WILD OATS (13 page)

"You are right, Mr. Puser. My son is no coward." He heard the quiet words and he turned to look at Amelia Sparrow. She attempted a smile, but it was somewhat wan. "My father always told me that I wasn't cut out to be a mother."

Haywood smiled warmly. "Then being wrong about one's children must ran in the family. I wouldn't fault you as a mother, Mellie. You've raised a very fine man."

"Thank you."

"I buried my own son twenty years ago," Haywood said evenly as he checked the lines on the infusion. "I like to imagine he would have grown up to be like your Jed win."

"You had a son?" Amelia was astounded.

"Yes, ma'am. And a pretty little daughter, too." Leaning forward as if relaying a frightening secret, he added, "I even had a full-time wife, once upon a time."

His joking eased the tension between them, but not Amelia's curiosity. "What happened to them?"

"Cholera," he answered simply. "Cholera happened to them."

"I'm sorry." She felt very uncomfortable. She'd spent most of her life dealing with grieving families, but in this instance, somehow the usual platitudes seemed pale. "I didn't know, I—"

"You didn't know," Haywood explained, "because there was no reason to tell you. It's been a long time now. I miss Abby sometimes. I think about her and the children. But I'm not a man to grieve forever. One thing about working with the dead is you learn right away that life is for the living."

"Yes, of course you are right," Amelia agreed.

Haywood gave her a curious squint. "What's wrong with your jaw?''

"My jaw?" Amelia realized that she'd been rubbing at the pain in her mouth.

"It's nothing," she said. "I've just got a sore tooth."

Haywood turned to the washbasin and began cleaning his hands. "You want me to have a look at it? I've got some experience in dentistry."

"Certainly not!" Amelia was absolutely horrified at the idea.

Haywood chuckled. "I was asking to have a look in your mouth, Mellie, not up your dress."

The Lewis wand swirled high in the clear blue sky over the river knoll. It came back to earth at precisely the expected place and exactly parallel to the earth when it reached six feet from the ground. A very easy catch.

Cora missed it.

Giving the perfectly innocent wand an evil glance, Cora jerked it out of the grass and tossed it on the picnic cloth.

With self-disgust she followed its example and seated herself abruptly. Concentration. That was what was needed for healthy exercise. And healthy exercise was needed for spiritual completeness. This morning Cora felt she suffered a distinct shortage of both.

Dutifully she picked up Mrs. Millenbutter's book and leafed through it, trying to find a passage that would help relieve her current emotional upheaval. Mrs. Millenbutter seemed to see great value in the release of tension. Surely she would have some solutions for the tension that had been building inside Cora since Jedwin Sparrow gave her a sweet and simple kiss in her kitchen the night before.

She should never have allowed Jedwin to pursue her, Cora thought. She no longer harbored any foolish notions of visiting revenge on Amelia Sparrow but that had been nothing in comparison to the confusion she was now confronting.

Cora slammed the book closed and tossed it next to the wand. Apparently Mrs. Millenbutter was as ignorant of the ways of wicked women as Cora was herself.

With near disbelief, she ran a gentle hand across her lips. She had worried that even a gentleman might lose control. She had worried that perhaps Jedwin Sparrow was no gentleman. But she had never considered the fact that perhaps he could make
her
want him. Living without a man had been so easy.

"You just go behind the screen there and change into your nightgown," Luther had directed that first night in the Williams Hotel. "I'll just be waiting here in the bed for you."

Cora blushed even now, nearly a decade later, at the embarrassment she'd felt on that first night of her marriage.

"Turn the light off, Mr. Briggs," she called from behind the screen a few moments later. "I'm not coming out without that light off."

"Call me Luther, my Cory," he answered. "You call me Luther, and I'll turn the light out."

Trembling, Cora found it difficult to speak at all. "Please Luther, turn out the light."

She heard him fumbling around a bit as he got out of bed and then the gaslight faded down to darkness.

Cora took a deep breath for courage and stepped from behind the screen, only to run smack-dab into Luther's chest.

"Oh!"

"I thought I'd come and get you," he said. "I didn't want you to stub your toe or something running around in the dark like this."

