Ridden harder, p.20
Ridden Harder,
p.20
He had tried to protect me. He had called off Henley and Beck by going to Lucille. Or so it seemed. How had he done that?
“Henley thought he could get me on his side,” he said, as if reading my mind. “They kept pesterin’ me about you and your deed to the land. I peeked what they were up to and I said I’d leave. But then Lucille got sick and needed carin’ for.”
His voice grew stronger. “But I shouldn’t have abandoned you in the first place. I made a promise to you, Minnie, and I broke it. That’s the unforgivable, cold fact. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Jake.”
He rubbed his eyes quickly. “Pardon.”
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to collapse against him and tell him it was all forgiven. But was it? How could I trust Jake with my heart again?
“I want you to know,” he said, “That whatever it is you need from me, you only got to ask it. You deserved better treatment than what I gave. And I’ll make it up to you, Minnie, a thousand times over. Till Kingdom Come if you want to.”
“What if I want you to go away,” I said, “And never come back?”
“If you wished it.”
He meant it, too. It was my turn to look away. Jake let the silence grow. He had always understood the importance of silence, and everything that it said. Tentatively he took my hand. I surprised myself by letting him.
But I had to know. “Did you bed Lucille?”
“No,” said Jake. “I did not.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I have never lied to you, Minnie.”
“Would you?”
“No.”
“Then say you won’t leave.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Promise to keep your promise.”
He ducked his head. I caught the smile. He turned my hand over in his, looking at my roughened knuckles and fingernails. The smile turned to a frown.
“When I met you these hands were soft as feather-down.”
“I had to do chores when you left,” I said. “I hated it.”
He picked my hand up and kissed it. He let his lips linger. “Maybe that can be my punishment. For as long as you live, Minnie, you’ll never have to lift a finger.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I knew you would.”
He helped me on his horse, but did not climb up after. He led it by the reins to give me space to stretch out. I leaned my head back and let the morning light play over my face.
“They say,” said Jake, “They’re finishin’ up the war out East.”
“Who says? I’ve been livin’ under a rock, I think.”
“So have I. Someone just told me this mornin’.”
“Who?”
“Your Pa.”
I sat upright. “What?”
“Yup,” said Jake, grinning.
“Jake! Where? How-?”
“When we get to the house,” said Jake, “We can hear everythin’.”
“Is Mama with him?”
“Sure.”
“Jake. What about you and me?”
“What about us?”
“Should we tell them?”
“Tell them what?” said Jake.
“Everything, I suppose.”
“Tell them what you want, Minnie.”
He rubbed his cold cheeks, putting more color into them. I swallowed. What would I tell them?
More importantly, what would I not tell them?
“Mr. Sampson went to see Henley,” said Jake. “So I expect your mother’s the only one home.”
“Good,” I muttered. “That’s good.”
“I told her we were married,” said Jake casually.
I nearly fell off the horse.
“But,” he said, steadying me with a hand on my leg, “She seemed to take it well. Want to know what she said?”
“What?”
“ ‘Jake McCoy’,” he said, pitching his voice high, “ ‘After I dragged my ass across three states and a desert, dodging Comancheros and Indians with nothing to eat but beans and cactus shoots, you think I’ll suffer to hear any of your god-damned lies?’ ”
“Oh, no.”
He broke off with a chuckle. “So I’ll let you tell her.”
“She’ll kill you. She’ll kill me.”
“We’ll run away together,” he said.
“Across the desert,” I agreed.
“Cactus-shoots ain’t too bad. I’ve had ‘em.”
“We could join the Indians,” I said, thinking of Joseph.
Jake snorted. “That would be a sight.”
Oh, he was in a very, very good mood. So was I. Near the house I dismounted and tried to arrange myself in a presentable way. Didn’t want Mama to think I’d been sleeping in ditches.
“Stop fussin’ at your hair,” said Jake.
“It’s all over the place.”
