The Ballad of Hattie Taylor Read online

  “Hey,” he said cheerfully. “I had to come to town to pick up some feed and thought the two of you might like to join me for a spin in my motorcar first.”

  “Oh yes!” Hattie responded enthusiastically. “That sounds like a marvelous way to celebrate a rare day off.” She turned to Nell. “Don’t you think?”

  “I do,” Nell agreed with a smile, and after collecting their dustcovers and hats, they joined Jake at the automobile he was in the midst of preparing for ignition. Nell felt the moody angst that had been haunting her dissipate.

  Then Hattie ruined the “marvelous celebration” by waiting until they were on their way before suggesting they stop by the Marks home to see if Moses cared to join them as well. By then, of course, it was too late to back out, and from the moment Moses climbed into the back seat with her, it went sideways. He didn’t say a word to her—not even so much as Great weather today. And he gave her those awful sardonic smiles that never touched his blue eyes.

  It felt like an eternity before they finally dropped Moses off back at his house. Once they returned to Augusta’s, Nell raced up the stairs ahead of Hattie, wanting only to escape to her room, where she could bawl her eyes out in private. She could not bear the thought of having to talk to anyone, and luckily Augusta was visiting a friend. Since Hattie usually spent several moments saying goodbye to Jake, Nell felt safe in fleeing.

  * * *

  —

  Hattie was fed up with Moses’ and Nell’s attitudes and seethed in anger. She said goodbye to Jake in record time and followed practically on Nell’s heels, entering her friend’s room behind Nell and firmly closing the door. “What is the matter with you two?” she demanded hotly. “Good grief, can we not have one simple drive without you and Moses acting like a couple of cats with one fish? Separately, you’re both so funny and fun and just plain nice. But together? Nell, if you had fur instead of skin it would be standing permanently on end in his presence. And Moses spits and snarls like his tail is caught in a wringer.”

  Nell neither acknowledged her presence nor said a word in response, and frustrated with having to talk to her back, Hattie grabbed her by the arm and whirled her around. “Will you look at me when I’m talking to you?” She went still with shock, sighting the torrent of tears cascading down her friend’s cheeks.

  “He hates me!” Nell sobbed. “It’s so easy for you because he thinks the sun sets and rises on you, but he hates me and I can’t bear it. You think I don’t know how I act when I’m around him?” Her words crowded each other as she spoke faster and faster, clearly choking on her tears as she angrily faced Hattie. She dashed her forearm across her eyes in an ineffectual attempt to stem the flow. “I know perfectly well I must look and sound like an old-maid prude. But I can’t stop because I know he can’t s-stand the sight of me, while I’m aware of every darn thing about him. Like how he’s so robust. And how I feel c-crowded and can’t breathe when he’s around. And how big his hands are and what I feel when I look at them. But he’s in love with you, and he thinks I’m a pompous prig, and I want to die, all right? So why don’t you just save your lectures. In fact, get out of my room and leave me alone!”

  Hattie stared at her friend in stunned silence. She had never seen Nell so out of control, and Hattie’s first reaction was incredulity. Nell liked Moses? She had an odd way of showing it!

  Then Hattie was ashamed of herself. Who knew better than she how confused emotions could affect one’s actions? Gently, she reached out and touched Nell’s flushed face, deciding to deal with the obvious first. “Moses isn’t in love with me.”

  “I knew you would say that!” Nell jerked back in fury. “I knew it! You are so damn blind, Hattie, it makes me want to scream. What will it take before you open your eyes to the truth—does he have to fling you down in the dust and have his wicked way with you? Would that get your attention?”

  Hattie froze in shock, a surge of nightmare memories flooding her senses. Nell must have belatedly realized what she’d said, too, because looking horrified, she immediately stepped forward to pull Hattie into her arms. Hattie stood stiffly, not responding.

