Simple Jess Read online

  "There was nothing happening between you. I didn't sense nothing."

  "You didn't sense nothing?" Eben's face was close and he was scornful with amusement. "Are you so knowledgeable of the ladies, Simple Jess, that you can sense when one has been kissed?"

  "You didn't kiss her," Jesse stated flatly. "Miss Althea would have slapped you."

  "You think Miz Winsloe would have slapped me if I had tried to kiss her?"

  "I know she would have slapped you," Jesse answered furiously. "If you'd have kissed her she would have slapped you."

  "Is that what women do?"

  "It's what Miss Althea would do. And it would have hurt, too, I know, 'cause it hurt me."

  "What?"

  "When she slapped me it sure hurt."

  "Althea Winsloe slapped you?"

  "Well, yeah."

  Jesse looked at Althea. Her eyes were wide.

  "Why would she slap you?" Eben's question was low and genuinely curious.

  "Well, because I . . . I . . ."

  Jesse was searching for the correct words to explain. To explain all about the deer hunt. How scared she'd been. He hadn't realized that Baby-Paisley shouldn't have been there. She was scared and hadn't meant to say such a hateful thing. He was searching for the words.

  "Did you kiss her?"

  Jesse was momentarily confused with what seemed to be a change of subject.

  "Well yes," he answered. "I kissed her. She said I weren't to do that no more."

  "You kissed Althea Winsloe!" Eben's tone was incredulous.

  Jesse looked up to see the crowd staring at him in horror. He turned his glance to Althea. She was looking at him now, her soft, sweet little hand covering her mouth. It had been very wrong for Jesse to kiss her and now he'd gone and told it to everyone on the mountain.

  "Well, yes, I kissed her. I ... I thought it was okay," he explained. "So I did, I brung her into my arms and I kissed her. But then she said that I was never to kiss her again, never."

  They were looking at him. Stunned. Disbelieving. Reproachful.

  "That's the truth," Jesse said quietly. He looked at Miss Althea. She was looking back at him. "It is the truth, ain't it?"

  * * *

  Althea Winsloe stood alone within the middle of the crowd. Her chin was high. Her voice silent. Nobody spoke to her. Nobody dared.

  After Jesse's testimony, the crowd went into disbelieving shock. The McNees family, mostly Beulah, tried valiantly to wrestle the situation back from the jury. It had been their rather obvious intent to make it look like Althea must remarry because her morals were weakened and she was in danger of being led into sin. Clearly the actual situation was worse than what the conspirators had planned to imply. And Beulah no longer wanted strangers having any say in Althea's fate.

  Pigg was adamant, however. It was a kangaroo court. That's what they'd wanted and that's what they'd got. He told the jury to deliberate and the little quartet had done so for a good twenty minutes before calling Pigg over to confer with them.

  Althea waited, knowing that whatever they decided, it was not going to be something that she liked. Her life was being taken over by well-meaning strangers. She would have to be very strong and determined to take it back.

  It was late, very late. They should all have been home and in bed long since. But Althea was not aware of even one person who had made an early departure. The little pile of sleeping children had grown to a mountain. And Althea could only be grateful that Baby-Paisley snoozed undisturbed. His life was to be changed this night as surely as her own, but she didn't want him to see it coming. She would do all she could to protect him from it. She'd made promises to herself. Promises on behalf of her child. If there was any way on earth to manage it, she would keep those promises.

  The pine-knot torches were burning low. Several had already sputtered and gone out, making the area darker, somehow more threatening. People gathered together in little groups, huddled waiting. Althea waited alone.

  She gave a guarded glance in the direction of Jesse Best. He'd joined his family a bit away from the crowd. They now stood around him like a protective barrier. Roe Farley, with Little Edith sound asleep upon his shoulder, was in front, braced and wary as if ready to thwart any move made in their direction. Meggie looked just as stern, her arm draped comfortingly around Jesse's waist. Even Onery looked ready to spit nails at anyone who might be tempted to heckle, make sport, or further interrogate Jesse about what had happened.

