by Pamela Morsi
Baby-Paisley nodded with understanding.
"That deer tail's always brought me luck, but I thought to myself, now that boy of Paisley's, he really should have this. That's what his daddy would have wanted. So I brought it for you, son. It's a gift."
"Oh, Mama! Mama!" The little boy began to jump up and down excitedly. "It's mine, Mama. It was my daddy's and now it's mine!"
"That's wonderful, sweetheart," she said, a little less than enthusiastically. Then slowly, like a snail crawling up a spicebush, the stalk of uncertainty began to bend with the weight of joy. Eben Baxley had pleased her son, he'd made the boy smile, she wanted to believe it, so she did.
"Thank you so much, Eben," she said. "It is a wonderful, wonderful gift for Baby-Paisley."
"Where can I put it, Mama? I wanna see it always. Always," he said, beginning to hop around excitedly as he held his treasure next to his heart. "Where can I put it?"
"Well, maybe we can hang it up here in the house," she suggested.
"But I want Gobby Weston to see it, Mama," he said, still bouncing around the room. "I want everybody to see it. My daddy kilt a deer and I got its tail."
"Why don't you wear it on your hat like Dan'l Boone," Eben suggested. "Maybe your mama could just sew it on there and everybody could see it every time they see you."
The little fellow's eyes widened. "Yes, yes I'll wear it like Dan'l Boone. My daddy kilt a deer like Dan'l Boone. Yes, Mama, pweese, pweese."
"Well, all right," she said, smiling at her son lovingly. "Bring me your hat and I'll sew it on."
Althea reached for her sewing basket. She was happy. Eben was, too. The little contrivance was innocent enough, he reminded himself. It wouldn't hurt the boy, any boy, to think well of his daddy. And it wouldn't hurt his suit with Althea if she saw that the boy took to him. He liked children. He could be a good father. At least he knew what a good father was supposed to be. The exact opposite of the one that he'd had. She wanted to raise the boy her own way. That was all right with him. He'd keep friendly with the child and let the raising be her concern.
Althea positioned the deer tail to the hem of the little boy's gray glove hat, allowing it to hang down along the back of the neck. It was not exactly like Daniel Boone's coonskin, but it was eye-catching and the little boy was thrilled. Almost dancing around the room, he rattled on excitedly about his daddy, his deer tail, and Daniel Boone.
"No!"
The word spoken loud and forcefully had emerged from Jesse Best. It startled all three of them.
Althea, Baby-Paisley, and Eben all stared at him in surprise. He was staring at the deer tail against the glove hat. His expression was foreboding and fearful.
"Don't put the deer tail on his hat!" Jesse stated emphatically.
"What's wrong, Jesse? What is it?" Althea looked at him questioningly.
"Don't put the deer tail on the hat," he said again.
'The boy wants it on the hat," Eben told him.
"It shouldn't be there," Jesse said. "Don't put the deer tail on the hat."
"Why not?" Althea asked him.
"I . . ." Jesse hesitated uncertainly. He looked at Althea searchingly. Clearly he was upset, but he was puzzled, too, and frustrated. "I don't know, but—"
"Oh, good Lord, Jesse," Eben dismissed him arrogantly. "You're telling Althea what to do, but you don't know why."
"You don't think he should wear the deer tail on his hat, Jesse?" Althea clarified his protestation.
"It ain't good," Jesse said. "It's wrong. It's not . . . I ... I don't know why, but it ain't good."
"You're not making any sense," Eben protested, anger building up in him. Obviously Jesse didn't believe the deer-killing story and he didn't want the boy to have the tail. Sure it was a lie, but the lie wouldn't hurt the boy. He'd paid the Broody brothers enough to keep them quiet and nobody else knew the truth except Paisley Winsloe and he wasn't likely to come back from the dead to dispute Eben's word. This was a great plan to win Althea over. Once the boy accepted him, she would, too. He wasn't about to let Simple Jesse Best foul this up for him.
"It's the boy's gift," Eben stated sternly. "He can do with it what he wishes."
