The Milch Bride (18 page)

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 out 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.

He held out the skirt and petticoat and she shook her head
as she held them up in front of her. “I’ll need to hem the skirts.”

She pulled on her plain cotton slip and the black skirt that
was already faded to a soft charcoal gray. Finally, she tied a wide black
grosgrain ribbon around her waist, unwilling to leave the house without any
black on.

She tied a large side bow on the lovely white bonnet he
handed her, delighted when she tied the matching one on J.D. and he didn’t
protest.

Jackson hustled her through the door, even as she tried to
delay to make the bed. The other men were already waiting by the buggy. James
handed Jackson a large mug of coffee and a napkin with biscuits and salt pork
inside as they quickly climbed into place on the buckboard.

Hank leaned forward. “I can hold J.D. while you two eat. You
sure look pretty, Mrs. Harper.”

Hattie smiled and blushed, hiding beneath the brim of her
bonnet as she turned and let the baby go into the waiting arms. Jackson opened
the napkin and took a large bite out of the biscuit loaded with fried pork,
then held it out for her to take a bite. He enjoyed her hesitation, but hunger
won out and she leaned forward, placing her hand over his as she bit the
biscuit. He noticed the exchange of knowing grins between the cowboys behind
them. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel angry but strangely proud. He stared down at
his pretty wife.”

Although the blouse had been one of Donna’s favorites, it
looked entirely different on Hattie. The high collar and lace edged sleeves
helped to hide the rosy skin where his whiskered chin had scratched her
delicate skin. Even J.D. bore rosy scratches on his tender cheek.

Hattie leaned forward to swallow tepid coffee, and then
accepted a second bite of biscuit. They ate, trading bites and sips until J.D.
protested, and Jackson reached back to pull him forward. By the time they were
finished, they were pulling into the church yard. Hattie brushed crumbs from
the dark skirt, then when Jackson brushed her blouse, rubbed her mouth, she
tilted her face up for his kiss. Instead of a kiss, Jackson sprang down, then
held a hand to steady her as she stepped down. He handed her the baby, nodded
at the men, then took her arm and walked up the stairs to the church. They were
late.

They were late, but services hadn’t started. Hattie thought
he would drop her arm and leave her at the back pew where she had always sat
with Rubye. But he didn’t leave her. Instead he kept her arm firmly locked with
his and Hattie carried the baby, aware that his flowing lace trimmed gown and
bonnet was mirrored by her own blouse and full bonnet. Her legs trembled as she
heard the shocked whispers as people reacted to their passing.

When they were at the front of the church, he indicated the
center aisle and Hattie slid in, grateful for the feel of the solid oak pew at
the back of her legs. When they were all in she sank down, and Jackson raised
an arm to rest on the back of the pew behind her back.

There were more angry whispers. From under the edge of the
bonnet, Hattie glanced over at the Dawsons. They both faced forward as though
unaware of the commotion around them. Hattie wondered what they must feel,
having Jackson bring her in like this and set her in their daughter’s place. It
must be horrible for them.

J.D. tugged irritably at his bonnet, and Jackson leaned
forward to tug the ribbon loose and remove the bonnet to reveal the soft brown
curls of hair. The boy leaned forward and cooed at his grandparents.

Both grandparents half-turned as the baby stretched to stand
on his daddy’s legs, the bonnet hanging from a chubby fist. Hattie watched as
they turned his way and smiled. She tried to see anger or resentment, but all
she saw was the joy they felt in seeing their grandson. Maybe they were happy
about the wedding, about her sitting here with Jackson. She smiled in their
direction and both faces suddenly became rigid. Just as quickly, they changed
back to smiles.

Irene pulled a small red object from her drawstring bag and
shook it lightly. J.D. bounced up and down and chortled, reaching out for it.
Jackson passed the baby over to Charlie Dawson and Hattie relaxed as the grandparents
held the happy boy.

When the sermon began, J.D. stopped babbling and listened.
Minutes later, every time the pastor paused, he would babble in the same
sing-song pattern as the preacher. When Irene shook the rattle to distract him,
he squealed with delight and tried to pull it into his mouth.

Half-way through the sermon, J.D. had finished preaching and
was busy teething on the gourd rattle when Irene Dawson blurted out, “Look
Charlie, he has a tooth.” Unfortunately it was during a pause, and Irene
covered her mouth in embarrassment as several people giggled.

Before the closing prayer, the preacher paused meaningfully
and everyone became still and quiet. “I would like to present to you for your
congratulations, our newest couple. Please rise, Mrs. Harriet Stoddard Harper
and Mr. Jackson Davis Harper.” The whispers intensified.

When the murmurs died down, the preacher continued.
“Congratulations too, to the young Reverend J.D. Harper, on his first tooth.” This
time the response was laughter. “Now, bow your heads for the closing prayer,”
the preacher added, sternly.

