Iris woke early
next morning. She stretched carefully, to avoid attracting a volley of abuse
from her mother-in-law, and suddenly realised that she had no mother-in-law to
worry about. She was in her own home, her old home, again, with only Uriah and
her unborn child to concern herself about. She stretched again, luxuriously
this time, and found herself backed up against Uriah. She judged that it must
be somewhere midway between four and five, maybe a bit earlier, by the way the
cabin was still mostly dark, with just a fitful glimmer of light at the
windows.
Uriah stretched in
his turn, surfacing with a kind of snuffling sound. He turned on their
mattress, and reached out for her, putting his hand to her belly as though to
reassure himself that his progeny was alive and well inside her, and a moment
later they were embracing in a way they had never previously embraced of a
wakening, and it was a pleasure for both of them.
She savoured her
enjoyment to the full, and then rolled away from him, for she was both a wife
and a practical woman, and there was work to be done. �You go see to yer needs,
husband, while I fix you coffee and biscuits.�
Uriah was busy
trying to pull her up against him again, but he stopped. Iris had baked him a
plate of biscuits the previous night, to accompany his catfish, and they had
been light, and airy, popping in his mouth like small dreams, and infinitely
better than any his mother had ever made.
�Mebbe with some
fried eggs and a coupla nice thick slices of bacon, if you move fast.� Iris
beamed, and then bit her lip. She hoped she was not giving a hostage to
fortune, because hens can be tricksy birds, and sometimes need a little time to
settle in, and become familiar with their surroundings. But she reckoned they
would have been busy enough laying, seeing as they were back in their old home,
and safely out of Capitola�s reach. She also reckoned she would be able to find
their eggs as easily in the half light of dawn as the full light of day, and
she knew Woodrow had left a ham and part of a side of good bacon in the
smokehouse - maybe he had figured on keeping the cabin as a refuge. Bacon and
eggs would start Uriah�s day well.
She watched him
stand, and stretch, and head for the cabin door, and knew she was gaining the
measure of her man. She had won a righteous battle in prizing him away from his
parents, in particular from his mother, and she intended keeping her victory.
Uriah might not be the best in the world, but her was her man, and the father
of her unborn child, and she intended making of him what she could. She would
feed him well, because she also liked to eat well, she would support him, as
she expected his muscle and labour to provide for her, and she would pleasure
him in the measure that she enjoyed being pleasured. She would bear his child,
and make the best of the world around her. However she also knew that she must
manage him with care. She had learned in a hard way that he could be quick to
violence when angered, with a fiery and unpredictable temper born from his
mother. She did not doubt that they might face difficult moments in the future.
She took a deep breath, and blew hard on the few embers that still smouldered
in a corner of the stove. Life must always be what you made of it, and she
would try her very best to make it good.
Uriah returned just
as she was coaxing the stove into a good blaze. She waved at the coffee mill.
�Grind me up a handful of beans, husband, that�s man�s work for you.� She
smiled impishly. �I�m goin� after those eggs.�
She found half a
dozen, just where she had expected, and returned in triumph. �Right, husband.
You go out and fodder Daisy and the mules, whilst I get to fixin�.
Iris spent the next
half hour or so in a burst of energy. She brewed up coffee, and mixed up milk
and flour and lard for her biscuits, fried four eggs, along with a couple of
big slices of side meat, and felt proud of herself in her activity. Feeding
Woodrow had always been a chore, starting off a day for a grumpy and often
hung-over old man. But she regarded feeding Uriah in the same light as she
regarded feeding Daisy, or the hens, or the mules. She was readying her man for
a hard day at work.
Uriah might have had other thoughts on his mind as he
mopped the last traces of eggs from his plate. He was sated, and he felt good.
But Iris was brisk, her new head of energy propelling her forward. She pushed
him away as he attempted to sidle close to her when she was clearing the table.
