Foxy Statehood Hens and Murder Most Fowl

by Jackie King, Gui

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked. “I’m sure that Luther Bingham is about to make you a marriage offer. Wouldn’t you rather have a man with substance?”

  “You mean with money?” Harriet asked.

  Uncle Richard harrumphed and looked most uncomfortable. “Money is important in this world. You need to think of your welfare.”

  “I know dear Uncle, but I have set my cap for Mr. Garrett.” Her words sounded so silly to her own ears that Harriet almost cringed. But she knew that Uncle Richard would accept this explanation, and even be pleased with it. She didn’t want him to know about her marriage contract. It would be too embarrassing. Harriet felt relieved when Uncle Richard smiled and gave his blessing.

  * * *

  Radine clapped her hands excitedly when she heard the news. “I always thought Mr. Zachariah fancied you. I’ve caught him looking at you when he thought no one was watching. I just know that you’re going to be the happiest couple in Guthrie.”

  True affection for the girl warmed Harriet’s heart. Radine was so sweet that she had imagined that Mr. Garrett was attracted to her. Then she frowned. What would this sweet thing think of her if she knew that her fiancé and his brother had flipped a coin to see which one would marry her? That notion washed bleakly through Harriet, leaving her heart bereft. Radine might even think that such a thing was immoral. The girl had such high standards. Tears stung Harriet’s eyes.

  Zachariah would never feel about her the way a man should feel about his wife. There would be no gentle looks of love for her. She would never be truly cherished. Harriet bit her lip hard. She had made her own bed and now must live with the results. She took a deep breath and straightened her backbone.

  “Mr. Garrett has gone to ask the minister to come to the hotel tomorrow evening a little before seven,” Harriet said.

  “What sort of food do you think we should serve?” Radine asked and then babbled on with plans without waiting for an answer. “Let’s go to the kitchen and talk to Cook. We need to have fine eats. I’ll bake a cake for the occasion. I’m a real good baker if I do say so myself. I’ll make my mother’s silver white cake with lemon filling and boiled icing. Folks say it’s the best thing that they ever put into their mouths.”

  “I had envisioned a simple ceremony without serving food. But a cake would be nice if it isn’t too much trouble.” Harriet followed Radine into the kitchen. “I don’t think we’ll need a very big cake. There will just be you, Uncle Richard, Micah, the preacher and his wife, besides Zachariah and me, of course.”

  “Why Miss Harriet, you know that everyone in town will want to come and see you wed. I’m going to make enough cake so that anyone who wants to come to the wedding can have a piece. In fact, I think I’ll make several large cakes and we can include all of the hotel guests! Won’t that be nice? We’ll buy ice and make lemonade galore with that bushel of lemons you just bought. This is going to be a wonderful occasion.”

  The man everyone called Cook, was a chef who had traveled from Paris, France, only to miss the Land Run by four days. With his nest egg spent, he went to work at the Grand Hotel. Harriet was a pleasant boss, and the man seemed as delighted as Radine with the upcoming wedding. The two conspirators planned food for the reception, including a variety of fancy sandwiches, nuts and savories, marzipan and other candies, and of course, cakes. Harriet’s protests did no good at all. She worried about what Zachariah would think of the fuss, especially when Radine paid a boy a nickel to go about town and invite everyone he saw to the wedding.

  By evening Harriet was exhausted. The everyday chores of running the hotel, worrying about what she would wear tomorrow, and spending time in the kitchen to try and help with the extra work caused by the wedding, took its toll. Late that night she sat at the well-scrubbed kitchen table and poured milk into a cup of coffee.

  “I don’t know what I would do without you, Radine. I’ve only known you for eight days, but already I’m depending on you more and more. Thank God you came to me for a job.”

  And it was true, Radine ran the kitchen and tended the guests and Harriet dealt with the front desk, ordered supplies, and kept the books. Uncle Richard, busy with officiating and looking grand, hardly noticed the change. But both young women knew the hotel would be out of business in six months if they didn’t look after things.

  “I’m just happy to be here,” Radine said, adding a spoon of sugar to her own strong brew. “We was real lucky to find enough of this here sugar. I think what we bought was the last in town.”