"It ain't good to wear it on his hat," Jesse said, his tone certain, but his expression furrowed with worry and puzzlement.
"I want the deer tail on my hat," Baby-Paisley announced. "It's mine. I wanna wear it on my hat."
Jesse shook his head. "No, Baby-Paisley, no," he said.
The little boy stuck out his lip mutinously. "I thought you were my friend," he said to Jesse accusingly. "I wanna wear the deer tail on my hat."
Silently he appealed to Althea. With helplessness, she glanced once more at Jesse and then at Eben and at her son.
"I don't know, Baby-Paisley," she said. "If Jesse thinks ..."
The little boy's face was crestfallen. He clasped his little hands together in a semblance of prayful supplication. "Please, Mama," he pleaded. "Please, please, please."
Surprisingly, Eben could feel the child's hurt. He wished for an instant that he hadn't ever bought the deer tail, then he pushed the thought away. It wasn't Eben that was hurting the boy here.
"I can't believe you'd listen to Simple Jesse Best about what to do with your own child," he said to Althea, almost angrily. "I hear all the time that you won't let anyone tell you what to do with your boy. Now I find out that you'll take advice from the lowest thinker on the mountain."
"I value Jesse's opinion," Althea answered defensively.
"More than your son's happiness?"
"Of course not!"
"Please, Mama, please, please," the little boy continued to beg.
Althea weakened once more. She looked at him uncertainly, and then back at Jesse.
"Do you have any reason why Baby-Paisley shouldn't wear the deer tail on his hat, Jesse?"
"I ... I just know that it's something bad," Jesse answered, shaking his head.
"It's something bad because it's something I gave to the boy," Eben snapped angrily. "He doesn't like me getting between him and you two," he said to Althea. "Can't you see that? He's just angry because he wishes it were him that was going to marry you and not me or Oather."
"That's not . . . it's ... I don't know why but—"
"All right, Jesse," Eben continued ruthlessly. “Tell the truth, now. We know you kissed Althea. You want to marry her, too, don't you? Deny that. Deny it if you can."
Jesse stumbled over his words.
"Deny it! Deny that you're jealous," Eben taunted once more.
"I . . . I . . ." Jesse's flush was guilt-ridden.
"You're just jealous 'cause you can't have her." Eben's tone dropped to an accusing whisper. "You've kissed her and pressed up against her and probably dreamt about her at night, but you can't have her, not ever."
Jesse's obvious culpability stunned him to silence.
"You can't have her," Eben went on cruelly. "You can't have her. You can't have the boy, you can't have any of it.
You can't have what you want, so you're trying to take something away from Baby-Paisley."
"No, no, it's not that."
"It is that and you can't deny it!"
"Stop badgering him," Althea snapped at Eben.
Silence fell all around them.
Baby-Paisley's expression was still pleading.
She looked at her son and then she turned to Jesse. Her voice was calm, her words coaxing.
"Jesse, can you think of any reason, any real reason why Baby-Paisley can't wear the deer tail on his hat?"
Jesse was determinedly gathering his composure. Eben had shamed him with the unspoken truth. Of course Jesse wanted Althea. Jesse was male and human and he probably got himself to sleep at night pretending he was between her thighs. Eben could almost pity the fellow, if he hadn't come to cross-purposes with him.
Jesse spoke finally, his words slow and certain. "Something is not good about it, Miss Althea," he said. "I don't know what, but something is not right. I
know it."
The two looked at each other for a long time. Althea and Jesse, just staring at each other as if they were communicating on some other level than the one of words. The moment dragged on. It dragged on so long that Eben felt an unexpected spark of annoyance twist up inside him, but he managed to hold his tongue.
"Please, Mama." The little beseeching voice was barely a whisper.
Althea reached out and straightened her son's bright blond curls. "All right, sweetheart," she said at last. "I'll put the tail on the hat."
"Whoopee!" Baby-Paisley cried out excitedly. "I got my daddy's deer tail. My hat'll be like Dan'l Boone!" He began to bounce around the room once more.
Eben couldn't help but grin at the youngster. He felt a little like dancing himself. He didn't know why he was so pleased, but he was. It was as if he had been in a kill-devil fawnch and he was the only fellow left standing.