�No, husband, we
both got work to do.� She pushed him towards the cabin door. �You go talk to
your Paw, and settle what mules we can have, whilst I feed and milk Daisy, and
see to the chickens. Then we gotta find ourselves a new rooster, and you might
go over Roy Cline�s, on the other side of the hill, and see if you can trade
some of yer �shine fer a coupla shoats. We could do with some more good bacon
come cold weather times. Mebbe they�ll have a cockerel to go as well. Then you
go can tek a gun out in the woods and find us a nice turkey, or mebbe a couple
of bob-white for supper. Mebbe biscuits again, �cos we ain�t got a deal to go
with it, mebbe a mess of �maters, and some squash if Woodrow left my cannin�.�
She watched Uriah hitch the two mules to the Hitts�
wagon, and pressed both her hands to her stomach. She was not in pain, like she
had heard some other women talk of pain ahead of their first delivery. But she
felt sick, deep into the pit of her stomach, with a sickness that made her
stomach churn, forcing her to spit out her bile. She sat for a moment, to
regain her strength, and then remembered Daisy. She had a cow to milk, and
feed, and muck out. She had no time for self-indulgence.
Daisy was ready and
waiting for her as she reached the barn. She patted the big Brown Swiss
companionably on her boss, dumped a scoop of grain into her manger to keep her
occupied, wiped her udder with clean water, and positioned her milk pail. Then
she lowered herself gingerly onto her milking stool. She was growing, and
sitting herself so low called for some careful maneuvering, but it was better
than having to squat. There would be a time for that later. She leaned into
Daisy, pressing against her like a nursing calf, and began her morning milking.
This was her thinking time, the time when she could
plan her day, and deal with trials and tribulations. She had figured her daily
dealings with Woodrow in her milking times, and figured her life with the
Hitts. Sometimes her figurings had caused her to wipe away an errant tear or
two. But Woodrow and Capitola and Jedediah were out of her life now, and she
would only admit them again of her own choosing.
She filled her
first pail, and started on her second. The regular spurts of milk made a
pleasing, relaxing sound. Then heard a movement from the stalls alongside the
barn and paused. Someone was out there.
�I�m goin� now.�
It was Uriah. He
must have already harnessed the two mules his father had lent him.
Iris levered herself
to her feet. �Don�t ferget the shoats an� the cockerel.�
�I won�t, ma�am.�
Something in
Uriah�s tone made her want to look into his eyes. She found him smiling,
standing by the wagon with a whip in his hand,�
and she knew in her inspection that she was paired with a fine figure of
a man. She looked down demurely, in a woman�s gesture of submission.
�Them war� good
biscuits.� Uriah paused. �An� good bacon.� He added the words reflectively, as
though pondering whether to ask for more.
Iris smiled
slightly. �Be back here when the sun�s full up.�
�Thar�ll be more?�
�Biscuits?� Her
voice was arch, for the first time since he had first taken her.
Uriah looked a
little bewildered.
�Yo� won�t hev
nobody watchin�.�
�We kin be as we
want?�
�Ain�t gonna be
nobody watchin� over yer shoulder.�
Uriah stared at
her, and then raised his hat high, executing a kind of clumsy shuffle. �Full up
in the sky?�
�When yer belly
tells yer it�s time.�
�With biscuits �n
more bacon?�
��N all yer could
be wishin�.�
Iris laughed as he
bounced up onto the wagon bench and jerked the pair of mules into a clumsy slow
gait. There is something in late summer sun that swells the needs of a woman as
much as a man, and she was now her own mistress. Uriah had forced himself on
her in the beginning, and taken her brutally. But familiarity had now tempered
them both into a need each for the other, in the moments when their blood grew
hot, and now they could create a small world of their own. Pregnancy is a
preparation, a step on the path of creation. But it is not a path that closes.
She carried her two
pails of milk back to the cabin when she was finished with Daisy, covering them
both with cloths before setting them in a corner to cool, and wondered whether
Uriah�s share from �shine would run to buying a second cow. She could run two
head on Woodrow�s land and make some handy cash from selling butter and cream
to Mr. Whiteside: the money would come in handy for buying fabric for baby
clothes. She sat down heavily at the cabin table. She liked the idea of
becoming a mother, it would give her a new purpose in life.
