Anna was a round robust little woman and was missing her front teeth. Clark had kicked them out when she was nine, when she hadn’t stepped out of his way quickly enough. She was shy about her missing teeth and when she laughed, she held her hand daintily up to her mouth to shield it from view. Gabe had started sparking her some nights ago, Joseph had relayed this information to his grandmother and Liza had told Mary.
Mary had looked at Dark Henry with a gimlet eye, he had not mentioned a thing. Henry looked helplessly between the women.
“I didn’t know, honest.” Henry assured Mary. She smiled. It would seem that Gabe was hushed mouth about everything now a days and didn’t share a thing. Slightly mollified, Mary went back to cooking. The pong of fried potatoes, onions and fish filled the tiny cabin. Henry’s stomach growled loudly, startling Victor, who had dosed off in his father’s warm arms. Laughter filled the cabin and Henry lifted up his son over his head, eliciting a squeal of delight from his son. Ida promptly hopped off Liza’s lap, wanting her turn. She pulled insistently at her father’s shirt, demanding the same treatment.
Setting Victor on the floor, Henry picked his daughter up and lifted her up in his arms and shook her around. Her tinkling laugher filled the cabin and Henry took her out into the yard, with Victor hot on their trail. Willy jumped down, not to be left out and ran with them, leaving the woman to talk around the table. Mary placed a lid over the fry pan and grabbed the kettle of hot water to pour into her cup.
Mary smiled, it reminded her of when her mother and Liza would sit at the table and drink tea. She felt a pang of sorrow and longing shoot through her.
“I miss mamma. I miss you and her sitting here drinking tea.” Mary said softly. Liza smiled and reached over a calloused hand and placed it gently over Mary’s hand, squeezing.
“I do too, child. Sometimes I dreams about her. Makes me sad to wake.” Liza smiled and shrugged.
The gentle moment was broken when the door burst open and Henry came in with the children wrapped around his long leg. He limped into the house, panting heavily.
“I brung ya some squirrels for supper.” He laughed, the children hanging on. Mary went to grab them and the children squealed and scattered, going to the back of the cabin. Ida took up her mother’s corn husk doll to play while the boys played in the bed covers.
Later, the adults sat at the table eating a quiet dinner, the children already fed and bedded down for the night. Gabe came by earlier to collect Willy. The small group looked at Gabe pointedly, but he didn’t say anything about Anna. Mary’s mouth quivered with suppressed laughter. Henry was squirming and Mary knew the subject of a new woman made him nervous. No woman liked to think she was replaceable. After dinner, Liza left them alone, finding her own bed.
Henry pulled Mary onto his lap, glad that company was gone and he had his wife to himself. With each passing year, Mary seemed to become more beautiful to him. The pregnancies had filled her body out, her breasts and hips were lush. His hand swatted her haunches playfully and he waggled his eye brows and nodded toward their bed. Mary grinned at the blatant invitation and blew out the candles on the table. Taking his larger hand in hers, she led the way to their bed. Their soft laughter filled the cabin, their whispers floated about them like wisps of smoke.
He loved the feel of Mary’s hand gently on his back. The ropes of the bed creaked softly under their shifting weight. The soft sighs of the children did not disturb their lovemaking, they were in a world of their own. Nothing mattered in those precious moments, except the two of them.
As the spring blended into summer, Gabe increased his pursuit of Anna, much to the delight of Anna’s mother, Ruth. Anna positively glowed, so happy to have the handsome man’s attention. It would be an instant family for her, but Anna was use to taking care of children. She had seven brothers and sisters of her own, four of which had been sold years ago. Some of them had been taken, along with Ellis, gone from their lives.
Liza presided over the ceremony of marriage, it was held in late fall, as beautiful leaves showered over them. She had taken over Old Bitsy’s duties. Anna and Gabe went to their cabin, while Gabe’s children went to stay with Liza, where they would stay for the next few nights. The children ran wild around the adults, playing tag and war. Food was placed on makeshift tables. There was cool cider to drink as well. One of the men, Carl, brought out a fiddle and played jigs and reels. The music went on into the night.
News came almost daily about the fighting around the country. Patina had delivered a daughter; Theo had named her Rachel. Rachel was as pale as her older brother, though she had brown eyes. John was becoming senile, and had to be taken in at night, he sat on the porch all day. Drake was a rascal, and was the bane of Ida’s life, with his antics and rough housing. Drake and Victor played hard, coming in the house bloody from rough play. Their happy faces glowing with giddy rapture.