  Jesse himself looked more frustrated than angry. He knew he'd said the wrong thing. He had been trying to save her. She understood that. She understood what he had meant. It came through to her ears as clearly as the sweet tones of his fiddle playing. But poor Jesse, words were so hard for him. When it came to self-expression and phrases and hidden meanings, he would always be at a disadvantage. Eben Baxley had used that disadvantage to tangle him up. And he had told the truth. He had kissed her and he had held her. It shouldn't have happened. And for certain it was her fault. Perhaps she deserved whatever punishment was to be divvied out.

  Jesse wasn't looking at her. All evening she'd felt his eyes upon her. In a way, it had seemed to comfort and soothe her. There was no soothing her now. Purposely, deliberately, determinedly, Jesse was not looking at her. She was certain that either Roe, Meggie, or his father had warned him not to.

  The outcome of this night would, in its way, be worse for Jesse. Althea didn't know what her fate would be, but somehow she could get through this calamity unscathed. Jesse wouldn't be so fortunate. Jesse Best had kissed a woman and now people knew it. Whether they believed that Althea had led him on or not, parents would be warning their daughters to steer clear. The notion folks now had of Jesse Best would include not just his sweetness, his strength, and the sounds of his fiddle, but also his sexuality. For folks on the mountain, simple and sex didn't go together. That was a thing to be feared. His faintest gesture of kindness to the young girls would be suspect. And that way he had of standing quietly among the ladies as if just enjoying being near them would now make the womenfolk uneasy. There would always be that little element of alarm that perhaps at any moment he would suddenly try to kiss one of them. It was nonsense, but Althea knew realistically that was how it was bound to be.

  "All right! All right!" Pigg Broody called out to the crowd. "Gather around here, we've finally got this whole thing sorted out."

  Althea stepped forward bravely. She would not allow herself to be cowered by this. She felt every eye in the community upon her. She was alone. But then she always had been. Since the day her father had left her behind, she had always been alone.

  Eben Baxley stepped up beside her. She glanced up at him. His expression was almost apologetic. He hadn't intended this to happen quite like it had. She knew that, and truly she didn't blame him. It was all Beulah's doing.

  Althea glanced toward her mother-in-law. Beulah Winsloe looked almost as worried as Althea and she was more upset. Althea wondered what she must think and what new revised plans she was working on now. Her husband Orv was by her side, looking both affronted and dismayed. Her brother, Tom McNees, caught Althea's eye. His expression was reproachful.

  Althea raised a challenging brow. She was not about to let holier-than-thou Tom McNees look down on her. This whole stunt could be laid at the feet of a woman all right. But that woman wasn't Althea, it was Beulah Winsloe. That woman just had to have her way. Always. She wanted control of the farm. She wanted control of Baby-Paisley. She was determined to get what she wanted and her interfering schemes had brought them to this pass. Althea sighed in resignation. That was her mother-in-law and she wasn't likely to change.

  There was only one woman on the mountain who was worse than Beulah about making folks do it her way. Granny Piggott stood on the porch next to Pigg.

  "Granny here is to speak for the jury," Pigg announced. "Have ye reached a verdict?"

  The old woman was not at all happy and was looking Althea straight in the eye. "That we have."
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  "Please inform the accused," he said.

  "Althea Winsloe," Granny said formally. "We, this jury, find that you are without doubt a woman that ought to remarry and we find you guilty of shirking yer duty to do so."

  Murmurs of agreement filtered through the crowd. Althea purposely showed no emotion or surprise. Quietly, calmly, she considered her next move.

  Pigg was speaking once more. "The jury and I have consulted together upon sentencing of this crime and we feel we've come up with a fair and just resolution for all."

  The crowd had gathered in closer and closer to hear. Althea felt surrounded and squeezed. She had to remind herself to stay calm and to breathe.

  "Althea Winsloe," Pigg began. "It is the decision of this kangaroo court that you shall remarry."

  The hushed voices around her seemed to concur with the judgment.

