Prairie Hearts

by J. B. Marsden

  “Nor me.” Emma moaned. “I suppose the cock has wakened us and we are called to the day. I don’t want to leave your warm arms around me.”

  “And you make me want more coupling. Our very souls communed.”

  Emma hummed into Carrie’s shoulder. “Aye.”

  “But the day calls us, as you say.” Carrie kissed Emma, drew away, and rose from the bed with a grunt.

  On the way along the trace, every small part of the world was changed for Carrie. Every living thing she saw made her happy. She knew now why the whole of creation sought their own kind for coupling. She knew now how the poets wrote their songs of desire.

  One of the Shakespeare’s sonnets from her ma’s book came to mind:

  Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

  (Like to the lark at break of day arising

  From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate

  Heaven’s gate, is that where she was? It felt so, and even a soft rain could not ruin her happy heart this morn. The rain made all the colors brighter, trees popping with green and prairie flowers busting out in yellows. Busting out with life, like her.

  Softly, in an off-key alto, she sang. How could she contain the joy bubbling up from her heart?

  Maisey sped up as she neared Moss Creek. Oh, Laura and James. You will know what happened last night. She must tone down her soaring heart, hide the joy spilling out on her face in a silly grin, or they might ken her state and decipher what she had shared with Emma. That private love must stay private, but how, when she wanted to shout it aloud to all and sundry?

  She took her time getting Maisey fed and settled with Napoleon and the ox.

  Josh and George ran to her.

  “Auntie Carrie. Look, look. Momma got another milch cow!”

  There in a corner of the split-log paddock stood a spotted cow, munching on her cud quietly.

  “A milch cow. When did it come? What did Momma name it?”

  They both started talking at once. “George, you tell me.”

  “Mr. Dixson brung her at cock-crow this morn. We woke when we heard her moo. Me and Josh ran out first to see her, then Momma and Poppa left off breakfast and came out.”

  “George, let me tell, let me tell.” Josh poked his brother’s shoulder. “Her name’s Granny, ’cause she had grandbaby calves that Mr. Dixson raises. He said she’ll calve again in a few moons. We’ll have another cow. Poppa smiled a lot at that.”

  “I reckon he would.” Carrie grinned at the excited chattering.

  “Boys, get back to the firewood.” Laura shooed Josh and George off with a flutter of her apron. “Good morn, sister. Did you break your fast? The pigs you call your nephews didn’t eat every scrap and we got biscuits yet.”

  “I ate at Emma’s, thank ye,” Carrie didn’t meet Laura’s eyes. “I reckon I’m ready to help James. Where is he?”

  Laura stood next to her for a long minute.

  Carrie held her breath, itching to get away from Laura.

  “You need some rest still. Did you sleep? You look different.”

  Carrie toed the sod with the toe of her boot. “I slept.”

  “Come in and have some coffee. I want to talk with ye.”

  Carrie followed Laura and sat at the table while Laura poured mugs for them both and sat.

  “What happened at Emma’s? Conner?”

  Carrie felt her tense shoulders relax. “Yes. We took some vegetables over to the Conners’. He followed us back to Emma’s and had evil words for us both.”

  “After nearly three weeks, he grieves yet, I figure. He go on about you killing his young’uns?”

  “Aye, and more. Ranted on Emma losing Mrs. Ford in birthing. Said our concoctions came from black magic.” Carrie blew out her cheeks and scrubbed her face. “Claims he’ll bring the Squire on us.”

  Laura shook her head.

  “I want to call on Mr. Dixson. He might could get Conner to leave off his ranting.”

  “James went out to the timber to look after the hogs. He’ll be back anon. Mayhap you can ride up together.”

  Carrie’s heart lifted. “Aye.”

  After James returned, he and Carrie rode up to Dixson’s farm north of Locust Hill and found him at the cabin doing book work.

  “James, Granny not good?”

  “No. Other business to raise with you as the law.”

  They reported Conner’s threats. They talked of Conner’s grief, his pride, and his dislike of any but Mr. Kerr’s tending to his family’s illnesses.