Then she got to her
feet again. It was no time for wasting, she had work to do. She went back to
the hen house to feed the chickens and turn them out, and then dragged the
mattress she shared with Uriah to the door and managed, with a little
difficulty, to hoist it over a rail at the end of the porch to air. Then she
fetched the big besom from the porch and swept the cabin through thoroughly.
She would wash her laundry before baking up some more biscuits, and take a look
at the peach tree. She knew there were a couple of jars of sorghum syrup in the
storehouse, and maybe she could bake up a cobbler. She imagined Uriah would
savor that - Woodrow had always praised her baking. Then she would take look at
her vegetable patch. She remembered some melons coming along, and some squash.
She and Uriah would eat properly after the misfortunes of Capitola�s cooking.
Iris screwed up her mouth in disgust. The old woman had baked biscuits into
chunks of rock, and cooked bacon straight into leather. She wondered that such
a woman had ever managed to find herself a man. Perhaps she had bewitched
Jedediah with some strange Southern love potions.
She was hanging out
her washing when Uriah returned. He came back on a mule after taking the wagon
back to Jedediah, and she could not help but burst out laughing, because he had
two sacks tied across the mule in front of him, and another tied to the cantle
of the saddle, and the sack tied across the mule in front of him was squealing
and struggling fit to all get out, whilst the second sack was flurrying angrily
and making furious clucking sounds. She hurried over to take the first of the
two sacks tied in front of him, opening it gingerly, and held it up to let the
contents fall out. A fine looking young boar rolled in the grass at her feet,
and then righted itself, blinking little piggy eyes in bewilderment. She
quickly emptied the second sack, and found herself looking down at a miniature
sow, a little smaller than its brother. The two shoats grunted a couple of
times to show their disapproval, and began to root around in the grass for
something by way of breakfast.
She smiled
approvingly. �You done good, husband.�
Uriah nodded, with
the satisfied look of a man well pleased with himself. �We�ll grow �em into
real big hogs.� He was already unfastening the sack tied to his saddle. But he
opened it with care, because an angry young cockerel can be a fearsome thing,
with spurs capable of slashing a nasty flesh wound. He placed the sack
carefully on the ground, cutting the neck a little way open with his Buck
knife, to make sufficient space for the cockerel to struggle out. It came out
with a good deal of angry clucking, and it was a fine bird, with good spurs and
a glossy mane of feathers. But it looked distinctly annoyed at having traveled
in such discomfort.
Iris ran to the
barn to fetch a scoop of grain and scattered it on the ground around them. The
sound brought some hens from scratching in the grass around the cabin, and the
cockerel took one look at the grain, another look at the hens, and knew
immediately what was expected of him.
�Well, ain�t thet a
thang.� She giggled. �He sho� knows what he�s here fer.�
Uriah advanced on
her. �I�ve got the same sort of needin�, wife.�
Iris backed away,
but provocatively, staying just out of his reach. �We gonna hev fresh
biscuits.�
Uriah pounced.
�And eggs, and
bacon, and - lawdy me - a peach cobbler.�
Her exclamation
came as a small shriek, because Uriah had swept her up off the ground, and was
questing for a kiss. They kissed, and it was the first time they had kissed out
of bed, for there had been some kissing the previous night, as they lay
together for their first night in Woodrow�s cabin, and then they kissed again,
and they were both flushed, because desire is a flame that grows fast when it
is fanned.
Uriah put Iris down
carefully, and began to shuck off his bib-alls. But she gestured towards their
mattress, still airing over the porch rail. �I ain�t aiming fer no wood
splinters in my butt.�
He turned, and
nodded, sweeping the mattress of the rail as though it were no more than a
feather pillow, and then they were lying together, and moving together, and
making the same sounds in unison, and they smiled at each other when they were
done, because each had pleased the other.
