Heaven Sent (4 page)

"Here," Violet said, handing her the water bucket, "you take this up to the men and it will get your mind off your troubles."

The last thing Hannah wanted to do was to stand around under the scrutiny of the men, and she certainly wasn't going to say another thing to Will, but she took the water bucket and headed up the rise.

As she walked up to the first group of men she noticed that they were all gathered around Henry Lee Watson.

"There were these two sisters from
Cincinnati
," Henry Lee was saying. "The fat one was named Ima and the skinny one was name Ura. Well, when the brush salesman came to the door—"

One of the men signaled to Henry Lee and he immediately stopped his story and turned to face Hannah.

"Miss Hannah, you've brought us water!" he said loudly as if he were speaking for the benefit of everyone. "There's nothing more encouraging to a man hard at work than the sight of a pretty girl concerned with his comfort."

All the men seemed to be looking at Hannah and she felt distinctly out of place. That was another thing about Henry Lee Watson that she truly didn't like. He made her feel uncomfortable. It was as if, when he was around, the differences between men and women were somehow more marked.

He took the ladle from her and drank deeply, then he poured a second ladleful over his face.

"On a day as hot as today, ma'am, you could offer a man a drink like this and he would give you anything." He spoke the words in a stage whisper that seemed to insinuate some sort of intimacy between the two of them. It made her flustered and she searched for a scorching reply.

As he drank another ladleful, she said as haughtily as she could manage, "It's only water, it's not as if I made it myself!"

Henry Lee spewed the water out of his mouth nearly choking and laughter rang out all around them. Horrified, Hannah realized the implication of her words. The idea that she "made water" was the most humiliating thing she had ever said in mixed company. And he was laughing at her.

"Here, take it." She handed him the bucket and, with blazing cheeks, headed back down the hill at a controlled and moderate pace, her back stiff with anger.

He better not be interested in Myrtie, she thought to herself furiously. He was terrible, but a young girl like Myrtie wouldn't be able to see past that handsome face. Surely Papa would never allow a crass man like him to court little Myrtie.

Supper was served late. The men wanted to use every last bit of daylight so they could finish early tomorrow. The high spirits of the afternoon had given way to an overall tiredness. Hard labor for ten hours made the supper table a quiet place.

Hannah was quiet also. Time seemed to drag, and yet the hour for implementing her plan was almost upon her. She kept reminding herself that this was all in the good book, but she was beginning to have some doubts. As the men got up to leave the table, she came out to clear it.

She watched Will head toward the wellhouse and she reminded herself of the prize she sought. A good, hardworking man to live her life with, to give her children, and to grow old beside. Hannah finished her chores and returned to her room.

Myrtie flounced into the bedroom and peered over her sister's shoulder as Hannah sat on the bed, poring over her Bible.

"Honestly, Hannah! Don't you get enough of that with the family? Papa just finished reading us the scriptures."

"It's just something I wanted to look over one more time," Hannah answered distractedly, and returned to her studying.

Myrtie was already fast asleep and the candle burning low when Hannah finished. She closed her Bible, pressed it to her breast, and whispered to herself, "and Ruth sought Boaz on the threshing floor—"

She closed her eyes and placed her hands over her face as if to hide from herself. "Please give me strength to do this," she prayed. "If this is the only way it can be, then please give me the strength to do it."

When the house was completely still Hannah moved slowly out of her bed. She wished she could dress, but that would defeat her purpose. Donning her wrapper, she headed out the door, and nearly came up short as she heard snores coming from the backporch where some of the men had bunked down. She decided that if anyone should rouse, she would simply be headed for the privy. No one did, and with amazing ease she found herself at the wellhouse.

She looked around to see if she was being observed, but the whole world seemed to be asleep. She eased the door open and peered inside. The light from the moon did not allow her to see too far past the doorway, but she could make out the form of a man sleeping on the floor. She opened the door wider and the moonlight revealed a head of thick black hair. Hannah's breath caught in her throat for an instant, but before her courage could leave her she whispered to herself the verses she had memorized.

"And it shall be, when he lieth down, that thou shalt mark the place where he shall lie, and thou shalt go in, and uncover his feet, and lay thee down
…"

Hannah took a deep breath and stepped gently inside, it certainly would not do to wake Will up. The embarrassment would be impossible to live with and he would surely send her back to the house and everything would be ruined. Ruth had wanted a man to marry her, and her mother-in-law had directed her to go out to the fields and lie beside him. If she were caught in a compromising position with Will, he would have to marry her. It had worked for Ruth.

She slipped off her wrapper and gently laid it out beside him. She gave quick thanks that his face was turned away from her or she might not have been able to go through with it. She eased herself down beside the man she intended to marry. Stiff, frightened, and wary, she lay beside him and waited for dawn.