  “I’ll have a talk with Mr. Conner on the morrow. I’m loaded down with ciphering my finances this day. He has no basis in law for his harassment of Emma and Carrie. I mean to warn him off. He did no mischief yesterday, Miss Fletcher?”

  “He only ranted at us.”

  “That were enough,” James put in.

  “Aye. He has no right to be hounding you ladies.”

  Carrie felt a large rock had lifted off her.

  As they rode, James asked, “You reckon to keep staying with Emma of a night if’n Dixson takes Conner on?”

  “Aye, I do.” Carrie panicked at the thought of not staying with her. “She lives alone at that cabin. I want…She needs another body with her.”

  James nodded. “I ken the need. She become a friend to you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You can use a friend that ain’t your kin.”

  Unexpected tears welled in Carrie’s eyes. “Thank ye, James.”

  Independence Day dawned with heat and sun. Only spatters of rain had fallen in a fortnight and Emma frowned at her garden’s drooping leaves. Against her wishes, Carrie, still recovering from her fever, took on hauling water buckets to slake the thirsty vegetables and herbs. Last evening, Emma had nearly shouted at the poor woman, who, she knew, only tried to help. The unrelenting sun made her feel out of sorts, nevertheless she was sorry to bark at poor Carrie.

  Carrie left earlier for Moss Creek, only to return for Independence Day events in Locust Hill at midday. Emma worried about her twice-daily ride back and forth along the trace. First, she worried that Laban and the Kickapoo may show their real stripes and become violent. She also worried about Carrie travelling so much, at times running off without a proper breakfast, to get to James and his infernal chores. She didn’t want bad blood with anybody, but resentment built at the hold James and his farm had on Carrie.

  Her final concern centered on their relationship. She and Carrie grew closer every night and generally lead the life of a settled couple. Carrie anticipated Emma’s needs, carrying in wood for the cook fire, hauling water, milking in the morn, gathering garden produce with her. They moved around the cabin comfortably as if they’d always lived together. After supper, Emma read to Carrie. Their situation felt comfortable and easy, and Emma loved having Carrie with her in her daily life.

  Then there was the love they shared. Each night transformed Carrie into a romantic lover the like of which Emma had never dreamed. They explored. They reveled in each other’s bodies. They cuddled, but they also lusted. Should she feel guilty about their coupling? Did not God give humans the ability to couple and, in doing so, reach heights of pleasure?

  Of course, God’s purpose was procreation. Could she be held accountable merely because she and Carrie’s coupling would never result in children? She wondered if that made their love against the commands of God. The Holy Bible spoke only against “men lying with one another as with a woman.” Mr. Wentz understood holy scripture, but she wasn’t inclined to ask him whether God approved of her love for Carrie. Her love was private, a world where only they two lived. She’d never jeopardize their time together by talking of it with others.

  As their love grew daily, a small sliver of dissatisfaction reared its head. Emma found it harder to let Carrie go in the morns. Her words from earlier that morn filled her mind.

  “Darling, my sweet. Don’t go quite yet.” Emma hugged Carrie tightly to her bosom.

  “Emma, honey, you know the ch
ores at Moss Creek call me. I’ll see you anon at the picnic.”

  Emma snuggled into Carrie’s neck, pecked it, using her wiles.

  “Honey, we must stop.” Carrie chuckled. “You’re like the siren leading me to the rocks. Do I need to tie myself to a ship mast?”

  Emma had been reading The Odyssey to Carrie in the candlelight of an evening for the last week. She’d been delighted at the story and soaked it up.

  “You’re not wandering in the sea, my love. You’re safe here at home. Why does James need you? The boys do all the chores quite well, you say.”

  Carries stepped away from their embrace. “James…I owe him and Laura. Without them, after Pa and Mary Lou passed I’da been lost.”

  “Aye. But…” Emma pondered carefully before she spoke further. “I want you to continue to stay here after Independence Day. Would that not please you as well?”

  “Oh, honey…” Carrie rubbed her hand through her hair. “I’d be as pleased as punch. You know that. We’ll talk with James later. Laura…she knows us. She kens our love. Let’s leave it.” She walked to the door and back, then came to Emma and held her at arm’s length. “Trust. We best trust God smiling down on us and it’ll work out. I want you so much. Can God say nay against our love?”