Iris made to roll
away, but Uriah pulled her back to him. �I don� reckon I�m done yet.�
�Yo� want more?�
�I�m needin� more.�
He was looking down
at her as he lay on the mattress at her side, and he bent forward to kiss each
of her swelling breasts. �These are�
gonna feed ma boy.�
Iris nodded, watching him, and reached up to put her
arms around his neck. �There�ll be time fer thet later.� Her voice was soft,
little more than a whisper, and Uriah came to her with the same gentleness, and
this time they prolonged their loving.
But good things
must end at some time or another, and in the ending they were sated.
Iris brewed up
coffee, and baked biscuits, whilst Uriah sat at the cabin table. He was silent
as she worked, and it was plain that he was thinking. He watched her slice
bacon thin, so that it would fry quickly, and break eggs into her skillet over
the meat, and stared as she set a knife as well as a fork alongside his plate.
�Maw ain�t never
done thet.�
�Huh?� Iris eyed
him in bewilderment.
�She never set no
knife on no table. She figured knives called haints out of the woodland.�
Iris sniffed.
�Ain�t no haints never comin� near me, husband.�
He began to eat,
then paused. �My, this is good.� More eating, then another pause. �I�m goin�
down Coates this time nex� week. They say the railroad is hirin�.�
Iris refilled his
plate, waiting to see where this news would lead.
�Sheriff Wilkes�
been out on the rampage with five deputies. He come up on the Jones
boys, jes� as they were packin� jars of apple �shine on the back of a mule,
right out the back of their still. Seems they offered him a share, but he
smashed the jars to pieces, then set to work on the still, with a coupla� the
deputies standing shotgun in the background.�
Iris filled her own
plate and began to eat, watching him. All the county knew Sheriff Wilkes for a
godfearing man, with a strong antagonism towards liquor, particularly liquor
brewed outside the law.
�They say they
flattened the place, right down to the ground, even though ol� Miz Jones tried
to stop them. They say she were weepin� and wailin�, and sayin� they needed the
�shine to pay fer lil� Jenny�s wedding.�
Iris smiled thinly.
Old Mrs. Jones regarded herself as being a distinct cut above all her
neighbours, and had planned a real big party for her only daughter. But
something caught at her mind. �How come apple �shine?�
Uriah grinned
without humor. �Some man bin brewin� up applejack, asked them to run it through
their still, half what came out fer them. They thought they had a mighty good
deal, half a bunch of apple �shine for no real workin�.. The man came to
collect his half, and then someone told Sheriff Wilkes.�
�Mebbe the man with
the applejack din� want no competition?�
�Paw tol� me it
were durn good �shine. Guess the man wanted good money fer it.�
�They won� tek
kindly.�
�Paw sed the boys
hev� gone out huntin�..�
Iris nodded.
Moonshiners were a hard, competitive breed, trusted by none, and always seeking
to run each other to ground. She imagined blood would flow. �Yo� gonna lay off
fer a while?�
�Paw figgers thet�s
best. We�ll finish what we got, and ship it out over the county line. Wait �til
the rumpus dies away. Sheriff Wilkes ain�t got no interest in cold stills,
leastways not whilst others are cookin�..�
Uriah had finished
his plate and cleaned off the remnants with a couple of spare biscuits. He sat
back from the table and belched the belch of a contented man. �Goddang, but
thet were good.�
He eyed Iris
hopefully, but she was already on her feet. �No, husband, ye had yer crowin�,
leastways if�n yer wants cobbler.�
She was already
maneuvering a hefty chunk of cobbler into a bowl, and covering it with thick
fresh yellow cream. �Yo go eat thet, and then tek yersel� huntin fer dinner.
