If Wishes Were Kisses: Six Beloved Americana Romances, a Collection (Small Town Swains)

by Pamela Morsi

  "It's not much of a town," Henry Lee told her as they left the train. "Its only reason for existing is to be a railroad junction for the Atchison, Topeka, Santa Fe and the Frisco."

  Hannah glanced around unimpressed by the few little dismal buildings. "Ingalls is more of a town than this," she said.

  Her husband agreed. "Tulsa was laid out by the Frisco Railroad Company and is as efficient as a train schedule," he said. "The streets running east and west are numbered, First Street, Second Street, Third Street. The streets running north and south are split down the middle by Main Street, and are called avenues." Gesturing to the dusty thoroughfare they crossed he widened his eyes in sarcasm. "Pretty fancy name for this old cow trail, don't you think?"

  Hannah agreed with a throaty giggle.

  "All the avenues east of Main Street are named, by the A-B-Cs after cities east of the Mississippi." He pointed eastward and explained, "There's Boston Avenue and Cincinnati Avenue, like that."

  Hannah nodded her understanding.

  "All avenues west of Main Street are named for cities west of the Mississippi, like Cheyenne Avenue and Denver Avenue." Henry Lee's eyes lit with humor. "The public joke among the men here in town is that no matter how drunk you get in Tulsa, you can always figure out where you are."

  Laughing at his joke Hannah asked him, “Well, Mr. Watson, you seem to be perfectly sober today. I suppose you know exactly where you are. But do you know where you're going?"

  Henry Lee smiled down at her. He enjoyed teasing her and he was beginning to love it when she teased right back.

  "Yes, ma'am. I know exactly where I'm going. I'm taking my bride out for a bite to eat."

  "We're going to a restaurant?" Hannah was delighted by the adventure.

  "I have some friends who run the best restaurant in Tulsa." With a grin he added, "It's also the only restaurant in Tulsa!"

  Marco and Rosa Morelli were getting on in years, but still maintained the love of life and adventure that had brought them from Naples, through New York and Chicago, clear across the plains to this desolate little town. They had tried farming, sheep, and cattle, but had ultimately found their niche in cooking good hot food for train passengers passing through.

  "My friend, Mr. Watson!" Morelli called out, raising his hands as a gesture of welcome. "Rosa and I have missed you. You stay away too long."

  Henry Lee grasped the man's hand as a screech was heard from the doorway.

  "You!" the woman yelled at him. "Don't you know that you cannot live without good food, but do you come in to eat? No, not for months we don't see you, and I ask my husband, I ask him why. Is he hurt? Is he in trouble? What kind of busy does he have that he can't pass this way and let me fix him an antipasto?"

  Hannah was taken aback by the woman's strange manner, but Henry Lee didn't seem to take it seriously and grabbed the handsome older woman around her ample waist for a big hug.

  "I have been busy, and you will approve, I know," he told her. He turned and gestured to Hannah. "Rosa, Marco, I'd like you to meet my wife, Hannah."

  Rosa screamed again and pushed Henry Lee away.

  "Why do I waste my breath on a man who lets his wife stand starving in the doorway? Come in! Come in!" she said to Hannah hugging her like a long lost friend and then holding her at arm's length and taking a good long look at her.

  "Is she pretty, Marco?" she said in a way that conveyed that she definitely was. "A good, strong girl he picks," she spoke secretively to Hannah touching her finger to her brow, "I knew he was a smart one, learn from my Marco. When you pick a wife, you pick one that don't look like the wind would knock her over."

  Rosa placed her hands on Hannah as if measuring the width of her pelvis. "Look at these hips, Marco. The boy will get plenty of babies from this one, no trouble."

  Hannah's face flamed scarlet. Such plain speaking was embarrassing, but she could tell the woman had meant her words for the best. Besides, Hannah thought, it wouldn't hurt for Henry Lee to be aware of his wife's more practical advantages. Rosa fixed them a wonderful meal of some of the strangest dishes that Hannah had ever tasted. Everything from the pickled onions, through the spaghetti and on to the dessert custard was unique. Marco gave them lessons on spaghetti twirling and Rosa promised that she would teach Hannah everything she needed to know about cooking for a new husband. When Henry Lee declared that his wife already was the best cook in the territory, Rosa raised her hands to heaven.

