These Is My Words (24 page)

I could see I was stuck with the man, so I pointed to the wood pile and the axe, and he went and took off his uniform shirt and started splitting wood. I went around back and took in my underwear quick off the line although it wasn’t completely dry, and hung out some sheets and April’s clothes and dish towels and such. Then I went inside and tidied up the breakfast dishes which I had left, and started sweeping. It may have been a long time passed, or a little, I don’t know, but as I got to the doorway with a little pile of dust, there he was standing in my way, and startled me.

You look like you’re trying to do tomorrow’s sweeping today, he said.

So I said, Well, the dust just never stops here, and the wind blows it inside. Move your feet. And I swept it out beyond him. Now, if you are a hired hand, I’m not paying you to stand here and direct my sweeping, I said.

He grinned and saluted me like I was an officer, and said Yes, Ma’am! All day long he worked hard, just like Albert or Jimmy would have done. He wasn’t as fine a touch as Jimmy with the furniture and he spilled white paint on the porch trying to put another coat on the front of the house, but he worked hard and didn’t bother me. Except that just his being here bothered me a lot.

I could hear him whistling and humming and talking to either the dogs or the cats, as they were all under his feet but he didn’t scold them he just let them be and shooed them for safety. He didn’t eat at dinner, but by supper time, he accepted some steak and biscuits and fresh tomatoes, and corn relish I had put up, and peach pie. Then he tipped his hat and said he would be back early in the morning, and got on his horse and rode off toward Albert’s.

June 29, 1885

Just at sun up, he came riding back. He took weeds out from under the porch and killed a big rattlesnake under there. He trimmed back a vine that was tangled around the garden fence, and straightened up all the posts and tightened the wire that held the cactus sticks. And he admired the little rows of seedlings popping up, which were the flower seeds I had received by mistake. Then he mucked out the whole stable and built a brace to push my leaning chicken coop back to upright, and then painted the chicken coop with the last of the house paint.

I was checking two loaves of brown bread in the oven, and straightened up to look out the window when I saw him down on his haunches, tickling one of my three kitties and smiling. Then he went to the pump by the back porch and used the soap I keep there and washed up. He ate a big slab of ham and almost half a loaf of hot bread right out of the oven, and I had to tell him to slow down, he would get sick from eating such hot bread. But he said in the Army he never had such bread, and hot or not, it was good.

He stirred up things by moving and straightening things I can’t even lift, so there seemed to be mice running everywhere, and my kitties were all over the place, chasing them or carrying them in their mouths. It became a contest, the cats and dogs both trying to gobble every mouse they could get, even if they had to take them away from each other, so there were a few noisy scuffles between them.

By mid afternoon, he built me a fire to make some more soap, and even helped me strain the fat. Then he went to the corral to tighten up some fence, he said, but I didn’t watch him as I had to stir the soap. He came back just as I was pouring it into the molds, and admired the pink stuff, and I explained that I still had some perfume left over, and the one that broke was for my next batch.

The sun was low in the sky, and in an hour it would be supper time again, and so I expected he would stay like yesterday and I was cooking up a big dinner. But he came back with his horse, and dressed up, with his hat on, ready to leave.

He nodded to me and said, I came to tell you, I have worked for you two days.

Yes, I said, you did a good job.

Then he said, I didn’t do it for free, Mrs. Reed.

Well, I said, what do you want? I was counting up the hours he spent in my head and thinking I could give him maybe ten dollars, if he was going to push me for it.

But the look on his face was something other than I expected, and then he grinned that half grin of his and his eyes sparkled. You know what I want, he said, and stood real close to me, so that I could feel his body even though he wasn’t touching me. My lips felt hot as if they remembered the feeling of his lips against them. It was hard to breathe and my throat was so dry that when I spoke, my voice made a funny sound.

If you think I’m going to let you kiss me again, in such an indecent way, well, you’d better not try it, Captain Elliot, I said.

Then he got real serious and said, Not only would you let me kiss you Mrs. Reed, you want me to. However, as nice a payment as that might be, I had much more in mind.

I know my eyes opened wide and I was shocked. I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me.

