Fated Memories

by Judith Ann McDowell

  “Ah hell, this is all in fun, Hattie. No need to get riled.”

  “You jes git yo’ liquor an’ git on outta here, Mist’ Frank,” she warned him, her wide lips puckered in anger. “Doan you lets me ketch you roun’ hyrah no mo’.”

  The fire burning in his groin made it almost impossible to turn away, but he told himself now could not be the time. “Yeah I’ll go.” He ran a callused hand down the young girl’s satiny cheek. “There’ll be another time, little girl. I promise you that.”

  As he walked away, Hattie shook her black, linen-wrapped head in anger. “Ah tole Mist’ Eathen dat man bes bad, but he doan lissin ter me. He jes’ gwan an’ ast him ter comes ter de pahty anyways.”

  “He is just a fat gringo.” Anna spat on the ground, the full breasts beneath her white cotton blouse heaving with emotion.

  “Ah heerd dat!” Hattie agreed. “Ah’ve a good mind ter go tells Miz Charlotte ‘bout him. Yas’m,” she nodded with determination, “dat jes’ whut Ah’s gwing do! W’ile Ah’s gone,” she pulled the short puffed sleeves of Anna’s low-cut blouse higher up on her shoulders, “you gits back of disyere table. Ah bes back in a jiffy,” she said, leaving a nervous Anna staring after her.

  “You’re gettin’ prettier everyday,” Sarah crooned to the small baby she held in her arms.

  “We’re real proud of her,” Charlotte replied.

  “When’s she gonna have a little brother?” Sarah nibbled on the tiny fingers. When Charlotte remained quiet, Sarah looked up. “Charlotte, I asked you a question.”

  “I heard you.”

  “What is it? Did something go wrong at Jessie’s birth you ain’t tellin’ me?”

  “Not really.” She fidgeted with the buttons of her light brown cotton blouse.

  “I can see somethin’s wrong, Charlotte. We’ve always been able to talk to each other. Can’t you tell me what it is that’s botherin’ you?”

  Without turning, Charlotte murmured, “After you had Little Frank, was the pain still fresh in your mind?”

  Glancing at her young son as he busied himself with his food and making a mental note to sponge the stains off his jeans, Sarah shrugged her slim shoulders. “I really never thought about it. He come so fast, I can’t even say I suffered. I wanted more kids, but with Frank’s temper the way it is well, you know…”

  “I told Eathen I wouldn’t give him anymore children.” She turned, her eyes clouding with emotion. “I can’t go through that again! I just can’t!”

  Walking closer, Sarah placed a hand on Charlotte’s arm. “How did Eathen take it?”

  Charlotte could feel the heat of shame touching her cheeks. “He told me he didn’t care. He said there are plenty of women willin’ to share his bed.”

  “Oh, Charlotte, he didn’t,” Sarah breathed, snuggling the baby closer.

  “I always wondered if he was faithful. Now I don’t have to wonder anymore.” She dabbed her eyes with the hem of her tan-colored skirt.

  “It must be hard sharin’ a bed with a man you know’s been unfaithful.” Sarah’s eyes filled with pity. “I sure wouldn’t wanta do it.”

  “Eathen sleeps in the guest room.” Charlotte wrung her hands, unable to meet Sarah’s gaze. “He has since Jessie’s birth.”

  “Do you mean to tell me,” Sarah lowered her voice, shot a nervous glance to her son, “you ain’t let him touch you since the baby was born? My Frank wouldn’t put up with that for a second!”

  “Eathen ain’t worried. With his money, he can have any woman he wants.” Charlotte snapped her fingers. “Just like that!”

  “Well, Frank and me have our problems, but one thing I can say for sure,” Sarah bounced the fussy baby to hush her, “I don’t need to worry ‘bout him cheatin’ on me.”

  For a wild moment, Charlotte almost laughed at the picture in her mind’s eye of Sarah’s potbellied husband trying to capture the attentions of another woman, when she glanced up to see Hattie standing in the doorway.

  Afraid they may have been overheard, her tone came off abrupt. “Is everything goin’ all right with the barbecue, Hattie?”

  “Yas’m,” Hattie nodded, “but Ah needs ter speakes ter you fer jes’ a minute, effen Ah could.”

  “All right, Hattie. I’m listenin’.”