  "Thank God, at last he is truly in love! When a man believes that his wife cooks best, you know that his stomach has become as blind as his eyes!"

  The Morellis were busy serving customers and Hannah and Henry Lee laughed and talked. When the last of the customers had headed out the door the two came and joined them at the table.

  "I have a business proposition for you," Morelli told him. "It is something for the future, to set aside now. A young husband like yourself should think of the future, I know. Next time you look, you'll see the house full of bambinos and ask, 'How this happen?' " he joked.

  Henry Lee gave a startled glance at Hannah. He wondered when they would start telling people about the baby. Morelli was right, the future was here with them and a good husband and father would be making plans.

  "What kind of business do you have in mind?"

  "It's not business, not yet, it's investment," the older man told him. "The old Indian whose allotment sets just south of town here, he comes in to eat Rosa's cooking sometimes. He tells me he no like to live so near the town, make him crazy he says. So he go to live nearer his son. He want to sell his land, sell it fast."

  Henry Lee nodded, interested.

  "I think I should buy it. The town gonna grow I think, and it has nowhere to grow this side of the river except that way."

  "Well, if you think you should buy it, why mention it to me?"

  "Ah," Morelli dragged the sound out almost mournfully. "My Rosa and me, we got good sense and hard work, but we got no money." He gestured comically pulling the insides of his pockets out to show that they were empty.

  "My good friend, Henry Lee, he got good sense and hard work, too. But, he's got money."

  Hannah looked at Henry Lee, surprised. She hadn't been aware that Henry Lee was doing any better than the other farmers, but she was proud to hear otherwise. A fine man like her husband certainly deserved to do well.

  Henry Lee saw the look on Hannah's face and immediately worried that she had heard enough to become suspicious.

  "We don't want to bore you ladies with this business talk," he said. "Hannah, maybe you could get Rosa to show you the kitchen?"

  Rosa wasn't buying any flimsy excuses. "Men!" she said. "They don't want us to hear their business talk, you know why? 'Cause we are so smarter than them, and they are afraid that we will find out!"

  Hannah laughed.

  "Come, little new bride," Rosa urged her, "I have new dress I've been making for my granddaughter, you must see it."

  The two women disappeared through the door that led to the living quarters upstairs and Henry Lee turned to Morelli.

  "How much does the old Indian want?" Henry Lee asked.

  "He is not greedy," Morelli answered. Henry Lee was sure that even if the city did not prosper and grow into the land, it was still fairly good bottom ground land that could be farmed and the trees on it, alone, would be worth the asking price. Morelli could come up with about a third of the money needed, if Henry Lee could make the rest.

  "I have a little business deal going in Muskogee," Henry Lee said. "I expect to make a good bit of profit fairly quickly. Tell the Indian he can have his payment in cash tomorrow, if he'll come down five percent on the price."

  "You can have that money by tomorrow?" Morelli's face clouded with concern. "It is dangerous to make so much money so fast, my friend."

  "I'm careful," Henry Lee assured him.

  "That's good. 'Cause now you have family to worry about," he said gravely. Then lightening the mood he added, "And an old business partner
who is going to help make you a very rich man!"

  Henry Lee and Hannah were almost late getting back to their train and had to grab their bags and run the last few steps. They were flushed and laughing like children when they finally found their seats.

  A stiff matron seated across the aisle gave them a withering look of disapproval.

  "We're on our honeymoon," Henry Lee told her, loud enough for everyone in the car to hear. Hannah blushed and lowered her eyes. When she looked up again in embarrassment, she saw that everyone in the car was watching them with tolerant approval and smiling at their private happiness. It must have been contagious, because Hannah found that she could no longer be embarrassed, she was just too pleased.

  They arrived in Muskogee a little after four. The train station, just off Okmulgee Street, was brightly colored and welcoming, and there were so many people coming and going it nearly made Hannah dizzy to watch.

