by Pamela Morsi
It was nice, however, not to feel the burden of responsibility. For Hannah, this was the first time in a very long time when the congregation did not turn to her automatically to organize things. It enabled her to spend more time comforting the family.
They were holding up very well, she thought. And she was glad she had been there for Newt's wife, who seemed to be carrying the rest of the family and needed a strong shoulder to lean on herself.
It was still hard for her to believe that Henry Lee had put the man in his coffin and arranged the body. Newt's wife's relief had been blatantly obvious. And Young Newt's face, when he saw that he had pleased his mother, was something not easy to forget. Henry Lee had done that. Her Henry Lee. Without prompting, or previous experience, he had instinctively known how to help. Even her father, who Hannah had always considered the closest thing to a saint on this earth, would never have known to do that. It was just more evidence of the goodness and depth of her husband's nature.
Hannah was aware of Henry Lee at her side, and in her ruminations upon his decency and kindness she reached over and took his hand. His warm, calloused fingers felt perfectly matched to her own. She looked up at him to find him looking at her. His deep blue eyes searching her own, as if to read what she was thinking and feeling. Yet it seemed he must already know. They felt the same way. In this they were one.
Continuing to gaze at each other, they both suddenly became attuned again to what the preacher was saying.
"After Brother Hensley's wife, Mattie, died," he was saying, "it was almost as if a part of him died with her. Oh, he wanted to be here, to watch his grandchildren grow up, to see the community prosper, just to watch the sunrise every morning. But a part of him wanted to be with the woman that he loved, the woman that he had committed himself to all those years before. The woman that had shared his life, through better and worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health, only death could part them."
There seemed to be a flow of energy racing back and forth between Henry Lee and Hannah, connected by their hands but also by their hearts, as they heard the preacher speaking the words that they had so recently said to each other. When they had made those vows, neither had understood the depth of their meaning. Now as they stood at the site of the newly-dug grave, both silently reaffirmed that their lives were irrevocably entwined.
Reverend Brown closed his Bible quietly as he concluded, "Death no longer parts our brother from the woman he loves. They are together again in paradise."
The movement around them broke the trance between the two and Henry Lee moved to pick up one of the ropes to lower the coffin into the ground.
As the preacher committed the body to the ground, Henry Lee returned to Hannah's side and took her arm. He felt a sense of pride and ownership, this woman was his, all his and would be forever. Hannah thought she finally knew what it felt like to be married.
A few days later, she wasn't sure that she hadn't imagined the feeling. The day of the funeral they had been so close. During the drive home that evening, Henry Lee had actually put his arm loosely around her shoulders as he asked concerned questions about how she was feeling and if she was tired. Hannah was sure now that things were beginning to work out between them.
But when they arrived home, as late as it was, Henry Lee immediately changed into work clothes and grabbed up his bedroll telling Hannah he would be sleeping outside and would see her at breakfast.
He had been true to his word and the next day, Hannah saw him only at meals and he seemed to be very rushed and distracted. He barely spoke to her. With the date of their trip rapidly approaching, he did remind her to have her things ready, but he needn't have bothered. Her new dress was finished, and she had already picked through the nicest of her clothing to take in her satchel. There was always the possibility of becoming ill or injured among strangers. If it became necessary for a strange woman to take care of her, she wanted her unmentionables to be her best.
Henry Lee's defection preyed on her mind incessantly. She wanted to please him, to do something to make him want to return to the cabin. She tried to make his home more inviting, a crocheted doily here and a vase of wildflowers there. She made a tick for his Dufold and used the leftover blue material from her new dress to upholster it. He had seemed very pleased and complimented her on the quality of her workmanship, but quickly hurried back out. But mostly she appealed in the manner she thought most successful. She cooked.
Devoting an unreasonable amount of time to the task, she made Sunday meals three times a day, trying to capture his attention. He ate like a man starved and seemed totally delighted at his good fortune, but never once did he linger at the table.
This failure only spurred Hannah to new heights of culinary excellence. So, when she was tramping through the woods trying to capture a thieving pig who had run off with one of Henry Lee's shirts from the wash, she was delighted to discover a blackberry thicket just ripe and ready to pick. It might be possible, she determined, to win her husband with a blackberry cobbler.
In midafternoon, when all the washing was hanging out on the line and the work caught up, Hannah dressed in her oldest, shabbiest dress. Blackberry picking was a thankless task, and the millions of thorns that grow from the branches of the thicket often made it a painful one. But Hannah was confident that a blackberry cobbler would do for her marriage what her desire for her husband's attention could not.
As Hannah carefully picked berries, Henry Lee sat working in the cave watching the steady drip from the still. He poured some of the finished brew into a mason jar and after fastening the lid, he shook it thoroughly. Holding it up to the light he examined the bubbles that had formed at the top of the liquid and a smile broke out on his face. They were the exact size of #5 shot. The proof was perfect.
He had laid out some poor quality knotty pine and was busily working on another coffin, not nearly so fine as the one he'd made for Old Man Hensley. Henry Lee had decided since whiskey was in short supply, selling some whiskey right in the middle of the territory could bring him double price. He had to pass through Muskogee anyway, so there was really no reason not to make the trip profitable as well as fun.