  “Ah means,” she jerked her head in the direction of the door, “ah needs ter speaks ter you alone, Miz Charlotte.”

  “You go ahead, Charlotte,” Sarah told her. “I’ll stay here with Little Frank and the baby.”

  Following Hattie outside, Charlotte could feel her temper rising. “There was no reason why you couldn’t speak to me in front of Sarah. I will not tolerate rudeness!”

  “Ah kain tells you ‘bout dis in fronts of her.” Hattie tugged Charlotte further out onto the porch. “It bes ‘bout Mist’ Frank.”

  “What about Frank?” Charlotte could feel her stomach already knot up with dread.

  “He done grabbed on ter dat lil’ brown-skinned gal Mist’ Eathen hired ter he’p out wid de pahty.”

  “Oh Lord.” Charlotte threw up her hands in frustration. “Did he hurt her?”

  “No’m, Miz Charlotte.” Hattie leaned her head in close. “He din hu’t her none, kase Ah tole him effen he din tuhn her loose, Ah’s gwing ter lays a pot up side his haid.”

  “Where’s Frank now?”

  “Ah doan knows an’ Ah doan cares.” Hattie crossed her arms across her chest. “He ain’ gots no bizness tawmentin’ dat lil brown-skinned gal, Miz Charlotte.” She uncrossed her arms to shake a warning finger in Charlotte’s face. “An’ Ah done tole him dat he better not let me ketch him messin’ round agin.”

  “All right, Hattie. I’ll handle it.” Charlotte swatted away the ominous finger. “If you see Eathen, tell him I’m lookin’ for him.”

  “Yas’m, Miz Charlotte, Ah sho will.” Hattie mopped her sweaty brow with a corner of her white starched apron, pleased her earlier warning of the man should not have been ignored.

  As Charlotte walked away to find Eathen, Sarah rubbed her chin against the baby’s soft hair, before turning from the open window.

  Charlotte had gone but a short way when she looked up to see a stranger riding towards her. As he drew in his horse, she smiled up at him.

  “Hello. Can I help you?”

  “I sure hope so,” he grinned. “I’m lookin’ for the foreman.”

  “I’m afraid we’re without a foremen right at the moment, so the man you would need to see is Eathen Thornton.”

  “And just where might he be?” The man removed his beat up Stetson, wiped a sleeved arm across his sweaty forehead.

  “Right now, I’m not sure.” Her heart fluttered as she stared up into the greenest eyes she had ever seen.

  For a long moment he on sat his horse gazing down at her, the corners of his full mouth lifting to show beautiful white even teeth. “Do you have any idea where I could start lookin’?”

  When Charlotte realized how she had been staring at him, she put her hands behind her back and laced them together.

  His eyes followed her gesture with obvious pleasure.

  “I’m sorry. As you can see, we’re in the middle of a barbecue.” Her hands fluttered toward the many tables set up around the yard. “I’ll have to look for him, so get down and get something to eat and I’ll try’n find him.”

  With a sly grin, he dismounted to stand beside her.

  “The tables are right over there.” She pointed out to him once more. “The liquor table’s at the end. Just help yourself.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled, enjoying her discomfort at his nearness. “But I think I’d better see to my horse first.”

  Angry at herself for acting so foolish, she nodded in the direction of the corrals. With a slight wink, he walked away to tend to his mount.

  Frank had not taken his eyes off the beautiful young Mexican girl since he had first seen her standing beside Hattie. Determined to get her alone, he waited. Finally his patience paid off as he spied her w
alking alone toward the smokehouse.

  Frank looked around and, seeing no heads turned his way, entered the smokehouse. He stood motionless, the smell of smoked meat filling the air around him. As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light filtering in through the open door, he looked around until he spied her lifting a ham from off one of the lower hanging hooks. Without making a sound, he made his way to where she stood. With one hand, he jerked her around and covered her mouth.

  Anna fought him with every fiber of her being, kicking out, trying to loosen his hold on her.

  Frank threw her to the floor, straddling her thrashing body. “Shut up, you little bitch,” he snarled, giving her a vicious slap across the face. “I told you there’d be another time, and ole McKennah’s a man of his word.”

  “Let me go!” she screamed, trying to twist away from him.

  “Hold still, damn-it! A girl pretty as you must be used to this by now,” he panted, pushing her full skirt up around her waist.