Oh, don’t look at me like that, he said, putting his hat back on his head. You know that’s not what I meant. I asked you to meet me in town for the Fourth of July and you never said no, but I have a suspicion you’d never show up if you didn’t feel obliged to. So now you owe me. He mounted his horse. A date in Tucson. By noon on the fourth. I’ll meet you at the depot, and plan to stay at least a couple of days. And don’t come alone with your baby, it’s too dangerous. And you’d better show up or I’ll be back, until you owe me your whole ranch. Then you’ll be the subject of more talk around town than a sin like white petticoats and being an Indian soldier!

June 30, 1885

I have to admit, with a couple of days of a man’s hand my ranch looks bright and shiny, and the house is freshly painted, and the cats are full and sassy, lying in the shade licking themselves. After Captain Elliot left I saw that he had lied, and when he said he was tightening up the corral fence, what he was really doing was digging a hole. He had planted a little bush by my front steps and there was a brown piece of paper stuck on the thorns of it. Picking it off, I got stuck and a drop of blood from my finger soaked into the paper. Written there in the same little tight capital letters that came on the seed packages was this:

T
HIS WILD ROSE BUSH WILL LIVE MANY YEARS
.
P
RUNE IT ONLY IN THE DEAD OF WINTER
.
W
ATER EVERY OTHER DAY AND
COVER IT WITH A BLANKET FROM FREEZES
.

What possessed him to do all this work and give me a gift like that, just for a date in town? A rose bush. I wonder what the flowers look like? I never have seen a real rose bush, and I didn’t know they lived years and years. I will have to ask Mama about roses. I got right up and hammered some stakes in the ground around it and wrapped wire about them to keep the rabbits and things from eating it. I don’t feel so mad at him, but purely puzzled.

July 1, 1885

Last night I had a dream that Captain Jack Elliot was here lying beside me in this bed. I was so sure it was real I could feel his skin and hear him breathing, and I reached over with my hand and there was no one there. I felt sad. Then I was mad at myself and got myself up on my knees and asked the Lord to forgive my wanton heart. And when I slept again I dreamed of being kissed like he did on my back porch, and there was nothing like it in all my days. That time I didn’t wake up but felt him wrapped around me like he was before, and somehow smiling that funny grin and kissing me at the same time. Then I slept in real late this morning, and didn’t wake up until April came and crawled up on my bed. I looked over around for a sign of him being there in the night, and there were none. And I felt some relieved but more empty than a leaky bucket.

Albert rode over here today to see how things looked, and he said real carelessly, Well, looks like you have had some work done on the place.

Albert Prine, I said, you have showed a scoundrel side of yourself by helping that man to trick me.

He nodded at me and grinned. It wasn’t any trick, he said. Jack wanted to help you out and said you’d agreed to pay him. What’d he charge you?

I said, I have to drive all the way to Tucson just to eat dinner and supper with him, and sit the whole afternoon in his presence and be tormented!

Oh, he said, still grinning, That’s mighty odd.

That’s not all, I said, it’s going to cost you too, since I am promised not to come alone with April, but must be escorted safely by you. I figured that would singe his tail feathers good, as he hates to take time off especially just to be an escort, not even on farm business.

But all he said was, Fine, we’ll take Harland and drive half a dozen of your horses to market, and he and I’ll be busy selling horses while you keep company. The Fourth of July will be a big day and lots of people will be in town. Come spend the night at Mama’s on the third, and leave April there and we will leave before first light and be there by noon, he said.

How, Mister Albert Frederick Prine, did you know it was the Fourth of July?

July 4, 1885

We left Albert’s place early, and even with the string of yearlings along we got to town before noon. Albert would not let me ride a horse but insisted I drive the wagon. Harland has his schoolwork all neatly held in a satchel just like the town boys use, and he said it was a gift from Jack Elliot.

Well, I told him, that man doesn’t give a gift without a string attached, and he said What does that mean? But I couldn’t explain it, I just know it for truth.

Albert knows something about all this but he is not telling, and I am not real happy with him.

