by Pamela Morsi
There were whores in Muskogee that were so hot they could scorch the hair off a man's chest . . .
"No, I want you with me," he said firmly, to convince both of them. "You can help me pick out the wood and it'll do us both good to get away for a few days and see something new."
"What about your pigs?" she asked. "There won't be anyone here to take care of them."
"Jones from Sandy Creek is always willing to watch things for me around here and I can let them out to forage. They do pretty good for themselves when I'm gone. They eat those acorns from the red oak and then go about distributing new red oaks all over the farm."
Hannah blushed at the indelicacy of this statement and then couldn't seem to stop herself from giggling. Her laughter warmed Henry Lee and made him glad that he had decided to take her with him.
A light summer rain shimmered down outside Hannah's window as she awakened early on Sunday morning. With a groan of pain, she rolled over onto her back and clutched her belly with her hands. She was one of those “lucky” women whose monthly visit of Eve's curse was never a surprise. Several hours prior to its onset, Hannah would fall victim to terrible cramps that would have kept a lesser woman in bed for the day. Hannah was, however, made of sterner stuff and considered the pain an annoying nuisance. This morning she wished that she could simply lie abed for a few hours and give in to self-indulgence. But it was Sunday morning, and to her knowledge, the only valid excuse for missing Sunday church service was death, and then only if it were your own.
Shaking off the desire to wallow in her own discomfort, she rolled out of bed. Searching through the drawers and petticoats among her clothing, she found her monthly paraphernalia and began girding herself for the onslaught of nature. The belt fit around her waist, secured by hook and eye. Running from the center front, through the legs and up the back was a snugly fitting, three-inch-wide band. The interior of the band was constructed to form a natural pocket to hold securely the folded strips of cheap cotton. When she had assured herself that she was properly prepared, Hannah completed her toilet, allowing herself only an occasional groan at the pains of being a woman.
Henry Lee, in contrast, felt wonderful this morning. Even the morning's rain could not dampen his enthusiasm. His trip to Ingalls had been very profitable. Word had spread of the demise of Pally Archambo's still, and private citizen and saloon keeper alike were willing to pay premium prices for the commodity they feared to be in short supply.
Henry Lee had been able to get a third more than his usual price for whiskey with promises to buy much more. He had returned home with his pockets bulging with money and a spring in his step. He removed his strongbox from its hiding place in the floor near the fireplace and added his profits to the already generous pile of U.S. currency and gold. As long as the shortage kept up, his financial picture could only get better.
Henry Lee, of course, had no intention of alleviating the shortage. Keeping the price of whiskey high was to his advantage, and he fully intended to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.
The whiskey problem had had another pleasurable consequence for Henry Lee. The shortage overshadowed the story of his hasty marriage to the Plainview preacher's daughter and he was not forced to parry many personal questions.
With things going so well for him, he'd decided to definitely tell Hannah about his business interests. He had convinced himself that Hannah's practicality would win out over any silly beliefs in the intrinsic evil of strong drink, and that she would ultimately be pleased at Henry Lee's obvious ability to provide well for her and her child. His business was becoming more successful, and he wanted to share his excitement with his wife.
As he came in from the barn, he heard Hannah before he saw her. She was making quiet groaning noises and as he watched her through the door, it was evident by her slow, unenthusiastic movements that she was not feeling very well. Henry Lee felt an immediate concern for her. What if something was wrong with the baby? The nearest doctor was in Ingalls and he hadn't given a thought to who he would call upon to help when the baby came. He didn't know any midwives, and he hadn't asked.
"Hannah, are you all right?" he called to her through the screen.
Hannah was startled and blushed. It was bad enough to have these periodic cramps, but for someone else to know, especially if that someone was a man, was horribly embarrassing.
Not quite able to meet his eyes, she answered, "Oh I'm fine, Henry Lee. Just feeling a little bit lazy this morning."