  “No! Let me go!” She tried to rake her long nails down his face.

  “Sure I will, honey,” Frank grabbed both her hands in one of his, “just as soon as I’m finished with you.” His free hand worked on opening the buttons on his jeans.

  Without warning, McKennah felt himself being jerked upward and a fist smashing into his face again and again, until darkness settled over him.

  Scrambling to her feet, Anna took off through the open smokehouse door as if all the devils of darkness threatened to devour her. In her haste to escape, she ran straight into Eathen, who had just entered the smokehouse.

  “What the hell’s goin’ on?” he roared, as her small body propelled him backward into the light.

  Unable to answer, Anna stood there, crying and pointing inside the building.

  “All right, simmer down and tell me what happened.” Eathen kept his voice calm as he brushed her waist-length black hair back from her face.

  “He tried to…hurt me,” she sobbed, her breath catching on her words.

  “Who did?” he asked then stopped, as a complete stranger walked out of the smokehouse, dusting himself off.

  “You son-of-a-bitch!” Eathen swung, his fist catching the man off guard.

  Rolling to one side, the injured man tried getting to his feet just as Eathen’s boot caught him in the stomach to send him reeling backward into the dirt.

  “I’ll teach you to come onto my property and put your hands on a girl entrusted to my keepin’, you filthy bastard!” Eathen jerked the young man to his feet.

  “No, señor!” Anna screamed, trying to pull Eathen’s balled fist back to his side. “It was not him. He saved me.”

  “Well, why the hell didn’t you say so,” Eathen loosened his grip on the front of the man’s light blue shirt, “‘fore I damn near killed him?”

  “I was afraid, Señor.”

  “All right! Did this man hurt you in any way?”

  Too upset to speak, she simply shook her head.

  “Good! Go on up to the house and tell Miss Charlotte what happened. I’ll be along as soon as I take care of the Good Samaritan here.”

  Nodding, Anna ran off to talk to Charlotte.

  “You all right?” Eathen asked, turning to the tall, lean man staring at him.

  “Yeah, no thanks to you,” he breathed, brushing the dust from his tousled blond hair.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Who’d you come with?”

  “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business,” he stooped to pick up his hat, “but I came alone.”

  “Oh, I see.” Eathen eyed the young man. “Another saddle tramp, lookin’ for a hand out. Is that it?” Eathen withdrew a cigar from his shirt pocked.

  “Look mister, I don’t know who the fuck you are and, what’s more, I don’t give a shit.” He slapped the dusty hat against his jeans. “I rode in here lookin’ for a job.”

  “If that’s so,” Eathen bit off one end of the cigar, spit it to the ground, “why the hell you lurkin’ ‘round the smokehouse?”

  “One of the women up at the house said I could leave my horse in the corral.”

  “Go on.” Eathen struck a match against the fence post.

  “I heard screams as I walked past the smokehouse. I walked in and found some asshole tryin’ to molest her.” His gaze followed Anna as she ran towards the house. “I’d just finished knockin’ his dick in the dirt, when you came along and sucker-punched me on my way out the door.”

  “I see.” Eathen touched the lit match to the cigar and puffed until the tip glowed red.

  “I couldn’t care less whether you do or not.” The cowboy turned on his heel to leave.

  “Thought you came to see about a job.”

  “Not anymore. You can tell Thornton for me he can stick his job up his ass.” He grabbed hold of his horse’s reins.

  “There’s no need for me to tell him anything. You just did.”

  With one foot already in the stirrup, he turned to see the man who had just beaten him, eyeing him through a curl of smoke.

  “I’m Eathen Thornton. If you’ve cooled off, we can talk ‘bout your hirin’ on here.”

  “That depends.” With a light agility, he stepped to the ground.

  “On what?”

  “I’m still waitin’ for an apology.”

  With a slow grin, Eathen held out his hand. “You got it. Now, can we start over?”

  The cowboy clasped Eathen’s hand. “My name’s Dave Houston.” The corners of his mouth lifted. “I hear you’re lookin’ for a new foreman.”

