The Milch Bride

by J. R. Biery

  Hank came in and James sat down with the others, sipping at a cup of coffee.

  “Tastes mighty good for elk,” Hank said over a mouth full of the barbecue.

  “I’m sure it was better hot. I probably should have heated it up for you.”

  Jackson shook his head, turned to James. “How’s Rubye doing?”

  He repeated what he had told her before they arrived.

  “Any talk about the rustlers in town?”

  “None, and when I asked, people gave me the ‘what-you-talking-about’ look. Rubye said it was the same at the Dawsons. The one time she asked Mr. Dawson, he gave her a look like she was making up a fairy tale – like he didn’t know rustlers even existed.”

  Jackson took the news, chewed on it while he finished one sandwich and then made another. Hank did the same, spooning extra sauce over his meat before forking up the last ragged slices of tomato. Hattie wished she had made dessert. Tomorrow, maybe she would try baking a cake.

  “Does she want to come back?” Hattie asked.

  “You mean you’re willing for her to live here again?” James asked.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, you seem to have things under control. Handling it all alone, it looks like you even have time for sewing and canning.”

  Hattie smiled wearily. “You and Jackson did my chores before breakfast or I could barely have cooked for the men. Jackson helped me by emptying my wash water and helped me hang clothes. Then he fenced the porch and built the gate so I could make sure Jackie was safe while I worked outside, or I couldn’t have picked and washed the vegetables. He even helped watch the baby for me so I could cook supper. I need help.”

  “Rubye said some mighty mean things.”

  Hattie looked down at the table, and then raised her eyes. “She would have to apologize to both of us, of course. Do you think she would be willing to do that?”

  “It’s hard to say with Rubye. She can be mighty stiff-necked sometimes.”

  “Forget all that for now. I’ve got your crocks outside and that meat mill,” Jackson interrupted. “But I want a hot bath. So, let’s get some water on to boil. James, can you help?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The old cowhand rose and left to get the water and Hattie went back to the kitchen to fire up the stove again. When the tub was filled in the pantry, the men left the house so Hattie could take the first bath. Jackson stood on the porch, the sleeping baby cradled against him, his head on his broad shoulder, the new toy wedged between them, and stared down at James.

  “What was the reaction to the news that we’re married?” Jackson asked.

  “I didn’t get a chance to tell Rubye before the preacher dropped by and gave the Dawsons and her the low-down. You don’t want to know what they all had to say. Reckon he’ll have the word spread around town before church tomorrow.”

  “I was hoping that it would remove Rubye’s objections and she would want to come home. I knew the Dawsons would be upset.”

  “Upset, don’t begin to cover what Irene Dawson was. She started ranting like a crazy woman.”

  “I don’t want Hattie to have to put up with any more nonsense. We’re married, she’s my legal wife, and I won’t tolerate any slurs about my wife. Maybe I should wear a gun, maybe we should just stay home again this Sunday.”

  “Ain’t that what started all the uproar the first time? You want people to quit talking, you’ll need to face them down, both of you,” James said.

  Jackson nodded. “You’re right, as usual. Did you get a chance to talk to Rubye alone?”

  The way the older man hesitated, Jackson knew he was grateful to be on the dark porch too.

  Hank must have felt his discomfort. “I’m going to turn in guys, talk some more in the morning.”

  When he was gone, James finally answered. “She’s unhappy, mighty unhappy. She feels guilty for what she said, for leaping to conclusions and saying what she did. She felt even worse because she went to the preacher with her concerns.”

  “She ought to feel ashamed. She’s known me my whole life. Hell, after being with Hattie all this time, she had to know there was nothing secret going on.”

  Jackson wished they were inside, so he could see the other man’s eyes.

  “She could see what the rest of us could see. You two are crazy in love, and not just with that baby. Hell, your eyes never leave each other. Since you’re both too stupid to admit it, she pointed it out. You have to understand that she loved Donna, she wants to protect her interests.”

  “Donna is dead. J. D. and I are still alive. That baby is her interest and I’m doing my best to take care of him.”