Henry Lee didn't believe her. He had known her only a couple of weeks, but he doubted that there was a lazy bone in the woman's entire body. She seemed always energetic and busy. Something must be wrong.
It was then that Henry Lee noticed the bodice of her dress. He cursed under his breath as he realized that she had retrieved her breast binder and was once again flattened down to a woman half her size. Obviously she had not been able to forget the embarrassment he had caused her yesterday and now she was willing to be in pain rather than draw attention to herself.
This lovely woman was suffering pain because he had acted like such a fool. He wanted to apologize, to tell her that she was free to go unbound and that he would not look at her like that again. Of course, he would look at her, he was looking at her now, but he would sincerely try to keep his eyes on more appropriate areas.
Sitting down to breakfast, Henry Lee went over several plans for explaining to her that she needn't bind herself on his account. He sighed in frustration that a man had to choose his words so carefully when talking with a decent woman. With whores and dance hall girls a man could just say whatever he felt like saying, but with a woman like Hannah, Henry Lee knew that he would be expected to mind his tongue. He should just tell her that it was unnatural and surely unhealthy. He knew, however, that ladies never use the words breast or bosom in mixed company, and he wasn't sure how in the world he was going to talk about something without ever mentioning it.
Hannah ate her breakfast in silence, not giving a thought to her bound bosom. She had not remembered to alter her Sunday dress, so she was forced to wear the binder again. She hardly noticed it, however. All her focus was on the twisting, shuddering ache in her lower abdomen. She wanted to just lean over and wrap herself into a tight ball to hold back the pain, but it was imperative that she not make a scene in front of Henry Lee. She wondered briefly if all women continued to hide from their husbands the fact of their normal body functions throughout their marriage. Practically speaking, Hannah thought that was ridiculous. But the idea of actually discussing "the curse" with a man was too humiliating to even be considered.
The rain had let up by the time the two were climbing into the wagon. Henry Lee solicitously covered Hannah's lap with the folded tarp, so that a sudden downpour would not catch her unaware. At the last minute he grabbed up his tool box from the shed and set it beneath the wagon seat.
"I thought I'd take some measurements while you are visiting after church," he explained.
Hannah almost sighed in despair. The last thing that she wanted to spend time doing today was standing around visiting while she waited on Henry Lee. She smiled courageously, however, and silently prayed that he would not take too long.
As the wagon made its way gingerly through the soggy roads, Henry Lee decided if he couldn't actually relieve her pain, the least he could do was to take her mind off of it. He decided to tell her outrageous stories about outlaws and Indians in the territory. Turning on the charm, he was determined to get his new wife to laugh, or at the very least, to smile.
"Let me tell you about the time I met Little Breeches," Henry Lee started. The female outlaw, Jennie Stevens, was a diminutive young woman who had ridden with the Wild Bunch, Dalton and Doolin's infamous gang of bank and train robbers.
"You met Little Breeches?" Hannah asked, immediately distracted.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered. "She was sitting as close to me as you are right now." Actually, he thought, she had been a good deal closer. The amoral little tramp
had come on to Henry Lee like wax on a hot stove.
"Was she pretty? What was she like? What did she say?"
Hannah's innocent curiosity pleased him, and he wanted to tell a good story that would hold her interest. The actual truth, that the vicious little bandit supported herself, before her arrest, by "unlawfully dealing in ardent spirits in Indian Territory" and that a good portion of those ardent spirits were purchased from Henry Lee Watson, was not a story he thought Hannah could appreciate.
"She wasn't ugly," Henry Lee told her, "but I wouldn't have said she was a pretty woman. She was so tiny, she barely came up to my chest, with such little hands and feet, it was hard to imagine her out robbing and killing. She dressed in men's clothes, said she felt more comfortable in them. And she said that you couldn't strap a six-shooter to your leg if you were wearing a skirt."
Hannah laughed and blushed at that. Why would a woman want to strap a six-shooter to her leg!
