The Milch Bride

by J. R. Biery

  Jackson watched for a minute, then without hesitating, began to remove his shirt. “Scoot on over you two – this is my side of the bed.”

  Alarmed, Hattie scooted over and lifted J.D. up.

  “Do you need to get, get your clothes, so you’ll have things to wear in the morning?”

  He stared at her and she saw the little twitch in his jaw, the one that told her how he resented being bossed. But instead of yelling at her, he nodded.

  “Good idea. I need to get it all, since I’m moving back in. Will there be room in the dresser for my stuff?”

  “I have my things in one drawer, I’ll get them out.”

  “Right, and add them to the wardrobe.”

  “But the wardrobe has Donna’s things in it.”

  “They’re all your things now.”

  Hattie put J. D. in the crib. He was so roly-poly, she never left him on the bed alone. She knew he would fuss if she left him lying down, so she stood him up, holding onto the crib side. He pulled against the rails and squealed in excitement as it made a rattling noise.

  Jackson brought in the laundry basket and emptied the clean clothes, mostly unfolded onto the bed. “Grabbed these for you.”

  “Thanks.” Hattie smiled at his retreating back. Now the bed was covered with what she’d taken out of the dresser and the new clothes.

  She opened the wardrobe and each of the dresser drawers on the left. Slowly she added her coarse cotton drawers and chemises to Donna’s silky, embroidered ones. She hung her black blouse and skirt on a padded hanger, amid the brightly colored and ruffled clothes. When she’d finished, she quickly folded the new clothes, mostly underwear and denim jeans, and hurriedly stowed them away in the dresser before he returned.

  She heard raised voices in the hall. Stealthily, she cracked the door to listen.

  “Reckon if that’s how you feel, I’ll just move back to the bunkhouse.”

  “James, you know there’s no reason for you to do that, but suit yourself.”

  “I think you need to let me go get Rubye, now her objections have been taken care of.”

  “No. She’s the one who left. Let her ask us if she wants to come back. Hattie may not want her back, after the harsh things she had to say. Besides, between the two of you, the work all seems to be getting done.”

  “Yeah, well I didn’t sign on to be cook and bottle washer. I’d rather wrangle cows.”

  Jackson gave him a hard look, “Yes, you did.”

  James ducked his head as though he’d hit him.

  Hattie closed the door quietly, embarrassed to see James yield. She’d learned more than enough. Not only was Jackson going to sleep in her bed, but they would be alone in the house.

  Gratefully, she stared at J.D. “Stay awake, will you partner.”

  It was several minutes before Jackson came in, this time carrying another laundry basket and a set of saddlebags as well as an armful of shirts on hangers. He handed Hattie the hangers and nodded toward the wardrobe. She sprang to her feet and squeezed them in among the ruffled clothes.

  She watched as he unloaded the saddlebags, setting his shaving mug/soap and razor blade beside the washbowl and pitcher.

  For the first time she absorbed the fact that he was always clean shaven. She also noted the dark hair, curling a little long on his neck. She had always assumed J.D. had his mother’s coloring, but she realized that both his parents had the same dark brown hair and blue eyes. When he turned toward her, she felt her mouth grow dry as he again removed his shirt, this time his eyes locked on hers.

  “Where is your sleep shirt?”she croaked.

  Jackson hung the shirt on the post, and then reached for the top button of his Levis.

  “I don’t wear one.”

  As he unbuttoned the second button, she realized he wasn’t wearing long johns either. Panicked, she scooted across the bed and backed up against the wardrobe.

  “You promised…”

  “I plan on keeping it. It might help you a lot if you could turn your head while I get undressed and into bed.”

  Hattie turned around and stared down at her bare feet peeking from under the edge of the gown. She commanded her eyes to behave, but even terrified, she wanted to look at him. From his handsome face to the heavy muscles in his arms and bare chest, he was beautiful. She shivered from the effort.

  Staring at his bride, Jackson tried not to laugh. The small figure in the big gown made him think of a startled rabbit. Frozen and quivering in the mistake that standing still would render her invisible.