"Thank you," she answered. He was wearing only the drawers of his union suit and Cora was grateful for the darkness that obscured what seemed to be a huge hairy body.

Luther snaked his arm around her waist and walked her to the bed. "There just ain't no call for you to be afraid of this lovemaking, Cory. Why, every woman you know that's got a baby has done it and a lot of them that don't got a baby, too."

"I'm not afraid," Cora said bravely.

He pulled back the covers on the bed and Cora sat down and scooted far to the other side. Luther followed her.

"It hurts some the first time," he said. "I'm not going to lie to you about that. But only the first time. After that, why it don't feel bad at all."

Cora nodded.

"Some women even like it," Luther said. "I admit to having some experience in these things and I'll do my best to make it nice for you." He moved closer and pulled her into his arms. "But if you don't like it, Cory," he whispered, "that's all right. Truly it don't matter to me. I promised today for better or worse, so whichever, I'm here."

"I'm here, too, Luther," Cora said shyly. "I know a woman's got to do her duty to her husband and I'm willing."

He sunk his fingers into her hair as he
gazed
at her. "You are a good girl, Cory. To tell you the truth, I may not be the best husband you could have had. But honey, I'm going to try."

He'd kissed her then. It had been a lover's kiss, full of tricks and techniques and tongue. It was a kiss that distracted her while he pulled up her nightgown. It was a kiss that went on forever as his hands surveyed her bosom and searched the inside of her thighs. It was a kiss that was interspersed with sweet words against her lips. It was a kiss that ended only when he plunged himself into her for the first time.

But it was not a kiss that had tingled on her lips and stolen her sleep. Luther's kiss had not done that. But Jedwin's had. Jedwin's did.

Cora jumped once more to her feet. Grabbing up the wand, she casually twirled it from one hand to the other as she walked toward the edge of the knoll and gazed down at the river.

Her marriage bed had been no hated duty or painful humiliation. Luther had always treated her kindly and in fact she had come to like those warm, close moments when their bodies were joined.

But she had never thought to share those feelings again. She never imagined herself with another man. Another man was against the rules. She had promised to "keep herself only unto" Luther Briggs. Although her marriage had become a lie and a travesty, she'd meant those words when she'd spoken them. And for all these years, it had been no hardship to keep those vows.

Today, that ease of virtue was gone. Temptation was new and exciting. And she found Jedwin Sparrow to be very tempting indeed.

What could it hurt? she asked herself. Her reputation was already ruined, and the young man was going to sow his wild oats somewhere. A short, discreet fling wouldn't bother a soul and could be a very pleasant diversion, Cora told herself.

"Ouch!" Cora hollered. Somehow she'd managed to give her shin a good solid wallop with the wand. Grimacing painfully, she hopped on one leg as she rubbed the shin of the other. "So graceful, Cora dear," she mimicked snidely to herself. "Oh yes, do involve yourself immorally with this young man. You are so clumsy, you'll probably get a baby on the first try!"

Disgusted, Cora began gathering her things. Mrs. Millenbut-ter would not be proud of her today. But then Mrs. Millenbutter was probably never tempted to have an illicit relationship with a younger man.

Cora was tempted. She had to admit it to herself. She wanted Jedwin Sparrow as she'd never wanted a man before. A child was, of course, a real possibility, she reminded herself as she loaded her things on the bicycle. That consequence didn't bother her as much as it should have. She had told herself at least a thousand times how fortunate she was that her marriage to Luther was without issue. However being a mother was something she had always dreamed about, something she had always desired. Eight years ago she had shoved those dreams away. Once more she shoved bitterly at them.

"He won't be coming to your rescue with a hurry-up wedding," she warned herself aloud.

If she were to become pregnant, she would likely be run out of town. Amelia Sparrow would never allow an illegitimate grandson to grow up in her shadow. And Cora would be out on her own with nothing, except for a child to raise.

Maybe she could sell the house. It was not the first time such an idea had occurred to her. The lure of starting over had enticed her more than once. In another place where no one knew her, she could present herself as a widow, and if she didn't act untoward, no one would ever be the wiser.