True to his word, Captain Elliot was waiting at the depot in a rented, shiny black buggy, which he helped me into almost immediately and put my bag in the back. Then he said hello and talked a bit to Albert and Harland, and said he has arranged for three soldiers to camp at our places, one at each, to guard while we are in town. That is probably a good thing, although all has been quiet for weeks now.

I had gotten my mind all prepared for putting up with his shenanigans, but he seemed polite and courteous, and only teased me when other people couldn’t hear, for which I am thankful. We strolled and looked into shops I have never been inside, and I discovered there is quite a bit more to Tucson than I had thought—more than Jimmy showed me. Also, there is now an ice factory in town and it was so wonderful to have a cold, cold drink in the warm afternoon.

We went to the ice shop and he bought a cherry phosphate with two soda straws to share it. I never had such a fancy, tingly thing to drink and I was afraid it was liquor but he said no, just sugar and cherry juice. He pretended to drink some but mostly he let me have it all, and while I drank it he pretended to be looking out the windows but I saw his eyes flit back at me now and then.

I figured he was real proud of himself for renting a buggy, so I told him it was nice, and just to make conversation I said maybe someday I’d like to have one. It sure was a smoother ride than my old wagon. Anyway, I began to be in a better mood. But, if he thinks he is going to kiss me again for a lunch and a buggy ride, I will never, ever let him.

Then he took me to a place in Carillo Gardens where there were little canoes to ride, and made me sit down and he rowed around the tiny lake. We admired the water lilies growing in the shady places, and the ducks and geese, and there were even two important swans he said were brought from California just to be admired in the pond.

Then I understood he had said imported, which means brought in from somewhere else, not important, and I thought it was funny and said, Well, they look pretty important, too.

He said, I like to see you smile, which made me embarrassed, so I tried to talk about something else. I hope no one looks this way and thinks Captain Elliot is my fellow.

Before we knew it, we had talked away the whole afternoon about this and that. The carrying on out in the streets was getting crazy by then, men were shooting guns and boys were lighting firecrackers, scaring dogs and horses, and it seemed like you took life and limb in hand just to ride back in the buggy through town.

We had a real elegant dinner in a place with carpets on the floors and table cloths and silver candlesticks on the tables, and a real stiff man asked us what we wanted and sniffed at me when I couldn’t decide. It was some pretty fancy cooking. Little carrots in a ring decorated the meat which they called Prime Rib but it was just a piece of roast beef. There was cake with thick frosting for desert.

When the man came back with the bill, I waited until he left, then asked Captain Elliot how much it is. I figured if he expected me to pay him back in Tucson, then I had brought my money, and this was a grand and fancy dinner, so this must be what he wanted.

He put his hand on mine when I reached into my bag, and said Sh-sh, real softly. Never, never, he said, pay for a man’s dinner. Your contribution is simply being company.

I was purely puzzled.

The restaurant started to clear out, and the noise and carrying on in the street was louder. The band was playing again, real music this time, and up on the side of the hill by downtown the fireworks began. He took my arm and we walked down to where we could see the sky fill up with the sparkling things and hear the booming.

Pretty soon, he asked me, How come you jump every time they go off?

So I said, Well, I don’t like the smell of black powder, it just makes me remember. And then I choked up like a little girl and couldn’t finish.

He put his hand on my back and said, Come with me, Mrs. Reed. And right away we whisked away from the fireworks and back to the buggy, where he pointed it away from the downtown area and snapped the whip and we drove out to some open road. It was calm there, and cool, and the breeze kept the smell far from us.

You’re still shaking, he said.

No I’m not, I told him.

He just made a tired face at me and nodded, saying Okay, you’re not.

We were silent for a long time, and finally, he was looking at the stars, real thoughtful like, and said to me, You know, I’ve never thought about it before, but fireworks always bothered me too. I remember the smell of gunpowder and the sound of cannons when the Union Army took our town. I remember people running, and the smell. Then he took a deep breath, and said, They burned our house over our heads. My mother had just had a baby, and I was six years old. She begged them not to set it on fire. She gave me my little brother to carry while she took my two sisters’ hands, but I couldn’t get out, a burning timber fell in between us. Then she came back for us and handed me out a window just as the ceiling fell in on her and the baby.