Courting Miss Hattie (29 page)
T
he dancing continued after
Ancil's
impromptu announcement. Hattie was snatched up by several of the farmers for a turn around the floor in honor of her upcoming nuptials. Reed watched her laughing and twirling in the arms of his friends and neighbors. In all the years he'd known her, he didn't remember ever watching her dance.
He was standing beside Arthur Turpin near the fiddler's wagon, along with a group of men, many of whom were smoking and all of whom were avoiding the ladies. When
Ancil
walked up, the backslapping continued unabated for a minute, until Arthur spoke. "This must
be
your lucky day, Drayton,"
he
said. "I heard you won twenty-five dollars at the chicken fights."
Ancil
shrugged good-naturedly. "When Lady Luck and a good rooster are on your side, it ain't
no
time to question."
"Both the damn birds
I
picked didn't have the spirit of a prissy-pants sissy," Arthur complained. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a gamecock that's scared of the sight of its own blood."
"Heard you lost a bundle,"
Ancil
said. "What's your wife going to say about that?"
"My
wife don't
run me," Arthur boasted. "I run her." Looking to the other men, he jokingly added, "If she gives me trouble, I run her off."
With the bluster of male camaraderie supporting them, all the men found it easy to join in the joke.
"That's something you're going to have to remember," Arthur said, "now that you're tying the knot,
Ancil
."
Ancil
scowled in annoyance. "You ain't talking to
no
green kid. I been married
before,
and I know exactly how to handle a woman."
His bragging was accepted amiably by the other men. He wasn't going to allow any teasing about being a new bridegroom, so Arthur decided to see how he'd do with teasing about his new bride. "So you are really marrying Miss Hattie?"
"Yep, sure am,"
Ancil
answered easily. "I suspect it's about the smartest move I ever made."
Arthur nodded. "I guess with all those children to
raise
, you would need a woman of some kind."
Ancil
laughed. Something about the sound of it caught Reed's attention. "My Mary Nell could raise those kids right enough. That ain't my reason for marrying up."
Arthur chuckled. "Got a lonely bed up there on the hill, you saying?"
"Oh, I don't expect
Horseface
Hattie to be much of a thrill in the blankets,"
Ancil
said. "Though to my way of thinking, you put a bag over her head, you can't tell one woman much from another."
A roar of laughter burst from Arthur Turpin, and the other men followed suit. "Now, I don't wholly agree with that," Arthur said. "Some women
is
like holding a bag of sticks, and others is more like squeezing a tub of lard."
That comment was met by hoots and agreement.
"Hattie ain't neither of those,"
Ancil
said boastfully. "I checked it out as best she would let me." Glancing at her as she spun in Cal Tyler's arms, he stated, "There ain't no bustle in the back nor ruffles in the front. What there
is
of her out there, fellows, are honest-to-God body parts."
Reed stood frozen in shock, as this group of dirty-talking men that he had always considered friends gaped at Hattie, assessing her as if she were some brood sow at the livestock show. He was tempted to run over and throw his coat around her, to hide her from the gaze of his fellow farmers turned reprobates. "Drayton," he said finally, "I don't believe that's any way for you to be talking about the woman you hope to marry." The anger in his voice was unmistakable.
Ancil
flushed at the criticism. He hadn't realized
Tyler
was there. The other men also suffered a moment's embarrassment, knowing that Reed considered Miss Hattie another one of his sisters.
"I didn't mean
no
disrespect,"
Ancil
said.
Reed couldn't imagine how his words could mean anything else. "Miss Hattie is a fine, gentle Christian lady, and you're talking about her like she's some hussy from
Memphis
."
Ancil
was bent on defending himself. "A man doesn't marry up with a woman without having a carnal thought or two. I suspect those little walks you take with Bessie Jane wouldn't bear close scrutiny."
"Now wait just a minute there," Arthur Turpin said, ready to do battle over his daughter's good name.
"I don't mean
nothing
, Arthur,"
Ancil
said soothingly. "What I'm saying is just the truth. A couple is going to do a little sparking, a little spooning. There ain't nobody would be surprised at that."
"A man doesn't talk about his woman in front of other men," Reed said. "Not if he's got feelings for her."
"Wasn't that what I was just talking about, feeling for her?"
An explosion of laughter ripped around him, and Reed felt the cold anger settle more deeply in his bones. He wanted to rip Drayton's self-satisfied
snaggle
-toothed grin off his face, but he held his peace. Taking deep breaths, he tried to remind himself that this man was Hattie's intended.
"So Miss Hattie is all
woman
?" Arthur said. "I often wonder about those quiet hardworking types."
"She's woman enough,"
Ancil
said. "I'm sure everyone was curious about why I would marry old
Horseface
when there are plenty of younger, prettier women around."
Reed blanched at the man's casual use of the nickname. Seeing in his mind Hattie's tears when she'd told him about the boys' cruelty to her, he clenched his fists.
"Her name is Miss Hattie," he said between gritted teeth.
Ancil
glowered at him. "She's my intended, Reed. I can call her anything I please, and it's nothing to you."
"I might make it something," he threatened.
"Reed, come on now, boy," Arthur intervened. "People have been calling her
Horseface
since she was a girl. It ain't like
Ancil
made up the name."