But what about the child? She could barely support herself now. How would she manage to pay rent and feed a baby, too? And one day she would have to tell him, "Oh, your father was just a lusty young man who was sowing his wild oats." And then there was poor Jedwin. What would she say to him? Thank you, sir, for a pleasant diversion. I am taking your own flesh and blood away and you must never think of us or try to find us again. Cora shook her head disapprovingly.

Scooting off, she pushed her bicycle to begin its hurried descent down the steep knoll. With the wind in her hair and the sky bright blue above, Cora was able to rein in her wild speculation.

"You are not having a baby!" she reminded herself. For heaven's sake, she was with Luther for almost a year without even a hint of increasing. One unsanctioned coupling with young Sparrow would not make her the Old Woman in the Shoe.

Reaching the bottom of the hill, she put down a foot and stopped herself abruptly. Had she decided? she asked herself. Was she certain about what she was doing? Was she really going to sow grain in an unblessed field with Jedwin Sparrow?

Chapter Ten

Cora set the pecan, tip up, on the flattened rock before her. Holding her tongue just right, she raised the broken clawhammer about a foot above her target. Squinting slightly, she took aim. With a quick, jerky movement, she popped the pecan sharply, splitting it perfectly in the middle. Setting down the hammer, she carefully picked out the uninjured pecan halves and rubbed them casually to remove any remaining pieces of shell. She tossed them into the washpan beside her.

"You do that very well."

The unexpected voice behind her was startling, and Cora jumped slightly. "You scared the life out of me, Jedwin Sparrow!"

His smile was teasing. "That's my job, ma'am," he said with an exaggerated peddler's spiel. "How else can I expect my business to prosper if I just let people live as long as they would?''

He was wearing a pair of apron-front overalls and a pale blue calico shirt. The costume was in sharp contrast to his usual staid, dark clothing. The slightly long blond curls twirled carelessly at his collar and the pale color of his shirt seemed to accentuate the leftover warmth of summer color in his face.

The effect was rather pleasing. He really was quite handsome, Cora thought.

Coming to her side, Jedwin laid out the mechanic's apron that he carried beside her on the bench. Squatting down, he slipped a fine steel hammer from its loop and held it out to her. "This won't be as hard to balance as that broken clawhead you're using," he said.

Cora took the heavy weight of his hammer in his hand. It was not new, but there was not a hint of rust or even a chip in the metal. She ran her hand along the smooth, polished blond hickory handle. Grasping it, she tested its balance in her hand. She smiled approvingly at Jedwin. "It just might make this a bit easier," she said. "May I borrow it?"

Jedwin took the hammer from her and looked down at it for a moment before he smiled. Holding it out to her like an offering, a look of long-suffering upon his features, his voice again mimicked an actor in a romantic melodrama. “My dear lady," he said with a bit of lisp. "Flowers pale next to your beauty and candy is not as sweet as your own pink lips. Take then this hammer as my gift to you . . . that when you look upon it, you will always be reminded of me."

Cora jerked it out of his hand. "I'm tempted to hit you on the head with it."

Jedwin laughed. "Please keep it, Mrs. Briggs," he said, glancing into the washpan. "I'll consider a warm pecan pie in payment."

"Done," she answered as she raised the hammer and used it to crack its first pecan. "So what are you doing here in broad daylight, young man? Are you trying to ruin my reputation?"

Cora spoke the words as a joke, but Jedwin faltered momentarily before he answered.

"I believe I promised to fix your pump," he said honestly. "I got to thinking that people are probably not nearly as nosy about what goes on in your house in the daytime as they would be at night. I decided that it was safe to be here."

Cora nodded with a chuckle.”You are right there. One thing we have around here is a shortage of people when there is work to be done."

Jedwin grinned and took up his apron. Slipping the neckpiece over his head, he fastened the ties at his slim waist. "Not another word, Mrs. Briggs," he said. "I'm no shirker. You stay here and shell enough pecans to make me a pie, while I make an attempt to earn the eating of it."

As he turned to walk toward the back door, Cora called back to him. "Don't you make a mess of my kitchen floor or you'll go without your pecan pie for a good long spell."

"Yes, ma'am," Jedwin called back as he opened the screen.

It was strange to just walk into her house as if it were his own. Only a few weeks ago, he'd only dreamed of stepping inside, and now he came and went as comfortably as a boarder.