He put his hand right through it, right through all the tangles, and kneaded my scalp. The sensation was so delicious I went weak. I stopped walking. He massaged me, then pulled me close, hard, and kissed me.
I wrapped my hands around his neck. He dropped the reins and mashed me to his body with force. His new-morning smell filled me like a heady drink, coursing through the very marrow of my bones. Where my breasts pressed against him, and the lean angles of his crotch, hummed with a feeling I’d forgotten. It was a delicious reminder of all we had yet to reconnect on. Neither of us would pull away, so it went on and on.
Finally, taking a breath he said, “I have a question.”
“Are you entitled to one?”
“Another four-dollar word.”
“I’ll teach you how to spell it. E-N-”
“Stop,” Jake said quickly. “It’s too early for letters.”
“You haven’t been reading?”
“Not without my teacher.”
He spun me around, stopped, and kissed me again. I felt dizzy as a bee.
“What was your question?” I gasped.
“Oh. Do you want to walk this way, or the shortcut?”
“The shortcut.”
He paused. “It goes past the schoolhouse.”
“That’s fine.”
So we walked down the forest path, which was barren and overgrown.
We came to the little hill where the schoolhouse sat all the livelong year. No children occupied its wooden walls. No teacher stood, cane in hand, to administer strange disciplines. Behind the schoolhouse and over the little hill ran the river. We circled the hill and came to it. Jake and I must have had the same thought.
“I remember falling in here,” he said.
“You didn’t fall. Someone tossed you.”
“Oh, that’s right. You came to get me.”
I eyed him. He was smiling. “Remember when we talked about that? You reminded me that they’d tossed me in. Before I’d always thought it was a fall.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright. Oh- look.”
A deer had frozen at our presence. It stood graveyard-still, watching. It became a part of the whole scene of river, hill and sky. The place where Jake had been tossed in now flowed clear and the deer had come to drink the water. The recent storm had unblocked a natural dam some miles upriver, letting water flow and clear the sandy banks.
“What a pretty place,” said Jake quietly.
It was. He had truly forgotten all the bad memories here, put them behind him. Perhaps he had forgiven the bullies, too. I asked him.
“Forgiven them?” he laughed. “Remember when I busted Jim Henley’s face up?”
“That was because he called you a mick.”
“It was for lots of reasons.”
“Huh.”
“I guess you never forgive some things,” said Jake. “You get to hating someone and never can stop. Just like you get to loving someone and you never can stop.”
“I thought I hated you,” I said.
“And now?”
“Now I want to kill you a little less than I did yesterday.”
“That’s a start,” he chuckled.
We walked. I imagined the look on Mama’s face when I told her Jake McCoy had not, in fact, been lying.
Mama, Jake and I are married. I owe John Miller one hundred dollars and the Court of Meadows County ten dollars in fees because I broke the law and got married twice. They whipped me in public and gave me scars. I lost a baby, I slept in a whorehouse, I climbed a peach tree and didn’t split my skirt. I’m in love and it feels like the whole world is turning upside-down.
“Do you think you can forgive me?” Jake asked.
“Yes,” I said. “I already have.”
“You want to stay married?”
“Maybe not yet,” I said. “I can still forgive you a little more. Depends on what you’re offering.”
“Oh, we bargaining now?”
“I recall you saying I’d ‘never have to lift a finger’.”
“So I did.”
“Build me a house,” I said, “And I’ll consider it.”
“Just a house? You want a barn with that?”
“Yes,” I conceded. “And a pond with little fish.”
“Alright. I guess you want a tabby cat and a crown of pearls.”
“Those too.”
“And a hundred white horses.”
“I like black horses.”
“Alright. What else, Minnie Sampson?”
“A loving husband,” I said. “You think you could get me that?”
“Of course,” said Jake. “You know I love you.”
“No one else?”
“No, Minnie,” he said, his sky-blue eyes alight. “None in the world.”
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