"I don't like it," Reed said quietly, dangerously. "I don't want to hear it."
"There's no call to get yourself stirred up," Arthur began.
But
Ancil
interrupted him.
"
It's
okay, Arthur. I understand why Reed's got a burr up his butt, and it ain't got
nothing
to do with Hattie's nickname."
Ancil
smiled at Reed with snide confidence. "It seems that Reed is the only one that's already figured out exactly why I married Hattie."
"What do you mean?" Arthur asked him.
"You tell them,
Tyler
,"
Ancil
taunted. "What in the world could a long-in-the-tooth old maid have that a man could want?"
Reed stared at him dumbly, not knowing what he was getting at.
"You claiming you don't know?"
Ancil
snorted in disbelief. "You been nice to that old maid for years for the very same reason."
Glancing around the group, he announced in a tone that stated the obvious, "
Horseface
owns the finest piece of ground in this county."
The men stared back at him, silent and stunned. Miss Hattie's land was some of the best, none would question that. But the suggestion that the kind, friendly woman they'd all known for years was being wed for a piece of real estate didn't sit well.
Ancil
correctly gauged the tenor of the group and threw the unwanted criticism elsewhere. "
Tyler
's wanted that land all his life. He's worked his fingers near to the bone on it for years now and nearly
sweat
blood trying to buy it."
Letting the words settle around him,
Ancil
looked at Reed and shrugged unkindly. "Sorry,
Tyler
. When Hattie Colfax says 'I do,' that farm will be mine, no money down."
Now the men stared at Reed. He hadn't thought about the land. Hattie had promised to sell it to him, and he'd never given it a thought again. All the time she'd been courting, it hadn't occurred to him that a husband might not be willing to let him have it. He should have realized it, but he hadn't. He had Hattie's word on the sale, but he knew Drayton was right. Once they were married it would be his decision, and what Hattie had agreed to wouldn't mean a thing. Drayton would never sell it. It was twice as good as the land he now held, and putting the two together would make him one of the bigger land owners in the county. He'd be a fool to let it go.
As Reed's silence dragged on, the suspense got too much for Arthur. Slapping Reed on the back, he said, "I know it's a disappointment, boy, but that ain't the only land in
"I'm a farmer, Arthur," Reed said, his brain still spinning from Drayton's revelation. "I've worked the land all my
life,
and I'll continue to do that."
"If you're thinking to get her to sell it to you before we're wed,"
Ancil
said, "I'd ask you not to. I'll not have her without that land, and breaking off the engagement would be a big embarrassment for Miss Hattie."
Reed paled at the threat, imagining the humiliation Hattie would face. "There's other land," he said calmly.
"I thought you'd see it that way, Reed."
Ancil's
tone was conciliatory. "I have great respect for Miss Hattie. My children like her, and she's a hard worker. I see no reason why we shouldn't have a fine marriage."
The men around him nodded solemnly in apparent agreement. Reed felt a cold pit of anger open up in his gut, but he fought down the feeling and purposely kept his voice even and reasonable. "Will you
be wanting
me to stay on another year to tend the rice?" he asked. "The crop is new to you, but I expect you could learn enough to handle it yourself in a growing season."
"Rice?" Drayton laughed. "Good Lord, Tyler, you don't actually expect somebody else to take up that crazy scheme of yours?"
"It's not a crazy scheme," Reed said. "Rice is the crop of the future. They've learned how to mechanize the growing and harvesting so that one man can farm a hundred acres.
That's what we need, a crop that doesn't take an army of hands to tend it."
Ancil
scoffed. "Hands may be a problem to a bachelor like you, Tyler. But
us
married men grow our own." Smiling, he glanced around at the other men, then added, "I've done got seven out of my first wife, and I suspect Miss Hattie's still young enough to whelp a brat or two."
The image of Hattie swelled with child filled Reed's mind, but he tamped it down. "That may be so," he said, "but the canals and levees have already been built. Miss Hattie's invested a goodly amount of money in the crop already."
"Like pouring water down a
rathole
,"
Ancil
said,
then
rephrased it, attempting a joke. "Like pouring water down a rice hole!"
The laughter was weak, several of the men still concerned about Reed's temper.
"I'll be draining that nasty rice swamp you've made,
Tyler
,"
Ancil
told him. "I'm planting cotton in that field."
"Cotton?" Reed was incredulous. "You can't plant cotton in that silt."
"It'll grow there just fine."
"Sure it will for a year or two. But it won't hold the ground. Ten years from now, that whole field will be clogging up somebody's bayou down past
New Orleans
."
Ancil
shrugged, unconcerned. "That's the way of farming. You use the land until it's used up. Nothing stays the same forever."
"Not the same," Reed agreed, "but you don't have to destroy it. Don't you read the
Farmer's
Bulletins?"
Ancil
bristled. "I done forgot more about farming than the sassy city slickers that write them bulletins will ever know. I don't waste my time on newfangled ideas from back east somewhere."
Silence widened around him as the men in the crowd mentally switched to Reed's side. The
Farmer's Bulletin
was widely read and revered, second only to the Bible.
"Does Miss Hattie know you plan to plant her rice field in cotton?" Reed asked.
Scowling with unspoken menace.
Ancil
said, "What is between my woman and me is none of your concern,
Tyler
."