Authors: Pamela Morsi
"THERE WAS A skunk there, I tell you!" Meggie's eyes were narrow with fury and her voice was strident with frustration.
"If you say they was a skunk, Meggie, I believe ye," her father answered. His throaty chuckle, however, belied his words.
She looked across to Roe who was silently leading the mule, Jesse at his side. He'd said nothing, nothing, since the unfortunate incident at the Marrying Stone. But then, nearly everything in the world had already been said.
"Was it a polecat or a civvy cat?" Jesse asked.
Her brother seemed to be the only one on the mountain who had taken their excuse for jumping the Marrying Stone at face value. Unfortunately, what Jesse thought was not held in high esteem in the community.
"I don't know which it was," Meggie answered. "I didn't take that long to look at it."
"Did you get a look at it, Roe?"
"Well, yes, I suppose I did. It
was
a skunk."
"Polecat or civvy cat?"
"What's the difference?" Roe asked.
The young man shrugged. "They's both skunks, I mean they put out a stink just alike," Jesse explained. "But the polecat is all black with a white stripe down the middle. When he goes to spray ye, he arches his back like some cat or something. The civvy cat has lots of stripes or spots, usually one running along each shoulder. And when he takes a notion to spray you, he does a handstand on his front legs."
"You're joking."
Jesse shook his head. "Ain't no joke, Roe, you can ask Pa."
Roe shook his head. "I didn't take time to notice its stripes, but I do know the thing didn't do any handstand."
"It was probably a coon," Onery said.
"I told you it was a skunk!" Meggie's words were nearly screeched.
Onery chuckled again.
Her frustration was understandable.
From the moment she had realized why everyone was staring at them so, Meggie had tried, unsuccessfully, to explain their impromptu jump.
"Skunk?" Orv Winsloe questioned. "If you saw a skunk up there, where did it go?"
Pigg Broody chuckled. "It went right back to fantasy land where it come from." He spit a large jaw of tobacco for emphasis. "Ain't no skunk nor no other varmint gonna come this close to a noisy crowd of folks."
Buell Phillips readily agreed. And if that wasn't bad enough, Tom McNees, who could never be counted upon to agree with the Piggott kin on anything, found the skunk story as incredible as the rest of them.
Meggie, shaking her head in disbelief, tried to reason with the crowd. "Why else would we have jumped like that?" she asked.
Knowing smiles and titters of laughter were her reply. Granny Piggott spoke up with what the others were thinking. "Meggie Best, ever' one of us knows you'd been pining away for years for some stranger to come up the mountain to court ye. Now this fellow is finally come, and I guess you just wanted to make sure you got your mark on him before one of these other gals ketched his eye."
Openmouthed and dumbfounded, Meggie looked over at Roe in horror. His expression was so disconcerted, it was almost as if he agreed with the rest of them.
"Roe!" she exclaimed.
"Hear that," Beulah Winsloe said knowingly. "She's already calling him by his given name."
Farley finally snapped out of his state of shock and offered his defense. "We saw a skunk," he stated unequivocally. "It came right up behind us and we were forced to jump."
"Maybe the Good Lord sent that critter your way?" Pastor Jay offered.
"What?"
"Pastor Jay, Mr. Farley and me are not thinking to marry."
"We certainly are not," Roe agreed with conviction. Meggie was embarrassed at his vehemence and was tempted to give him a swift kick in the shin.
"But you jumped the Marrying Stone," the aging cleric said evenly as if that settled everything.
"The Marrying Stone is no legal wedding," Meggie countered.
"The gal is right about that," Buell Phillips announced with exaggerated self-importance. "As Justice of the Peace, I can tell you certain that this couple ain't wed 'til I fill out the paper."
"We don't want you to fill out the paper!" Meggie said. "We don't want to marry. We were just trying to get away from a skunk." She looked around anxiously at the crowd. There wasn't a face that expressed belief in her words.
"Pa!" she called out finally, seeking the last resort of young women everywhere, Daddy's help.
"Now, Buell, Granny, Pastor Jay," Onery said calmly as he moved up through the crowd, "let's not all go off half cocked here." His limp was more pronounced than earlier, but his eyes were twinkling with sheer delight. "If the younguns say they ain't married, then they ain't."
