Courting Miss Hattie (28 page)

"I wouldn't say it." His tone was gentle, consoling.

Bessie Jane wanted his sympathy even less than she wanted his ill will. "I told you I've been with him," she said, holding her head high in a refusal to be cowed by her emotions. "Did you think I was lying?"

"No," he said quietly. "I believe it."

"Then why are you here?" Her voice was louder now, shrill with pain.

"Because I love you."

Stunned by the declaration that was so uncalled-for, so humbling for him, she chose to twist the knife in the wound. "It doesn't matter to you that I've been with another man?"

"Yes, it matters. I wanted to drown him, drown myself. But it would make no difference, Bess. What's happened has happened. I can't stop loving you just because I hate what you've done."

Running both hands through his thick hair, Harm sought words to express the way he felt about his woman, the depth of the betrayal he tried to understand. "If you had loved him, it would be easier. That isn't how it was, I'm sure of that. Maybe you want him, maybe he gives you pleasure, but you don't love him. You lie with him to get away from me, Bess, but that won't work."

He pulled her into his arms. She resisted for only a second,
then
he spoke to her, his words a warm whisper against her cheek. "We are one, sweet Bess. I pledged you my love, my life, so long ago. You remember, don't you?"

Though she shook her head in denial, Bessie Jane remembered all too clearly.

"I've waited for you to realize that," he went on. "All these long months I've waited while you've dallied in the grass with
Tyler
." Impatience colored his voice, and a tad of anger. "I'm not waiting anymore. I've decided to help you remember. I'm not letting you go so easily. I'm going to fight for what is mine."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't look so scared. I'm not calling Reed out," he said with a humorless laugh. "I've already tried to break his jaw, and he didn't have the vaguest idea why. The person I'm fighting is right here in my arms."

He pressed a tender kiss on her lips, followed by a sally of the tongue that sparked the dormant embers inside her to flames. "I'll be here all summer, sweet Bess," he whispered against her mouth. "Whenever you turn around, I'll be watching and waiting for you. I'll be at your window at night and everywhere you look in the day. When you get to that church to marry, I'll be waiting for you on the front steps. We belong together, Bess. I have no intention of letting you go."

Her body melted against his as a thirst for his touch, his caress, surged inside her. Then she heard the distant chatter of voices and jerked away from him.

"You must let me go," she said, and fled from him, hoping that leaving her love for him behind would be as easy.

* * *

Dusk was slipping across the picnic grounds when the lanterns were lit and the erratic
notes of tuning fiddles was
heard. Hattie laid the sleeping Buddy on one corner of the quilts, tenderly stroking his curly blond hair.
Ada
was already dreaming on the other side of the quilt, but she had made Hattie promise to awaken her for the fireworks. Carefully removing its pins, Hattie took off her hat and laid it on top of the picnic basket for safekeeping. The red blossoms were still vibrant, and she touched them, thinking what a nice memory they would make. A nice remembrance of fun and laughter and children in her arms on July Fourth. Smiling, she gave another loving glance to the two sleepy heads. No matter what happened, she would never forget the sweet emotion these children evoked in her.

Glancing up, she saw
Ancil
striding toward her, a disgruntled Mary Nell at his side. Drayton's eldest had also had a busy day. After watching the young girl cavorting with her friends, Hattie had determined that she suffered from the
nonlethal
pyrexia common to females of her age commonly known as boy-crazy. It was no excuse for her bad manners and surly attitude, but it did explain a great deal about why her family and father seemed to exist only as temporary annoyances.

"Mary Nell is going to watch the children for a while,"
Ancil
told Hattie, ignoring the girl's angry look. Reaching for her hand, he helped Hattie up,
then
offered his arm in a gesture more natural to gentlemen than cotton farmers.
"Have you enjoyed the picnic?" he asked conversationally as they strolled away.

"Yes. It's been such fun, and the children have been delightful."

He nodded, pleased. "I told them to be on their best behavior for you."

Hattie nearly said that she thought the children knew her well enough now to be themselves but decided against it. Surely he could see his children liked her, and that was enough.

"Nearly everybody in the county showed up," he said.

"I would imagine that most folks were in as much need of a picnic as we were."

He smiled down at her and patted her hand.

Thinking they were headed for the dancing, Hattie was surprised when
Ancil
made a detour toward a darkened copse of trees. She suspected he wanted a moment alone with her to steal a kiss and glanced around anxiously. Their kissing was vastly improved, but she wasn't willing to risk her reputation for it. "Perhaps we should stay with the others," she said primly, stopping dead still.

Ignoring her balk,
Ancil
slipped an arm around her waist and urged her into the shadows. "For this, Miss Hattie, I think it's quite proper for us to be alone."

Once they were safely concealed,
Ancil
stopped and released her. He simply looked at her for a moment, not touching her in any way. The "
smoochy
-smooch" that Hattie expected was not forthcoming, and the farmer seemed ill at ease as he shifted from one foot to the other. Removing his hat, he placed it over his heart and cleared his throat. "Miss Hattie," he began finally, "we've only been courting a couple of months now, and I guess some would say I'm speaking too soon."