  Emma shook her head. “I pray to God to bless us every night.”

  Carrie left for Moss Creek.

  Emma paced the cabin, picking up the trenchers and putting them down on the table again. She exhaled deeply. Hope and faith. Emma knelt at their bed and prayed to God for guidance, for a way to be cleared for her and Carrie’s love.

  Later that day, Carrie rode Maisey ahead of the Stratton wagon. The boys joked and laughed back in the wagon with Laura and the girls while James drove. Carrie looked forward to this day away from their never-ending toils. And though she’d just left Emma, she was also looking forward to seeing her again soon.

  Emma, so sweet, so tender. She wanted more. Carrie did as well, but what about the Moss Creek farm? Tending chickens was her job now the summer had arrived full-on and the hens had started laying. Hay needed to be cut, dried, and stacked before cold weather set in. Vegetables ripening each day needed to be put up. But Emma also needed to lay by for winter, and she couldn’t handle all that work on her own. Carrie felt pulled two ways. At times her handiness became a burden, not that she was against hard toil. Both James and Emma—she loved them both. Did she have to choose?

  When they arrived at Locust Hill picnic grounds next to the church at midday, a line of wagons stood along the creek, and horses, mules, and oxen were tethered in the pasture nearby. She immediately helped Laura get the children settled. The boys found Thad and the Mumford brood and went fishing in the creek.

  She held Gerta’s hand while Laura put Permelia in a basket under the wagon and laid out a blanket near other blankets already spread around the picnic area. Two stumps sat for speech-making by the local men holding office and those hoping to be voted in later in the fall after harvest.

  She combed the grounds, seeking Emma’s lovely face. Carrie frowned.

  “Happy Independence Day,” Elizabeth called out with a smile for them, her growing belly under her dark muslin dress.

  Laura pecked Elizabeth on the cheek, and they sat to talk about the progress of her childbearing. James and Blanton found their way to Moose, Dixson, and other men gathered around a jug of apple jack.

  Carrie, feeling lost and a little apprehensive about whether the Conners would show up, walked among the blankets.

  “Good day.” Carrie greeted Nancy Mumford, the Wallaces, and Susannah Dixson, who stirred a large kettle emanating a wonderful aroma. “Stew?”

  “Aye,” Susannah answered. “Fresh venison.”

  Mr. Wallace pointed toward the group of men. “Provided by Laban and his companion.”

  “Fresh venison is always well met. We’re grateful to them. They wanted to skedaddle, but we invited them to stay for midday meal. I believe we have enough stew to feed the crowd,” Mrs. Wallace added. “Tell your family, Miss Fletcher, to bring their trenchers.”

  Carrie nodded. “Laban and Red Fox, eh? I’ll tell Laura.”

  She coaxed Laura and Elizabeth to take part in the stew. Laura filled trenchers for Sam and Gerta.

  Carrie relaxed when she spied Emma trotting into the picnic grounds on her small cart led by a prancing Titan.

  She smiled and helped Emma down from the cart. “Good day, Miss Reynolds.”

  Emma smiled demurely. “Good day.” She whispered into Carrie’s ear, “I yearn to kiss you, sweeting.”

  Carrie ducked her head and her face got hot. “As do I.” She picked up the bundle of food from the cart. “Come sit with us.”

  After the midday meal, men gathered near the stumps. Dixson stepped up and announced the speeches.

  “The speechifying will last a while. Would you take a walk with me?”

  Emma merely grinned, threaded her arm through Carrie’s, and they strolled quietly along the cool shade of the creek-side trees.

  After a mile, Carrie stopped them and sneaked a peck to Emma’s lips.

  Emma giggled. “Be aware, my love, lest we be caught.” She caressed Carrie’s cheek, sending her heart galloping.

  “I long to take you in my arms and make you know my love for you.” Carrie chuckled. “But you’re right as always. Not here.”

  Suddenly, Josh crashed through the brush. “Auntie, the Indian pudding. You’ll miss the pudding!”

  Emma laughed.

  “All right, boy-cub. Walk back with us. You’ll scare the wildlife clattering through the timber that way.”

  “Yes’m.” Josh slowed down.

