by Norah Hess
Bertha agreed and added, "And she will be again once she gains Some weight."
"I don't suppose she'll ever marry again. There's not many men who would want to take on her brood and raise them," Laura said.
Bertha gazed thoughtfully into her coffee. "I doubt that Agnes would want to ever marry again. She told me emphatically that she would never again share a bed with a man. Being married to George cured her of ever wanting another man in a biblical sense, not even if he was an angel sent down from heaven." Later, when Laura had said good-bye and was walking home, she still had Agnes on her mind.
What if Agnes and Hunter got together? They were around the same age. Agnes had no use for men, in her bed at least, and poor Hunter wouldn't want or need that part of a relationship. He loved children and would have a ready-made family. Also, having a wife, he would appear like every other man in the village.
She would throw the two together every chance she got, Laura continued to daydream. Agnes must come to Pa's birthday party. Maida would be happy to lend her one of her new dresses, and Agnes had beautiful thick hair if taken out of the tight knot she kept it in.
Her face glowed with the thought of playing Cupid.
Chapter Fifteen
As Laura visited with the Morse family, she urged for the third time, "Please come to Taylor's birthday party, Agnes. You and your children will be the only family who won't be there."
"But, Laura, you know I've never attended any of the affairs in the village," Agnes reminded her. "I know that, and it's high time that you did. You would be more than welcome at any get-together."
Agnes looked down at her worn but neat dress. "Anyhow, I haven't got anything nice to wear." She looked up at Laura. "I'll send Mary and Jebbie. They've never been to a party before and will look forward to it. Thanks to the neighbors, they can get dressed up pretty good."
"And so can you. Maida would be pleased to loan you one of her dresses. She's never been to a party before and she's real excited about finally attending one."
"I don't know, Laura," Agnes said, weakening. "It's been so long since I've been with a group of people. I don't know if I can remember how to act."
"You'll act just fine, don't worry about it, just be your own sweet self."
"Do you really think the women will talk to me?"
"Of course they will," Laura answered, then gave a little derisive laugh. "I'm the one they won't talk to. They look on me as a fallen woman, you know."
"I've heard that mean gossip and I think it's a shame, all because your little one has blond hair. Three of my children were born with blond hair, and God knows I never lay with any man other than George. I wouldn't have had the strength nor the opportunity to do so. It could be that either you or Taylor had white-haired relatives some generations back. It just came out in Jolie."
"Me and Ma will talk to you, Laura," young Mary said from her seat beside the fireplace. "Won't we, Ma?"
"We certainly will." Agnes's eyes snapped angrily. "I don't know how some folks can be so mean. I know they've been good to me and my children, but I can't help holding it against them, talking about you the way they do."
Laura shrugged a slim shoulder. "I don't let it bother me anymore. It used to hurt at first. I've known those women all my life. But I have Justine and Maida, and now you, for friends." Her lips tilted in a grin. "And I mustn't forget Big Bertha."
"All those gossipers are going to be sorry the way they've treated you someday. You just wait and see," Agnes said with conviction. "As your little one grows older she's going to start looking like a Thomas. Either her hair will darken or her features will take on the look of Taylor. It never fails. The truth most always comes out. I've seen it happen with my own children."
"Do you really think so, Agnes?" Laura asked eagerly. "I know so."
A few minutes later Laura left the small two-room cabin that was now snug and warm. Some of the village men had spent a day re caulking between the logs and cutting wood. Agnes now had enough wood to last her through the winter, plus enough money to provide food for the family. Any time she needed something from the store, Fletch took the cost from the big pickle jar. Come spring, rested and strong again, Agnes and her children would put in crops and be able to support themselves.
Laura was so deep in thought she almost forgot to stop at the store and collect Jolie. "You've been gone long enough." Fletch glowered at her when she stepped inside. "I can't believe you've spent all this time with Agnes Morse. Are you stringing a new man along now?"
"Yes, I am." An impish devil glittered in Laura's eyes. "He's a trapper friend of yours. I really like him. I may hold on to him for a while."