  “I just hope everything goes well tomorrow. I really wish so many people weren’t coming. I’m not even sure what I’m going to wear.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I’m going to help you get ready and you’ll be the prettiest bride there ever was. You’re just having wedding jitters. Tomorrow will be wonderful. I’ll see to that.”

  “I’ll look like a skinny, ugly old maid who came to Oklahoma Territory to find a husband.” Harriet clapped a hand over her mouth. She had never meant to put voice to the fear that had tormented her all day.

  Radine set her cup down with such force that coffee sloshed onto the table. “You ain’t skinny. You’re willowy. And a great lady, too. Every man in town will be jealous of Mr. Zachariah. Why I’d love to be just like you, looks and everything, effen I could talk as fine. But that could never be.”

  “What do you mean, talk as fine?”

  “Speak like an educated lady. I know I say things wrong and mispronounce words. I sure wish I wasn’t so ignorant.”

  “But Radine, ignorance can be changed with learning. I could correct your grammar while we’re working together if you’d like me to, and if it wouldn’t hurt your feelings.”

  “Like you to? Oh Miss Harriet, that would be the answer to my prayer. And don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I’d know you’re just trying to help me.”

  “And one more thing, please quit calling me ‘Miss.’ Since I want you to be my maid of honor, you must call me Harriet.”

  “Maid of honor?” Radine’s mouth fell open with surprise, and then she burst into tears, pulling up her long apron skirt to hide her sobs.

  “You don’t have to be in the wedding if you don’t want to.” Harriet put an arm around the girl’s shoulder. “I thought you’d be pleased, I wouldn’t make you.”

  Radine looked up through her tears. “Oh, Miss… I mean Harriet. I want to. It would mean more to me than anything else. I would be so honored. I’m crying because I’m so happy.”

  * * *

  The next morning Harriet rose at dawn. This would be her last day as a spinster. Such a thing didn’t seem possible. To think that tonight she would sleep in the same bed with Zachariah Garrett! The thought both thrilled and terrified her. She washed her face in cold water to clear her head, grateful that she had such a busy day before her. There would be no time for either thought or worry.

  The day flew by until the clock chimed five. She frowned. She had meant to be bathing by now. And then, as if by magic, Radine appeared and told her that she had a bath ready in Harriet’s bedroom.

  Harriet was delighted to find that the water was not only hot but also scented with her own lavender toilet water. She stepped in, leaned back in the hip-tub and closed her eyes, relaxing until the water cooled. Then she washed quickly and slipped into her chemise. A light peck sounded at the door and Radine stuck her head into the room.

  “I’ve come to help you dress for your wedding. I was so excited last night that I could hardly sleep. I even forgot about Ida Mae’s murder for awhile.”

  Harriet bit her lip. She’d been so taken up with her own affairs that she hadn’t given that unfortunate woman any consideration. And Ida Mae had been one of Radine’s closest friends.

  “Oh, Radine, I’m so very sorry about that. How sad you must be. I’m afraid I haven’t given much thought to that awful event.”

  “Nor has anyone else, except me,” Radine said. “Even City Deputy Marshall Dani
els says that we’ll most likely never know who murdered her. But I don’t want you giving head room to such things tonight.”

  Harriet frowned. “You’re not thinking about trying to solve her murder yourself, are you?”

  Radine avoided her gaze. Then she grinned. “Not this evening for sure. Tonight I’m going to dress you for your wedding. We aren’t going to talk about anything that isn’t happy. Here now, let me lace you into your corset. You have a small waist and with a little elbow grease I can make it tiny.”

  Harriet held on to the bedpost while Radine pulled her ties until she could hardly breathe. But she didn’t mind. Tiny waists were stylish. What a relief it was to have help, she thought.

  “I don’t even know what I should wear.” Harriet nodded toward to her wardrobe and sighed. Radine opened the closet door and looked through the array of dresses.

  “This one,” Radine said. “I like this one.” She held up a lovely evening gown that Harriet had bought on impulse in New York but had never worn because the neckline seemed too daring.