  He flipped back the comforter, settled in, grinning at J.D., who was watching both with complete fascination. When Jackson grinned, the baby laughed. “It’s safe,” he called, and Hattie moved gingerly to the bed, barely lifting the covers to slip inside. She lay back rigidly, her eyes focused on the ceiling, her hands folded on the edge of the cover.

  He hesitated, and then smiled. “Ready for me to blow out the light?”

  She gripped the edge of the quilt tightly, pulling it up under her chin, then nodded.

  Jackson rolled to sit up and blew out the lamp. There was complete darkness and quiet for a minute, and then J.D. let out an ear-piercing scream.

  Jackson hauled him out of his crib as Hattie sat forward. He tucked the baby against him and for a moment, J.D. was happy, just feeling his naked chest and shoulders.

  Hattie lay back, relaxing for the moment, glad that J.D. lay between them. She relaxed even more as she heard Jackson crooning to the baby, nuzzling the soft curls on his head and along his neck. J.D. was thrilled, grabbing at hair and nose, trying to hold onto his daddy in every possible way. It was several minutes before he began his downward squirm, searching for a full breast and milk.

  “Ouch,” Jackson called out and Hattie laughed.

  J.D. made a little whine of protest and Hattie rolled onto her side to take the fussy baby. Jackson rolled on his side to face her as she slipped the gown off her shoulder in the dark room and began to nurse the baby.

  “Does he bite you?” It was the same question that had embarrassed them the other night in front of the men. This time she surprised him with her quick answer.

  “He’s only tried a couple of times; he’s usually too busy nursing.”

  He extended a hand to play with the soft curls of brown hair on the sweet smelling head and J.D. batted him away. When he touched him again, the baby latched onto the brown hand and pulled it lower. Jackson lay, smiling, totally relaxed and happy. At the end of his knuckles he could feel the cotton of the gown, a soft thin barrier between his fingers and her warm skin. Slowly he let his eyes close, lulled by the rhythmic sounds of suckling and relaxed breathing.

  He came awake quicker than he went to sleep. A growing warmth against his leg let him know he was not alone on his cot in the study or on Rubye’s hard bed in the narrow room at the end of the house. He opened his eyes to see his beautiful son still asleep, his little mouth pursed and making sucking motions at the air. Hattie had rolled over on her back and her open gown revealed the vee of her breastbone, not the breasts he had hoped to glimpse. The even rise of her chest let him know she was asleep – but he figured there were only minutes before the cooling diaper would wake J.D. who would wake her. He wondered if he could reach a diaper and change him first, then decided it would be easier to just remove the one he wore. Slowly he went to work, tugging the soggy diaper off and dropping it in the pail beside the bed.

  Amazingly, they both remained asleep. Later, he awakened again, this time when he heard the young rooster proudly saluting the morning with one final cock-a-doodle do. Hattie opened her eyes and J.D. made a little face and gave a single high-pitched wail.

  Instead of rolling toward him, Hattie lifted the sleepy baby, kissed his face, and then rolled so her back was to Jackson before moving her gown enough to let the baby nurse.

  Feeling cheated, Jackson rolled to curve around them both, and then he realized his mistake. One touch against her slim hips and he was fully
aroused. Even worse, Hattie was instantly aware of his presence and his condition. He knew it, because she slipped from the bed, J.D. held before her chest. The boy looked over his shoulder and gave Jackson a dirty look for spoiling his morning meal and cuddles.

  “It’s not what you think … it is … but I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  She looked more irate than J.D.

  Jackson realized it was time for him to make a retreat but he had a very large problem.

  “Hattie, I’m sorry. Its morning …” At her angry scowl, he shrugged. “You’ll need to spin around.”

  She lifted the complaining baby to her shoulder and a humiliated Jackson climbed out of bed, quickly pulling on jeans and shirt. Carrying his boots and hat, he padded out of the room, holding his pants up with one hand.

  In the quiet room he dressed and rubbed his chin. Donna had hated for him to go unshaven. If Hattie felt the same, she’d need to allow him back in the bedroom. Fat chance of that. He headed into the kitchen and started the fire. He put coffee on and took the empty pails and headed to the barn.