  “Rubye broke down and cried, that’s how sorry she feels. After that preacher came into that house, telling how he married you guys, she’s afraid she’s the only reason it happened. The way he’s telling the story, he shamed you two into giving up your sinful ways and into getting married.”

  For several minutes, there was nothing but a blue cloud of profanity. Finally, a shaken Jackson stopped as J.D. woke, crying in terror. He reined in his temper, cooing and trying to soothe the baby, but J.D. was having none of it.

  James beat a retreat without any more arguments.

  <><><>

  She was nearly asleep in the cooling water when the door opened and Jackson burst in with a frantically crying J.D. She held her arms up, and Jackson lowered the squirming, squalling baby to her. “What’s wrong with him?” she gasped, half-rising from the tub.

  She felt beneath the gown, surprised to find a dry diaper. His kicking feet hit the water and as quickly as he had begun to cry, he gasped and stopped. She pulled the gown, carefully working his arms loose and handed the gown to the silent Jackson. Then she removed the diaper and slowly let the baby into the tub with her. Using his body to hide her own from Jackson’s gaze, she gently lapped the water over him. Jackie laughed and kicked playfully and for a minute they were all content to just enjoy the moment.

  Jackson knelt down, careful not to block the lamplight, and using soap and washcloth, gently soaped and washed the giggling baby. With Hattie’s help, he lathered and rinsed his hair. As the boy changed from playing to wanting to nurse, Hattie raised up, ready to get up.

  Instead, Jackson continued to soap the washcloth, and then gently and thoroughly, he soaped her back and tugged her left arm loose so he could soap it as well. He soaped and washed the arm cradling the baby, gently washing under her arm, the curve of her breast and down along her side. Hattie knew she should protest, but he made sure to cradle and raise the baby as he did it, and the rough gentleness of it made her relax even more. J.D. continued to suckle, even as Jackson lifted her hair, and proceeded to shampoo it. His firm fingers against her scalp, made Hattie lean her head back. He rinsed her hair with the bucket she had beside the tub. The splattering water only made J.D. stretch, but not give up his nipple.

  When he tugged her foot up to soap it she initially tugged it back, but he persisted, rubbing between each toe, and moving the washcloth up her leg, even under the water. She swallowed nervously, her eyes all pupil as she stared up at him. He carefully changed legs and repeated the process. When the baby finally relaxed, releasing the nipple, Jackson smiled, hung the washcloth on the side of the tub and lifted the warm, relaxed baby up, motioned her to stay still, and left the room with the baby.

  It was five minutes later before he returned. Hattie watched as the shirtless man grinned down at her. “It was wet,” he answered the unspoken question. He picked up the washcloth and she sighed, started to get up, but he stopped her, gently soaping her chest, fondling each breast lovingly, and then trailing the washcloth down beneath the water over her flat stomach. When she didn’t protest, he moved the cloth down between her legs and ended in the nest of curls. She gasped and stared up at him. Startled, she grabbed his arm but did not pull away, instead trembled in pleasure beneath his touch. Minutes later he rinsed her and lifted his sleepy wife, wrapping her in a
towel and carrying her to the bed.

  “My hair is wet,” she murmured.

  He sat her there on the edge of the bed, toweling her hair gently, grabbing her gown to pull her arms through, much as he had the baby minutes ago. She lolled under his rough touch, and once again he lifted her in order to tuck her beneath the covers. Leaving her damp hair in a dry towel wrapped around her head, he kissed her cheek and disappeared.

  Jackson scooped out a bucket of the lukewarm water, and carried it outside to dump. Then he lifted the hot water from the stove and carried it back to sit beside the tub. He worked quickly, stripping the rest of the way, making sure to wash thoroughly from head to toe, and enjoy the hot water shampoo and rinse. But fear of what might happen or not happen kept him in the water until it had grown cold. Toweling roughly he donned the silly looking nightshirt and short underpants that James had brought him from town. Thus armored, he entered the bedroom.

