WILD OATS (2 page)

Chapter Two

It was Haywood's fault, actually, Jedwin decided. That Haywood could put an idea in a person's head and for life itself you couldn't get away from it.

Haywood Puser was a master embalmer, a genuine human being, one heck of a nice man, and the best friend that Jedwin Sparrow had.

Almost three weeks previously Jedwin had complained to Haywood about his mother's stepped-up campaign to marry him to some respectable female.

"Don't let Old Mellie get you in a pickle," Haywood had said. They had laughed good-naturedly as they worked together in the back room. "Your mama just wants her boy to marry up. That's what all the mamas want for their boys."

"I am not a
boy
and I
don't
want to get married," Jedwin had stated emphatically.

"Never?" Haywood's look was speculative. "Your ma-ma'd best not hear that, it'd give her apoplexy. And if the boys down at the pool hall hear it, they'll be saying worse."

"I've got nothing to prove to a bunch of billiard bums," Jedwin said. "Marriage and manhood are two entirely different things."

Haywood raised his hands in mock surrender. "Don't tell me what I already know. It's your mama who hasn't got a firm grasp on the obvious."

The two were scrubbing the embalming room, sleeves rolled up, lye soap and carbolic in their buckets. The faint smell of formaldehyde clung to the air, making Jedwin somewhat queasy. He hated the room. It had memories that tortured him, weakened him. It was Haywood's workroom now since Jedwin no longer practiced embalming. He could have avoided the smells, the sights, the memories altogether, but instead he forced himself to walk inside it every day. He gave Haywood assistance he neither wanted nor needed. He did it to prove to himself that he could.

"Marriage is not something one just jumps into," Jedwin explained unnecessarily. "There are more than just practical considerations. Finer feelings are to be considered."

Haywood nodded and offered a wicked chuckle. "Not to mention the fine feeling that comes rising up in your trousers when you least expect it."

"Connubial bliss is more than copulation," Jedwin replied high-mindedly.

Haywood met that with a grin. "And copulation is more bliss than connubial."

Jedwin began scrubbing the table harder than necessary. “I just haven't found the right woman, that's all."

That statement evoked a disbelieving snort from Haywood.

"Ah now, this is me you're talking to. Admit it, Jedwin. You haven't found
any
woman."

Jedwin glared up at him. "Dead Dog isn't exactly Paris, France. I can hardly give a good look to a girl in this town before her mama and mine have got their heads together."

Haywood smiled and offered a sympathetic nod. In some ways, Jedwin Sparrow was the most eligible bachelor in Dead Dog. In others, he was the most unmarriageable man in town.

"Don't bother looking at those girls if you aren't thinking marriage," Haywood advised. "And you don't need to be thinking marriage, at least not yet. But sowing a few wild oats might surely take the edge off your disposition."

Jedwin shook his head. "In this town, the only oats are those I grow on Pratt farm!"

"There are women aplenty if you just keep your eyes open."

Jedwin shook his head. "Not for me, Haywood. Most of the women at those fancy houses in Guthrie are toothless and ancient, and even the pretty ones don't smell exactly clean."

Haywood's eyes widened in surprise. "Stay away from those places, son," he said with genuine concern. "If I'da thought you were thinking of such a thing I'da knocked some brains into that fool head of yours."

Jedwin's eyes widened.

"I've seen too many bodies eaten up with venerealia," Haywood told him. "Whorehouses are putrefaction in human form."

"You're contradicting yourself. First you tell me to get myself a woman, then you warn me of the dangers waiting in the fleshpots."

"I told you to look around," Haywood said. "There are decent women, clean women, that just need the slightest little push to go racing headlong off the straight-and-narrow."

Jedwin handed the scrubbed pine drying board to his companion and gave him a look. Haywood was nearing fifty, but he was still a handsome man. His thick, curly hair and beard had long since become more silver than black. His big "blue eyes shone openly with the honest emotions of his heart, and the ladies seemed to be drawn to him like flies to honey. Jedwin wondered curiously which local woman Haywood was currently leading down the primrose lane.

"So," Jedwin said. "Are you going to introduce me?"

Haywood gave a howl of laughter. "Then your mama would have me out on my keyster!"

Jedwin frowned slightly. “The business belongs to me. You are in
my
employ. Even my mother understands that."

"Yes sir, Mr. Sparrow, sir," Haywood teased gently. "But Old Mellie's already near to driving you crazy now. Do you want to give her more reasons to bend your ear?''

Jedwin clearly had not. So he hadn't asked for suggestions of women willing to stray the path. He had followed his own judgment and decided-on the sure thing. Tonight he'd sought out the most scandalous woman in Dead Dog, Oklahoma Territory, the infamous Cora Briggs,
divorcée.

The infamous woman he had so determinedly sought out now sat staring wordlessly at the young man opposite her and wondered how in the world her life had become so muddled.

Jedwin Sparrow, a pleasant, hardworking young man and the bright, devoted, near-saintly son of that horrible harridan, Amelia Sparrow, was in her parlor making an indecent proposal.

She watched as he nervously slicked back the hair at his temples and waited for her reaction.

He was waiting for her reaction.

He was expecting a reaction.

The one that seemed most appropriate was for her to step across the room and box the young man's ears.

"Please leave my house, Mr. Sparrow."

She watched his face fall in disappointment. Did the young man actually think she'd be open to such a suggestion?

"Perhaps if you took more time to consider?" he asked quietly.

"Consider?"

"Mrs. Briggs, I am a generous man and very discreet. I am neither cruel nor unseemly. I'm sure, ma'am, that you could do worse."

The insolence of his speculation infuriated her.

"I'm old enough to be your mother!" Cora blurted out.

Jedwin seemed somewhat surprised. "I'm twenty-four," he said quietly. "I thought you weren't much past thirty."