His idea for a coffin, Henry Lee thought, was inspired. Harjo had a brother-in-law who ran an undertaking business in Muskogee. It would not seem strange at all for an undertaker to pull a wagon up to the train to retrieve a body. And no federal marshal would be anxious to inspect a coffin that had been riding in the hot, steamy baggage car for several hours. Henry Lee smiled at his own cleverness. He figured he could easily ship thirty-eight gallons of whiskey in the coffin and it still wouldn't be much heavier than a good-sized corpse.
He would send a wire to the undertaker saying that Harjo's body was being shipped to him on the Katy. Since he would know that his brother-in-law was not dead, the two of them would pick up the coffin and hold it for Henry Lee.
It was a good plan, he thought. The only tricky part would be explaining to Hannah why he was shipping a coffin to Muskogee, but since she knew that he made coffins, she might not be too suspicious about hearing an undertaker in Muskogee had requested one.
He was proud of his business acumen and wished he could share his accomplishments with Hannah. He was not ready yet, however, to tell her about the whiskey. He felt that he knew her better now, and was sure that she would grow accustomed to his line of work, he just didn't want to cause trouble before they took their trip. Once they were really man and wife, once he'd pleased her in his bed, she'd come around soon enough.
A devilish smile crossed his face thinking of pleasing her. A few weeks ago he would have questioned whether church ladies could enjoy the marriage bed. He was sure that Hannah could. She compressed all her feelings, all her passion into a tiny hard knot that she held close to her heart. Henry Lee knew that if he ever broke through and released all that pent-up emotion, she would be pleased indeed.
Shifting position to accommodate the ache that had developed in his groin, Henry Lee smiled to hims
elf. He was the man for the job. The same thoroughness and attention to detail that characterized his woodworking and whiskey made him a lover that women did not soon forget.
It wasn't that he needed to prove himself or gain admiration, Henry Lee simply enjoyed loving a woman, making her forget who she was, or where she was, having her drop all pretenses and coyness and become only female, so that he could be only male.
That's what Henry Lee wanted to happen between himself and Hannah. He wanted her mindless and straining beneath him, her pretty, hymn-singing mouth covering his body with desperate kisses. He'd take her mind off his occupation for sure. And she'd never have another thought for the man who had fathered her child. He'd keep her so satisfied she'd get down on her knees twice a day to thank the good Lord for allowing her to spend her life in Henry Lee's bed.
Henry Lee tried to shake his lusty thoughts out of his head and concentrate on the task at hand. Just two more days, he promised himself, and he'd never spend another night without her beside him.
Hannah's progress through the blackberry thicket had filled up one bucket and was working on the second. There were plenty of ripe berries here for as many pies as Henry Lee could eat and plenty of jam to keep for the winter.
She wondered why Henry Lee hadn't mentioned the thicket. Having such a fine one on one's property was tremendous good fortune. Her father was incredibly fond of blackberries and there weren't any within miles of his home. Hannah had tried once to cultivate a thicket, digging up a small bush near the river, but although it grew pretty well for a while, it never bore any fruit and Hannah had finally given up on it. She would have to save some for Violet to make a pie for her father.
As the time passed Hannah tried to hurry. She wanted to pick all that were ripe, before the birds got to them, but she also wanted to have time to fix Henry Lee a cobbler for his supper tonight.
Reaching deep into the thicket, she encountered something unexpected. A webby pouch hung, as ripe as the berries, within the thicket. When her hand brushed against it, she inadvertently punched it open. Jerking her hand back quickly, she saw the silky evidence of the remainder of the spider's nest on her fingers, and in horror she watched as hundreds of tiny spiders scrambled into the world and raced up her arm.
The blood drained from her face as a wave of cold terror, fear, and nausea swept through her. Dropping her bucket, she began screaming hysterically as she tried to wipe away the unending stream of spiders as they doggedly pursued shelter up her shoulders, across her chest, down her waist, and in her hair.
Hannah's scream made Henry Lee's blood run cold. Without thought he raced out of the cave and jumped from the ledge hitting the ground at a dead run. He had no weapon, but he ran without caution, mindlessly he raced toward the sound of his wife's terror. When he reached the backside of the hog pen, he realized that the screams were not coming from the house. He quickly grabbed up a singletree leaning against the barn and raced into the woods.
The territory wasn't bear country and few animals in the wild were threatening to people, an occasional cougar or perhaps a rabid bobcat were the only dangers that Hannah might not be able to protect herself against. He hoped it was neither of those since her screaming would undoubtedly frighten the animal and make the situation worse.
When he found her she was still screaming, slapping at her arms and face, pulling at her sunbonnet and hair, she was so pale she looked near to fainting. When he saw the tiny spiders scurrying down her skirt, he understood what was happening. Dropping the singletree, he began helping her brush away the frightening little varmints. She was shuddering as if freezing as he wiped her skirt and her arms, she pulled at her hair, which was now loose and wild and then began crying in panic. They seemed to be everywhere as he frantically swept at her arms and clothing. She seemed most frightened by the ones crawling in her hair, and Henry Lee untied her bonnet and threw it behind them; grabbing handfuls of those loose honey-colored tresses he shook them like flags in the wind as Hannah clawed at those racing across her face and neck.