  Inside the dark room, he stood by the door, waiting until his eyes adjusted and listened to the even breathing of the baby and the woman who was now his wife. His own breathing quickened as he tiptoed to the bed, lifted the cover and slowly crawled inside. As he leaned back stiffly, he was surprised to see her eyes were open and she was staring at him.

  He waited for the terror of the previous night but she surprised him by smiling. He raised his arm and she accepted the invitation and moved against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

  Restlessly, she stirred against him, trying to nestle comfortably then pushing away. He waited, holding his breath. She sat up, pushing the towel away, revealing her tangled hair. He sat up too, reaching for the hairbrush on the dresser.

  “Here,” he whispered. “Turn around and let me brush it.” Like bathing her, these were intimacies he had never shared with Donna, but then Donna hadn’t been terrified of men. Gently he worked the brush through the long tangles, holding the hair above so it wouldn’t pull. Finally he had it all brushed, letting it fall in silken waves over her shoulders, working the hair with his fingers to brush it back from her face. She leaned her head back and sighed. Gently he leaned closer and kissed her cheek, nuzzling her ear.

  This time she turned into him and he was kissing her as he had dreamed of doing. Gently he rubbed her ear, cupped her neck, slipped his tongue into her softly opening mouth, and then dropped his hand to move in tantalizing strokes until her nipples peaked against the soft fabric. As she moaned, he took a minute to tug at one sleeve, then the other, removing the gown as gently as he had slipped her into it.

  As soon as he tugged the gown free, the moon escaped the cloud cover and bathed her in a shimmer of moonbeams. As lovingly as he had touched her, the light followed. It caught in her golden hair, caressed her strong cheekbones and big eyes, and slipped over the full, ripe breasts and slim body. Shyly, she tried to lift the covers and he pushed it away and stood beside the bed to stare at his moonlit goddess.

  Frantically he removed the starched nightshirt and short underpants, but Hattie put out a hand to stop him from climbing back in bed. Just as he had studied her, now she stared at him. Jackson straightened, stood motionless while he tried not to smile at the changes in her face, very aware of everywhere her eyes were focused on his body.

  Suddenly, even as he watched, her eyes pooled with tears, her lip trembled, and her body shook. Jackson sank onto the edge of the bed and gently folded her into his arms. “Shh,” he whispered, rocking her like the baby. Automatically Hattie turned to squirm into his lap, pressing her body close to him. Carefully, using all the control he had left, he pulled the covers between his body and hers.

  He kissed her cheeks, used the cover to wipe her nose and tear streaked cheeks. “Sweetheart, don’t cry. I promise we won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I’m sorry, I thought it was what you wanted, too. Here, we can put the nightclothes back on.”

  Hattie pulled away, sat up in bed and blew her nose on the hem of the gown he handed her. “You don’t understand. It is what I want. I’m just so afraid...” Her voice faded to a whisper.

  “Damn those worthless bastards. I promise I’ll make them pay.”

  She shook her head, the words coming out in gulps, “No, today I was so afraid they might be hiding at our ranch. I was so afraid something might happen to you. I couldn’t bear it if they hurt you.”

  Jackson shook out the sheet and coverlet, covering both of them, settling her back into his arms. He heard the baby whimper in his sleep and lowered his voice. “I was afraid for you too when I left you alone. I kept thinking of the finger on the mantle, the day you and Rubye chased them away.”

  Without realizing she was doing it, she kissed his throat and then his chin. “I kept thinking of the shootout, when you brought the cattle back. It seemed worse, the fear, since I thought it was finally over, that they’d been forced away. But when you left, I knew it wasn’t true and the fear came rushing back.”

  “You were afraid for me? Why?”

  She leaned back so she could see him, her head on his arm, suddenly aware of being completely naked in his arms. As her awareness grew, she felt his body’s answer.

  Smiling he leaned closer and whispered. “I love you too, Harriett Stoddard Harper.”

  She smiled and leaned in to kiss him. “I love you,” but her voice still held the tears of earlier.

  When he started to fold her body beneath him, again she put a hand on his shoulder in panic and he paused. Sighing, he collapsed back on the bed and stared up at the shadows of the ceiling. Rolling his head to stare at her he whispered. “Touch me Hattie, however and where ever you want.”