  “I love that dress, too,” Harriet said softly. “But don’t you think the neckline is too low and the gown too fancy for Guthrie?”

  “Too fancy for your wedding? Of course not. It’s perfect.”

  With Radine’s help Harriet donned the antique gold silk gown that she had bought only for the pleasure of owning it. The burnished shade brought color to Harriet’s cheeks and drew attention to gold highlights in her brown hair. The skillful cut enhanced her small bosom and showed her ivory shoulders to great advantage. The dress nipped in at her tiny waist, then flared into a graceful sweep of rich-looking material to form the full skirt. To Harriet’s delight she no longer looked skinny, not even to herself. In this dress she was indeed willowy.

  “You’re beautiful!” Radine exclaimed after she stepped back and perused her friend.

  “Oh Radine, you’ve done wonders, but I do wish that I had one pretty feature.”

  “But you do. You just can’t see yourself as you really are. The only time you look into a mirror is to criticize yourself. You can’t see yourself when you’re talking to others, all excited, with your green eyes flashing fire and the color high in your cheeks. And your smile! I swear that it lights up the world.”

  Harriet hugged Radine. “You’re so good to me. You’re the only real friend that I’ve ever had. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She was so close to tears that she pulled away, straightened her back, and forced a smile. “I appreciate you overlooking my homeliness.”

  “You’re not homely. Mr. Zachariah loves you and I know he’ll think you’re lovely.” Radine sounded almost angry and Harriet smiled indulgently at her friend, even though she didn’t believe her words.

  “Now for some pretty earbobs.” Radine looked into Harriet’s jewelry box. “These here will be just perfect, and this necklace matches them.” She held up glittering topaz drops surrounded by tiny diamonds and an elegant matching necklace.

  “Those belonged to my mother,” Harriet said with a catch in her throat.

  “Then they’ll bring good luck. I believe that folks who love us watch from heaven. She’ll be proud to see you looking so lovely and so happy on your wedding day.”

  Harriet sighed. Useless to argue with Radine about beauty. The girl simply had her own ideas about prettiness. She gazed into the mirror once again. Still, she thought, I look better than I ever thought possible. I hope that Zachariah will be pleased.

  Chapter 4

  Violin music filled the hotel lobby and Radine stepped slowly past rows of gussied-up folk toward the Presbyterian minister. Like Cinderella she felt every bit a princess in her store bought jumper dress and lacy white waist. Fragrance wafting up from the small nosegay she carried almost made her dizzy.

  Everyone had come to the wedding and it was all her doing. Captain Cavanaugh, serving as Guthrie’s Army Provost Marshall, made an imposing figure sitting beside his well-dressed wife. Next to them were Banker Hightower and Mrs. Hightower. Every merchant in town, along with a wife, if he had one, had donned their best clothes and arrived early to get seats. Luther Bingham wore his most elegant suit, perhaps to show that he hadn’t minded losing Harriet to a workingman. Or so Radine figured.

  Farmers who lived close to town brought their wives to the event. Even that ornery Delmar Bassett sported a new pair of overalls, a dress shirt, and a suit coat. The hotel lobby was full to bursting, and folk were standing outside the front door, straining to catch a glimpse of the bride and groom.

  Radine decided that Zachariah Garrett looked mighty fine in a dark blue suit and a boiled shirt and collar. And his brother standing beside him looked every bit as good, if not better, at least in her estimation. She took her place next to the solemn looking Micah Garrett and breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t stumbled. Not once.

  When the fiddler changed to the wedding march, the rows of seated guests stood as the bride stepped into the room on the arm of her Uncle. No bride had ever looked lovelier Radine thought, tears stinging her eyes. The gold dress was just perfect for Harriet, and made her look right handsome. Radine wanted to turn to look at Mr. Zachariah’s face, but was afraid that it wouldn’t be proper.

  Tears fell from Radine’s eyes during the vows. She couldn’t help it, she was just so happy. When the preacher introduced the couple as Mr. and Mrs. Garrett, the audience clapped and shouted. A few of the men threw their hats into the air. At the reception Harriet spoke to the guests with such grace and charm that everyone seemed enchanted. Mr. Zachariah just had to be popping the buttons off of his starched shirt, Radine thought. The entire wedding was just grand. Exactly what she herself would like to have one happy day.