  James Boyd was already on the job, one pail full of milk beside him.

  “I thought you quit.”

  “Nope, not until I’m replaced. You know me better than that.”

  Jackson stared at the old cowhand. Forty-two or three, some old man. But ranching did that to a person. A rough season, an injury or two, suddenly you found yourself on the chuck wagon instead of heading up the crew chasing the cows.

  “How long have I known you, boss?”

  “Since I was a sprout, about like J.D., about as long as I’ve known anyone.”

  “That’s our first real fight.”

  Jackson laughed, rubbed his chin, and laughed again. The startled cow moved away and James barely caught the pail. Jackson moved the other pail out of reach.

  “Now look, I can remember the time you nearly broke my jaw, the time you did break my arm.”

  “I don’t mean physical fight, I mean hurting words fight.”

  Jackson stared at him a long time. “Women?”

  James nodded, “Women.”

  “Yeah, that’s always what comes between good friends. I’m sorry. It’s just Rubye is so bossy, like us, and she spent a good deal of time keeping Hattie in her place. I just think if she is the one asking to come back, it might let them establish a better relationship.”

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t let her come back. I know how she was, not fair to the girl at all. I just, well, she’s got no real home.”

  Jackson looked around at the horses, all leaning over their stalls, ears perked forward as though intently listening. “None of my business …but why haven’t you ever proposed to Rubye? Everyone knows you love her.”

  James surprised him by offering no denials. “What have I got to offer a wife, a broken down saddle tramp like me? Naw, it wouldn’t be fair to a fine woman like her.”

  “We’ll see her Sunday at church. We’ll go from there.” Jackson switched the pail to his left, then held out his right hand and waited. James set down his bucket and shook.

  “I guess I better get the eggs, let you finish this up.”

  When he came back to the kitchen, Hattie was dressed in the same outfit as yesterday. J.D. lay on a folded quilt on the floor, playing with his pony and carved wooden cow, the little lamb nearby. He could smell bacon frying and biscuits baking and was astonished to see the table already set. He set the bucket of eggs on the counter.

  She pointed at the eggs, “Count seems a little low.”

  “Oh, guess it could be the new surroundings, put ‘em off a little in their laying.”

  “They finished the chicken coop?” She gave a little clap of excitement.

  “Sure did, you’ll have to inspect it soon. Boys are pretty proud of the job, but we’ll make changes if you have any suggestions.”

  She grabbed a trivet and the handle of the oatmeal but he took both and carried them out to the table, along with the molasses. Hattie added grease to the skillet, then cracked the first four eggs into the pan, waited, then when the edges started to curl, raised the pan to flip all four. In minutes the men were piling in, each taking time to check the baby. He raised both legs in the air, then settled on one to twist so he could chew on his toes.

  “Pretty slick trick,” Cliff said. “Bet you can’t do that Hank.”

  “Bet you’re right, but my bones aren’t still stretchy like his.”

  James bustled in with the fresh milk, hurrying into the kitchen to filter it into the churn, then going down to bring cold milk and butter up.

  J.D. seemed to realize he was his last chance. He rolled onto his belly, arched up and made demands that someone come back to lift him up.

  Jackson grinned and went to pull him up into his arms, twirling around like a big bird for a second. J.D. squealed in pleasure.

  Hattie handed James the platters of bacon and biscuits, carried the plate of eggs herself. She served two or three to each man, then put the platter down in front of Jackson. He took a biscuit, buttered it and poured a puddle of molasses on his plate to dunk the bread in.

  “Mighty fine, Mrs. Harper, mighty fine vittles,” Cliff said, as Hattie settled in the chair beside Jackson and took J.D. into her own lap, smiling at the complement, aware of her new position in the house.

  “You know,” Hank said, “I purely do like ranching chickens, except for that scrawny going-to-be-rooster.”

  Tony laughed. “He sure was cock-of the-roost last night. Soon as they all went in he set about sorting them out and claiming top perch.”