  “Oh, Hattie, I am so sorry,” Nell said. “I truly didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I forgot—I didn’t think. Please. I didn’t mean to make you remember that time. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Hattie shuddered once, then slowly relaxed the unnatural rigidity of her posture. “It’s all right,” she said dully and stepped out of Nell’s embrace. “Really. It just caught me unaware, that’s all.” She sat down on Nell’s bed. Nell sat beside her and they both stared at the wall for a moment, each lost in her own thoughts. Finally, Hattie turned and faced her friend.

  “You have been privy to darn near every private aspect of my life, Nell. So why haven’t I heard a word about how you’ve been feeling in return? Why have you kept it all to yourself?”

  “I don’t know.” Nell wouldn’t return her look. She continued to stare at the wall, hesitated an instant, then admitted, “Because I’ve been jealous, I guess, and the subject is so embarrassing. Because I feel as if I’m losing control of my life and I don’t know how to get it back.”

  She gave a short, mirthless laugh. “I thought I knew everything before I arrived here. I had a picture in my mind and I was convinced I knew exactly what kind of person Moses was. But I certainly wasn’t prepared for the impact of the flesh-and-blood man.” She turned to look at Hattie. “I haven’t kept this to myself from a desire to exclude you from my private life, Hattie. I’ve wanted to talk to you about it—so, so wanted that. At the same time, I resented you. I know it isn’t fair and it doesn’t make sense, but I don’t know how to explain it any clearer.”

  “Try,” Hattie whispered.

  Nell stared at her in entreaty. Sucked in a breath, then blew it out. “Okay. First off, I have been horribly confused. I could not begin to figure out how to broach the subject when I’m deep-down scared to death Moses is in love with you. I suppose, too, I didn’t want to look like a fool in your eyes.”

  “Oh, Nell, how could you possibly think you would?”

  “I don’t know, Hattie. I’m out of my depth. So many of the little things you take for granted simply throw me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like . . . your ease with men. You never have to search for things to say. You’re comfortable, especially with Moses, whereas I . . .” She let that trail off. Shook her head. “And you never seem to notice his size. How can you not notice that?”

  “I grew up with him,” Hattie replied, meeting her friend’s dark eyes. “I’m used to it.”

  “I expect that does make a difference, but I find it intimidating. I have never been around a man that large in my life. And God knows I have no experience with a man who regularly visits fallen women and has dreams the likes of which I never even dreamed existed, let alone thought I would hear about because he described them to the woman they were about. I don’t know how to act around him, and that’s the plain truth. So, I react instead.”

  She looked away, staring at the wall before looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. “It’s clear he detests me. He’s pegged me as a snobbish, know-nothing prig who thinks she’s too good to associate with a blacksmith. He mocks me and infuriates me to the point where I find myself acting exactly the way he expects me to act, and I can’t seem to stop myself. The truth is, I’m scared and tongue-tied every time I see him, but I can hardly admit that, can I? I feel so exposed around him, Hattie.”

  She turned to face her redheaded friend more directly. “Have you ever had that dream where you’re caught naked in the town square?”

  Hattie nodded. She hadn’t had that exact dream, but she’d had ones that were similar—mortifying dreams from which it was such a relief to awaken.

  “Well, that’s how I feel in Moses Marks’ company.”

  “Maybe if you explained this to him, you two could s
tart over again.”

  “I couldn’t. I simply could not. What if I summoned the nerve to admit it and he turns around and uses my fear against me? I’d be destroyed. It’s hard enough feeling the way I do when he so patently cannot abide me.” She shrugged. “I muster all the protective armor I can. I stick my nose in the air and put starch in my spine and pretend his dislike of me is beneath my notice or simply too plebian to mention. I don’t like myself very much for it. Yet I can’t seem to stop.”

  She looked up from studying her hands and met Hattie’s eyes. An unamused smile that likely looked bitterly unhappy, if it was even close to what she felt, twisted her lips. “It’s pretty ironic, isn’t it, Hattie? All those lessons I gave you, trying to teach you to think before you respond in order to prevent just this type of act-and-react situation. Turns out I can’t take my own advice.” More tears welled in Nell’s eyes.