Still smiling, he turned his attention to Althea. She was still looking at Jesse.
"You're just confused on this one, Jesse," she told him. "I suppose it will look funny, but there isn't really anything wrong with Baby Paisley wearing a deer tail on his hat."
The big, simple man nodded, but he didn't look convinced.
Chapter Seventeen
Hog killing, by its very nature, was a social event. But when the word got around that Althea Winsloe, with the help of Jesse Best, and only two weeks left before she picked a husband, was about to slaughter her hog, folks had to be actually told to keep their distance.
With both her suitors and their families intent upon being there, Granny Piggott felt called upon to limit the gawkers to herself alone.
"I'll be telling any news that needs to be told," she assured the uninvited and disappointed.
Beulah Winsloe, of course, could not be kept away. And she insisted that her husband and her brother be there to ensure that Eben Baxley was shown to good advantage.
Buell Phillips, hearing that Beulah would be present, showed up with his wife and his daughter. Even if his foolish son, Oather, was not allowing him to direct the courting, he was determined to see that the young man didn't ruin his chances.
Because Jesse was in the middle of things, and because the Bests also had two hogs to kill, Onery, Roe, Meggie, and Little Edith made their way to Althea Winsloe's place that morning.
Jesse was especially glad to have his family with him.
"I don't want to forget anything," he told Roe. "But I don't want any of the other folks reminding me either."
His brother-in-law nodded, understanding. "I'll be right next to you, Jesse," he promised. "Of course, I'm no expert on this either."
Jesse grinned at him. Roe had been all over the world and knew about things that people on Marrying Stone couldn't even imagine. But he was not well versed in farming, hunting, or the way of getting by on the mountain.
It was just a little before dawn when they arrived at the Widow Winsloe's. Three separate cook fires illuminated the place in the gray light. It was a perfect day for hog butchering, clear and still. It was cool enough to keep the meat, but not so cold as to endanger anything to freeze. Buell and Beulah were already on the premises, their respective families in tow. Tom and Orv, with some assistance from Oather, had the fires going. Althea was pouring hot coffee into every cup raised in her direction. Mavis and her mother were busy salting the various pails and pans that were to be used. Granny Piggott set in her rocking chair, watching the activities and offering advice.
"Well, I see the Bests are finally here," she commented loudly. "I know that this tardiness is your fault, Onery. Them children is Piggotts through and through and Piggotts are always on time for the work. Ain't that right, Oather?"
The young man smiled, clearly pleased. He gave a quick glance toward Beulah, whose face was a mask of furious indignation, and didn't bother to answer. The statement was not meant for him or the Bests. Its purpose, in the event that anyone failed to notice, was to point out that Eben Baxley, true to his typical behavior, was nowhere in sight.
Jesse missed the implication and felt called upon to defend his family.
"Pa's leg ain't no good in this weather," he pointed out. "And we come farther than the Phillipses or the Winsloes."
"Well, we weren't about to start until we could see what we are doing," Althea assured him quickly. "Do you want some coffee?"
Jesse nodded and fished his cup out of his towsack. Miss Althea's coffee was much superior to his sister Meggie's and well worth the wait.
Visiting went into full swing once more as the women began discussing the tasks of the day and debating the proposed sausage recipes.
The men's concern was more for the weather. There was a cold spell coming. Onery Best could feel it in his bad leg. A real norther, maybe a blizzard, he told his listeners. But it was hard to tell how far off it might be. It was a good thing that pork didn't require the hanging and drying of other meat.
Baby-Paisley, bright-eyed with the excitement of the morning, hurried over to Edith Best. Since she was the only child to play with, her status as a girl was less of a detriment. She'd brought her doll, Matilda. Baby-Paisley showed appropriate scorn for such a plaything, then proceeded to tell both of them the latest he'd heard of the adventures of One-Wing the Chicken.
Jesse wandered among the groups of chattering people. He was still a bit of a scandal, having admitted to kissing Miss Althea. But most of those gathered had little fear or revulsion for him.
