West Virginia

1879

The day of Mrs. Wallace's funeral was one of the worst days of my life, I swear it. It didn't start out that way, though. That morning I woke up to a bright, sunny day, a stark contrast to the mood of my friends and family. Victoria and I helped each other dress in our most somber clothes, with black ribbons in our hair. I spared myself a glance in the mirror on our way out, my orangey-red hair was the only flash of color on me, aside from my locket. Victoria and I had to wear our hats the entire day, which was, of course miserable, as the sun was already rising high in the sky before we set out for the church cemetery. The ride there was unbearable, not a word was spoken between my ma, my pa, my sister and me. I knew it was customary for mourners to travel in silence, but I missed the casual banter between my ma and my pa, and chattering the ride away with my sister. It must have been around noon when we finally arrived, my papa lifted me down from our wagon to go join the other women in my family.

Preacher Garrett nodded at my pa from where he stood at the entrance to the cemetery behind the church. A light sniffle beside me told me my mama was having a difficult time containing her grief. I blinked in surprise. I had always known my mama and Widow Wallace were good friends, but I had never expected her to cry at the elderly woman's funeral. My aunt Jenny pulled me under her arm, Abi caught in her other, and kissed my forehead. Abi smiled softly at me and I blinked in greeting, allowing the corners of my mouth to twitch up only slightly. I rested my head on my aunts shoulder as she arranged my hair over one shoulder, tucking any stray strands away from my face and under my bonnet. Lord but it was hot under there. When our aunt was done fussing with us Abi looped her arm through mine and tugged me to the side of the group of our female kin, the men having assembled on the other side of the gate.

"How're you doin' Abi?" I asked her, patting her hand absentmindedly. I felt my cousin shrug against my shoulder.

"Alright, I s'pose." She replied. I opened my mouth to comment on how pretty her pale hair looked against her dark dress when Preacher Garret announced that it was time to begin. My family shuffled into the cemetery where Widow Wallace lay in her coffin. I prayed that she would rest in peace with the angels as Preacher Garrett began a sermon. The adult women stood behind the 'of age' girls and young'uns. Sarah Staton positioning herself behind us. I knew I should have paid more attention to what Preacher Garrett was saying, but I just couldn't. My eyes kept wandering over to Tom and Will. My cousin stood at his friend's side, tall and straight as a pin, his blonde hair combed back. And Will, I noticed, kept letting his eyes wander over to Abi, who either did not notice the attention or did not care. I was not sure which. Once Tom's eyes met mine and I tilted my head and gave him a woeful smile, my lashes brushing against my eyebrows. He brightened a bit at this, but only a bit, and smiled shakily back at me. I lost my nerve then and looked away, choosing to direct my attention to my cousin. I leaned toward her ear, we were now of the same height.

"Will's lookin' at you, Abi." I whispered.

After a long moment, Abi whispered back, her voice betraying her.

"No he ain't."

I grinned, Lord but Abi could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes, which was exactly why she and Will made such a good pair in my opinion.

"Yes he sure is, missy." I retorted, pinching her arm. I saw Abi glance over at our cousin, only to look away when she saw that he was, indeed, looking at her.

"No he ain't!" She insisted. A sharp poke in between my shoulder blades got my attention. Abi's jump told me she had gotten the same thing.

"Pay attention!" Ms. Staton hissed quietly before returning her attention to Preacher Garrett once more.

As Preacher Garrett went on and on about how good Widow Wallace was, earning several 'Amens', as he did so, I found myself getting more and more tired. I yawned, trying to stifle it at the last minute. My uncle Anderson caught it though. I expected him to be upset, but he merely grinned softly, nodding at me. My daddy fixed me with a less-than-business-like stern look, but I didn't care after I saw Tom's reaction. He stared at me wide-eyed for a minute, then at my apologetic look he smiled and gave me his puppy-dog eyes. I felt my face heating up and looked away again. What was wrong with me?

After Tom's mother had been laid to rest, everyone gathered at my uncle Anse's house, since it was the biggest. But it was still not big enough for everybody. Eventually I clawed my way out of the overcrowded maze that was my kin's house and made my way to the front porch where my younger cousins played. I sat down and crossed my arms, not in the mood to play with my cousins, even though they badgered me for the next ten minutes about it. They were playing catch, a boring game in a group of that many children. I did my best to ignore their pleas until the ball clonked me one on the side of the head, knocking my hat off of my head and into the dirt. I did my best not to glare at my cousins, but I gave up and glared anyway. They all took a step back, some more than others. I picked up the ball and chucked it has hard as I could, which sent them all scurrying in pursuit of it.

It was then that I made my escape to the back porch, away from the amused face of my aunt Jenny. I stormed around the side of the cabin, plunking myself down on the end of it. What I did not realize was that in doing so I had nearly sat on someone.

"Whoa there, Honey-bee!" Tom exclaimed, catching sight of the look on my face. "What's gotcha in such a mood?"

I turned and glared at him, about to make a nasty remark, when I saw his slumped over shoulders, elbows perched on his knees. I bit my lip and looked down at my shoes. There was nothing else to do. I shrugged, fiddling with my hat before jamming it back on my head, doing my best not to tear up. Tom's arm snaked around my shoulders and I fear I shook a little bit from holding back my tears. True I was not related to Mrs. Wallace, but that did not make her passing any easier. I quickly regained my composure and sat up straight, hands folded in my lap.