I�m gonna tek stock of what we got while yo�re out. I reckon we�ll need a
mountain of stuff to feed yo� through the winter.�
She sat for a while
on the cabin porch, after she had cleaned up and Uriah had gone off with his
long-barreled hunting rifle, resting her hands on her stomach. Her bouts of
sickness were more irritations than real trials - they would come at unexpected
moments, and pass away quickly enough. But it is not a pleasant thing to spend
several minutes heaving and fearing the whole of your interior is about to turn
itself inside out. Then she took a deep breath and got to her feet. There was
work to be done in her vegetable patch. Weeds had sprouted up
around the tomatoes, and some would need picking today.� More had gone to ruin, with Woodrow
gone.� The rotted fruit lay between the
plants, half eaten by groundhogs and possums.�
She also needed to check to see if the potatoes were close to digging,
and to make a home for some turnip greens - she had heard it said that greens strengthened
the bones of unborn babes, and they�
would make a good winter standby with a touch of fatback.
A bee passed her
head, buzzing on its way, and she watched it with interest. She could hunt for
wild honey, but it was a perilous task, because the bees often nested in rotten
trees where snakes liked to slither. But a couple of hives of good tame
honeybees would be a real treasure. She imagined Uriah would take well to a
hunk of her bread dipped in honey, and little Susan would be able to help her collect
the combs.
Iris smiled to
herself. She knew Uriah had set his heart on her having a boy for her
first-born. But she was strong, with wide hips built for bearing, and a little
girl would come in right handy as her second child. She would be able to teach
her all she knew, and learn to read and write better herself, because she was
still a bit slow with her letters. She would turn the cabin into a good home,
for Uriah to value when he was through with his day on the railroad, and he
would mellow for her, and become a better man, conscious of his duties and
responsibilities, shedding the harshness of his parents.
She fetched a hoe and set to work. Uriah would come
back with a good catch for dinner, and they would eat their fill, and then lie
in the dark, and continue their learning. Country life pleased her, to be
independent and free, and they would fashion a fine future.
Uriah returned as
the sun touched the hill crest. He whooped as he came up to the cabin, and Iris
clapped her hands together in glee, because he was carrying perhaps the biggest
old tom turkey she had ever seen.
�He�s got meat,
ma�am.� Uriah held the dead bird high. �He�ll feed us real good.�
�I�ll roast him.�
Iris eyed the turkey cock with a cook�s expertise. �You go get him plucked and
drawn, whilst I get the stove going good and hot. I got some new �taters jes�
right fer roasting alongside him, and I�ll put in some onions, �n I kin tek his
drippin� fer gravy.�
She went back into
the cabin to pile wood into the stove, stoking it up until the metal glowed.
Then she went back out onto the porch to see how Uriah was faring. He was
surrounded by turkey feathers, and she picked out two of the brightest and
stuck them in her hair, laughing at him. �Now I�m a redskin squaw.�
He beamed at her. �You
want me to split it?�
�Along the
backbone.� She drew a line with her forefinger along the plucked carcase.
�Split �im thar�, and clean out the innards.� She looked around, and picked up
a galvanized bucket. �Dump it all in thar, and throw it out down the hill where
the possums kin hev it. I don�t want them botherin� my chickens at night.�
Uriah used a small
wood axe to split the turkey carcass deftly, wrinkling up his nose as he pulled
out the innards bulging with the bird�s grazing. �It don�t smell too good.�
She laughed.
�They�s guts, husband. What�d you expect?�
It�ll taste fine.� Iris balanced the carcass in her hands,
inspecting the meat. �He war a well-fed bird. Mebbe a bit tough, but we both
got our teeth. I�ll fix him with some onions and wild garlic, to flavor un� up,
and you�ll never know you�d eaten the like of it.�
She washed the
turkey quickly, then pierced the meat at intervals to insert a handful of bulbs
of wild garlic, and set it on roasting pan, washed a basin of potatoes and
peeled some� wild onions to set either
side of the carcass, shielding her hands in an old dress to slide the pan into
the oven. Then she wiped her hands.
�We�ll eat in �bout
an hour or so.�
Uriah picked at his
teeth thoughtfully. �Woodrow still got of his �shine stashed away? Waitin�
makes a man mighty thirsty.�
Iris shook her
head. �You drink water, husband. �Shine�s gonna to tek your strength away fer
after yer eatin�.�
Her husband�s eyes
lit up. �We got an hour of waitin�.�
Iris shook her head
again, and her face was very determined. �Yo� wait, husband. I got things to do
whilst thet bird�s a-roastin�, and I ain�t getting� them done on a mattress.