Hattie managed to refasten J.D.’s bonnet on the way out, but
there was no way he was going to release his new rattle. To her surprise,
several people waited outside to congratulate them, mainly the small ranchers.
She noticed the Dawsons, Thompsons, and other town’s people were avoiding them.
A couple of the town ladies made a point of standing and waiting, only to turn
away as they approached, in case they might miss the snub.

But Jackson kept his arm around her and the baby and she
held her head up, wanting him to be as proud of her as she was of him. He had
presented her as his wife to the entire congregation, to all the people in town
who mattered. If he could stand the whispers and snubs and still look proud and
happy, then she could do it too. J.D. loved the attention. Used to being passed
around at the ranch, he expected everyone to be eager to talk to him and want
to play.

She heard and savored the comments as people moved toward
their buggies. “Such a beautiful baby, such a lovely family.” Each kind word
buoyed her up and with Jackson as armor, she smiled and chatted and let the
snubs and slurs bounce off.

The only one she wanted to see was Rubye, who she realized
was missing for some reason. Had the Dawsons told her to stay home, had she
wanted to avoid them, was she sick?

“I had expected to see Rubye.”

“We’ll need to give her time to accept us. I’m sure if you
can spare him, James can go by and find out why she’s not here. In the
meantime,” he leaned closer and whispered, “Our little Bronco needs a change.”

Hattie smiled and carrying the baby, walked to the
buckboard. On the lowered tailgate, she changed him, then took the lacy blanket
and baby and let James Boyd lift her up onto the seat. Jackson pulled James
aside and after tipping his hat, the older cowhand took a horse from one of the
men and rode into town.

In minutes they were all loaded, Jackson climbing onto the
seat beside Hattie who had covered the nursing baby with his lacy blanket, his
bonnet once more hanging from his hand. In minutes, Jackson was able to snag
the bonnet from the limp fingers of the sleeping boy.

As they drove out of the church yard, she saw Charles and
Irene finally emerge from the church. It was obvious the couple had not wanted
to emerge and have to talk to them. Hattie again wondered what Donna would have
wanted them to do. How could her parents feel differently when she sat beside
their daughter’s husband, held her baby, wore her blouse and bonnet, even sat
in her place at church? She knew it had to hurt them.

<><><> 

The next morning it was nearly dawn when the baby finally
woke. Jackson took the time to change him before carrying him to slip into the
bed between them. He couldn’t remember being so happy, ever. His son was busily
nursing, keeping one hand on Hattie’s breast, the other pushing Jackson away.
Jackson laughed, nuzzling him and kissing his shoulder. “She’s all yours, is
she partner.” J. D. lifted his defending hand to push at his jaw, moving away
at the prickle of whiskers on his soft fingers.

Jackson kissed his cheek, then kissed Hattie, tasting her
joy on her lips.

When J. D. finished and lay there cooing and laughing
between them, they spent time, enjoying and playing with him. When Jackson
smiled at his relaxed bride, he reached out to caress her cheek, wanting to
capture her smile. J.D. reached up to grab his hand and keep him away. “I think
he’s telling me you’re all his.”

Hattie yawned sleepily, tired from the long day of cooking
alone and feeding the hands. James had stayed in town. She reached across to
touch Jackson’s face, cradling his jaw. “I thought you shaved.”

“Hours ago,” he growled, leaning closer in to rub his jaw
against her sensitive neck.

J.D. kicked and Jackson reeled back, moaning. “Uh-oh, got me
bronco!”

Hattie surprised him by leaning down and kissing his hurt.
Instantly, he rose to attention and she sat up and stared at him, her eyes
widening. “Did I do that?”

“Yeah, let’s see if the boy can go play in the crib so we
can play in bed. Where’s his pretty pony when you need him?”

Minutes later, the baby was contentedly playing with his
favorite toys and Jackson and Hattie were quietly playing under the covers.

<><><> 

Monday morning, she heard James talking to Jackson after
breakfast. “The Dawsons asked her to stay home, they were afraid she would rush
over and apologize and make an embarrassing scene.”

“Does she plan to come back to us?”

“Yeah,” he hesitated and Hattie strained to hear what was
said, but when she saw and heard Jackson laugh she blushed and stayed busy in the
kitchen washing dishes. Did everyone know what they were doing? It made her
remember the night before and blush even more. No, that laugh had to mean
something else.

The big pot of water boiled over on the stove and she
scooped some of the water out into the dishpan. James stood in the kitchen
door. “I never pickled or seen it done – et a few at the store. Do you need
help?”

“Yes, I forgot to ask for a jar lifter. I just thought Rubye
would have one. Do you think you can figure out something we can use? I need to
dip the jars and lids first in the boiling water, pack and fill them with
brine, then boil them filled for a few minutes – till the vinegar inside starts
to boil, then fish the jars out to cool, and pray they seal.