For the thousandth time she felt a twinge of guilt. But she knew that she would make Will happy. No other woman would try as hard as she would to be a good wife to him. Still, it seemed unfair for him to have no choice in the matter at all.

But then, why had the scripture so captured her imagination if it had not been meant for her? Why even have such a story in the Bible if not to serve as a useful guide for someone in the future? She could not imagine God allowing a story in his book that served no useful purpose. It was undoubtedly there to give guidance to women like herself, who otherwise might have no opportunity of getting married.

The man beside her suddenly made a noise in his sleep and rolled over. His arm came in contact with her body and he immediately clutched her to himself.

Hannah nearly screamed in fright. In the Bible story Boaz had awakened at
midnight
to find Ruth. "Please don't let Will wake up!" she begged silently.

Her prayers seemed to be answered, he slept on with her tucked into his chest. How could he sleep like that without noticing her? Surely it was a sign that they were meant to be together. They already slept like old married people.

With that she began to relax. She was right to do this, she was sure now. After the worries of the past hours and with the most important day of her life coming tomorrow, Hannah slept.

 
CHAPTER 2

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H
enry Lee Watson stood in the door of Reverend Bunch's wellhouse with his hands raised high over his head.

Damn!
he swore to himself. He knew he had no business hanging out with these churchgoers. Now he'd really bought himself a peck of trouble.

He prided himself on being a man who could control his temper. His father would nearly tear the house down in fits of rage. Vowing never to be like him, except for an occasional unexpected expletive, Henry Lee had learned to maintain a calm control.

It enabled him to keep his peace as a semicircle of angry men surrounded him. Not one face was softened by sympathy. Out in the middle of the fray, the preacher, a man whose good opinion he valued highly, raged at him for his duplicity. He had done nothing wrong, and he wanted the reverend to know that. But perhaps it was the Indian in him that urged him to wait and see how the land lay.

He turned his eyes on the girl. Not a girl, he decided quickly. She was obviously a woman. Her hair hanging like a long braided rope down her back, slightly mussed from sleeping, gave her a certain wanton appeal. She had modestly crossed her arms over her chest, which was exposed in the thin summer nightgown. But from Henry Lee's perspective, the morning sun shone through her skimpy covering, distinctly displaying her feminine charms. She was a tall woman, but her limbs were neither lanky nor coltish. Through the shiny veil of cotton he could see the outline of strong, well-turned legs and shapely thighs. He wondered why her family didn't take care to cover her. Shouldn't one of the women have brought a blanket or a shawl?

He stared at her for long moments, his clear blue eyes trying to understand the look of bewilderment in hers. She had set him up. It was obvious. But he didn't know what he could do about it. None of these men would believe it, he was sure. It was difficult for him to believe himself. He could still feel the heat from her body on the front of his shirt. Hatred would be the appropriate reaction to this little tramp; he should be boiling with fury. But as he looked at her lost, incredulous expression, he felt only pity. She seemed to be worsening the situation, with her nonsense about his love for her. The crowd had enough of a spectacle at their expense, it was time for him to take charge.

Henry Lee dropped his hands to his side. With a close eye on his back, he reached into the wellhouse and retrieved Hannah's wrapper from the floor. He walked toward her slowly. He sensed her fear and was careful not to make any threatening moves. If she were to visibly flinch in front of this crowd, they might lynch him as a rapist. He draped the cover around her shoulders with the gentle courtesy of a man who knows to treat even the shadiest lady with special respect. Looking straight into Hannah's eyes, he saw vulnerability that rode ill on the starchy spinster's face. Her lower lip trembled slightly, causing a well of protectiveness to surge through Henry Lee. He turned to her stepmother and spoke with careful politeness.

"Mrs. Bunch, you had better take Miss Hannah up to the house. If the preacher intends to kill me it's not a thing that she should see." He watched as she was led away from the confrontation, too overwhelmed with the calamity that she had produced to protest.

Myrtie and Hannah's sisters-in-law, June, Velma, and Earline, were waiting a few feet away. All of their faces registered stunned disbelief.

"Oh, Hannah, are you all right?" Myrtie asked.

"Fine," she answered absently. "I'm fine," she said more strongly. Hannah turned to look back at the scene she had left, the men seemed to be closing in around Henry Lee, itching for trouble. She saw her youngest brother, Rafe, well-known for being a hothead, step right in front of Henry Lee, their faces not more than two inches apart. She felt a wave of guilt. This was all her doing and she'd left him to answer for her.

"Violet, you can't let them hurt Mr. Watson, it's not his fault," she pleaded with her stepmother.

"Not his fault!" Velma snorted. "Heavens above! Do you expect us to believe that an innocent, Christian woman forced herself upon a man with a questionable reputation?" The others nodded their heads in agreement.

Hannah couldn't expect them to believe it, even though it was absolutely true.