  Hattie reached out and stroked her hand. “He is not, I repeat, not in love with me, Nell. I can’t change the fact that he’s a man and I’m a woman, and I don’t know whether I would if I could. Moses was the only friend I had growing up, and I suppose a result of having a boy for a friend is I’ve heard and experienced a number of things most girls don’t know exist. Plus, men have been less judgmental, so I’m comfortable in their company. I’ll tell you right now, having his friendship was just another black mark against me in this town, but no matter what anybody ever says, I shall always be grateful Moses was my friend. It would have been terribly lonely without him.”

  Swiveling around to a more comfortable position, she used her toes to ease off her low-cut shoes with their newfangled expandable elastic side gussets. Then she raised her head to face Nell squarely. “I do know his feelings for me are only those of one friend to another,” she said earnestly. “And that’s the honest truth. He never would’ve told me about those dreams had they still been part of his life. For a short period of time, they interfered with our friendship. But they’re gone now. And if he loves me, it’s as a sister, not a lover.”

  “Why does he hate me so, Hattie?”

  “I wish I knew. I have never seen him act this way with anyone, and I don’t understand it any better than you do. To tell the truth, I don’t think I understand men, period.” Hattie pulled her heels up on the bed, swept her skirts up to prevent an immodest display of her limbs, and hugged her knees to her chest. Resting her chin on her kneecaps, she studied the carpet’s pattern. “Big revelation,” she said with glum sarcasm. “Most of the time I don’t even understand myself.”

  Nell was surprised. “You don’t? I thought everything was finally beginning to work out for you.”

  “It is. Which is what makes the past few weeks so difficult to understand. The two years I spent in Seattle meant the world because they taught me that without a history shadowing me, I could be valued just for myself.” She smiled lopsidedly. “More than anything, I have always wanted to command the same sort of esteem right here in Mattawa.” She shrugged. “Well, for the first time in this town, I am gaining a measure of acceptance, and I like it. I have you and Moses and Aunt Augusta and my students. I think I’m actually beginning to be liked by some of their parents as well. Heck, I’m even getting along with Jake. Everything should be bully.” She watched her stockinged feet as her toes curled and straightened beneath her skirt.

  “What’s the problem, then?”

  “I don’t know, Nell! That’s just it, I don’t know what I’m fighting. Most of the time, everything is fine. So much better, in fact, than I dreamed it could be. But lately I’ve felt so . . . restless. Not during the day so much, but at night?” She gazed numbly at Nell, her confusion clear. “It’s as if something beneath my skin itches, except it’s not a real itch because when I try to scratch it, there’s no satisfaction. No matter what I try the darn itch remains just out of reach, and I have no idea how to make it go away. At first I got relief when I fell asleep. Now, it interferes with that, as well.” She blew a stray curl off her forehead. “Criminy, Nell, there are nights when it’s all I can do to simply lie still. I’ll see the moon or hear the wind in the tree outside my window and I get this overpowering urge to run away to the ranch, saddle up Belle, and just ride as fast and as hard as I can until I’m at peace again.”

  Nell absorbed her words in silence. Finally, she asked with hesitant softness, “Are you in love with Jake, Hattie?”

  “No, of course not!” At Nell’s level-eyed stare, Hattie squirmed. “I don’t know,” she qualified more honestly. “Maybe. I don’t want to be.”

  “Whyever not?”

  “Because it’s pointless. It could never go anywhere.”

  “Not even if he loved you, too?”

  Hattie’s heart threw in an extra beat, which made her defensive. “I don’t see how. Say he did love me. What then—marriage? He’d want to know why I wasn’t a virgin. All men expect virginity in their brides. You know it; I know it; every female over the age of twelve knows it. What possible explanation could I give for my lack?”

  “Maybe that would be the time for the truth.”

  “I will never tell him what Roger Lord did to me. Never.”

  “Why, though? I cannot believe Jake would—”

  “I will not tell him.”