  ***

  A ranch the size of the one Eathen Thornton called home was no easy matter to keep running. Five thousand acres of the best cattle range this side of Helena, including a twenty room log-house, a bunk house that could sleep thirty men, out buildings and a two acre holding pen used to break the wild herds of mustangs the ranch hands rounded up and brought in off the range every spring, needed a strong hand to keep it running. The main house sat in the middle of three manicured acres, surrounded by the dozen or so maple and elm trees Eathen had planted himself. Being a Montana State Legislator, Eathen had to be away from the ranch more often than not, so the need for a competent man to oversee the running of such an enterprise was a dire necessity.

  The job of foreman usually went to the man with the most seniority, but Eathen had no one on the ranch who could handle the job. In the days to come, Dave Houston turned out to be just the man Eathen had been looking for to fill the position. His no-nonsense attitude about how a spread should be run, and his willingness to work along side his men, earned him the respect of almost, everyone on the ranch.

  “Ah sees you gots yo’ bags packed. Does dat mean you’s fixin’ ter leaves agin?” Hattie set a cup of coffee down on the table before settling herself into a chair.

  “Yes, Hattie. I’ll be at The Capital for a few weeks. Now that Houston’s here to take care of everything, I see no reason why I can’t get back to takin’ care of business.” Eathen smoothed out his dark brown suit coat before lifting one deeply-tanned leather boot to a high-backed wooden chair, buffing it with a starched linen napkin from the table.

  “Miz Charlotte know bout dis trip?” She clamped her jaw as he threw the smudged linen back down on the table.

  “I expect she does.” He glanced over at her. “Why do you ask?”

  “Ah jes’ thought it’d bes nice effen she could go along. She needs ter git away frum dis ranch fer awhile, Mist’ Eathen.”

  “Charlotte’s got all she can handle right here, Hattie. Besides, she don’t enjoy bein’ at the Capital. Her friends are here.”

  “It ain’ her friends Ah’m worried ‘bout. An you gots bizness right hyah ter bes tendin’ ter,” she scolded; raising her voice to be sure she was being heard as he passed her on his way to the kitchen. “It ain’ right fer a mahied man ter bes sleepin’ by hisseff. Yo’ gwing off agin w’en Miz Charlotte bes worrit whut you bes up ter is jes’ astin’ fer trouble.” She sti
rred a heaping spoonful of sugar into her already creamed coffee.

  “You worry too much, Hattie, ‘bout things that don’t concern you. Charlotte has the baby to keep her occupied. And she can always call on Sarah if she gets bored.” Eathen stooped to see into the small mirror above the wash pan which sat empty on a narrow stand. Drawing a slender comb from the back pocket of his tailor-made brown suit pants, he ran the comb through his thick dark hair. Satisfied with his appearance, he walked out of the kitchen to where Hattie still sat, enjoying her coffee.

  “Humph,” Hattie snorted, swallowing a bite of her toast. “Dat Mist’ Frank doan let her goes no whar lessin’ he knows ‘bout it.” She slathered more strawberry jam over the remaining toast. “He ain’ fixin’ ter lets her come over hyah, kase Mist’ Dave put a whupin’ on him over dat lil brown-skinned gal he wuz tryin’ ter mess wid.” She popped a finger into her mouth to capture a drop of jam before it escaped onto the tablecloth.

  “That’s all been forgotten, Hattie.” Eathen lifted the coffeepot off the hot pad to pour himself a cup of coffee. “Frank got drunk.” He reached past Hattie for the sugar-bowl. “He didn’t hurt her.”

  “He din’ hu’t her kase Mist’ Dave put a hu’tin’ on him.” She pushed the cream-pitcher towards him. “Effen he hadden’, Mist’ Frank’d done ruint dat po’ chile fer sho!”

  “Well, it’s all over now,” Eathen said, stirring the cream and sugar into his coffee, hastening to bring an end to the touchy subject.

  “It bes over til’ de nex time,” Hattie murmured, as he set the now empty cup down on the table.

  ***

  Charlotte had finished placing Jessie back in her bed when she turned to see Eathen, his arms folded across his chest, leaning against the door-jam watching her. Blushing, she covered her exposed breast. “Yes, Eathen?”

  “I’m leavin’ in a few minutes. I wanted to see the baby before I left. I didn’t mean to walk in on you. Just habit, I guess.”

  “Yes, well, as you can see,” Charlotte nodded in the direction of the baby’s crib, “I just got her to sleep. I’d appreciate your not wakin’ her. I’ll be downstairs until you go.” She swept her long dress to one side, so as not to brush against him in her passing.