Courting Miss Hattie (46 page)
Row by row, marker by marker, the fields were slowly denuded of the bright white balls. By midway through Hattie's second day on the job, all the fields had been picked over, and the second walk through for the late-blooming boils commenced.
* * *
The wind slapped the clothes wildly as Hattie hurried to retrieve them from the clothesline. Off to the northwest, the sky was so dark it looked almost purple, and the smell of rain hung heavy in the air.
"I hope Reed gets back before this cloud lets loose," Hattie said to
Myrene
, who followed in her wake.
The pickers had finished just after
Uncle Ed and the rice crew had arrived at the
Tylers
', and Reed and Harm had worked frantically shoring up the levee so that the rice field would be dry on schedule.
After two weeks of hectic activity and crowds of people, Hattie, alone on her little farm, had found the afternoon strangely quiet. Unexpectedly the memory of her former life and the solitary future
to
which she had resigned herself years before crept into her thoughts. She wondered how she could have imagined herself content with such loneliness. Today, after only a few hours of her own company, she looked forward eagerly to her husband's return.
After dropping the last of the clothes into the basket, Hattie shooed
Myrene
out of her way and scurried into the house, the ominous sound of thunder loud on her heels.
Reed and Harm had done some early celebrating the previous evening, congratulating each other on the growth of the rice and the anticipated harvest. "The field is dry now," Harmon had said excitedly. "I don't think we'll have any trouble getting that machinery in there in a day or two."
"It's going to be rich harvest, isn't it?" Reed asked, already knowing the answer.
Harmon laughed. "Turpin tells me nearly every day that it's a waste of my time and
the
foolest
dumb notion you ever had to try growing rice in good cotton country."
"That old man has been telling me the same thing for years," Reed said laughing with Harmon. "He just refuses to believe that things can ever change."
"Well, I expect he'll get used to it," Harmon replied. "Bess and I have come as quite a shock to her father. I don't think he's quite as sure about anything anymore."
"I know," Reed said confidently, "that Turpin and the rest of this community are going to be laughing out of the other side of their mouths when they see what we'll make on this little patch of rice."
"It does feel good to have everybody say you're wrong and be able to prove that you're right!"
"Shame on the both of you," Hattie said as she set plates of cobbler before them. "What a pair of boastful sinners you are. Showing off before the neighbors is what little boys want to do. Men and women don't need such childishness."
Harmon blushed at her words. Only nineteen, he was sensitive to aspersions on his youthfulness. Reed, however, suffered no such mistaken impression of the maturity level of his new bride.
Grabbing Hattie around the waist, he pulled her
to
him, her hip tight against his shoulder. "Do tell us, Mrs. Tyler," he said, looking up at his wife expectantly, "exactly what you're going
to
say to Mr.
Ancil
Drayton, who believed your interest in rice to be a bit of female foolishness and vowed to drain that field and plant it in cotton."
Placing her hands together as primly as a matron, Hattie gave each man a serious look before replying. "I will simply look Mr. Drayton in the eye and say to him what any rational adult would say
. '
Nanny-
hanny-poo
on you. Stick your head in chicken-do!'"
A burst of laughter escaped Harmon, and Reed squeezed her tight.
Hattie smiled now at the memory. It was a sin, no doubt, to want to be proven right to the whole community, but she was just human enough to want that little taste of "I told you so." As another bolt of lightning sent eerie shadows through the house and thunder crashed loudly enough to make her jump, she wondered if their feeling of victory had been a bit presumptuous.
By the time Reed arrived back at the house over an hour later, Hattie was dismally watching the rain fall in buckets.
Water cascaded from Reed's hat like a waterfall as he crossed the yard to the back door. He didn't even bother to hurry his step since he was already soaked to the skin.
When he reached the porch, Hattie was there to meet him, a towel in her hand. "Don't even bother to come in," she said bossily. "There's no need for you to track up the house."
"You want me to stay outside till I dry out?" he asked in disbelief.
Her laugh was a cheery light in the gloomy afternoon. "That won't be necessary. Just take off those wet clothes and drop them in the
washbucket
. I've got a nice hot bath waiting for you in the kitchen."
His expression turning to one of delightful appreciation, Reed tossed his hat on a nail and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. "I'll tell you the truth, Hattie," he said, a teasing
lilt
to his voice. "If I'd have known that married men have hot baths waiting for them when they get caught out in the rain, I'd have married up years ago."
Dropping his sodden shirt into the washtub, his suspenders dangling
at
his sides, Reed reached for the buttons on his pants. He stopped abruptly and looked up at his wife, who continued to stand in the doorway. "You're going to watch?" His words were as much a challenge as a question.
She leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms across her chest. "Uh-huh."
The two looked at each other for a moment, teasing smiles on both faces. Reed's fingers made quick work of the buttons at his fly, but he had to squat to remove his
workshoes
before he could divest himself of the water-logged britches. When they lay in a dripping heap atop his shirt, he stood before her in his underwear. His summer balbriggans clung damply to him like a second skin, displaying his form rather than concealing it. Quickly he unbuttoned the undershirt and slung it into the washtub. The swirls of damp hair on his chest captured Hattie's attention, and her fingers itched to touch him.
As if sensing the change in her scrutiny, Reed slowed his hands as he fingered the buttons
at
the front of his drawers. With deliberate leisure, he eased the first button through its housing, intently watching Hattie. Her eyes were fixed with hot expectation on his body, and her gaze had the unanticipated result of arousing him.
He bent
forward,
hiding the effect she had on him, and stripped the wet cotton from his buttocks, thighs, and legs. Discarding the balbriggans in the washtub, he glanced back
at
her. She still watched him, unashamed.
"Hattie, what have I done to you?" he asked as he straightened, revealing his swollen erection. "You're acting downright scandalous for a farmer's wife."
Her smile revealed only delight. "Do you really think so?" Reed Tyler stood buck naked on his back porch in the pouring rain and stared at his wife, his hands on his hips. "Positively indecent, Mrs. Tyler," he said,
then
walked toward her until his cold nakedness was pressed against the warm softness of her gown. "And, Hattie," he whispered, seeking warm sweet peaches from her lips, "I thank the Lord for it every night."
Tenderly, lovingly, Hattie returned his kisses as she wrapped his loins in the soft dry towel. When she finally broke the kiss, she gazed into his teasing cinnamon eyes and offered her own snippet. "Your bath, O noble yeoman farmer, awaits thee in the kitchen," she said with great pretense of submission.
His grin widening, Reed slipped an arm behind his wife's knees and lifted her high against his chest as he stepped across the threshold of his house. "I do believe, O pliant and meek helpmate," he said, enjoying her little game, "that it is due time to ascertain if yon bathtub is big enough for two!"
Hattie began to laugh, struggle, and protest. The sounds of a shriek and a splash a moment later were drowned by the torrent of rain and thunder overhead.
CHAPTER
24
W
hen Reed rolled out of bed at dawn the next morning, his mood was less playful. He gave Hattie a gentle pat on the bottom as she passed him on the way to the kitchen, but it was obvious his thoughts were elsewhere. Although it was past sunup, the clouds and the rain left the kitchen as dark as a cave.
Hattie lit the lamp, producing a strange glow in the gloomy morning. "It's been raining all night," she said, question in her tone.
He was clearly concerned. "This is going to slow us down a lot. With a frog-strangler like this, it will take a week to dry that field."
"Your Uncle Ed won't appreciate being stuck here another week."
"He won't like it any more than me, but he'll stay around,
I reckon. I just hate to have to wait."
Understanding his disappointment, Hattie left him to his own thoughts as she stoked the fire in the stove and put the coffee on to boil. When that was done, she headed for the back porch, reaching for her slicker.
"Where do you think you're going?" Reed asked, walking up behind her as he adjusted his suspenders on his shoulders.
"
Myrene
will be slogging through the rain in another fifteen minutes
if
I
don't get down to the barn and milk her."
Taking the slicker from her hand, he shooed her back into the house. "I'm going to have to go out there anyway, and there is surely no reason for both of us to get wet this morning."
Hattie put her hands on her hips, as if ready to argue. "You're just hoping that
if
you get wet again, I'll give you another bath."
His grin was wide and wicked. "I'd roll in pig manure if I thought I get another one like last night!"
As she watched him hurrying to the barn, Hattie felt a peculiar fluttering inside her. "I love you, Reed Tyler," she said aloud for no one to hear. "I don't care
if
you just married me for my land. I'm only glad I had it, 'cause I can't imagine ever being this happy without you."
She and Reed had barely finished their breakfast when someone pounded on the front door. "Harmon!" Hattie exclaimed when she saw the half-drowned man on the porch. "Come in the house and get dried off."
Harm peeled off his oilcloth and draped it across the porch swing before carefully wiping his feet and stepping into Hattie's parlor.
"You've been down to the levee?" Reed asked. Harm nodded. "How bad is it?"
"It's bad," Harmon said gravely. "The river's running almost as high as before, and if it doesn't stop soon, it's going to start seeping through the levee."
Hattie's jaw dropped open in shock.
"If that levee goes," Harmon added, "we'll lose the whole crop."