Granny Piggott huffed loudly. "They jumped the Marrying Stone. That was a weddin' for me, Onery Best, and for you and the gal's mamma, too."
"We jumped the stone 'cause we
wanted
to," Onery answered. "Weren't no skunk a-chasing us."
Pigg Broody spit another loud shot of tobacco. "They wasn't no skunk."
"There was a skunk!" Roe and Meggie answered in unison.
Onery chuckled. "If'n these younguns is seeing skunks, they's seeing skunks. Ye cain't make 'em man and wife because of it."
The people had finally allowed themselves to be talked out of a wedding, but gossips were still whispering when the Best family gathered up their belongings and headed for home. Polly Trace had hurried over to Meggie when she was out of sight of the crowd and hugged her.
"You clever gal," she said, giggling excitedly. "You sure showed that Eda. I swear I thought the gal was going to swaller her teeth when she saw you two had made the jump together."
Meggie didn't even bother to try to defend herself. She knew that Polly didn't believe her any more than anyone else had. It
was
curious for a skunk, or any woods critter for that matter, to walk up on a noisy gathering of folks. But it
had
been a skunk. She had seen it, she knew. Her brow furrowed with concern. If she was beginning to doubt it, what was Roe thinking? He'd said that he'd seen it, but was he believing now that she'd tricked him?
A flush of red-tinted humiliation stained her cheeks. After the way she'd thrown herself at him that first day and then letting him kiss her again tonight, he might just think that she'd tried to trick him into jumping the Stone with her. She shuddered with embarrassment, then, thankfully, sanity prevailed.
Jumping the Stone was an old superstition. Neither of them believed it and it meant nothing. And there
was
a skunk.
When they arrived back at the cabin it was very late. As Roe and Jesse stabled the sloe-eyed mule, Meggie helped her father into the house. His bad leg had stiffened up on the long ride and he could hardly walk.
Once she'd helped him into bed, she unrolled her own tick and blankets and kneeling down she began spreading them on the floor. Her father groaned slightly with his sore muscles as he turned over in the bed and watched her work.
"You'd better be making that pallet a little bigger, Meggie-gal. Now that you're a married woman and all."
"Pa!"
His only reply was a low, hearty chuckle.
It was a private little joke between father and daughter; unfortunately it was at that moment that Roe and Jesse stepped through the door.
Meggie watched Roe's dark-eyed glance take in her disheveled appearance as she knelt in the lamplight. Then his attention strayed to the low, clover tick pallet at her knees. His gaze stayed overlong before it skittered back to Meggie's own. A strange thrill passed through her heart like the dizzy dash of a dozen hungry hummingbirds. She saw desire in his eyes and she felt it in her own throbbing veins.
"Pa was making a joke," she explained unnecessarily.
Roe cleared his throat. "It just isn't very funny anymore, Onery," he answered, addressing the man in the bed. "I suggest that we drop this subject completely and forget that it ever happened."
Onery chuckled again. "I won't be saying another word," he promised. "Course, I cain't control what other folks'll be saying."
Meggie knew that he was right. And as the long sleepless night progressed and she lay wide-eyed in her lonely pallet, she found that she could not forget that it happened either.
They had been so close there for those few long moments. It had felt so good. The quiet camaraderie of a man who had seen and done things that Meggie couldn't imagine. And sharing with him the realities of her own world. And maybe, maybe for a moment when he kissed her she had pretended that he cared for her, that he was her beau and that they had slipped off to the Marrying Stone to be alone and share little secrets.
She heard the creak of pine planks above her as if someone rolled over in the loft. She knew it was Roe, even if she hadn't been able to hear the familiar rhythmic snore she recognized as Jesse's; she knew that Roe was no more able to sleep this night than was she. Her father's teasing words had seen to that.
The sweet taste of his kiss stayed with her. The short, stiff remains of whiskers on his upper lip made stark contrast to the warm softness of his mouth. He had not just wanted to kiss her. He had wanted her as a husband wants a wife, in that private, naked way that she could hardly imagine. And she had wanted him that way, too.
Even in the privacy of her pallet covers, Meggie still managed to blush. She couldn't think about this anymore. She didn't want to think about it anymore. Determinedly, she sought her normal place of refuge from the realities of the world, the fantasies. Tonight, she decided, she would imagine herself as a mysterious princess, completely veiled and hidden from view. Three strong, handsome lancers would be vying for her hand, loving her, sight unseen, just for the beauty of her melodious cultured voice.