"She chewed tobacco," Henry Lee told her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "She used to see how far she could spit and challenge the men around to outdistance her."
As they drove through the damp, gray morning, Henry Lee continued to elaborate on his story, entertaining his new wife and enjoying the melodious sound of her throaty laughter.
Henry Lee told her about his trip to Ingalls. He wished he could tell her about his business success, but decided that would have to wait.
"I got the tickets to Sallisaw," he stated matter-of- factly.
Hannah immediately put aside her discomfort to relish the excitement.
"When are we going?" she asked, her voice almost childlike in its eagerness.
"A week from Thursday," he told her. "We'll pick up the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe to Tulsa, then switch to the Katy to Muskogee." Her enthusiasm seemed to be infectious and Henry Lee found himself smiling and eager. "We'll spend the night in Muskogee and then take the Iron Mountain to Sallisaw early in the morning and back to Muskogee that evening to spend another night before heading home."
"We're to spend two nights in Muskogee?" Hannah asked almost in awe. Henry Lee couldn't help but notice her amazement and was suddenly very pleased that he had insisted that she go with him.
"Where will we stay?" she asked. "Do you have friends in Muskogee?"
Henry Lee did have a few friends there, but none he would risk introducing to his wife. The wheel of the wagon hit a rut and Hannah was thrown up against him. Henry Lee put his arm around her waist to steady her and then liked the feel of it so much that he kept it there
"We'll stay in a hotel," he said. "The Adams was the best, of course, but it burned down in the big fire of eighty-nine. Nearly the whole area down by the Katy went up in smoke, but they've been rebuilding like crazy and I'm sure that we'll be able to find a nice new place to stay."
Clearly enjoying himself, Henry Lee offered her self-satisfied grin and began to reminisce about other times he had stayed over in Muskogee.
"I used to stay at Mitchell's Hotel 'cause it was clean and cheap and the food was edible. But one night I was there with some friends, and they convinced me that I should stay at Strokey's. They said that they always stayed there, because they liked it better than Mitchell's."
Shaking his head and laughing Henry Lee continued, "It wasn't until late that night that I found out why they preferred it. Mr. Strokey was not too particular about the cleanliness of his sheets, and he let the cowhands all sleep with their boots on. Muskogee was a rough town, and no one wanted to be caught barefooted!"
Hannah giggled at the image of Henry Lee, whom she already knew to be fastidious, sleeping in a bed wearing dirty boots.
Her laugh had its usual effect on her husband, and he smiled down at Hannah as if she were the most entertaining and attractive woman he had ever come across.
Henry Lee's well-practiced charm was heart stopping for an inexperienced woman like Hannah. In the damp, gray morning chill, she felt inexplicably warm.
"I didn't hear you come in last night," she said a little breathlessly. "You must have been very quiet."
"When those chairs don't jump in my way, I'm like a little mouse," he teased. "Though I was a mite tempted to fall down on my face, just for the pleasure of having you rescue me."
Hannah blushed at the way that he drew out the word pleasure as if it were five syllables long. She had wondered if he really remembered pulling her down to the floor with him. Obviously he did, and if his current boyish grin was any indication, he remembered it fondly.
Hannah was still slightly flushed when they reached Plainview Church and Henry Lee was feeling expansive, he was a successful businessman, a contributor to the church, and the contented husband of a terribly respectable woman with a throaty laugh and a marvelous bottom.
After securing the wagon, the two walked through the crowd gathered outside. Henry Lee stopped and spoke to each and every one, admiring a baby here and flirting with an elderly widow there. It came naturally to him, making friends in the crowd. It was the one useful thing he had learned from Skut Watson. As a businessman, he made himself welcome wherever he went.
Hannah, who was once again being bothered by cramps, did not linger with her husband but continued on toward the church, wanting nothing more than a place to sit down. She went inside, but the sanctuary was still empty. Deciding that sitting in the church alone would make her look unsociable, she started to return to the yard when she heard two women talking on the steps.