  In an instinctive gentlemanly gesture, Henry Lee took her arm and guided her through the milling crowds toward the center of town. Hannah stared in big-eyed wonder at all the new sights, but then tried determinedly not to look impressed. She wouldn't want everyone to think she was some country bumpkin who'd never seen a city before.

  “Is it always like this?" Hannah asked, as she watched a bright red kerosene wagon inch around the corner, barely missing a bicycle headed in the wrong direction.

  "Sometimes it's worse," he replied apologetically, "but only on the main thoroughfares. The side streets are a lot quieter."

  A little way further they turned off onto one of the side streets Henry Lee had mentioned, and Hannah had to agree the relative peace and quiet was welcome.

  On the corner, only a block away from the traffic and noise of the main boulevards, the Williams Hotel could be entered by climbing three marble steps and passing through a curved archway with real stained glass in the windows.

  Henry Lee stopped abruptly on the first step as if gathering his thoughts.

  "Is this where we are going to stay?" Hannah asked. To her the hotel looked like a palace. "Are you sure we can afford this, Henry Lee?"

  Interrupted from his thoughts, Henry Lee quickly assured her that money would not be a problem.

  "Hannah," he went on, his look guarded and his cheeks slightly flushed. "You're my wife, and it will sure look strange to these folks if we sign as man and wife and then ask for separate rooms."

  Hannah began a thorough investigation of her hands and fingernails, no more able to meet Henry Lee's eye than he was to meet hers.

  She had thought it might come to this. In all truth, she had hoped that it would. She didn't know why Henry Lee continued to hesitate to bring her to bed, but she felt it was time. After what had happened under the catalpa tree, he surely must realize that she would not spurn him. Her face grew vivid red at the memory of how ready she'd been to be a wife to him, right there in the grass and shade of the afternoon.

  "Hannah," he said, "it wasn't just foolish talk when I said this was our honeymoon. I'm thinking that it's high time that we began to live together as man and wife."

  Hannah was not sure if she would ever be able to breathe again. She wanted this, waited for it, but she now felt so shy and scared, she had little idea of how to go about accepting it.

  She shyly reached for his hand and still without looking at him she replied, "I am your wife, Henry Lee."

  Henry Lee's breath rushed out in a sigh of relief. She was as eager as himself to consummate their marriage, he was sure of it. He wanted to explain it all to her. How he was sure that in the long run it would be better this way. It would make the baby seem more like his and by the time it came along they would be comfortable in their married life. He realized that he no longer cared about the other man. The sins she had left behind her meant nothing at all to him, and he was sure that she wasn't pining after someone else. They would not let the shadows of the past darken their future.

  Taking her arm, he escorted her deferentially up the steps and through the doorway. He thought playfully about carrying her across the threshold, but decided not to push his luck.

  The lobby was as beautifully decorated and refined as the entryway and Hannah tried not to gawk at the finely-made furniture and the rich fabric of the drapes. The Williams Hotel was very new, and Henry Lee had heard that it was the hotel currently being patronized by Kansas City cattle buyers and Washington bureaucrats. Therefore, it must be very fine indeed. Henry Lee hadn't even balked at the prices. A man only had a honeymoon once, after all, and Henry Lee Watson was a very successful businessman.

  An attractive young man, dressed in a black and white checked suit, stood behind the desk. He politely acknowledged them with a nod as he spoke into a wooden box on the wall while holding the cylinder attached to it by a cord, up to his ear.

  Finishing his conversation he returned the cylinder to its hanging spot on the wooden box and offered a rather insincere apology concerning the bother of modem conveniences.

  "We'd like a room for two nights," Henry Lee said.

  "Your name, sir?" the man asked.

  The man quickly scanned his book finding it.

  "Yes, Mr. Watson," he said, "you've requested our best room. That would be the Territorial Suite." He spoke with bombast and self-importance, dragging out the syllables of each word to its greatest possible length.

  "If you would sign the book, sir, I will be happy to see you and your lovely lady to your temporary domicile."

  Henry Lee was not certain whether he was interested in a "temporary domicile," but concentrated on carefully printing the letters of his name on the register. Henry Lee was too long for him to write, but putting down Watson was far superior to an X.