Meggie smiled at the situation. It was a good one, guaranteed to take her mind off the worrisome present. But as the first lancer removed his helmet, her heart stopped. It was J. Monroe Farley in knightly armaments. Determinedly, she shifted her attention to the second soldier in attendance.
But as he bowed before her and revealed his face, he too was J. Monroe Farley.
"I choose him!" she announced loudly, pointing toward the third man, yet unknown to her. He walked toward her and the evening's shadow left his visage. With jet-black hair and spectacles perched upon his nose, he bowed gracefully over her hand.
"I'd swear that God can see most anything that goes on at the top of this mountain," he said.
"Oh!"
With a huff, Meggie sat up in her pile of coverlets and shook her head. She couldn't even escape her thoughts in daydreams anymore. She covered her face with her hands and sighed. She was weary and droop-eyed, but still she couldn't sleep. Morning was coming in a hurry and the problem that she and Roe had inadvertently created last night would still be with them.
Again she heard the creaking of the boards in the loft above her. She could not wish it away if she wanted to. And she was honest enough with herself to know that she didn't really want to.
Meggie was squint-eyed and yawning the next morning. She was the first one to leave the cabin; heading for the upground woods, her mind was gratefully blank in the gray darkness still a half hour before dawn. The sleepless night had left a weariness that was numbing, and in its own way a comfort.
Through the honesty of the long night she had tried to sort out her feelings and make sense of what had happened. Roe Farley was definitely the finest-looking man that she'd ever seen. And he was a kind fellow, too. She was sure of that by the way he befriended her brother and treated him like an equal. He was smart, too. There was no denying that, and Meggie had always thought that a man for her would have to be at least as smart as she was. He was capable of deep feelings and contemplations. She'd recognized that in him as they talked on the Marrying Stone. And despite her attempts to dispel the memory, she couldn't quite forget the hot, sweet taste of his lips on hers.
As she found herself a private place among the sumac bushes, she imagined herself in an intimate embrace with Roe Farley. He would be shy and unsure, she thought. Undoubtedly she would have to coax him into touching her. But it would be gentle and sweet, and being held so close in his arms would be worth the embarrassment of having to pull up her dress and expose her legs.
Meggie headed back to the homestead. Her mind was now completely in the clouds as she imagined herself in a bright blue wedding gown being carried across the threshold of the cabin in the arms of J. Monroe Farley. He was nervously declaring his love for her and begging, as if he were one of the love-stung lancers, for the honor of her touch. She smiled slightly and hummed with pleasure at the thought. His hands would move, slow and hesitant, across her trembling skin. And his kiss would be light and soft against her lips. She shivered sensually. It was a fine fancy, a pleasant diversion. It wasn't meant to come true, of course. Daydreams were simply to be enjoyed, an innocent pastime that hurt no one. The thought of Roe Farley's arms around her was warm and welcome. So much so that a soft sigh escaped her lips as she made her way across the yard.
This sweet spell and unthinking sense of well-being was abruptly shattered, however, as she walked past the clothesline that was strung from the edge of the mule shed to a crosspole at the side of the small clearing that was the cabin yard.
Stunned, she stood staring in frozen amazement for a long moment. Then with a cry of abhorrent dismay, Meggie hurried over to view the horrific sight more closely. A plump, young turkey, already plucked and cleaned, hung by its ugly red feet on the clothesline. Its long gobbler neck was stretched full length and the bird's head nearly touched the ground as it swayed back and forth in the morning breeze. Next to the bird, a brightly colored piece quilt, damp with dew, fluttered slightly. On the ground near the crosspole a barrel of sorghum sat invitingly. A sack of flour leaned against it and a half peck of coffee beans sat on top. In every direction around the pole more items were stacked. There was a big smoked ham, a strip of hand-tooled leather mule harness, jars of egg preserves and pickled pigs' feet, a thin box of store-bought vellum writing paper, and a shiny new cooking riddle. Tears formed in Meggie's eyes. The sight— one that she had dreamed about since she was a little girl—-was suddenly so unwelcome.