"He is such a personable young man," Flora Maycomb was saying to Maude Ruskin. "It's such a shame. Think of the good work he could do if he were in the Lord's service."
"Don't you be getting soft on me, Flora," her companion warned. "Putting perfume on cow manure doesn't make it something you want to bring in your house. Just because Reverend Bunch has let his foolish daughter marry up with him doesn't mean he's still not the Devil's right-hand man in this territory."
Hannah could not stifle the gasp that escaped her lips. The two women turned and stared dumbfounded. Both had been the recipient of numerous acts of generosity from the Bunch family and they both stood, embarrassed that their loose tongues should be overheard by Hannah.
Hannah was more than furious, she was outraged that these supposedly upright, decent women could judge a fine man like Henry Lee. Just because he did not attend church on a regular basis did not, in any way make him the “Devil's right-hand man” and Hannah had half a mind to tell them so. But she decided to let the silly women stew in their own narrow little prejudices.
"Excuse me," she said pushing past them to join her husband.
Through the entire church service Hannah managed to maintain her righteous indignation. She was so angry at those spiteful women, she couldn't even hear a word her father was preaching. She glanced numerous times at Henry Lee and he would meet her look with a quiet smile.
Each time she became more incensed that such a fine man should be the subject of backbiting in her own father's congregation. She wanted to avenge him. She wanted to make it up to him. She wanted to protect him. All her instincts as mother, sister, daughter, and wife merged into one cord of strength that now bound her to her husband. When he was welcomed, she was welcomed. When he was respected, she was respected. And when he was insulted, she was insulted. She wasn't exactly sure when this bond had occurred, but it was firmly in place and she felt no need to tamper with it.
By the time the service ended she was in a boiling rage and could barely offer a civil word to anyone. Her sister-in-law, Earline, couldn't even divert her with the baby. Hannah was angry at the whole congregation. Not one of them—except her father of course—had even tried to get to know Henry Lee. He had not, to her knowledge, ever been invited to participate in church activities. Hannah was certain that this slight was merely because he wasn't one of them. He was a mixed breed; he hadn't come from Kansas to raise corn or wheat, so he obviously was undeserving of the comforts of the Lord's house!
She briefly recalled her own past opinion of
Henry Lee. She had been wrong, dreadfully wrong. But now, shown the error of her ways, she had every intention of seeing that the rest of the congregation followed suit.
Henry Lee was completely at a loss to explain Hannah's behavior. It was obvious to him that she was mad as a wet hen about something, but he didn't know what, as he hurried through his measurements, it occurred to him that someone must have told her about his whiskey business. That was really the only thing that it could be. However, she didn't seem to be mad at him. All through the church service, each time he looked over at her, they shared a smile. It was possible, he decided, that she had learned the truth, but remained on his side. The idea that she knew all, understood, and he would not have to tell her, lightened his work and hurried his step. He could hardly wait to get back to the wagon.
They quickly took leave of the family and headed out.
Hannah's mind was overflowing with plans to prove to the congregation that her husband was a finer man than any of them.
The rain had disappeared, and the sun was peeking through mountains of thick fluffy clouds. Henry Lee smelled the soft sweet smell of the prairie after a good rain. It made him feel happy and alive and he wanted Hannah to feel the same way.
They rode along in silence as Henry Lee waited for Hannah to bring up the subject. As the miles passed, the anticipation got to be too much, and he decided that he must get her talking.
"Well, Mrs. Watson," he said turning to her and gesturing to the heavens, "the storm clouds seem to have left the sky, but it looks like they found a home in your eyes."
Hannah had the good grace to blush.
"On a beautiful day like today," Henry Lee continued, "a pretty woman such as yourself should be smiling and singing and the like. Have I done something to make you look as if you've been eating persimmons?"
"I like persimmons," she answered smiling for the first time. "Sometimes sour tastes better than sweet."