Heaven Sent (11 page)
The man he called father, Skut Watson, had moved to
Indian Territory
after the Confederacy's defeat. Not that politics had meant anything to Skut. He was only thirteen and custom made for trouble when he'd joined up with the rebels. Burning, stealing, and killing became little more than recreation to the rough group he rode with, but it wasn't enough for him. Skut Watson had hoped to make some money out of the war.
He was one of those men who were always just a minute away from success. All his life he spent looking for the easy way, the fast way, the get-rich-quick scheme that never quite materialized. It had led him near and far after the war, searching for that big payoff. Finally it had led him to
Skut had not intended to wed her, but when he found out that her half-breed status could get them a piece of land, he immediately tied the knot. Feeling safer once he'd taken her away from friends and family, he'd traded her allotment in the Cherokee hills for a useless piece of hilly, wooded ground in the Creek Nation. It was as far away as he could get from those things familiar to her.
The woman, Molly Fish, had not been particularly happy with her new marriage, but she was young and scared and pregnant and she really had no other choice. She knew that Skut had received gold and she wanted to stay around long enough to take it away from him.
First she needed someplace to winter and have her baby, so she stayed with Skut for a while. As it happened, she never left. She was sickly after Henry Lee's birth and kept waiting for her strength to return.
Lulled by the pleasure of watching her handsome son grow, the weeks stretched into years and she stayed with Skut. Their marriage could never have been called a happy one, but she had learned to just turn her thoughts inward when life around her became too hard. Seeking a quiet corner, the reality of her life faded away as pieces of tree branches came alive in her hands. Her talented fingers held the knife as she formed the small wooden creatures that pleased her bright, blue-eyed son as he played near her.
Over the years, Skut became involved in one get-rich scheme after another. He'd always managed to keep body and soul together, but he had never made the big success that he desired. His most successful venture had been whiskey.
Alcohol was in great demand among the Indians. Skut remembered stills back in his home in
Eventually, he took Henry Lee with him to help, and ultimately to do most of the work. Skut had developed a taste for liquor and felt it necessary to sample every shipment heavily.
Henry Lee, who was quick and sharp, learned faster than Watson. By observing and listening to the whiskey-makers, Henry Lee soon understood the whiskey business in a way that his adopted father never had.
As Hannah and Henry Lee, on that first morning of their married life, rode silently down the road, Henry Lee ruminated on the irony that he had been claimed and raised by a man who was not his father, and now he was going to have to do the same for another man's child.
Henry Lee felt both glad that he had let her know that she wasn't fooling him, and angry at the situation and at her for choosing him as the scapegoat. He decided, philosophically, that since his mother was a whore, having a wife who was no better than she should be certainly made sense. At least, she could never throw up his background to him. The fancy preacher's daughter had proved to be no better than trash herself. It was hard to believe that Hannah Bunch was of such low morals, but she hadn't even tried to deny it.
Henry Lee despised himself for hanging onto his anger and purposely put it away. She was here; she was his wife and he needed to accept her duplicity. He had learned long ago that a man's blind rage only served to make him prone to mistakes and miserable in his mind. He'd schooled himself to vent his anger in quick little explosions and then get on with his life. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he did just that.
His bride was a light skirt. She had been with another man and carried his bastard. Those were facts, he would grow to accept them. The past was past, he would see that she never strayed again. The first one might not be his, but he'd be damn sure the rest would be. He wasn't the first man to make that vow, he knew. But he would keep it if he had to tie her to the kitchen door.
Hannah concentrated on watching the scenery and not making any moves that might catch Henry Lee's attention. Apparently Henry Lee knew that she had been out at the wellhouse to trap another man. She couldn't imagine how he'd discovered that, but she was glad that it was finally out in the open, and that the embarrassment of explanation was behind her. She wanted to stay out of his way until the anger cooled. She knew that she wouldn't get off scot-free, but she wouldn't volunteer for a dressing-down.
They passed a couple of miles in silence until they reached a place where a small trail wound away from the road and down to a creek bed. Henry Lee turned off and drove the wagon down the steep sides. The water was only about knee-high and the creek had a quiet peaceful feeling to it.
"Is this Pearson's Creek?" she asked him tentatively, her voice quiet with inquiry.
When he nodded, she could see that he was in control of his temper, and smiled animatedly. "I thought I recognized it. We held a baptism downstream last fall. It's so peaceful and serene; it's like I think the River Jordan must be."
"I don't know much about the River Jordan, but come spring, this little creek runs so fast, it's one quick way to die. You'll have to watch my pigs, make sure they stay clear of here during the rain."