He watched Baby-Paisley and Little Edith playing together in the yard. They were both so smart and happy and laughing. It gave him a warm feeling inside.
As Baby-Paisley turned to run in the other direction, Jesse spotted the deer tail attached to his hat. Jesse's smiled faded. There was still something wrong about that. Something that pulled at him, worried him. But Althea didn't think so and Eben didn't think so. And Baby-Paisley did truly enjoy having a hat like Daniel Boone. Purposefully Jesse pushed back his misgivings and turned his attention elsewhere among the crowd.
He walked around and through the people gathered, catching one sentence here, and another there. He made no attempt to join in conversation. He liked to talk with one person. When it was too many people talking at once, it was just too hard to keep up with what was being said.
Jesse's heedless circuitous path around the yard had him ending up, as he often did, very near Miss Althea. He closed his eyes and breathed in the so familiar fragrance of her. It was as dear to him as wildflowers in bloom on the meadow, or the vague milky memory of the scent he recalled of his mother.
But the smell of Althea Winsloe had a new effect upon him. Since the wonderful kiss they had shared the whole of her fragrance seemed almost a part of his own self. And something about it elicited a sultry sensual reaction. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He thought of the taste of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the nearness of her round woman parts so close to his own.
The stirring began in the front of his trousers again. He wanted to run his hand across the plaguey ache, but this was neither the time nor the place. He was not alone, he was in the middle of folks. Touching yourself when people were around was rude. His sister Meggie didn't have to tell him that for him to know it. And he was here to work, not to daydream. His intention was to walk to the water trough and cool himself before he acted up any more. The words he heard between Mavis Phillips and Miss Althea stopped him. They had moved away from the rest of the women and except for Jesse behind them, their conversation was completely private.
"Have you decided which one you are going to pick?" Mavis asked very quietly.
"I haven't decided," Althea answered her.
"My brother ... my brother is a wonderful man," Mavis told her. "I know that he will always treat you well."
"I'm sure he will."
"But you're leaning toward Baxley, aren't you?" Mavis said.
"I truly haven't decided," Althea assured her. "But, Eben, well, he's not so bad as I once thought. And he is ve
ry good with Baby-Paisley."
"Oather likes children, too."
"Yes, it's obvious that he does," Althea agreed. "But, well, honestly, choosing Eben might make Beulah less angry with me. And your father . . . Well, your father can be rather absolute in his thinking. One in-law like that seems to be enough."
Mavis's expression was fraught with worry. "Althea, I can't really explain this, but it's very important that you marry my brother. He's the kind of man who can be whatever you want him to be. Please, please, don't discard him out of hand."
"I haven't, Mavis," Althea assured her. "I told you, I really haven't made up my mind. And I'll think about what you've said."
"Thank you. And, Althea, I just hope that you will be happy," she said.
"It's good to hear someone wants me to be happy," Althea told her. "I've begun to think all that anyone wants is for me to be married."
When everyone was full of coffee and the party atmosphere clearly in swing, Granny Piggott broke into the revelry.
"Who's going to do the killing?" she asked.
"Orv usually kills our hogs," Beulah announced after she gave one last glance toward the empty path. Eben Baxley had yet to arrive.
Her husband's eyes widened as he heard his name. "I thought Baxley would be here and—"
"Orv can hit them and Tom can stick them," Beulah interrupted quickly. Her unhappiness with Eben's failure to appear was well hidden. Clearly she was unable to control young Baxley as she wanted. It was an ever-piercing thorn in the woman's side. "Go ahead, Orv. You and Tom will kill them," she said.
The two aging men glanced at each other uneasily. Hog killing required the strength and agility of youth.
Tom's expression was doleful. Orv cleared his throat uneasily. "I ain't so steady or strong as I once was," he admitted.
"I brought my hammer," Jesse answered. "I think I can get them in one blow apiece, if you want me to try?" He directed the question to Althea. It was, after all, her farm and her animal.
"I've brought the .22," Buell proclaimed a bit pompously. "That is the modern way and would be just as quick and a lot more sure than Jesse's hammer."