No, not a boarder, he decided. Like a secret lover. That thought brought a smile to his face.

Cora had kept the door shut against the coolness of the fall afternoon, but Jedwin determinedly propped it open. If she asked, he would tell her that pump fixing was hot work. But in fact, he just wanted to be able to hear her and maybe glance out at her. He wanted to be close to her even when they were apart. She had become a constant presence in his mind. It seemed that no matter what task he set himself, or to whomever he might be speaking, it was Cora whose face he saw before him, it was Cora whose words he heard.

He smiled to himself and shook his head. This had to be a kind of craziness. But it was an insanity Jedwin liked.

He began to whistle as he latched the adjustable fanner's wrench onto the head of the pitcher pump. By the time the head was off and he was inspecting the rods in the tubing, his whistle had turned into a hum. He hardly noticed the tuneless ditty that came from his lips until it was joined from the backyard by a high breathy soprano.

"Hello my baby, hello my honey,

Hello my ragtime gal.

Send me a kiss by wire

Honey, my heart's on fire."

Jedwin grinned both at being caught in such a good mood and at the pleasure of sharing a song with Cora.

Leaning out the door, he called sternly, "Mrs. Briggs, I do believe that beer-garden music is quite inappropriate for our little town." His voice eerily mimicked Reverend Philemon Bruder's. "Such frolic can only lead to modern thinking, unseemly behaviors, and the world of sin."

Cora turned to him, her eyes bright with amusement. "Do you think it will lead to the world of sin, itself?''

Jedwin grinned broadly and raised both eyebrows in wicked devilment. "Oh, I certainly hope so!"

Giggling, Cora pointed at the pump before continuing her pecan shelling.

Jedwin resumed his work, but along with it he hummed a very loud and slightly off-key rendition of "A Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight."

For better than a half hour they worked separately, but together, before Jedwin gathered up a handful of pump pieces and headed out the back door. He came over to the bench and seated himself on the grass before her.

"Did you fix the pump?"

"Not yet," he answered. "But I can." He held up a thin, curved piece of metal. "You've got a faulty foot valve. The water's been seeping through it back down the rods. Without a good steady pressure, that pump just can't pump."

"But you can fix it," she said.

Jedwin nodded. "I'll need to get a new valve for it. And while it's torn up, I might as well replace the leathers."

"Leathers?"

He held one up before her. ' "They are little leather cups that scoop the water and bring it to the surface," he said. "Since these have been dry for nearly a year, I suspect that they are right ready to crack. So I'll just replace them."

"How much is it going to cost?" she asked.

“How about a kiss?'' he asked.

Cora raised a censoring brow. "How about another pie?"

Jedwin grinned and glanced at the washbasin that was considerably fuller than before. "I'm not sure how many pies I can eat, Mrs. Briggs."

Cora shook her head. "You won't get another, sir. This is my cash crop you've set your greedy eyes on."

“Your cash crop?''

Blushing, Cora momentarily regretted her hasty reply. "You are not to say a word," she admonished Jedwin. "Titus Penny buys my pecans for his store."

Jedwin's eyes widened in surprise.

"He tells everyone that they come from the Widow Martin."

He stared at her for a long moment and then chuckled. "And I was thinking that old blind widow had to be the most industrious female in the territory."

"Don't say anything," Cora said. "If Fanny found out, I'm sure she wouldn't let Titus buy from me, and I really need the money."

"I won't breathe a word," Jedwin assured her. "What else do you sell down there?"

"Whatever I can. I grow a big garden in the summer, as much as I can manage," she said. "What I can't sell fresh, I put by to sell in the winter."

Leaning back on his elbows, Jedwin crossed his long legs at the ankles and laughed. "Now I know why poor Titus got all tongue-tied when the preacher asked him if you always paid cash."

Cora sat watching Jedwin as he continued to chuckle. There was a strange expression on her face that finally caught Jedwin's attention.

"What is it?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Nothing . . . no, something ..." She gestured absently at her own foolishness. "You are very different than I thought."

Jedwin raised a curious eyebrow before rising to a sitting position, legs crossed Indian-style. "In what way?"