Rage darkened Fletch's face so much that Laura took a step back, sure that this time he would strike her. But he made no move toward her. His eyes icy bleak, he said, "You've turned into quite a slut, haven't you?" When Laura merely shrugged, he grated out, "Take your bastard and get out of my sight."
Laura gasped from the pain Fletch's words caused her. In all his name-calling he had never attacked Jolie before. Tears sprang into her eyes as she picked the baby up out of her basket.
She was halfway to the door when Fletch came after her, saying thickly, "I'm sorry, Laura, I didn't mean that about Jolie. I care deeply for her, you know that."
Laura stared up at him, mockery glittering in her tear-wet eyes. "But underneath that deep caring you look upon her as a bastard. Your anger let it slip out."
"That's not true. I admit that anger made me say it, but I have never, ever thought of the little one that way."
"Hah!" Laura snorted sharply and slammed out the door, leaving Fletch standing there, utter defeat on his face. Laura would hate him until the day she died, he thought.
Laura wiped her eyes as she approached the cabin and saw a young Indian waiting for her on the porch. He was hunkered down beside Brave, rubbing his head and talking to him. When she stepped up on the porch, the boy jumped to his feet. She vaguely remembered seeing him in the Indian village.
She smiled at him and he said, "I am Chief Muga's grandson. He has sent me to give you this." He handed her a small, flat package. Laura thanked him and took the package. "Please come inside while I lay my daughter down. I don't want her to catch cold." The teenager hesitated a moment, then, having always wondered what the white man's cabins looked like inside, nodded and followed her. "Have a seat." Laura motioned toward the rocking chair. "I'll just be a minute."
The boy's black, curious eyes scanned the room, taking in the furnishings, the pictures on the walls, the clock whose ticking fascinated him, the bright woven rugs on the floor. He relaxed after a moment and sat back in the chair. His movement set the chair to rocking, and, startled, he began to jump to his feet. Then he discovered that it wasn't going to spill him to the floor, and he moved it to make it rock again.
When Laura returned a minute later he had the chair rocking madly, a wide smile on his face. He's going to tip it over, Laura thought with concern and hurried to say, "Come sit at the table and have some cookies and milk."
When Laura poured the milk and placed a plate of the sugar delicacies before the lad, he eyed the sweets curiously. "Taste one, you'll like it," Laura urged.
The young Indian picked up one of the round, flat sweets and cautiously bit into it. He chewed and swallowed; then a grin spread across his face. "Good," he said and reached for another one.
"You're Red Fox's son, aren't you?" Laura asked, recognizing the smile as similar to that of Fletch's Indian friend.
"Yes. I am called Little Fox," Laura was answered proudly. "I am my parents' firstborn. It was my father's face that I saw when I opened my eyes."
Laura picked up the package from Little Fox's grandfather and opened the square of tanned animal skin. Her eyes widened at the beautiful necklace that lay there. A large piece of turquoise was framed in beaten silver and hung from a leather thong. In its center was carved an Indian symbol. As she rubbed a finger over it, Little Fox explained, "It is a sign
that if any of our tribe see this around your neck, they will never harm you. There might come a time when they will help you if you need it."
"Please tell your grandfather that I will treasure his gift. I will wear it every time I leave the vicinity of the village."
"He will be pleased to hear that," Little Fox said, reaching for yet another cookie.
The teenager proved to be quite a talker. He spoke of his family, and until the cookie plate was empty, he boasted of hunting trips he had gone on. When he finally rose to leave, Laura invited, "Come visit me anytime. I bake cookies almost every day."
When Little Fox closed the door behind him, Laura took Chief Muga's gift into her bedroom and laid it in a small cedar chest that Fletch had made for her on her fourteenth birthday. It joined a string of beads, a pair of earbobs, and a brooch. Items precious to her. They had belonged to mother Marie.