  “How do the morning chores come along?” Carrie asked him.

  “I reckon good enough. Poppa praised me yestidy after I fed the horse and Momma’s new milch cow. Then I hauled the milk in for Momma without being asked. He was awful pleased. Momma said I was getting to be a good farm boy.” He stuck out his chest.

  Carrie ruffled his hair. “What if I don’t come back of a morning? You’d be in charge of the hens and hogs.”

  Josh grinned. “I would? Gosh a’mighty. You’d stay with Miss Reynolds?”

  “Mayhap. Your poppa will decide later this day. Go ahead. You don’t need to walk with us, but don’t make so much noise in the timber.”

  Josh sped off, calling back, “Yes’m.”

  Back at the picnic grounds, Carrie saw the Conners had not come to Independence Day. She relaxed back on the blanket, gazing at the few clouds floating by.

  Emma played with Gerta and her rag doll. “What is this doll’s name?”

  “Name Dolly.”

  She laughed heartily. “A good name, Miss Gerta.” She continued to talk with Gerta about her doll and help her play Momma. When she looked up, Carrie lay on her side watching them and grinning. “Would you play Poppa?”

  Carrie shook her head and kept watching.

  Gerta walked to Carrie and held out her doll. “Kiss Dolly.”

  Carrie sat up and puckered her lips for a small peck on Dolly’s cheek.

  “Dolly kiss back.” Gerta pressed the doll’s face to Carrie’s.

  Laura sat on the blanket. “I see you’ve met Dolly.” She stroked Gerta’s hair gently.

  Carrie grinned. “Aye, and got a kiss from her.”

  “I laid Permelia down for her nap. Time to rest, Gerta.” Laura led Gerta away with her doll to the Wallaces’ cabin, where babes and young’uns napped in the heat of the day.

  Laura returned with James in tow.

  “You two been trying out the new scheme for a week. How goes it?”

  “Do the boys do the chores to your liking?” Carrie asked, holding her breath. Josh certainly had reported James’s reaction truthfully, hadn’t he?

  James lit his pipe, blew a puff of smoke, and lay on his side. Carrie rarely saw him so at his ease. “Josh and George do well. The milking gets done. They tend the hogs down in the timber without mishap. I do need y
ou at hay-cutting in a fortnight. I reckon we can cut our hay then come up and help Mr. Winters at Emma’s.” He puffed silently for a while, looking in the distance. “If’n it pleases you two, why not continue the way you been, Carrie going up of a night? No need to come down to Moss Creek some days at all. Emma, on her own, has need of you more than us, Carrie. I can lay out the scheme of the work and you’ll have in mind what days to be at Moss Creek and when at Locust Hill.”

  Carrie looked at Emma, holding her happiness in. “That suits me, James, if’n you are certain.”

  Laura said, “Josh and George are of an age to do more around the farm. They about bust to help, right James?”

  “That they do. I reckon they see it as playing at farmer. I suspicion that notion will go by the wayside soon enough as the work gets old.” He chuckled.

  After speeches by Dixson and Mr. Wallace, both holding local offices, Blanton stood to say he would run for road commission. James even said a few words putting himself forward for the start of a school board that would raise funds for Miss Dozier’s small salary, given that a passel of children needed her skills. She would room and board around with Moss Creek and Locust Hill families. Miss Dozier smiled her thanks.

  Moose stood up for safety commission, under Dixson’s oversight as Squire. The speeches ran into the late afternoon, and then it was time for the games.

  Miss Dozier, in her role as teacher, called together the boys for sack races, egg races, and three-legged races. In the three-legged race, sons and fathers were tied together. Josh raced with James, and Thad with Blanton. Dixson offered to race with George.

  “Can I race, Momma?” Sam looked up at Laura, his eyes pleading.

  “Next year, Sammy, when you’re five.”

  Sam went off, hanging his head, but perked up when one of Moose and Nancy’s sons, who was his age, called him off to play with a leather ball Moose had made for him.

  Elizabeth called the girls to her in teams to card and spin wool donated by Moose and Dixson’s sheep.

  Then it was time for the Independence Day horse race. Dixson showed the markers for the one-mile course.