Ha'penny Jenny Read online

  2 Evie and Wallace: together at last

  Sarah aimlessly fussed about in the kitchen area, intentionally avoiding eye contact with me, lifting each stack of diapers then setting it down, rearranging the cups on the shelf, shifting the chair back against the wall.

  “Are you all set here for this evening? Do you have enough clean clouts, at least for tonight and tomorrow morning?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “Where are you going?” There was something afoot by the tone in her voice and the attitude of her movements. She hadn’t looked at me when she spoke, and that meant she was hiding something. She seemed to be investigating the room half-heartedly, but for what I didn’t know.

  She took a deep breath, then said a bit too casually, “Oh, Jody, Jenny, and I are going on a little trip.” She kept her eyes low and brushed off a bit of transparent food or soil or whatever from her apron. “Will you and Wallace be okay by yourselves?”

  “Of course, we will. He can take care of anything that I can’t. And where… Oh!” I paused a moment, realization hitting me like a door slamming me in the face, “You’ll be gone overnight, which means my husband and I will be here without any—shall we say?—chaperones.”

  Sarah blushed. She hadn’t been as sly as she thought. She shrugged and said—this time looking me in the eye, “We’ll just be in the barn so Wallace won’t have to take care of the animals this evening or in the morning. We’ll see to the feeding and such. Now, unless you yell too loudly, we won’t disturb you, all right?”

  “Well…” I said and giggled, “Don’t come if Wallace yells too loudly either.” Then I turned around and did a bit of blushing myself.

  Ӂ

  Later that evening…

  “Come on, Jenny,” Jody hollered, “we’re gonna have a little party tonight, jest the three of us—ye, yer Grannie, and me.”

  “But what about Mommy and Daddy? Don’t they want to come, too?”

  “Well, we’re gonna leave them alone tonight, aye? Sometimes a mommy and da jest need to be by themselves. Besides, I have a game I want to show ye.”

  “But who will help Mommy take care of the babies? She needs me, she told me so,” Jenny argued, obviously hurt at not being able to stay the evening with her new siblings. “And don’t Mommy and Daddy want to play the game, too?”

  Sarah looked over at Jody and decided he needed a little help with the precocious little interrogator. She squatted down to Jenny’s level and brushed the stray hair out of her eyes. “Well, they…um…have other things to do and really don’t need our help for that. Besides, your daddy was helping Mommy with the babies before they got you. I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten how to change a clout or burp a baby. Now, I have your quilt. Let’s build a bed for you right over here on the clean straw. Grandpa and I will be right next to you in case you get scared.”

  “I don’t get scared,” Jenny declared strongly, and then remembered the fright at the mill last week. “Well, not much,” she admitted. She looked around and saw that Grannie had already spread her quilt on the straw. “You mean we’re going to be out here all night?”

  “Aye, we’ll have lots to do. I dinna think ye’ll find it irksome.” Jody opened out his fist. “See what I got fer ye.”

  Jenny peered into his huge hand. “Can I touch it?”

  “Go aheid; its yers.” He used the tip of his index finger to flip the bone-handled penknife onto its other side. “It’s time ye had one of yer own. I’ll show ye how to use it for work and…” He drew out the anticipation of the rest of his explanation by opening the folding knife and balancing it on back of his hand. “I’ll show ye how to play a game, jest in case ye happen to have a spare minute or two between tendin’ to yon bairns, aye?”

  He quickly flipped his hand over and caught the penknife flat onto his palm. “But I think we’d best be tryin’ the first few rounds with the blade shut. Jest until ye get the feel of the weight.”

  “Can I make arrows with it like the Indians do?” she asked, bouncing on her toes in anticipation.

  “Weel, I think yer mommy would rather ye start by carvin’ knittin’ needles and what she calls crochet hooks. They’re better tools fer a lass yer age to have.”

  Jenny’s response of, “Hmph!” was a guttural blend of ‘why?’ and ‘I don’t think so!’

