever,” she nodded, “very clever, Mr. Harper.”

  Smiling, he gave her a mock bow, delighting J.D. with the quick motion.

  She laughed and suddenly the worry from the morning was gone. If he could just keep her happy, the world would be a fine place.

  “If you had a ramp up to the first plank, then they could run up and go to roost at night.”

  “We debated it, but Cliff said foxes or coyotes might follow them in and destroy the flock. Better if someone is around at night to close the door.”

  She shrugged, I’m sure he’s right. “It’s wonderful, thank you.”

  “You’ll need to thank the hands, Cliff and Tony worked really hard on it.” He stared at her, read the gratitude in her eyes. He wanted to fall into the sweet blue clarity of her gaze. Slowly he moved closer and leaned down to kiss her softly. Hattie surprised them both by leaning in and kissing him back. J.D. squirmed between them and they pulled apart.

  “Hey, boss.”

  Surprised, Jackson turned to see James standing at the barn door.

  “What was the decision?”

  Hattie looked up at Jackson in confusion. He shook his head. “I came out to ask you a couple of questions. Do you think you can handle the meals, if James drives into town?”

  “I’ll try.”

  James shook his head and disappeared inside.

  She stared up at Jackson, regretting the interruption by the older cowhand. “What was the other question?” Her voice quavered as she focused on his mouth, remembering how amazingly soft and warm his lips had felt.

  Jackson put out a hand to touch her shoulder and J.D. reached out a small hand to touch his face. At the baby’s squeal of delight, Hattie raised a hand to feel his stubbly jaw. She raised her eyebrows at him.

  “I was chased out before I shaved. I’ll go back and do it.”

  “I’m sorry, but I was afraid you were going to take advantage of the situation.”

  “No, ma’am. I’m waiting on your permission.”

  “Then why were you ….” She blushed so prettily, he wished they were back in the bedroom.

  “Aroused?” he growled the word and she turned her back on him, ready to walk back to the house. Quickly he stepped closer, an arm around her waist, clutching J.D.’s legs gently as he whispered near her ear. “You keep me this way. Looking at you, hearing you talk, smelling you,” he growled.

  He waited for her protest of terror, but all he felt was the quiver of her as she inhaled quickly against his body.

  James emerged from the barn, riding in the buckboard behind a pair of big red horses. “I have your missus’ list. Did you think of anything else you need?”

  “Yeah. I need a nightshirt, maybe a couple of pairs of summer drawers.”

  James Boyd whistled, blushed red to his ears, and snapped the buckboard into motion.

  Hattie pushed out of his arms and stomped back to the kitchen, J.D. craning his neck to watch his laughing daddy.

  <><><>

  While Hattie put the elk shoulder in the oven to roast, Jackson emptied the wash tubs on the garden and stacked the tubs on the end of the porch. Next he grabbed the hammer and nails and picked up the sawed rails to get to work.

  When Hattie came out, ready to hoe the garden, she deposited J.D. back in the porch cradle, setting it to rocking with the sleepy baby drowsing beneath a clean diaper for shade.

  She stared at him, noting his shirt was already damp from the heat. Stepping down, she examined the corner of the porch, where the closely spaced rails were tacked into place to close in the lower half. “I didn’t expect it to be done instantly.”

  He put down the hammer and straightened. “It’s not nailed or screened, but at least you won’t have to rely on a dog to let him down on it.”

  “Sam was doing a good job,” but even as she spoke, J.D. awoke and tried to pull up on the side of the cradle, tilting it to one side. Before he could spill out they both raced to catch him. Jackson swung the baby up, crying “whoa, boy.” And Hattie wrapped an arm around the baby and him. He stared down at her smiling face for the second time in an hour. Again he felt the urge to kiss her but knew if he did he would only push for more so he shook his head to clear it. “Do you think it will be all right if I put him down in the corner that’s fenced?”

  “You can if Sam can block the open end.” She spread the quilt again and laid the happy baby on his back. In a minute he was ready to roll over and Jackson slapped his thigh and called “Sam.” The big yellow dog was instantly back on the job.

  An hour later, she set the washed basket full of cucumbers and green tomatoes, along with one big cabbage and a pail of water on top of the step. She then opened the new gate so she could step up onto the porch and slide the basket forward. She stared down at the sleeping baby, “He’s asleep?”

  “Yeah,” he finished pounding the last rail and grinned at her. “He watched a while, but I guess it was too boring. As soon as Sam yawned and plopped over J.D. yawned and went back to sleep.”

  “But you’ve been hammering, look at all you’ve done.”

  She sank into the rocker, staring around at the enclosed porch. “Is it finished?”

  “Finished.” He wiped his face and neck with a hankie from his back pocket. “I’m planning to ride out to your old ranch to look around. Is there anything you want me to look for? Anything you’ve been missing?”

  She clapped her hands. “Yes, I need crocks, the little one for pickles and the large one to make sauerkraut. James is supposed to be bringing me jars, pickling spice, and two gallons of vinegar, but I like sour pickles too and they require the crock.”