  Timidly she reached out, her hand following the smooth, hard muscle of his shoulder, down the corded arm to touch the inside of his wrist, then on to the callused palm, letting her own fingers tangle with his.

  Jackson breathed deeply, forcing himself to relax, even as she pulled her hand free of his fingers, gently traced a hand across his chest, boldly over the rows of muscles in his stomach, and then lower. He sucked in a deep breath, praying she would touch him where his throbbing need waited, but she trailed down along his hair roughened leg, feeling the strong muscles there. Bending forward, she traced down one leg, then up the other, letting her taunting fingers circle his nipple as he had done hers when he bathed her. But slowly as she did, she moved closer, her body brushing against him, her breathing growing more rapid.

  When she drew closer, her mouth pressed against his shoulder, her leg raised to rub against his, he dared to ask, “Tell me what to do, when and how you want me to touch you,” he growled. She reached out and lifted his hand to her breast. He teased her until she was moaning, then he raised his head to kiss her temple, her nose and then her mouth. enjoying her response. Her body glided over his as she moved into the kiss and he felt her dampness and knew he would die if she pulled away again. When she tugged his hand down her stomach, he knew exactly where she needed to be touched. Minutes later, he lifted her and slid inside her slick entrance, grateful for the power of her need, the urgency they both felt. In minutes, she was arching backward, then falling forward and he felt the release he had needed so long.

  They lay together, their body’s one, finally united as man and wife. He rolled to his side, holding her in place, so he could stare into her face. “Sweet Hattie, I love you. Did I hurt you darling?”

  She leaned back, feeling a huge swell of love at the tender question. She raised glowing eyes to smile at him. “Will it always be so wonderful?”

  He laughed, hugging her closer. “God willing, sweetheart, God willing.” When he drew back he arched an eyebrow and her eyes widened in surprise as he stirred inside her. “Want to try again?”

  They did, this time facing side-by-side, slower and gentler until she frantically wrapped her leg over his hip and grabbed his shoulder and he rolled her beneath him. This time she was so focused on the sensations inside that she merely gripped him with both her legs and hung on as the motions became more frenzied and they both cried ou
t in satisfaction. Moments later he rolled off and lay back with her head once again cradled on his shoulder.

  In the dark, they heard J.D. whimper and stir and both held their breath until he sighed back into sleep. Totally relaxed, they both slept.

  <><><>

  A knock on the door awakened all three. “You want grub and to get to church on time, you sleepy heads better get a move on.” James called through the door.

  Jackson lay back, listening to a couple of the hands laugh in the distance.

  He shook Hattie’s shoulder, rousing her and then he rose, rushing to shave and dress. Hattie tended the crying baby, changing, then feeding him, finally giving him a quick sponge bath and handing him off to Jackson to finish dressing. Frantically she brushed her long hair, blushing as she saw his eyes in the mirror and remembered the magic of his brushing her hair earlier. Intently, she twisted her hair, winding it and pinning it into place on top of her head in a snug bun. She bent to open the bottom drawer.

  “No, not today,” Jackson said, putting the fully dressed baby into the crib. He crossed to the wardrobe and opened the top drawer and removed silk underwear and stockings, then opened the other side and removed an extravagantly ruffled and lace covered blouse and skirt that had a matching bonnet which he removed from the top shelf.

  Hattie stared in dismay at the lovely garments, but Jackson was already on her side of the bed. “Wear this today, for me.”

  Helplessly, she trembled as he removed the wrapper, leaving her standing nude before him. She swallowed hard as his eyes lovingly swept over her until she blushed from head to toe. He held the pantaloons and she stepped in, feeling her legs buckle at the warm sweep of his hand as he pulled them up and tied the bow at her waist. When he dropped the silky chemise over her breasts they stood at attention. As he pulled her arms through the sleeves of the wonderful blouse she leaned into him, shocked at how much she wanted him. He leaned down, kissing her savagely, then gently pushed her back to quickly button the blouse. “Later,” he growled.