  Her face changed moods several times while she studied the small-bladed instrument. “Well, I guess I can do that, but I’m gonna notch the ends of my knittin’ needles and put a feather in ‘em anyhow. Then maybe when I’m bigger, like next week, you can help me build a bow. I’ll shoot bows and arrows at the bad Indians and keep them away for good!” she said, chest out in pride.

  “Weel, the only Indians I’ve seen around here are the good ones, so I hope ye dinna plan on shootin’ anyone. And mind ye, ye shoot the arrows, not the bows. Maybe we can build ye a target to practice yer aim so ye can knock some of those nasty crows out of the garden next month when the corn starts gettin’ ripe. They always seem to be the best judges of when it’s time fer the harvestin’.”

  3 Wedding Night

  My wee three were all fed, burped, bathed, and put down to sleep. They were almost six weeks old and now looked like babies, not preemies. Their little arms and legs had filled out quickly, and their cheeks were pleasingly plump. The boys were still bigger than Wren, but she was closing the size gap quickly.

  They were still too young to sleep through the night, but they stayed quiet for longer periods now. I didn’t have a watch or clock, but my chest could tell time. My breasts filled at a constant rate, and if they weren’t emptied at a regular interval, then I’d get uncomfortable. I knew from somewhere—probably from when Leah was a baby—that my body would adjust to more feedings during the day and fewer at night. I doubted I could last eight hours straight without nursing at least one baby, but I’d be willing to try for a four or five hour stretch of uninterrupted sleep.

  “Do you need a hand with anything?” Wallace asked, as he put away the dishtowel. He had done the dishes after dinner, which left me free to give the babies their baths. They weren’t ‘dirty,’ but a thorough rinsing freshened them up, cooled them down, and tired them out.

  “No, thank you,” I said, then quickly changed my mind. “On second thought, wait. I’ll let you help me undress, so I can take a little sponge bath.”

  It wasn’t the most romantic overture, but I didn’t have much time alone with him until the next feedings. I didn’t want to spend what precious little time we had alone being coy.

  Wallace gulped, then grinned so wide, I thought his bottom lip would disappear altogether. He approached me slowly but decidedly, as if I was the chocolate cake he had been denied his whole life. Whoa, wait… I guess I really was like that—a real dessert, a forbidden treat—now his.

  I twisted and lifted the hair off of my neck and shoulders with one hand, using the other to work the button loose on the neck of his shirt. He hadn’t asked, but I was going to do a little exposing, too. “Can I see you without your shirt?” I asked.

  He crossed his arms and pulled the shirt off over his head. I inhaled deeply. At last. He was mine. And we were alone. Well, alone except for our three youngest, but they were asleep.

  He put his hand on each side of my gown. “May I?”

  I nodded, looked up, and then gave him the same lip-disappearing smile he had given me.

  He gently opened out the dress and slid it down over my shoulders, carefully lifting the left side away from my beige-colored 21st century adhesive bandage.

  “It’s okay; it doesn’t hurt much. As long as I’m careful, we can do just about anything.” I glanced up and saw that he wasn’t looking at the bandaging, but my plump and perky nipples, dark brown and hard with excitement.

  He caught my eye and an immediate blush rose on his cheeks. “They don’t look the same without a bairn’s head in front of them,” he said softly.

  “Hey, they’re yours, too…
just like the rest of me.”

  “Aye? Oh, aye!” His hands rose to my cheeks. “Mrs. Wallace Pomeroy-Hart, my beautiful, wise, and wonderful wife, Evie,” he bent down to share the first of—hopefully—many wedding night kisses.

  After a very thorough smooch, he whispered, “Evie. Is that short for another name?”

  “Um, no.” I grimaced. I didn’t want to spoil the mood, but felt I needed to answer the question. “It’s the name Ian gave me. I didn’t know my name—or even who I was—when I found and rescued him, so he decided to call me Evie. I like the name just fine, though. It feels,” I shrugged my good shoulder, “comfortable.”

  “Hmm, I gave you the name Pomeroy-Hart when we married, but can I make a suggestion?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in hope.

  “Yeah, sure,” I answered, unsure of where this was going.