  When everyone had been assigned tasks and sent off to work, Jackson held Cliff back. “You ever find any leads in town about our vanishing rustlers?”

  “Nary a sign.”

  “I figure someone got them on a stage.”

  “Yeah, James, Hank and I were talking about that, how to find out. I told them the station master’s daughter might be able to find out, if she had the right incentive. She’s an old, buck-tooth gal, looks like her papa, but she’s mighty sweet on Tony. She’s always trying to block him in the aisle at church, main reason he doesn’t like to go, according to Hank.”

  “What did Tony say?”

  “I can’t repeat it in mixed company, but it boiled down to, no.”

  Jackson grinned. “I can telegraph the marshal, have him make inquiries in Abilene, tell him what we suspect. But pretty much everything sent gets seen by the sheriff and Charlie Dawson. I hate to muddy the waters in my own drinking hole.”

  “Know what you mean. Maybe I could ride on into Waco, send a wire from there, maybe check on their owl-hoots while I’m in town. It would take a day or two away and maybe a little pocket money.”

  Jackson smiled, drew out a gold eagle and told him to fill his saddle bags with biscuits and jerky.

  James Boyd came out from the kitchen. “You know Rubye’s being at Dawson’s house, she might be able to learn something, that is, if I could get away a little. Wouldn’t need no gold piece to go calling, neither.”

  Jackson nodded. “Take the wagon, pick up supplies and mail while you’re in town. I’ll see if Hattie needs anything, make sure she can handle lunch alone.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When he found Hattie, she was in the side yard washing clothes. He noticed she had J.D. out on a quilt on the porch, with one of the cow dogs standing guard duty. When the baby would start to roll, the dog would move so the boy ended up alongside him, where J.D. would lustily grab fur and ears until the dog would nudge him and the baby would roll in a different direction.

  It wasn’t the best solution, but he noticed the slight bruise on the boy’s forehead where he’d already taken a tumble this morning. With her keeping watch, he guessed the big yellow dog was the best choice.

  He walked to where she was rinsing and wringing clothes. “Hattie?”

  She turned to eye him coolly and looked past him to the dog. “He always seemed to be watching him anyway, so I put hi
m to work when Jackie tilted the cradle over. I know it looks bad, but he only cried a minute and I don’t think it’s going to raise a knot.

  “Sam, the dog’s name is Sam.”

  At his name, the dog sat up, his mouth open in a grin. Hattie smiled, for the first time this strange morning. J. D. squealed and the big dog flopped back down, still grinning, to let the baby curl into him.

  “What did you think of the chicken coop?”

  “I haven’t seen it yet.”

  He growled. He and three hands had spent two days working in the heat to get that job done, just to please her. “Leave that and come take a look.”

  “I’m almost done. If I leave it, something might spill the clothes out and I’d have to start again.”

  He picked up the basket, surprising her, and began hanging the clothes, checking to see how she had hung the others.

  She wrung out her dark blouse and followed the basket and Jackson to the line. “Here, I have to hurry before Jackie starts crying.” Snapping the blouse out sharply, then quickly pinning it to overlap the corner of the shirt he had already pinned, she shook the tail of his shirt out without pulling it loose from the pin.

  He laughed and handed her the next piece, moving to keep up with her as she made quick work of hanging their clothes side by side on the line. Jackson felt a sudden tightness in his chest as he stared at the dog, the baby, and the slim blonde beside him. She tugged at the last piece in his hands, feeling her breath catch at the tender look in his eyes as he stared down at her.

  “Jackie?”

  “I’m used to calling J.D., Jackie, when it’s just the two of us. J.D. seems so grown up for such a little boy.”

  He shrugged in acknowledgement. “I don’t know if you should trust Sam that much, with Jackie. He’s great at herding reluctant heifers and surly bulls, I’ve seen him back down wolves, but I’m not sure if he might not snap at the baby.”

  She left the washtubs to empty later and hurried to the porch, squatting to rub the head and ears of the rough yellow dog, before picking up the happy baby. The dog whined and raised his head to lick the bare foot of the boy, making him giggle and squirm, trying to reach the dog.