"Nothin's got me in a mood." I replied, fussing with my hat and hair. "What on God's green earth made you think I was in a mood?" My voice shook slightly and I could tell that Tom noticed.

"Yer not foolin' me, Honey Jane Hatfield." He informed me, nudging my knee with his. Over the years that simple gesture of knee-to-knee contact had become our secret code. It meant anything and everything under God's bright sun. Today, it meant, 'I know somethin's wrong, so tell me 'bout it.'

I sighed, letting my shoulders slump in defeat.

"I guess-." I began, then stopped, swallowing the hard lump in my throat. "I guess, I dunno. I just miss yer mama."

That was when the tears started. Lord but it was embarrassing, crying in front of my friend, or was he still just a friend? I didn't know anymore. Tom pulled me under the shelter of his arm until I stopped crying. He didn't say anything, just let me cry. Eventually I pulled away, wiping at my face in frustration. Tom grabbed my wrist.

"Don't be so darned rough wit yerself, Honey-bee." He said softly, brushing my face dry with a hand that was far more gentle than mine had been. He took of my hat and set it down on my other side, brushing my hair out of my face.

"You know, cryin' don't look very pretty on you." He remarked, tapping me on the arm to get my attention. I shook my head, trying to clear it. Here I was crying like a baby when it was Tom's mama who had died, not mine.

"I'm sorry, Tom." I sniffled, dabbing at my eyes with my handkerchief. "I know it's gotta be even worse fer you right now. I'm sorry." I grabbed my hat and stood up, "I should go."

Tom's hand on my wrist made me stop. I looked back at him.

"Now just where do you think yer runnin' off to?" He asked, pulling me back and sitting me down next to him. "You bein' here cryin' over my mama is better'n me jus' sittin' here without you."

I grinned and ducked my head, noticing that he still had hold on my wrist.

"Can I have my paw back, Mr. Wallace?" I asked pointedly, giving him a lofty look. Tom smirked at me.

"Nope." He replied, pulling me back under his arm. I laid my head on his shoulder as we sat there in silence.

"It's gonna be lonesome now." Tom spoke up, taking my hand in his.

"Whaddya mean?" I asked, still leaning on his shoulder. I could feel him chuckle.

"I mean it's gonna be lonesome without a woman yellin' at me not to track mud in or hollerin' for me to close the door and not slam it."

I laughed, looking up at Tom.

"Did yer mama do that?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Tom nodded.

"But she ain't 'round no more so…" He let the silence hang there. "I guess what I'm sayin' is that you can take over her job if you want to."

I froze, my eyes widening till I feared they would pop. I sat back slowly so I could stare Tom straight in the eye. He just sat there looking at me, innocent as could be. I raised one eyebrow.

"And what would you call that?" I asked, leaning on one arm. Tom propped his chin on one hand, grinning like an idiot.

"What, woman?"

I poked him sharply in the shoulder.

"What you jus' asked me." I clarified, jamming my finger into his arm with each word. Tom made a pretend face and swatted gently at my hands.

"Woman, bein' abusive to yer husband is not a good way to start a marriage."

"Ha!" I pointed my finger in his face. "So what would you call that?" I demanded, smiling in triumph. Tom grinned stupidly at me.

"A proposal, Miss Honey-bee Honey Jane Hatfield. Would ya like me to tell ya what a proposal is?"

I whacked him in the arm, accidentally letting a giggle out as I did so. Tom beamed at my blush.

"Do I need to tell ya what you should answer me with?" He whispered, poking me in my shoulder far more gently than I had him. I looped my arm through his and leaned against him, looking him straight in the eye.

"Naw, I think I can figure that out fer myself." I replied.

"Then whaddya say?"

I grinned evilly.

"No."

Tom leaned back, squinting one eye at me.

"You hornswoggling me woman?" He asked playfully. I smiled softly and nodded, laying my head on his shoulder once more. After a moment of silence Tom piped up again.

"Well I have to say this brightened my day considerable."

I laughed and snuggled closer, the sun was setting and a light chill was in the summer air. Suddenly the back door swung open wide, I jumped at the sudden movement. My uncle Jim stood there, staringa t us thoughtfully. My pulse quickened. Was my uncle Jim going to call my pa out here?

"What th' hell do'you two think yer doin'?" He demanded, shutting the door behind him a little more forceful than necessary.

I gulped.

"Whaddya mean uncle Jim?" I asked, removing my arm from Tom's. My uncle leaned over the edge of the porch and spat before leaning against the house.

"I mean, whaddya d'you think yer doin' jus' sittin' there?" He explained gruffly, shifting his weight to his other foot. "Shouldn't ya be inside talkin' to yer pa, Honey-bee? He might not 'ppreciate you two marryin' without his knowledge."

My uncle Jim winked at me. I blinked in surprise. My uncle Jim was a hard, gruff man, so for him to be winkin' out of the blue took a minute to register that he was teasing.

Tom chuckled and stood up, pulling me with him. I allowed myself to be lead inside my kin's cabin, anxious about what my pa might say.