  “But why?” Nell looked into Hattie’s eyes and was shocked at the shame reflected there. How could she be ashamed? Hattie wasn’t responsible for what Lord did. And she had certainly done everything she could to prevent it!

  “Because it made me dirty,” Hattie said in a fierce, low voice. “I will never be truly clean again, but I’ve learned to live with that. What I cannot live with is Jacob knowing. I don’t ever want to look into Jake Murdock’s eyes and see he finds me unclean. Ever.”

  “But he wouldn’t!”

  “Ever, Nell.” Hattie climbed off the bed and walked straight out the door.

  31

  TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1909

  The following day, Nell sought out Augusta. Relating her conversation with Hattie, she attempted to capture the exact shade of hopeless shame coloring Hattie’s eyes, her voice. “What can we do?”

  Augusta sat in silence for several moments. When she finally met Nell’s eyes, she looked weary. Older. “Nothing, I’m afraid. This is clearly something Hattie must work out for herself.”

  “But she hasn’t, Augusta! That’s the problem in a nutshell. For some reason, she holds herself responsible when she wasn’t the least bit so. The last thing she should feel is shame. Anger, certainly, embarrassment, perhaps, but shame? I hate this. She was forced into a situation not of her making and most emphatically not her fault.”

  “You’re absolutely right: she was that man’s victim,” Augusta agreed. “But, darling, neither you nor I suffered through her experience. Therefore, we cannot say with any degree of certainty how we would feel were we in her place. Emotions don’t always conform to what is right or wrong. They aren’t tidy. You know Hattie well enough to understand she isn’t victim material. She’s spirited, strong-willed, and quick with words and emotions. She is also too intelligent not to realize somewhere inside she couldn’t possibly have prevented that monster from doing what he did. Yet, she feels ashamed anyway. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Augusta could see by the frustration on Nell’s pretty face it did not. Slowly, Augusta tried to put her own theory into words.

  “I believe that, more than anything, this has to do with Hattie’s convoluted feelings for Jacob. He and Hattie have always shared a unique relationship. From the first day she came to live with us, she adored the ground he walked on. And I think her adoration made him feel ten feet tall. Yet, something happened between them that summer before Hattie left for school.”

  Nell moved involuntarily, and Augusta said, “Ah, I see you know what it was. Don’t squirm, dear, I, too, know the circumstances, so I shan’t be asking you to break any confidences. But if Hattie confided in
you, then you must also know the reason Jake sent her to Roger Lord’s house.”

  Nell’s face burned with embarrassment. “Yes.”

  “In that case, perhaps you can understand what I’m trying to say. She loves Jacob; she hates him. But never is she indifferent to him. Clearly, the mere thought of him learning about her ordeal is different than her knowledge that you, I, and Doc know. It’s untenable.”

  “But—” Nell hesitated, then, feeling her way, said slowly, “Doesn’t she have to face it eventually? I mean, knowing why Jake sent her away that night and seeing them together now . . . Can you truly envision them continuing through life with the same relationship they had when Hattie was a kid?”

  “No.”

  “Then—?”

  “She still has the right to handle any explanations she gives him in her own way and on a timetable acceptable to her. It may be easier than she believes it’s going to be, or it may be incredibly painful. Either way, nothing you or I say to her will ultimately make a difference. This involves Hattie and Jacob. Their emotions. They are the ones who have to work it out. In their own time, in their own way.”

  “I don’t like it,” Nell muttered.

  Augusta patted her hand. “I know, dear.” The older woman’s voice brimmed with sympathy, but the look she leveled at Nell was commanding. “And yet?”

  Nell sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans whether I like it or not. I am not the one fighting demons”—at least not ones so deep and dark—“so I also suppose I will therefore keep my opinion to myself unless Hattie asks my advice.”

  “That’s my girl,” Augusta murmured, and gave Nell’s hand another gentle pat.

  * * *

  —

  FRIDAY, APRIL 30, 1909