Hesitating, Cora collected her thoughts. "Well ... I always thought you were a quiet and reserved young man," she said. "But when you smile . . ." She hesitated again, this time blushing. "When you smile, you are very nice looking."

Jedwin raised his chin with an exaggerated preen. "All us swains are handsome devils."

"That, too," Cora said, giggling.

"What?"

“I just never expected you to be so funny,'' she said.”You, making jokes, it's not what I thought of Jedwin Sparrow."

The young man shrugged, but from his expression, he was taking her comments seriously. "I'm an undertaker, Mrs. Briggs. It wouldn't do for me to walk around laughing and cutting up all the time."

"I guess not," she said. "It does seem that smiling comes more natural to you."

Jedwin laughed a little, pleasantly embarrassed. "I don't think it ever has before," he admitted. "You make me smile, Mrs. Briggs. I think about you all day long and just find myself smiling."

"Oh?" Cora began to fuss with her pecans again.

Jedwin leaned forward hugging his knees, feasting on the sight of her shy blush and her pretty agitation. "You are different than I had thought, too," he said.

"Really?" Cora smiled. Then her happy expression darkened abruptly. "I suspect you thought me no better than a soiled dove from Wichita."

Jedwin sat up straight, clearly displeased. "Mrs. Briggs, that is not what I thought at all."

Cora raised a brave, proud chin. She had faced the gawking and censure of the whole town, she was ready to face his.

The intense brown eyes that had become so familiar to her now showed deep down to the young man's soul. And there was no malice.

"Are you sure?" she asked, still uncertain.

"I never thought you were a harlot, Mrs. Briggs," he said quietly.

Jedwin looked her straight in the eyes. His expression was warm and vital and held some emotion she did not yet recognize. But Cora could not doubt his sincerity.

When she gave a slight nod of acceptance, Jedwin's expression warmed to a teasing grin. "But," he continued, his intense brown eyes narrowing in mischief. "I did
hope
that you were a bit more wicked than you've proved to be."

Cora stared at him, momentarily stunned. "Why you— you—"

Jedwin couldn't hold his mirth back another minute. He hooted with laughter, pointing toward her. "If you could see your expression—" he began before hilarity took over.

"How dare you laugh at me!" Cora screeched in exasperation.

That set Jedwin off even worse. Falling back on the cool grass, he howled with laughter.

"Oh you—" Cora began again, but again words failed her. Snatching up the bucket of unshelled pecans, she tossed them at him in impotent fury.

The rain of pecans amused Jedwin also. But his laughter began to quiet when she threw the pail at him, too.

"Mrs. Briggs!" He raised his hands just quickly enough to fend off the bucket aimed at his head, still laughing. "You've got me worrying for my life. Don't kill me, ma'am," he teased. "Don't kill me."

As if his taunting plea had given her an idea, she gripped the fine hickory hammer in her fist. He grinned hopefully and then scrutinized her black expression. He couldn't tell if she was truly angry or not. He leapt to his feet. "It was a joke, Mrs. Briggs," he assured her quickly as he began backing away. "It was just a joke."

Cora jumped to her feet, her eyes wide and the hammer held up before her like an avenging tomahawk.

When Jedwin started to run, she was right behind him.

"It was a joke!" he hollered as he raced around the side of the tree. He was up to the porch and down off the other side in an instant, but she was right behind him. "I didn't mean it!" he assured her as he raced to the backyard, amazed at how fast the woman was on her feet. "I swear I will never joke about such a thing again!" he promised as his path led him full circle and he leapt over the bench she'd been sitting on all afternoon.

He started around the right side of the tree once more, deciding that he'd let her chase him around the house again. Surely he had stamina on his side. To his dismay, Jedwin found that he'd underestimated the woman's mental abilities. He might have stamina, but Mrs. Briggs was crafty. Cora had run around the left side of the tree, opposite Jedwin, and met him, her hammer raised like Lizzy Borden's hatchet.

Turning, Jedwin saw that behind him was the corner of the picket fence, largely overgrown with forsythia. The shrub was too tall to jump over and too wide to climb around.

Cornered, Jedwin turned back to Cora, his hands raised before him like a surrendering criminal.

"Please, Mrs. Briggs," he said softly. "Don't throw the hammer. I know you are angry. I can assure you I was only teasing and will not do so ever again." Slowly he backed farther and farther away, but she followed him step by step.