  He stared at her. “Is there anything you can’t make or cook?”

  She blushed at the complement and laughed. “Cake. Rubye was teaching me, but I’m still not sure I can. And sewing, embroidery, all the beautiful things your Donna made for Jackie. I can’t do any of that.”

  “You made his pretty pony.”

  She smiled sadly. “I felt like Donna was there, you know, helping me have the courage to try it.”

  He nodded, “Yeah, I’m not a carpenter, but I felt her say, Jackson go on, try it.”

  Hattie shivered despite the heat and he felt the same chill sweep through him.

  “I still feel sad, that she was robbed of all this, his coos and laughs and little bumps,” she said.

  “I think she’s watching over him. That’s why we feel her so much.” The words left his mouth dry. He lifted the pail and drank the cold water from the dripping bucket. “We
ll, I’ve got to go. Tony is staying close by. You need him, just give a shout and he’ll come running.”

  She looked around, but didn’t see any sign of the young hand. She shivered again. “You think the rustlers might show up? I thought they were gone.”

  “I’d rather be too careful, then sorry. Stay close until I’m back. Keep a gun close.”

  She had just finished moving the cradle and vegetables inside when he rode up beside her. “You sure that’s all you want, two crocks?”

  “No, I need momma’s meat mill. It should be under the floor in the kitchen, too. I could make some sausage if you brought it.”

  “Sausage? I don’t see any hogs here. Besides it’s the wrong time of year.”

  “Dad and I made sausage out of deer, antelope, whatever he shot. Ground well and seasoned right, it’s a nice change from roast or stewed meat. I could have used more of the elk, if I’d saved the gut and ground the scrap meat for sausage. But I can use some of what’s left to make mincemeat if I have my mill.”

  “All right, I’ll look for it.”

  She opened the gate and stood on the top step. Before she would never have had the courage, but now she dared, reaching out to him as she asked. “Why are you going?”

  “They were hiding there before. Maybe they went back.”

  Then she moved into him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. “If you think they’re there, don’t go alone. It’s too dangerous.”

  He smiled, gave her a tight hug back and a light kiss on the forehead. “I’ll pick up one of the men along the way. Stay inside with the baby. Be careful.” It almost slipped out, I love you too, but he firmly removed her arms and gently pushed her back onto the porch before he let the emotion swelling in his chest burst out.

  She stood still as she watched him ride away. Why didn’t she tell him what she felt? Grabbing up Jackie, she hurried into the house, closing the door behind her. As soon as she put the baby down, he started crying. Several minutes later she had him changed and happily playing with his toys while she made yeast rolls, her father’s pistol on the counter beside her.

  Minutes later, she was busy shredding cabbage for coleslaw. She pushed washed greens in a pot to wilt down. Finally she poured molasses into a small pan, added the sliced tomatoes and peppers and some ground cayenne and added a generous splash of cider vinegar. She stirred it, adding black pepper and paprika, tasting until it was right, then left it over the other back-eye to finish stewing down into a barbecue sauce.

  Since Jackie was still playing quietly, she went to the bedroom for her cloth and scissors, this time using the flour-sack gown and another of her homemade diapers, she cut a pattern for a little cowboy. Working quickly and with far more confidence then she had on the pony, she had him sewn and stuffed before the baby woke. She cleared the scraps and put everything away before rescuing the hungry baby.

  She had him cared for and playing with his toes on the folded quilt when the men began to arrive for supper. The table was set with the spicy meat, pulled and seasoned in a big bowl. The rolls were split and the slaw lightly seasoned. Fresh tomatoes were sliced on a big plate and there was a bowl of sliced cucumbers in vinegar. The men drank cold water and hot coffee, and ate quickly, the fresh greens disappearing first. No matter how hungry, they would eat with a mind to the ones still to eat, and leave enough for the other men. But something rare, like the greens, was always first come, first served.

  Hattie waited on table, missing the conversation that flowed so easily when Jackson and James Boyd were present. Mostly, she missed Rubye. Even though they had seldom gotten along, she was always a little frightened and edgy being in the house alone with only men.

  As soon as she could, she moved to the settee and took J.D. onto her lap, prancing the pony for him. As quickly and almost as quietly as they arrived, the men rose to leave, each stopping to thank her for the great meal. Clearing the table, she covered all the remaining food with a cloth, then carried plates to the kitchen to wash. The house was silent, the baby playing with his pony and carved toys.

  Hattie shook her head. When would the fear go away? She could feel her hands shake as she stacked the dirty plates. She knew these men; they were all respectful to her and had been nothing but kind. But just being in the house alone with them made her heart beat faster, her knees quake with fear. Even Jackson, her own husband, whom she respected and felt far more for, had filled her with terror this morning in bed.