  Radine took charge of the refreshments even though Harriet had said for someone else to do the serving. Radine wanted to make sure that everything was just so, and figured she’d better do it herself. The food was served buffet style, and soon everyone was talking and laughing and having a big time. About eight thirty the cake was cut and served with the lemonade that she had made herself, since wine and liquor were illegal in Guthrie.

  * * *

  About nine o’clock Radine carried a bowl of scraps to Esther and found Micah standing by the pen studying the pig.

  “Why Mr. Garrett, I didn’t know you was out here,” Radine said, feeling happy for a reason she didn’t understand.

  “Evening, Miss Radine,” Micah said. “That was the finest wedding I ever saw. My new sister is one fine lady.”

  “That she is and I’m right happy for Mr. Zachariah. But if your brother don’t treat her right, he’ll answer to the business end of my skillet.” Radine smiled so Micah would know she was teasing.

  “I’ll tell him that and put a scare into the big galoot.” Micah grinned back. “I stepped out for a minute because parties make me feel downright unnecessary. Guess I’m more comfortable talking to pigs. Did you know this one was a Duroc?”

  “No sir, I thought she was Esther,” Radine snapped and was rewarded with Micah’s laugh which gave her the courage to keep talking to him. “I do declare. Can you believe this pig has such a fancy name?”

  “It’s not a good idea to name a pig,” Micah said, suddenly serious. “Sometimes it can cause problems, especially with a lady’s tender feelings.”

  “I tried to talk Harriet out of naming that critter but she had her mind set on it. She’s made a pet out of the animal, you know. I was afraid she’d put a pink silk ribbon around the pig’s neck and have her as a guest at the wedding.”

  Micah laughed. “I’d like to have seen that.” He looked shyly down at Radine. “You look as pretty as a bride yourself, Miss Radine.”

  The pleasure of the compliment caused heat to rise to her cheeks and then to flow through her whole body.

  “Why thank you kindly, Mr. Garrett. I was mighty proud to stand up with Harriet and your brother.” She paused for a minute and then said, “And you.” The last was spoken so softly she wondered if he heard
her words.

  “I’d be obliged if you’d call me Micah.”

  “I will if you want me to.”

  Radine was glad to see that he looked pleased. She didn’t miss noticing that color rose to his cheeks and that he seemed to suddenly need to study the cut of his boots.

  Silence, awkward as an unexpected belch, spread between them. Radine wished her brain hadn’t turned into mush and her tongue hadn’t turned into stone. If she didn’t say something soon, Micah would step back into the party.

  Micah glanced at the pig, shuffled his feet and then cleared his throat, but still Radine couldn’t think of one sensible word.

  “Duroc is a fine breed of pig,” Micah finally managed and Radine almost sighed with relief. “These animals were brought to the United States of America clear from England,” he said.

  “Is that so?” Radine finally remembered to throw the table scraps into the trough and together they watched Esther root among them, making happy pig sounds. I guess we’d as well talk about pigs as anything, Radine thought. “She’s the first red pig I ever did see, and sure enough I never saw any pig with droopy ears before.”

  “That’s the Duroc breed for you. Farmers back in Ohio especially favored them.” Micah smiled down at Radine. “Ohio was where my brother and I came from before we headed for the Land Run.”

  Radine remembered something Harriet had told her, and she felt a rush of sympathy for this tall, quiet man.

  “Then after all that work of filing, you both lost the lots you filed on. That was real bad luck and I was sorry to hear about it.”

  “Luck is one of those things that can change,” Micah said with quiet dignity. “When prices bottomed here in Guthrie after the big storm, me and Zachariah pooled our last few dollars and bought a lot in East Guthrie. Our thoughts then were to start us some kind of business after we gathered a stake. Those plans may have changed now, but it was still lucky Harriet offered us that job when she did. We were down to splitting a bowl of beans and cornbread.”