  "A Mr. Harjo was by a few hours ago," the young man told him. "He said you'd be coming, and he left you a note." The man reached to retrieve a small piece of folded paper from a nest of boxes on the wall behind him.

  As the man gathered up their luggage and asked them to follow, he headed up the stairway at the far end of the room. Henry Lee opened his note and tried to make it out as best he could. Reading was not one of his better skills. He had never attended school and his mother's occasional attempts to teach him were as inconsequential as they were sporadic. He struggled with the first few

  words, then shook his head and followed his wife up the stairs.

  The Territorial Suite was actually two good-size rooms facing the tree-lined street. The sitting room was slightly crowded with several spindle-legged chairs, three small tables, covered with crocheted doilies, knickknacks, and pictures in every possible inch of available space. It was altogether too fussy for Hannah's taste.

  The bedroom was dominated by a massive four- poster bed that made any thought of furnishings fly completely from Hannah's head. She quickly retreated to the fussy sitting room, making herself useful by rearranging the multitudinous objects d'art.

  Henry Lee came in, thanked the young man and gave him a penny. He watched Hannah nervously redistributing the ornaments. "I'll open the window and you can toss all this rubbish out," he joked. She smiled shyly, sharing his amusement, and determinedly stilled her restless hands.

  He followed the young man out into the hall and stopped him before he reached the stairs.

  "Could you read this for me?" he asked.

  The young man seemed somewhat surprised and then with a patrician air, dramatically and loudly read Henry Lee's message.

  AM FEELING WELL ENOUGH TO ATTEND

  THE FUNERAL MYSELF. IT WILL BE

  TONIGHT. MEET ME AT THE AMBROSIA

  BALLROOM AT NINE THIS EVENING. BRING

  YOUR LOVELY BRIDE. IT'S A VERY DISCREET PLACE. HARJO.

  Because Henry Lee believed his own lack of education neither to be shameful nor a hindrance, he was not angered or embarrassed by the man's superior attitude. He thanked him, handed him another penny in appreciation, and headed back to his room, pleased.

  He found Hannah still standing in the middle of the sitting ro
om, trying to make country-style order out of the chaos of city fashion.

  "You think these people like all this stuff cluttering up all the time?" she asked him, smiling in mock disgust.

  "That's what I've seen," he admitted. "Makes them think they are well-to-do when they have more things than places to put them."

  "Seems foolish to me. I want things simple."

  Henry Lee walked up beside her; standing as close as was politely reasonable, he reached over and took her hand. He wanted to kiss it, but fearing that boldness would frighten her, merely rubbed the soft skin of the back of her hand against his cheek.

  "Maybe, Hannah, we are more suited than we thought."

  The slight stubble of his cheek seemed to send little electric shocks down her arms and straight into her chest, constricting it and making it difficult for her to breathe.

  Henry Lee saw her reaction and it gave him a strange sense of power and control. He pressed his advantage and pulled her gently up against his chest. There was no pressure or force, he merely held her there, next to him. He could feel her trembling, trembling for him. He followed the direction of her eyes and found her gazing at the bed in the next room. It was to be their marriage bed and they both knew it. A tremor of his own fear skittered through his thoughts, quickly replaced by compassion and concern for Hannah. He was the man of vast experience, and no matter what her past, she was not sophisticated or worldly. He would court her tonight, win her and when he took her to him, she would never regret it.

  Hannah felt both shy and bold simultaneously. She wanted his touch and was afraid of it, too. At least now she knew that the waiting would be over soon. Tonight they would be man and wife at last. She wanted the waiting to be over. She wanted to find out what the marriage bed was all about. But mostly, she wanted him. She wanted Henry Lee to touch her and kiss her and make her feel again the way he'd made her feel that afternoon under the catalpa tree.

  Remembering her own lack of control and the bombardment of sensations that Henry Lee had sparked in her rekindled her fears. Perhaps her eagerness made her seem desperate or unnatural. It was terrible not knowing what behavior was normal for a wife, not knowing what was expected. Henry Lee sensed her apprehension and ambivalence and quickly released her. He was willing to wait, to see her more eager. He had plans to quiet her fears and get her used to his touch.