"Is that what you do for a living? Raise pigs?"
Henry Lee turned abruptly to look at her. Was it possible that she really didn't know how he made his living? He always assumed that everyone in the community knew of his clandestine business interests, but he guessed that it was quite possible that the farmers would spare their womenfolk the horrifying experience of knowing they had a moonshiner living in their midst. He thought of how shocked and embarrassed she was going to be when she learned the truth, and it brought the first smile that Hannah had seen on his face since they started the trip.
"Yes, ma'am, I do indeed raise pigs," he told her. "Some of the most well fed duroc hogs in the territory live right on my premises."
Hannah was encouraged by his smile and decided that she had finally found a subject to discuss with him, his hog business. Not knowing much more about the creatures than how to feed them and make them into ham and sausage, she began eagerly questioning him on hog farming. Henry Lee seemed to find this very amusing and was delighted to fill her in on the secrets of swine husbandry.
As they came up on the other side of Pearson's Creek, the landscape made a clear change. The wide open prairie had given way to a rather loosely wooded area, and the trail headed generally upward.
When they reached the site of Henry Lee's home, Hannah looked about eagerly. It was a good-sized cabin looking to the west with a porch running the length of the front, facing the creek. On the north side was a well-kept cornfield, green and prosperous. To the south a huge red oak, at least four feet across at the base, sheltered the cabin, its outstretched branches enfolding the small house and yard like a canopy.
Henry Lee drove the wagon around back. From there Hannah could see the outbuildings. One was obviously a barn and another a pigsty. There was an outhouse, a workshed, chicken coop and a couple more whose purpose was not immediately discernible. The yard was well-kept and clean. An outdoor hearth, undoubtedly used for doing laundry, was in evidence and a cord clothesline ran along the back of the cabin, one end hooked to the hen-house and the other attached to a freestanding wooden crosspole.
A strange sort of snorty bark caught Hannah's attention and she turned to see a herd of pigs heading for the wagon. Probably a dozen or so rust-red swine of varying sizes rushed toward them in minor stampede.
"What's going on?" Hannah asked, gripping the side as the strange rumbling chorus drew closer.
"Don't worry, they're friendly little beasts," Henry Lee assured her. "Just looking for something to eat. They like acorns plenty fine, but after two days they're anxious for something a bit more filling."
He jumped down from the wagon, securing the horse to the hitching post. Then by yelling, stomping, and kicking, he discouraged the hungry pigs from invading the wagon area.
"Let me go slop them and get them back in the pen," he told Hannah, offering a congenial smile. "You can have a look at the cabin," he suggested as he headed toward the pigsty, the snorting hogs following him as if he were the pied piper.
Hannah helped herself down from the wagon. At the back of the cabin was a lean-to section, obviously built after the original structure, through which she made her entrance to her new home. The lean-to was a porch of sorts, a wash porch she would have thought, but there was no evidence of wash having ever been done there.
She walked into the main cabin through the back door. It was very neat and in good repair, although it looked like a good bit of dust was building up in the corners. The cook stove was practically brand new. As she admired it, she noticed that it was nicer than the one back home.
There were cabinets and counters built from local pine that shone with a glaze that seemed to add light to the room. The table and chairs were oak, strong and sturdy enough to last a hundred years, with a glaze that matched the cabinets. A huge gray stone fireplace dominated the room. In front of it sat a hand-hewn fruitwood rocker, beautifully carved and finished. Hannah remembered that her father had said that Henry Lee was an excellent cabinet maker. She knew now why he wanted Henry Lee to do the pews for the new church.
Off to the right of the main room were two doors. Hannah opened the first one to find sawhorses, wood supplies, carpentry tools, and a lathe. She rightly decided that this must be Henry Lee's workshop and proceeded on to the next door.
The bedroom contained an extra-long four-poster bed with posts shaped like stalks of corn. Hannah had never seen such a thing in her life. The bed was at least four feet off the floor and a small step had been constructed on one side.
A matching table with the same unusual cornstalk design sported the water pitcher and basin. A wardrobe was built into the wall. It was made of a different type of wood, and was more crude in aspect. It obviously had already been in the room when the furniture was made.
Hannah slowly turned, looking about the room, reminding herself that she now lived here. She tried to imagine having her babies in the cornstalk bed, but just couldn't seem to see it. The intimacy of the bedroom disconcerted her.
Mentally shaking herself, she decided to stop daydreaming and get to work. There were all her things from the wagon to be brought into the house, and dinner was late already.
CHAPTER
5