"Down my back! Henry Lee, they're crawling down my back!" she screamed.
Henry Lee turned her around and assessed the situation immediately. Without thought he grabbed the back of her dress and ripped the cheap cotton to the waist; jerking down the back of her chemise, he quickly located and disposed of the one crafty little spider who had found his way there. Raising her hair and wiping her neck and bare shoulders, he assured himself that that was the last of them. For good measure he checked her arms and skirt again thoroughly for any villains that might have got away.
She was still crying. Tears coursed down her face in streams and she was trembling so hard that Henry Lee wondered if she would be able to stand. Instinctively, he slipped an arm behind her knees and grabbed her up to his chest and carried her out of the woods.
Her arms around his neck, she held him as if he were her last hope and soaked the front of his work shirt with her tears. When he reached the edge of the woods he headed up the small rise. In the shade of a catalpa tree, Henry Lee sat down on the ground, still holding Hannah to his chest, and began to rock her as one would a baby, whispering and crooning in her ears that she was fine, the spiders were gone, she was safe, and he would take care of her. He planted gentle kisses on her hair as he tenderly stroked her bare shoulder and arm.
Henry Lee thought that she had never been so beautiful. Her hair was untamed and everywhere. Who would have thought that neat little braid held such wild curls? The hair seemed to soften her face making her look like a little girl, so exposed, so trusting.
As she quieted, Henry Lee found himself unwilling to lose her. He cuddled her more closely, listening to her breathing and the pounding of her heart. The feel, the smell, the closeness of her was arousing. He felt the usual reaction rising in his trousers. The skin that he had laid bare now tantalized him. His lips could almost taste the creamy shoulder that lay before him, beckoning him to kiss it. But he waited. She was so vulnerable, he wanted to go slowly so as not to frighten her again.
When the last quiet, hiccupping sob ceased, she continued to sit on his lap allowing his arms to protect her. She was embarrassed by the way she had acted. Grown women did not become hysterical over a few spiders, she told herself. But, even as she thought of the spiders crawling all over her, another involuntary shudder went through her. When finally she spoke, her voice was hoarse from screaming.
"I don't know what came over me," she began, "I'm not a flighty miss who screams at every little thing."
She would have pulled away from him then, but Henry Lee continued to hold her. Not with force, he simply did not relinquish her, and she was not willing to try harder. She merely righted her clothes as modestly as the torn cloth would allow and rested against him.
"I wanted to do something special for you," she told him. "I saw those blackberries and I wanted to make you a blackberry cobbler. I make a wonderful blackberry cobbler, it's my father's favorite."
"That's real sweet of you, Hannah darlin'," he told her, snuggling closer. "You already fix me the finest meals in the territory, there's no need to go to any extra bother."
"But I wanted to!" she insisted. "I know you'll just love my blackberry cobbler."
"Hannah," he said to her softly. "I truly do not care for blackberries at all. Those pesky little seeds bother me, and I can't bear to have the nasty stuff in my mouth."
Hannah stared straight ahead for a minute in abject shock, then suddenly a tiny giggle began working its way up through her middle until it poured out of her in gales of laughter. Henry Lee couldn't help being drawn to the contagious sound and the two sat there holding each other close and laughing uproariously.
"I can't believe that I made such a fool of myself trying to impress you. I wanted you to see what a competent wife I can be, going out and finding berries on my own to make you a pie. And what I ended up doing was showing you that I can be as foolish and spooky as a schoolgirl, while trying to make something for you that you
didn't even want!" She shook her head in self- disgust.
"It's all right," he said to her in a voice just above a whisper. "Nobody would want those creepy varmints all over them. You don't have to pretend with me, Hannah. You hate bugs and lizards and such, that's fine. You don't have to be brave and sensible about such nonsense. I'm here for you, Hannah. I'll slay all your lizards and chase away the spiders forever."
He felt her smile against his chest.
"Well, it's a good thing, Henry Lee," she teased. " 'Cause you sure can't accuse me of being brave and sensible when I'm screaming like a pig with his tail caught in a rat trap!"
Henry Lee laughed. "Now, Hannah," he said, pretending to be stem, "I'll have you know that my pigs have got a lot more gumption than to squeal at a mess of baby spiders. And even if they did, they could never sound as wild as you did. Why, when I heard you, I thought some giant gator had swum up from Louisiana and grabbed you by the foot to take you home to feed his wife and young 'uns."
Hannah pulled away enough to look at him, she was smiling.
"I bet I did make you think something terrible happened, for you to come running up with a singletree in your hand. It's a good thing that you didn't try to beat off those spiders, you would have killed me for sure."
Henry Lee turned her about halfway around and raised his knees, which had her looking almost straight into his eyes, and seated right on top of where she could do the most good.
"Didn't I tell you the story about the man who was arrested for killing his wife?" he teased her.