In the darkness he couldn't see Hattie's face pale as she realized the import of his words.

"Lula's been gone the better part of a year," he said. "I cared a lot for that woman, but all the grieving in the world ain't going to bring her back, and I'm thinking to go on with my life."

He waited then, as if expecting some response from Hattie. She was too paralyzed with anticipation to speak.

"We are not children, Miss Hattie. We both know what we are about. And I see no call for spending months on end trying to decide on what we already know."

He swallowed hard and looked directly into her eyes for the first time. "I suspect you know what I'm asking.
Them
children of mine, they need a mama. And
I'm needing
a woman, Miss Hattie, not just for
smoochy
-smooch on the porch, but a real woman to share my life with. I think you'd do just fine for both tasks, if you're willing."

Hattie's heart was pounding so vigorously, she could hardly hear what he was saying. At last, at long last, it was happening to her. Hattie Colfax was being asked for her hand.

Her mind flashed back to those times when she had believed it would never happen. The foolish dreams of her childhood had been harvested in the disappointment of her twenties. She had struggled to make a life for herself without a husband, without children, without the familial love that so many
woman
accepted casually and treated frivolously. Here it was—a man to marry, a family of her own,
the
end of her loneliness.

Inexplicably the image of Reed Tyler at the plow, drenched in sweat but with a smile on his face, flittered through her mind. She dismissed it. It was a girlish, romantic notion to think that a husband should be young and handsome, always smiling. Reed was a young girl's fantasy—strong, handsome, noble, and determined. But he was only a fantasy, and a real husband was standing beside her. His hair might be sparse and his shoulders a little stooped. He might give
smoochy
-smooches instead of peaches, but he offered security, stability, a home, and a houseful of children to
raise
.

There was no more to consider, no more to imagine or wish for. Here at last was her chance for happiness, and she would be a fool to ignore it or let it slip away. "Yes,
Ancil
," she answered softly. "I'd be very pleased to marry up with you."

He hesitated a moment, as if to make sure he understood what she'd said, then his gap-toothed smile broke across his face. "You're willing then?" he asked unnecessarily.

She nodded, smiling back at him. He pulled her into his arms, planting a wet, happy kiss square on her lips. They giggled like children for a minute as he kissed her twice more.

"We're going to do just fine, Hattie," he promised her. "We got differences, lots of couples do, but we're going to make a go of this thing, I'm sure."

"I
think so too," she said, resolving to make it so. "I think I do well with the children. I'm even beginning to understand Mary Nell."

"Don't you worry about those
younguns
," he said, allowing his hand to slide across her midriff. Hattie brought her arms down, effectively cutting short his exploration. Accepting that good-naturedly, he kissed her again.

"Let's go tell 'em," he said, indicating the crowd of people gathered farther down the hill near the river. The music had begun, and the sounds of fiddles, laughter, and dancing filtered up to their quiet enclosure.

Hattie hesitated, feeling almost shy with her new status. She wondered how the neighbors would take the news. Her courtship had been the most widely spread gossip of the summer. Would they think her fast to accept the first time
Ancil
asked? Would they tut-tut over the length of time since Lula Drayton passed away? Hattie was nervous, but she refused to let those thoughts intrude on her glorious moment of betrothal.

"Whatever you want,
Ancil
," she said sweetly, and was rewarded by a very lover-like kiss from her intended.

Delighted in her malleability,
Ancil
pulled her close again for a squeeze, then gave her an enthusiastic pinch on the derriere. At her cry of pain, he remembered his promise and tried to make up for his error by gently rubbing the injured spot. "I forgot," he said sheepishly. Hattie slapped away his hand and headed for the dancing.
Ancil
followed in her wake, a naughty grin plastered on his face.

Long before she reached the crowd,
Ancil
was at her side, his arm possessively around her waist. As they hesitated on the edge of the crowd, Hattie couldn't meet the eyes of her friends. She knew her color was high and hoped no one had seen them stepping out from the secluded glade.

When the tune finished,
Ancil
propelled her through the people until they were standing in the center of the dancing area. He held up his hands to capture everyone's attention, then pulled Hattie close against his side. "I've got an announcement to make," he said loudly. They all hushed to hear his words. "To put it short and sweet," he said, grinning down at Hattie, "Miss Hattie Colfax has consented to be my new bride."

A murmur of delight rippled through the crowd, punctuated by squeals from several females. Suddenly Hattie was surrounded by her friends and neighbors. As the women hugged her and laughed with delight, the men slapped
Ancil
on the back and joked.

"I knew it from the very first," Millie Jessup declared to anyone who would listen. "I just knew these two were perfect for each other. Why, I practically brought them together myself."

All around her there was excited talk about weddings and dresses and holiday proposals. Hattie felt almost divorced from what was happening. Her dream had come true, yet somehow it didn't excite her. Glancing up over the faces that surrounded her, she saw Reed standing next to a wagon. He was alone, watching her.

He was smiling, but something in his expression was sad.

 
CHAPTER
 
15