Yo� keep away from Woodrow�s �shine. Yo� drink thet stuff, and it�ll weaken yo�
from yer purpose.�
Uriah looked a
little aggrieved. �It was my makin�..�
Iris sniffed. �Yo� kin hev �shine when yo� got men
with yo�, and yo�all set around chawin� the day away. Yo� got better things to
do here.�
She backed away,
because Uriah had begun to advance on her, with a set look in his eyes that she
knew very well. She brushed against the table, and her hand touched the haft of
her meat cleaver, and she raised it, her hand high, and the blade towards him.
�I don� intend
harmin� yo�, husband. But I know how to use this.�
Uriah stopped, with
the sulky look of a small boy deprived of a prize, and she relented a little.
�Go get some more peaches off�n the shelf in the back of the barn. Yo�re taller
than me, and you won�t need no box to stand on.�
She watched him go
out of the cabin, and laid the cleaver back on the table. Uriah was a man
accustomed to violence, and he respected violence in his turn. She wondered
what would have happened, had he taken another step towards her, and then
pushed the thought from her mind. Some things are better left unthought.
The turkey was a
fine bird, and they both ate hungrily, mashing their roasted potatoes into the
gravy before cleaning their plates with chunks of biscuits Iris had baked from
flour she found in the Indiana cabinet. She had sifted it well, and found none
but a few weevils, nothing to bother about, and they had made a treat for
Albert, her new cockerel, because she had named him for Capitola�s victim.
She cleared the
table after they ate, and they sat for a moment on the porch, watching the setting
sun, and they were both well-fed and companionable. Uriah cut himself a chaw of
tobacco, and chewed at it thoughtfully. �We c�ld do with a dawg.�
Iris nodded
approvingly. He needed a hound to take hunting with him, maybe a mountain cur
or a coon hound. Something able to warn him about rattlers.
�I�ll see if I kin
find me a pup when I go down to the depot.� He looked at Iris sideways.
�Yo� want a cat?�
She nodded. �Keep
mice out�n the corn crib.�
�They�ll grow up
together.�
�They�ll give the
children pets to play with.�
�Guard them an�
all.� Uriah stopped short. �Children?�
Iris smiled at him.
�Yo�ll mek a good Paw.�
�More than one?�
�Mebbe a dozen.�
Suddenly Uriah
grinned. �I�ll need feedin� up good to do thet.�
�I�ll feed you good.�
He held out his
hand to her, and their fingers entwined. �Yo�ll mek a better man of me than Paw
ever was.�
Iris shrugged
slightly. It was on the tip of her tongue to reply that she was not Capitola.
But some things are better left unsaid.
�I�ll go down the
depot Friday.� Uriah hesitated. He seemed to have something on his mind, but to
be unsure about saying it. �I guess I�ll drop in to see the folks...�
Iris did not reply.
She had no wish to see Uriah�s parents again, leastways not for a good long
while. But again it was not a thing for the saying.
�Yo� want to come
to Coates?�
She shrugged.
�Mebbe trade some
butter an� stuff?�
She was silent for
a long moment and then nodded reluctantly. �Mebbe. But we ain�t stopping long,
an� I ain�t goin� into the house.�
�I�ll ask Paw if he
wants to ride down to Coates with us.�
�Yo� kin do thet.�
Iris shrugged again. She had a feeling that Capitola would hold a visit very
much against her, if it meant her going into town with both Hitt men. But she
could hardly stop Uriah seeing his parents. She would ride on the mule, and
stay in the saddle. That way would seem less aggressive, her being with child
and all.
Uriah spat his chaw
into the dirt, and pressed her fingers. It was now dark.
Iris levered
herself to her feet. �Come on, husband. Time fer yo� to be dreamin.�
They both laughed,
because they were both young, and in need.