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Reconstruction resounded with loud hammers and nails.
Ex-confederates leaned against hitching posts and walls, some missing arms, legs, or even eyes, watching the day unfold, with tight lips and furrowed brows, still wearing their dingy, holey uniforms, none wearing the pride or dignity of victory.
An unremarkable day unfolded until Lee rounded the corner and saw a Negro woman with three little girls, loading a wagon with supplies. Nothing strange about her or her girls except the serious expression she wore, her shoulders sagged, her mouth turned downward, her hair was tied into a knot at her nape. She filled out her dress and then some, handsome wide hips, and ample breasts to pillow a man with. Stout and strong and beautiful as he’d ever seen. She wasn’t some scrawny little girl, this was a fully grown woman, ripe for the pickin’. Lee felt himself react. That hadn’t happened in a long time. But for some strange reason, his hand itched to hold her in his embrace. And despite the fact that he only had one arm now, she brought out the man in him.
Her helpers were a short staircase of little girls.
The youngest staircase stopped, bent over to retrieve their mutt of a puppy under the wagon, and displayed a rather wet pair of pantaloons to Lee’s curious glance. The corners of Lee’s mouth tugged. Still too little to climb up the wagon, the others helped her up and scoffed that she was wet.
They quickly pulled her pantaloons down and laid them to dry on the side of the wagon, waving like a proud flag in the gentle breeze. The puppy barked and wagged its tail, the youngest stuck her tongue out at the mutt, and he licked her right on the mouth. She giggled.
Then a boy about thirteen jumped on the back of the wagon, hanging his bare feet over the edge. He had a small sack and was pulling candy out of it. He turned and looked at the oldest girl who frowned mightily at him.
“What’s that you got?” she asked him.
“Peppermint, that’s what. Want some?” he offered her a stick of candy with a grin.
The girl looked for a long minute then huffed and sat down beside him. “Where did you get candy?”
“I polished a man’s boots, and he gave me a nickel to buy candy. So I did.” He handed some to the others now, then turned to look at the oldest.
“You worked for it?”
“Shore did.”
“Oh…well, then that’s different.” She smiled and licked the candy.
Lee couldn’t help but admire the girl’s attitude.
But he was looking at the boy. He knew him. It had to be Sam, and if that was Sam, then the woman was Hattie. He mentally figured in his head, yes, Hattie would be twenty-four by now, that was about right. Good grief, she’d grown up and into a beauty. Of course he’d never tell her that, but she was as pretty as he’d ever seen.
Lee felt a little sunshine leak into his heart, melting away the cold thoughts of war and killing. It’d been a long time since he watched children play, or noticed how a woman was built.
The woman started pulling away from the dry goods when a burly man came along side her, pulling in front of her so she could not move. With a loud crackling whip, popping it in the dirt by her horse, he startled her and her girls. The horse reared, wild eyed, and the woman grasp the reins tightly, a challenging defiance stared up at him from the wagon.
“I told you there’d be no more credit at this store for you.” The man’s craggy brows nearly touched as he stared the woman down. “We don’t sell to squatters. And Negro ladies don’t own land, you understand that? It ain’t done. Not in Alabama they don’t, even if they did come by it honestly.”
Lee’s head jerked at the statement. His jaw tightened, a frown replaced the smiles of a moment before.
She didn’t look like a squatter to him. And Hattie certainly didn’t deserve the tongue lashing the man was bent on giving her.
“And I told you I’m not a squatter. I legally own the rights to the land, as the judge has already settled that in front of witnesses. Besides, haven’t you heard? It’s a free country now. I have as much right to buy supplies as anyone, Mr. Jeffries, good day.” She tried to move the horses along, but he stopped her, again.
Lee’s head jerked up. He hadn’t recognized the woman, but he recognized her voice, and the attitude. Hattie!
“You owe back taxes on that place and it’s only a matter of time before you’re evicted. I’ve warned you. Time and time again. I even offered you a fair price, all you got to do is sign the papers over to me, and I might even consider lettin’ you stay on the property, as I have no real use of more land, only the water rights I’m interested in. It would behoove you to sell to me, why must you be so stubborn? I’m not an unfair man. I’m offering you more than you deserve and you know it. You have no means of income, how can you possibly hold onto that land, now? Taxes have to be paid.” The man’s words sputtered from his mouth like acrid spit. “You are a right good lookin’ woman, for a Negro, I’ll give you that much. A man would have to be blind not to see that. Guess you cain’t help that. Any man would notice. My son fancies you for some reason, I’m sure as a plaything, as I’d never allow him to marry a Negro. Even a lovely one. Any man marryin’ a Negro woman in Alabama is nothin’ but trash. Everybody knows that. So you’ll never be a Jeffries. He’d never consider marriage. No decent white man would. You are a plaything, Miss Tanner.”
“I’m not interested in your son…Mr. Jeffries, and I wouldn’t permit it either.” Her words rang like a lifeless church bell. “And it may interest you to know that I’m not after a man. I only want to make a home for my children.”
Lee?
?s eyes went over her in that moment, from head to toe, reassessing. There was more to her than met the eye, there always had been! Hattie was different from any woman he’d ever met: beautiful, sassy and brave. His glance lingered on the full breasts that jutted from her dress as though they needed to touch the very air. He licked his lips. Damn, how could this one woman hold his attention so? But he’d been raised to see no color in folks and the fact that she was a Negro didn’t bother him, although he knew in Alabama that was dangerous. For both of them. Not only that, but she used to be just a kid, a skinny little kid. There was nothing skinny about her now. She was shaped like a woman should be, Lee determined with great interest. It was hard enough getting used to the idea that his little Hattie had grown up, but that she was breathtakingly beautiful too was a pleasant shock. If he’d had let himself admit it, he had been quite taken with her years ago. Even a war hadn’t marred his memory of her. Maybe it should have, but it hadn’t. Many nights around a campfire he’d thought of the kisses they’d shared, and it brought a comfort to him, a comfort he couldn’t define.
Okay, so he’d helped her once when she was just a child. He didn’t need to get involved any further. Obviously she’d been married and had some children of her own. But he knew he’d had a soft spot in his heart for her all along. A spot he’d never talk about. He just hadn’t expected her to grow into such a voluptuous woman.
He leaned against the building for a long moment studying her profile. It had been a while since he indulged in ogling a lady. Deep in his heart he’d packed away a few amorous moments, but for some reason he’d never become serious about any woman. And yet he’d often thought about Hattie and Sam.
This particular woman’s beauty grew each time he looked at her. He didn’t like what looking at her did to him. Her face was round and soft looking, with full lips and slightly flaring nostrils. But he remembered the eyes more than anything about her, how they flashed with life. Her hair came down about her face in sprigs now, turning it black as night, her facial features softened in the early morning glare. She’d be twenty-four now, but could she have three children of her own? It didn’t seem likely.