  "However," Pigg continued, "we don't think it right that ye don't get a say in who the man is ye marry. Yer family has done much here this night to embarrass ye and we ain't about to reward them for their troublemaking."

  Granny Piggott nodded purposefully at that.

  Beulah began to huff and complain. Her husband, for once, hushed her.

  "So, we give ye leave to marry any man on the mountain that will have you," he finished.

  Everyone began talking at once. Beulah, Tom, and Orv were well geared up for an argument. She could hear Buell Phillips pompously hailing the decree as if it were his own. There were giggles and speculation from the young women near the back.

  "What if none will have me?" Althea asked loudly, bringing the chattering crowd to still silence in one brief instant.

  Pigg looked dumbfounded at the question.

  Granny raised a speculative eyebrow. "Why wouldn't they?" the old woman asked, more than a hint of accusation in her voice. "Have you done worse than loll on a bed with Eben Baxley and take up kissin' with Jesse Best?"

  Althea's cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. "No. I ... I haven't done anything else."

  Granny shrugged and stuck the pipe back into her mouth before commenting from clenched teeth. "Then ye ain't much further lapsed than a lot of gals. I doubt most fellers on this mountain are going to hold that against ye," she pointed out.

  There were sounds of agreement on that score.

  "Perhaps the men won't be interested when they hear what I'll demand of a new marriage," she said.

  Once more the silence in the clearing was eerie.

  "What are you demanding?"

  "No children," Althea said firmly.

  Granny's mouth dropped open and she was barely able to catch her pipe before it fell to the ground. Her brow furrowed in confusion. "That's the Lord's decision," she said.

  "I believe all of us here know that men and women have at least as much to do with such events as the Lord does," Althea insisted.

  "You mean . . ."

  "I mean that any man who marries me had better know right off that I won't bear him any children. And I won't, not ever, be a party to the making of them," she declared. "I can't make it much plainer in front of decent folks, Granny. Any man who wants to marry up with me had best be resolved to long cold winter nights sleeping on his own."

  Words of disbelief ricocheted like rifle bullets through the assembled.

  Beulah Winsloe sputtered. "You can't be expectin' a man to ... to do without the . . . the comforts of—"

  Althea interrupted her. "I'm not expecting. I am insisting," Althea told her. "I promised myself when Paisley died that I wouldn't wed again and I would have no more children."

  "That's agin' nature," Pigg insisted. "It just ain't the way things are meant to be."

  "Perhaps so," Althea countered. "But neither was the kangaroo court meant to be used for this. You can force me to marry. You can force me, with your mean spirited maneuvers and nasty insinuations. But you can't make a woman, any woman, have a child against her will."

  "She does have the right of that," Granny pointed out. "Not unless the feller forces hisself on her and none in my family were raised that way."

  "The McNees don't mistreat women either!" Beulah insisted harshly. "But what man will marry her with those kinds of conditions?"

  "I will."

  The answer came from behind Althea. She turned in surprise to see Oather Phillips not a bucket's length from her elbow.

  "I'm declaring for her," Oather said. "I'll marry her tonight and I'll abide by her wishes." He turned to look her directly in the eyes. "I promise that," he said softly.

  The silence around them was from disbelief.

  "Well, I'll be switched," Pigg Broody began, stopping only to spit a jaw full and offer a chuckle. "Feller, ere ye sure ye know what yer putting yourself in for?"

  Oather wasn't given a chance to answer.

  "I'm willing to wed her, too," Eben Baxley piped up.

  "What?"

  Disbelief bordered upon amazement.

  "You surely don't mean that, son," Granny declared.

  "We've been speaking plainly tonight, so I'll speak plainly here," he said. "I'm as willing to own that farm as Oather Phillips is."

  "That was not—"

  Eben interrupted him. "I suspect if Oather can live without the lady's favors, I can as well. Course maybe we're both thinking that she'll change her mind."

  He turned to give her a wink and a grin. Althea ignored both.

  "Or if she don't, well"—his glance went past her toward Oather and betrayed more than a hint of challenge—"I'm declaring for her anyway. I suspect I might be able to find other interests here on the mountain."