Although Jedwin could have easily twisted the hammer out of her hand, he didn't want to overpower her. A gentleman never used physical force against a lady. However, an angry woman with a dangerous weapon in her hand called for very careful handling.

"Now, ma'am." His voice was calm and determinedly rational. "You could seriously injure me with that hammer, and I know that you would regret it. I have sincerely apologized for my little joke. Clearly, I never meant to hurt you or upset you in any way." Jedwin took a tentative step forward. "Please, Mrs. Briggs, don't throw that hammer."

There was silence between them.

Slowly, Cora lowered the hammer until she held it before her, staring at it. She raised her eyes to Jedwin and spoke. Her voice was as cold as it was smooth. "I will throw this hammer if I choose!"

"No!" Jedwin hollered as he saw it fly out of her hand.

The hammer, tossed, went straight up to heaven. Jedwin watched as it spun end over end a half-dozen times. In amazement he watched as Cora, her eyes heavenward on the twirling hammer, spun around twice, as graceful as a dancer, before raising her right hand to neatly catch the polished hickory handle.

Jedwin gaped. Cora smiled brightly, held the hammer before her daintily, and bent in a deep and graceful curtsy.

"Did you honestly think I would risk breaking my brand-new hammer on your thick skull?" she asked sweetly.

He looked so dumbstruck that Cora burst out laughing and pointed her finger at him in just the same manner in which he'd pointed at her earlier.

Jedwin stood frozen in place for only a moment. At his first movement, Cora squealed like a naughty child, dropped the hammer, and took off running. He was right behind her. They followed the same route as before. This time, however, their breathing was hampered by their laughter.

When Cora scampered across the porch, rushed headlong to the backyard, and came back to the south side of the house, Jedwin was at her heels. Seeing the bench before her, she hesitated only slightly. She'd hadn't tried to jump anything in twenty years.
You can do it,
she admonished herself. But it was too late to try. Her hesitation was her undoing. Jedwin's arm snaked around her waist. Laughingly, he pulled her feet right off the ground.

"You little dickens," Jedwin complained. "You had me apologizing my heart out."

Cora struggled giggling in his arms. "I wish you could have seen your face."

Jedwin, quite appreciative of her squirming, turned her around and pressed her up against him. "I'd much rather see your face, Mrs. Briggs," he whispered. Leaning toward her, Jedwin pressed his lips gently against her temple.

Her laughter stopping abruptly, Cora was suddenly very aware of her new situation. A handsome man, with an expression that no longer displayed even a hint of humor, held her in his arms. His hands, at her waist, were caressing. Then gently he pressed her to him and she felt the evidence of his desire against her belly.

Cora's eyes widened.

"Jedwin," she whispered, scandalized, "it's daylight."

"Ma'am?"

Grabbing his wrists, she placed his hands at his sides firmly. "It's daylight," she repeated as she stepped away.

"Yes, Mrs. Briggs," he said. "I can see that."

She took another step backward and found herself unable to meet his eyes.

Jedwin cleared his throat, not sure exactly where to look, either. He knew she'd been able to feel his arousal. He didn't quite understand her reaction.

The uncomfortable moment lengthened. Jedwin glanced over at Cora. She was patting down her hair and nervously trying to straighten her disheveled state.

From the corner of his eye, Jedwin spotted the hammer and casually walked over to it. He picked it up, unconsciously weighing it in his hand. Shaking his head, he marveled at how she'd made it spin in the air and then caught it like some circus performer. This woman was really something.

"Here, Mrs. Briggs," he said, holding the hammer out to her.

"Thank you," she answered, still clearly embarrassed.

"You'd better keep it close," Jedwin suggested. "You never know when some adoring swain is going to try to kiss you in broad daylight."

"Kiss?" She blurted out the word, then would have given her new hammer to have it back.

Jedwin raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Yes, kiss," he said. "That was all I was asking for, Mrs. Briggs. Just a kiss."

Cora's cheeks flamed. How was she supposed to know that a kiss was all he wanted? Whenever Luther had pulled her close and she'd felt him swollen like that, he'd expected her panties off in five minutes.