Closing the lid on the fragrant cedar, she went back to the kitchen and started preparing supper. Fletch would arrive within the next hour to pick up Taylor's evening meal, and she wanted to be sure the basket was outside waiting for him. She wished that she need never again see or talk with him. Insulting her baby had been the last straw.
As she peeled potatoes and carrots to add to the beef stew, Laura knew it was impossible not to see Fletch again, but she wouldn't have to talk to him. She had to visit Pa at least every other day or he would want to know why she was staying away. If she told him why, Lord knew what he might say to Fletch in anger. That she wanted to avoid at all costs.
Stars shone coldly in the sky as Laura hurried toward the Morse cabin. She was late. Big Bertha had come to take care of Jolie while Laura attended Taylor's birthday party, and she had lingered too long visiting with the madam.
As she stepped up on the sagging porch, a glance through the window showed the Morses waiting for her. "I could never bring myself to face all the neighbors alone," Agnes had said a couple days ago. It had been agreed then that the family would walk into the tavern with Laura.
When Laura stepped into the room crowded with children and they all greeted her excitedly, she thought what a difference a short time had made in them. They had lost their shaggy appearance, and the hungry look was gone from their eyes. Their faces had been scrubbed shiny clean, and the boys all wore trimmed hair. The donated clothes they wore had been neatly ironed.
The biggest change was in Agnes. The attractiveness that had once been hers was slowly returning. Her new hairstyle softened the thinness of her features and brought to attention her soft, magnificent brown eyes. The beaten look in them was almost gone.
Taylor's birthday party had already begun when Laura and the Morses arrived. A dance set had just finished when they stepped inside, and the cold air that rushed in behind them brought everyone's eyes swinging their way. The women, smiles on their faces, came forward to welcome Agnes, elbowing Laura out of the way.
Two men saw that happen and neither one liked it. It pained Fletch to see her ostracized by her onetime friends. He started to step forward, to buffer their harsh treatment of Laura, then stopped. Hunter O'Hara was making his way to her, his lips curved in a wide smile. Fletch turned away when Laura smiled back at Hunter.
The three musicians struck up another tune, but when Hunter would have swung her out onto the floor, Laura hung back. "I must speak to P… Taylor first. Wish him a happy birthday."
She had decided not to surprise Taylor with the celebration, but to give him warning so that he could spruce himself up a bit. Which he had done, she had noticed earlier as he talked to the friends and neighbors who had gathered around him. He had managed to get his splinted leg into a new pair of trousers and pull on his favorite blue flannel shirt.
He doesn't look sixty, she thought, or act like it. He still had the muscle tone of a man much younger and had all his hair, although it was mostly gray now. And she mustn't forget Butterfly. He still had a love life.
It's too bad, Laura thought as she and Hunter approached Taylor, that Butterfly isn't by his side tonight. "Happy birthday, Taylor." Laura placed a kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you, daughter," Taylor said, drawing many curious looks. Unaware that he had erred, he shook hands with Hunter when the bartender offered his best wishes. They chatted awhile; then Hunter noted that three men were waiting for drinks at the bar.
He took Laura's arm and escorted her across the room where Maida made room for her on the bench. "Remember, the next dance is mine," he said to Laura, then returned to the bar and began dispensing drinks to the thirsty men. They had complained at first about being served only hard cider, then had grumblingly agreed it was only proper that nothing stronger was being served with a lot of children running around.
Justine and Tommy came over to sit with Maida and Laura, and after a while Agnes managed to get away from those who had snubbed her friend and joined the small group of Laura's supporters. In a short time Daniel appeared with a tray of sweet cider which had been provided for the women. Soon they had their own private little party going. Their laughter at some joke would ring out, making the young single women look at them with envy as they were kept at their mothers' sides.
Sometimes Agnes's laughter pealed out louder than the others'. Her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes made the older bachelors watch her with interest. But when the music started up again and the men approached her, asking her to dance, she refused.
"Why don't you dance with them, Agnes?" Laura asked. "They're all nice, decent men."