  Oather's eyes narrowed in fury, but Granny intervened.

  "Let's have no more vile talk tonight."

  "Granny's right," Pigg agreed, still chuckling over the idea of fellows willing to marry without the comforts. "Enough is enough. Both you boys is willing to marry this gal?"

  "I am."

  "Me, too."

  "All right then, Althea, which one of these fellers do you want?" Pigg asked.

  Althea stared back at Pigg in shock and disbelief. She'd played her trump card and her bluff had been called. She glanced at the young men who stood on either side of her.

  Expectantly, they, and the community of Marrying Stone, waited for her answer.

  "It ain't good to go against your family," Beulah pointed out hopefully. "Eben is family and a friend to our poor dead Paisley. There'd be lots of gals more than eager to catch him."

  "You've known my boy all your life," Buell Phillips declared, pushing his way to the front of the crowd to face her. "He's a fine prospect by any standard. Good to his mama and sister and a fine business to inherit when I pass on."

  "You don't want the Phillips as your in-laws," Eben pointed out, earning him a killing look from the storekeeper.

  "That Eben Baxley is a rounder and up to no good," Oather whispered quietly against her neck. "He cannot be trusted not to hurt you, or not to lie to you."

  Althea's thoughts were in a whirl. Her chance was lost, her plans gone awry. There was no one to help her. No one she could count upon to be on her side.

  As if suddenly drawn there by an unseen force, her gaze turned to Jesse Best. He was not avoiding her now. Whether he'd been warned or not, he watched her, his heart in his eyes. His look conveyed some message. Some message that her mind couldn't decipher. He'd been in this spot so many times, she knew. Day after day he had to make choices that he didn't understand based on truths that he didn't know. How did he do that? How did he manage? Suddenly the image came to her of Jesse in the mornings at the farm. Jesse standing tall and silent in the middle of the yard, looking all around, thinking, assessing, figuring out what to do by slow, careful deliberation.

  "I ... I can't pick tonight," Althea told them. "I can't do it."

  "Do you want someone to do it for ye?" Granny asked.

  "I need time. I can't just say yes, right now, tonight. I need time. No one could choose without considering it through."

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p; Pigg's brow furrowed. "What do ye think?"

  Granny tapped her pipe against her teeth pensively. "It does seem a mite sudden just standing her betwixt the two of 'em."

  Momentarily the jury reconvened.

  Eben grinned at her with confidence and then glared over her head at Oather.

  Beside her, she could sense young Phillips's growing frustration and fury. But she didn't waste a minute of worry on it. She would do it the way Jesse did. Slowly, with due consideration she'd figure out which way to go. She couldn't just choose one of these men. Surely, she wouldn't be expected to marry without being given time to make a true choice. She didn't want to marry at all. Even children and the bedding part aside, Althea didn't want to make her life with either of these men.

  Inexplicably her gaze drifted once more to Jesse. He stood still and silent, but his expression was trusting and sure. Why couldn't things just go on as they had? Why couldn't she just continue to have Jesse work for her?

  That was not to be. No one was going to let life go on as it had before.

  The jury turned back to face her. Althea raised her chin bravely, awaiting their judgment.

  Granny's voice was loud and clear.

  "Althea Winsloe will marry, all right. That we've decided. But marriage is serious business and the whole life long. She can't just be made to pick one of these fellers without giving it some thought."

  Althea felt the weight of her shoulders momentarily relax, as around her the crowd began muttering their opinions once more.

  "Also, these fellers got to show her what they're made of, so she has something besides their good looks to recommend them."

  That caused a bit of laughter.

  "But she can't have forever," Beulah complained. "Given half a chance, that girl will stall the whole life long."

  "We ain't giving her forever," Granny answered. "She's got until Christmas Day. If she ain't decided by then, it's fitting that her family make the choice."

  "Christmas Day! That's only three weeks," Althea protested.

  Granny gave her a stern look. "Be grateful for what ye got, young woman. You ain't a-likely to get a minute more."