“What do you do if they don’t seal?”

“Eat a lot of pickles for a few days.”

He nodded. “I got just the tool.”

While he was gone, she checked her fresh picked cucumbers
and dill, carefully added the zinc lids and glass jars into the boiling water.
Then she prepared the pot of brine, carefully measuring salt and vinegar and
waiting for the second pot to reach a boil.

James came in with a strange device, but when he looped it
around a jar and tightened, he lifted the jar easily from the water. Hattie
took the jar in a towel and set it at the end of the counter, while James
fished the remaining jars out and added more jars. She dropped garlic, dill,
and pepper into the jar, and then packed it with fresh cucumbers.

J.D. started to fuss, and she hurried in to make sure he was
all right, then came back to finish the jars. She cleaned her hands before
topping the first jars with the boiling brine, then positioning the heavy zinc
lids on the wiped mouth of the jars, she twisted to tighten them. James had
removed the last of the clean jars and put the filled jars into the hot water
bath while she packed the remaining jars.

By the time the last jar was done, she was soaked with
sweat, but the counter was filled with gleaming blue jars of pickles. Hattie
smiled at James who was seated out at the dining room table, telling stories to
a happy J.D.

“I’ll take him for a while.”

“What do you want me to do with the boiling water?”

“As soon as I get this little man fed, I need to do the
laundry. When it’s safe, I guess add it to the washtub. We’ll be out in minutes.”

She burped and kissed the full baby, but J.D. was not in a
mood to nap. Hattie was delighted with the fenced porch and put him down where
he could watch and talk to her as she worked. Now he could sit up with only an
occasional roll, it was possible to leave him propped up by pillows on his
usual quilt. It seemed to take forever to finish the pile of clothes, bedding,
and baby things, but finally she was able to sit down on the porch and hold the
happy boy.

When the first hands rode up, she realized she hadn’t made
lunch and how messy she must look. James stepped out on the porch with a
pitcher of cold water and a damp towel and Hattie stared up at him. “Thank you,
but what are we going to feed them?”

“Made beans and corn bread, won’t be as good as your feed,
but they won’t starve.”

“Bless you James. Let me get in and wash up before Jackson
gets home. I know I must look a fright.”

The older cowhand stared at her pretty flushed face and
grinned. “Scare the man to death.”

She bolted up and James took the full baby, just as Jackson
rode into the yard and she raced into the house and the bedroom. Jackson
dismounted at the porch and opened the gate, dropping the reins and bounding
into the house after her. “Something wrong?” he asked James.

The cowboy shrugged and J.D. called after his daddy. Hank
stepped onto the porch and said, “Hey cowboy,” and the baby happily swung into
his arms instead.

“Where’s the calf?” Hank asked. “I see you got the castrator
in here.”

Jackson didn’t wait for an answer but crossed the house,
pulling open the bedroom door, concerned only with making sure that Hattie was
all right.

Hattie stood by the dresser, her face flushed and her hair
uncombed.  The bowl full of cold water and her sweat-stained unbuttoned blouse
revealed her intent. Hattie blushed even redder.

Grinning, Jackson closed the door.

As soon as he grinned her knees buckled and she sank to the
floor, cowering, clutching her blouse together.

His mood changed again. He rushed to her side, knelt down, eager
to pull her into his arms. But he froze as he saw her shaking with tears
running down her face. “Hattie,” he whispered, his voice soft and low as he
balanced on the balls of his feet, his arms open, but afraid of what might
happen if he touched her. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

Finally she raised her head and stared at him. Groaning, she
raised her arms to him and he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her cheek and
tasting the salt of her tears. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I just
suddenly…”

“Hush, no explanation needed. Let me get you something to
eat while you finish what you were doing.”

Outside, he quietly hurried. In minutes, he dished up two
bowls of beans, buttered two slabs of cornbread and set it atop the bowls, only
adding onion to the top of one. He let James hand him a full glass of milk and
tuck the pitcher of additional milk under his arm.

Without a word of explanation and only a quick wink at J.D.,
he disappeared back inside.

Hattie finished the second braid and let if fall over her
shoulder. She tucked and buttoned the throat button of the stained blouse.

Jackson set both bowls on the dresser while she took the
glass of milk and then rescued the pitcher from under his arm. “You want to
have a different blouse?”

“I don’t have anything ironed; they’re both on the line.”

He opened the closet and rummaged through, pulling out a red
checked shirt and skirt. Then opened the other side and pulled out a chemise
and petticoat. He walked around to where she was perched on the side of the
bed, noting the glass was half empty and she was eating the beans that had the
slice of onion on top. He set the clothes down and sat in the rocker to eat his
beans while they were still warm.