  “Evangeline. I like the name Evangeline. We would still call you Evie, but you would be my Evangeline.”

  I felt my eyes light up. “Wow…yes…I mean, sure. I like that name! Cool. That’s a gift no one can take away from me, and I’ll have it as long as I live. No, wait—I’ll have it even after I’m dead! At least, for as long as anyone remembers me.” I was flattered with the gift of the new name and giddy at the prospect of immortality.

  “Well, we’ll just have to write stories so the life and times of Evangeline Pomeroy-Hart will be passed down through the ages—to our heirs, and to anyone else who’s interested in life in a young America. You did say America will still be around in 200 years, right?”

  “You know I did, silly. And I like the idea of a journal. I’m sure I can figure a way to get it handed down to Leah, so she can find out all about you and her siblings and the rest of her family here. I felt so bad having to leave her, but,” I exhaled sharply, “I made my decision and I’m glad of it. Now, how about we seal—or would that be dedicate?—this new name with a little friction.”

  Wallace looked puzzled, so I helped him out with a one-armed grab around his neck, pulling him down for a long, wet kiss. “I think I’d be more comfortable lying down,” I suggested, and ran my hand down the side of his neck to between his pectorals.

  “Oh…OH!” he exclaimed when he realized what I meant. He put his hand on mine and led me to our—well, really Jody’s and Sarah’s—bed.

  “I’ve been saving it as a surprise, but,” he pursed his lips and made the decision to tell me now, “I’m making a bed for us. We may not have our own home yet, but we’ll have a bed for it when we do.”

  “Well, this will do for tonight.” I snuggled into his chest and breathed in his male essence. We had only been close, physically close, a couple of times, but had never been skin to skin before. “Would you touch me, I mean, touch me all over? I’ve been aching for your hands… Oh, yeah…” I gasped as he began, then relaxed, and let him explore.

  Wallace started at my face, air-glided his hand above my still tender shoulder, then settled his hand on my waist. He let it rest there for a moment, and used his thumb to gently stroke my belly. He brought his fingers together again, then brought them down my hips to the outside of my thighs.

  “You don’t have to be bashful. My body is yours, too,” I said, and guided his cool fingers back over to my belly. “It’s still kind of mushy from being pregnant, but it’ll tighten up again.”

  I continued the guided tour to my intimate parts. “Right now, I’m kind of moist there because I’m so excited. It makes…um...everything go in easier,” I said with a bit of embarrassment. I didn’t want to be a little miss know-it-all, but I did want him to know some of the nuances that he probably had never heard about. Sarah had let it slip that Jody had a ‘talk’ with him. I appreciated the heads-up so I wasn’t too bossy in my instructions.

  Wallace took control from there, his bashfulness overcome by a healthy combination of curiosity and excitement.

  “Mmm,” I moaned as my knees parted to let him explore further.

  “You’re so soft down there,” he said, “like a padded pillow.”

  I giggled, “Yeah, a furry padded pillow. I guess that’s so we don’t bruise our pelvic bones when we…um…”

  I didn’t finish with words, but decided it was time to do some of my own petting and pawing. I wrapped my hand around the shaft of his very ready cock and pulled down gently on the skin. He gasped and let out a gentle moan. “Just making sure you healed right,” I said coyly.

  I really was checking. I was afraid that he may have lost too much foreskin after he had been slashed in the groin area and I had to perform a little impromptu field circumcision after Pyle’s Massacre last spring. I had heard horror stories about men who had been circumcised and had too much foreskin removed. It actually caused the men pain to have an erection. By the purring that Wallace was emitting, though, that wasn’t the case with him.

  Wallace still had his hand on my pillow, cradling it as if it was his prized possession. He let his thumb slip down a bit, and ever so gently touched and then rubbed just the right place. I gasped at the intense but very pleasurable sensation. I hadn’t been touched there by anyone—including me—for an incredibly long time. I looked at him, swallowing hard with the excitement he had caused, and saw that he was chuckling.

  “How…how…how did you know about that spot?” I stuttered.