"I am twenty-nine!"

Jedwin nodded without apology. "My mother was forty-three her last birthday."

"I
do
know your mother, Mr. Sparrow."

"It's a small town, Mrs. Briggs. Everybody knows everybody."

"Does your mother know you are here?"

Jedwin's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "She certainly does not."

"Perhaps she would be interested to know that you have come to visit me?"

Jedwin raised his chin. "I'm sure she'd be interested to know that you invited me in."

Cora gasped. "You said you wished to speak with me about business! I thought that—" She hesitated. No amount of explanation could ever correct a well-seasoned rumor. "Your mother would believe anything of me," Cora admitted honestly. "Unlike yourself, I have no reputation to lose."

Jedwin smiled. “For a gentleman,
reputation
can be all for the gain."

Cora opened her mouth to argue, but knew it to be absolutely true. That fact made her furious. If a woman made the slightest misstep, she was ruined for life. A man could virtually wallow in sin, scandal, and immoral turpitude, and the worst that would happen was a bit of tittering behind black lace fans. It was a lesson Cora had learned the hard way, but one she'd never forgotten.

That was behind her now, she reminded herself. Eight years behind her. Every day it seemed that she had to remind herself that all that was behind her. Apparently she was still the only person who believed it.

"Mr. Sparrow," she began coldly. "I find your suggestion highly unflattering."

"I meant no insult, Mrs. Briggs," he answered honestly. "I
am
younger than you. For most young men, there comes a time when one wishes to experiment a bit. To sow his wild oats, as they say."

Cora watched as he compulsively bent the hat brim he'd been so carefully straightening earlier.

"I find you extremely . . . attractive, Mrs. Briggs. And I hoped that perhaps you might consider a . . . liaison between us as beneficial."

Cora straightened her shoulders and adjusted her cuffs righteously. "I am no trollop to be purchased with ribbons and geegaws!"

"Certainly not!" Jedwin said quickly. "There are improvements I could make on your property. Paint and lumber can't be bartered with eggs and garden goods. I could provide cash money for such. And dress goods, Mrs. Briggs, I know you don't go out much, but surely you'd like a new dress? Maybe I could take you to Guthrie? A new dress and an evening at a play and dinner?" Jedwin seemed to be wanning up to the idea. "And your future, ma'am. Everyone needs to save for their later years."

"A pension for promiscuity, Mr. Sparrow?"

Jedwin cleared his throat.

"Whatever you want, Mrs. Briggs."

"What I want, Mr. Sparrow"—Cora's words were crisp enough to cut shoe leather—"is for you to take your illicit propositions and immoral suggestions out of my house and never come back!"

Rising to his feet, he bowed stiffly to her as if to take leave. "I meant no offense, Mrs. Briggs, and I am infinitely sorry to have troubled you." The handsome young man's obvious dismay placated Cora somewhat. "Please be assured," he said, "that I shall never reveal my foolish and inopportune overture."

Jedwin's hands seemed to shake as he placed his proper black hat on his head.

Served him right!
Cora told herself. The boorish little oaf propositioning her like some sort of Saint Louis fancy piece. She wondered, irrationally, if his mother had put him up to this, then immediately discarded the idea. Amelia Sparrow loathed Cora. She would die a thousand deaths if she even dreamed her precious only son had breathed the same air as the notorious Cora Briggs.

Suddenly—full-blown, a terrible, horrible,
wonderful,
idea came to Cora's mind. She watched the broad young shoulders impressively covered in fine black and gray cassimere retreating through the kitchen and an inexplicable smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.

"Mr. Sparrow!" She stopped him as his hand reached for the back-door screen.

"Mrs. Briggs?" She now was the one somewhat at a loss for words. She twisted her hands nervously and then smiled in what she hoped was an inviting fashion.

"Perhaps I've been hasty."

"Ma'am?"

Cora blushed honestly and then gave a fair imitation of a flutter. "All this talk about 'stipends' and 'benefits,'" she said, as if the words were unfamiliar to her. “Why, they just put a lady right off."

Jedwin swallowed. "Again, I apologize."

"When a gentleman comes to call," she said with feigned shyness, "he usually speaks of romance."

"Romance?'"
Jedwin spoke the word with such undisguised distaste that Cora almost laughed.

She looked up at him in a clearly flirtatious manner. Her eyes widened with feigned innocence and her lips curved into a clearly provocative smile. "Surely, Mr. Sparrow, you don't expect . . . well ... what do you expect?"

Jedwin looked at her mutely, clearly beyond expectations of any kind. Her sudden change of mind confounded him. Her sudden nearness excited him. His sudden reaction embarrassed him.

Cora reached for his arm. "Come back into the parlor, Mr. Sparrow," she said, her fingers touching his upper arm which, though decently covered in fine, store-bought cloth, was firm and clearly strong. "Or perhaps I should call you Jedwin?" Her foolish little giggle sounded strangely foreign to her, and Jedwin wondered if she was the same woman of a few moments earlier.

"Dear dear Jedwin," she said as she led him back to the divan. "Sit right here and let me take your hat."

Woodenly he handed it to her and Cora took the somewhat battered hat to the foyer where she hung it on the rack.

Jedwin's eyes followed her curiously as she returned to the rocker and perched herself upon it nervously. She looked down at her hands for a moment and then hurriedly, as if just remembering his presence, raised her eyes to his. She smiled broadly.

Jedwin smiled back, but she got only a brief glimpse of it as she immediately dropped her eyes again.

If the previous conversation between them had been awkward, this nonconversation was positively maladroit. Jedwin was uncomfortable, but the possibility that she'd changed her mind kept him seated.

"What did you mean about being too hasty?" he asked finally. "And what about . . . about romance?"