Agnes shivered. "I don't think I'll ever be able to get that close to a man again, Laura."
"If Hunter O'Hara asks you to dance, please oblige him. You will have no aversion to him. He's the kindest, gentlest man you could ever meet."
Agnes hesitated for several seconds before answering, "If he asks me, I'll try, just to please you, Laura."
A minute later Hunter was pulling Laura to her feet, swinging her among the other dancers who had taken to the floor. As they circled around, dodging stamping feet and whirling bodies, they smiled and talked and laughed. The watching women raised their eyebrows and made remarks behind their hands.
Nearing the end of a waltz, Laura looked up at Hunter and asked, "Will you ask Agnes to dance the next set?"
"But she turned down the other men."
"I don't think she'll refuse you." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "I told her what a grand fellow you are and that you wouldn't step on her feet."
Hunter threw back his head and laughed. "I'm convinced that you've got Irish in you." He gave her a tight, affectionate hug that didn't go unnoticed by Fletch, who had seldom taken his eyes off Laura since she arrived.
"I'd better get the hell out of here before I beat him to a pulp," Fletch muttered to himself and yanked his jacket off the wall. He opened the store and got a bottle of whiskey, and left.
When Hunter asked Agnes to dance, she accepted, though it was obvious she was a little nervous about it. Holding her loosely, keeping several inches between them, Hunter was surprised how well she danced, how light she was on her feet as he swung her around the room. He thought how very pretty she would be with a few pounds of weight added to her small frame. He talked quietly to her as one would a frightened deer. He spoke of their long, hard winter and complimented her on how nicely her children behaved. Once he even coaxed a shy, timid smile from her.
When the set was over, Hunter led Agnes back to where Laura was waiting and thanked her graciously for the dance. When he and Laura were back on the dance floor, he said, "Did you know that Agnes is from Georgia?"
"No, I didn't I was of the opinion she was from the South, though, from her soft speech, the way she talks."
"She's so frail looking it makes a man want to take care of her."
"Maybe some men would feel that way, but certainly her dead husband didn't. He treated her shamefully."
"That beast should have been shot minutes after he was born," Hunter gritted through his teeth. Agnes danced with Hunter twice more but refuse
d the other men who tried again to get her to dance with them.
When the party broke up at midnight and Agnes began gathering her brood, Hunter walked over to her. "I'll walk you and the children home." When she demurred, he said forcefully, "It's not safe for you and the young ones to be walking alone in the woods."
Laura, along with others, lifted an eyebrow when Hunter escorted Agnes and her family through the door. Most of the women asked each other what did that handsome Southerner see in skinny Agnes Morse? They didn't know, as Laura knew, that Hunter had recognized a kindred spirit in Agnes's beautiful, haunted eyes. They both had wounds that went deep into their souls.
Everyone trooped out of the tavern, and Laura said good night to Maida and Justine and walked the short distance home. She found Jolie asleep in her cradle and Bertha asleep in the rocker. She gently shook the madam awake.
"How was the party?" Bertha asked at the end of a wide yawn. "Did you have a good time?"
"It was a fine get-together. Taylor enjoyed himself, visiting with his friends again."
"What about you? Did you have a good time?"
"Oh yes. Hunter and I danced a lot." Bertha said no more. Laura's tone had told her what she wanted to know. The young woman would have preferred to stay home.
Later, lying in bed, Laura wondered why Fletch had left the party so early, and why he hadn't danced with anyone. Milly was there, dancing with any man who asked her. Had that made him angry? Jealous?
Before Laura fell asleep she hoped that Milly gave him the same pain he had given her when he called their daughter a bastard.
Chapter Sixteen
Laura turned the calendar to February. The new year was a month old. She sighed. She couldn't see that her life would be any different in the new year than it had been before. She would still be married to Pa, each day slipping into another, nothing changing.
The years ahead looked very bleak. She would always stand on the sideline, watching the changes that would come into her friends' lives as they raised their children, wives and husbands working together, loving each other, making love at night.