  “Oh, I got a few pointers. That one was easy to find. Now, should we see if I can find another?” He pulled his hand away and started to get up on one elbow, his other arm crossing over me to assume the missionary position.

  “Uh huh,” I nodded. It looked like Wallace was going to take to the more intimate duties of being a husband just fine.

  4 Jenny and the mumblety peg

  Jenny lay on her quilt, flat on her back, pretending to be asleep. She rolled over toward Grannie and Grandpa Jody and listened. They were finally asleep. At least, they weren’t whispering or giggling or telling each other to shush anymore.

  Maybe if she was real quiet, they wouldn’t wake up and she could go back where she belonged—to the house with Mommy and Daddy and the babies.

  She had had a nice time—well, actually it was a whole heap of fun—spending the evening with Grandpa and learning how to play mumblety peg. But she missed her babies. And no matter what Grannie said, she was sure that Mommy needed her help. When the babies woke up at night with bad dreams, she was the one who rubbed their backs until they fell asleep again. It was only when they were really hungry, or had messed their clouts, or had a big burp that they were really awake. Even then, she could do everything except feed them. She needed to be there to help, so Mommy wouldn’t have to work so hard and her shoulder could get better.

  Jenny lifted her head and looked to make sure Grannie and Grandpa were really asleep. She couldn’t see their faces, but they were very still. Only their backs were moving, in and out slowly with their breathing. Now it was safe to go back to her own bed. She tried to take her quilt, but the straw beneath it shifted when she tugged on it. She’d have to sleep without it tonight. That would be all right, though, because she only needed to sleep on top of it. She could do without it for one night. After all, she was a big girl now.

  The moon was bright and lit the path to the house. She wasn’t afraid of anything—not now, anyhow. All the bad men were gone, and the bears and pumas didn’t come near the house, at least, not lately. Jenny looked around quickly, suddenly afraid of mountain lions, bad men, and bears, oh my!

  “Eek! What are you doing up, Grandpa Jody?” she asked, twitching with embarrassment at being caught sneaking away.

  “I was fixin’ to ask ye the same thing. Yer supposed to be sleepin’ in the barn with yer Grannie and me tonight.”

  Jody stood in front of her, arms across his chest like a Roman centurion, waiting for her answer.

  “Um…um,” she mumbled, twitching nervously. She couldn’t tell him that she was sure Mommy needed her help. He had already told her at least ten times that Mommy and Daddy were fine and could do without her for one
night.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing that she was uneasy, dancing from one foot to the other. “Do ye need to use the privy again?”

  Jenny nodded frantically, then bent forward and squeezed her knees together in an exaggerated mime of urinary urgency.

  “Weel, git to it. Come back to the barn as soon as yer finished. And no sneakin’ back to the house, d’ye hear?”

  “Yes, sir, Grandpa Jody,” she said, then ran to the privy. She quickly shut the door behind her and climbed onto the seat to look through the little crescent-moon hole. She needed to make sure Grandpa was returning to the barn and wouldn’t see her go back to Mommy and Daddy.

  Shoot. He was still there. It looked like he was going to wait for her. Jenny decided it was time to for another tactic. “Ooh,” she moaned. “Ooh! Uh, I think I’ll be in here for a while, Grandpa Jody. I think I ate too many of those boiled peanuts. Ooh…” Jenny moaned and groaned dramatically for almost five minutes, or so it seemed.

  “Do ye think ye can make it back to the barn by yerself? That is, when yer finished?”

  Jody wasn’t sure whether she really had a bellyache or not. She had eaten quite a few of the boiled peanuts, but then again, she might be trying to sneak back to the house. He’d let her be, but would listen for her. He had never told her that she shuffled her feet and made a distinctive noise when she walked. It was a good way to keep track of where she was, and—by her long, foot-dragged tracks—where she had been.

  “Uh, I’ll be okay. But don’t wait up for me. Ooh…” Jenny put her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. She had fooled Grandpa Jody!

  Jody walked back to the barn, stomping his feet to make sure she knew he was walking away. It looked like he was going to be on sentry duty until she decided to come out.