  Yet, outside, in the morning sun, when he’d held his son and smiled at her, her heart had beat with joy, not fear. He was so kind to her, why couldn’t she be a real wife to him? Finished, she sat and talked to J.D. while she went back to work on the doll.

  She made loops around her hand with reddish orange yarn. Stopping, she stitched the middle of the loops onto the doll’s head. The double row of stitches formed the part in his hair and she added a row of stitches along the bottom of each strand to keep his hair combed, and then clipped the ends of the loops to leave the doll with a mop of red hair. She went to the room for ink and pen, then as carefully as possible, drew eyes, nose and a smiling mouth on the doll. Not satisfied with the mouth, she made a smaller series of loops and tacked on a mustache, the ends caught with thread and stitched down to give him a funny, red handlebar mustache.

  She shook the doll, laughing at the silly face and hair. J. D. reached for it and she held him lower for the baby to look at closer. When he squealed in delight, she handed him the doll. Next she would have to make the little naked cowboy some clothes. She wondered if she could make a pair of boots and vest from the rabbit skin, still tacked to the rail on the porch.

  As soon as she stepped out onto the porch, she saw the wagon headed toward the house. She started to run inside, but then recognized James. For the first time since Jackson left, she relaxed.

  That was a mistake; the old cowboy dismounted and almost fell over the gate. Hattie managed to catch the bottle of vinegar but Boyd let out a string of curse words. The air still blue, he unloaded the buckboard, then drove it to the barn to unhitch the horses.

  Hattie wondered if he was most upset about the gate or if he was mad for other reasons. Once he was inside, she invited him to eat while she put things away.

  “Done took supper with Miss White, over at the Dawson’s. Where’s the boss?”

  The nervousness that had shadowed her all day returned. “He rode out to our ranch this afternoon, promised to take another hand with him. Cliff and Hank haven’t come in to eat either.”

  “Cliff will be gone a couple of days. He had to go into Waco.”

  She smiled sadly, shaking her head. “How is Rubye doing?”

  “Ha, we ate in the kitchen, since she’s just help. The Dawsons set a little higher than other people.”

  Hattie knew without asking what Rubye would think of that. While they talked, James carried the dry goods inside the pantry, helped to store them. When J.D. sounded off about being abandoned, it was James who went back to pick him up.

  She carried out her mother’s spice jars to the table where she had left the spices in their small bags, stored the new spices, then carried the canning jars into the kitchen to wash and stand to drain.

  They heard horses in the yard and Hattie couldn’t hide her excitement. She ran, stood at the door and felt like crying when Jackson swung down and handed his reins to Hank. Brushing at her eyes, she stepped onto the shadowed porch. “You’re home safe,” she cried. Before she could move, he opened the porch gate and swept her into his arms. This time, in the dark, he kissed her and she clung to him, fighting back the tears that had shadowed her all afternoon.

  When he finally released her and they moved apart she whispered guiltily. “James is just back from town.”

  “Good, I’ve got a lot of questions for him.” He smiled down at her, his teeth flashing in the shadows. “Hattie, that’s the kind of welcome that makes a man glad to be married,” he whispered, his hand reaching out to stroke down her cheek and lift h
er chin so he could see her nervous smile.

  She reached up to grab his hand, confused by all the conflicting emotions sweeping through her and tugged him inside.

  James Boyd stood in the kitchen, holding an excited J.D. Jackson smiled and leaned over to kiss the baby who gave him an open-mouthed kiss in return. He held his new toy up for Jackson to kiss in turn.

  He looked at the funny red-headed doll and turned to grin at her.

  “It’s a cowboy for his pony. I need to make some clothes. I was going to try to use the rabbit skin for boots and a vest but James came and I haven’t had time.”

  James still held the bouncing baby, even though J.D. was trying to get his daddy to take him.

  “Sorry bucko, but I need to wash up first,” Jackson said, handing back the doll.

  While Jackson stepped into the kitchen to wash up, James said to Hattie. “There’s a bag of rags in the bunkhouse, old shirts and ripped jeans. I’ll bring them over in the morning before church. As for boots and a vest, you might have better luck sewing kid-leather then rabbit skin. There’s probably some of that in the barn in the leather patching kit, I’ll check for you.”

  “Thank you James. I guess he’s a silly looking doll, I just thought he might like having another toy.”

  “Naw, I think he could make a tough little cowboy, especially with that big mustache.”

  She blushed, glad again for the complement. Jackson smiled at the exchange, and then moved the cloths covering the food. “Looks good. Everybody else ate?”

  “Nearly an hour ago. James ate in town, but there should be enough left for you and Hank.”

  “You ate?” The question was pointed and Hattie realized she hadn’t and remembered what had happened the last time she skipped a meal. She shook her head and sank into a chair. Obediently she filled her plate, making a sandwich of the pulled elk and sliced tomatoes, taking a few cucumber slices to eat with it, leaving the rest of the coleslaw for them. James brought up milk and poured some for her, leaving the pitcher beside her just as Rubye would have done.