Page from a Tennessee Journal (AmazonEncore Edition)

husband like a common whore. And, now, you done give him a baby.” He tried to clear his throat of the snake’s venom that threatened his voice, but it was no use. “And it weren’t no hired man you laid with, either.” He jerked his head toward the covered bundle. “Let me see that.”
    The blunderbuss raked across his back. Annalaura swallowed hard as she tried to quiet the wailing bundle.
    “She ain’t to blame. It’s all on me. I done it.” The tears finally began their trail down his wife’s cheeks as she glanced down at the shawl.
    “She? You done give that damn white man a girl?” He wanted to double over right then and there, and let the bile finally make its way out of his mouth.
    “I knows I’m no mo’ good to you. I ain’t askin’ fo’ me or fo’ this chile, I’m askin’ fo’ Cleveland and Doug.” She kept her eyes on him like she was willing him to look her in the eye like she was a decent woman again. “I’m askin’ that you pay mind to them. You got money now. You take all of it and go back to wherever you was this last year and make a place fo’ the boys.” She stopped and swallowed.
    Annalaura tried more than once to clear her throat. When she finally had sound, John heard the hoarseness in her voice.
    “I’ll send Cleveland and Doug to you as soon as it gets quiet ’round here.” She looked at him like he was supposed to understand her words.
    “You damn right I got money now. I earned it all for us, for you and Cleveland and little Henry…” All those long, big city months at Miz Zeola’s came flooding back to him. “Right now, I wouldn’t give a bent penny to a tart like you.”
    He had lain with Sally and the colored schoolmarm, but neither of them had meant a thing to him. God knew he had done the deed for Annalaura, and not against her, so why was the Lord visiting this awful punishment upon him? If he’d been wrong to do it, still, wasn’t no need for God and Annalaura to get back at him this way. Not this way.
    “You damn right I’m gonna take Cleveland and Doug with me, but not befo’ my business here is finished.”
    Annalaura’s head started a frantic shake.
    “Them boys need you. They needs their daddy.” Her voice rose as she pulled the blanket half across her chest.
    Though he couldn’t see, he knew she was suckling that new thing in the bundle. A white man’s bastard with its mouth on his wife’s tit. The bile strangled his tongue.
    “Take them with you now if you feel like you have to.” Her voice trailed away.
    She looked up at him. Did he see a plea for mercy in those beautiful eyes?
    “Cleveland’s of some size and can help. So is Doug, but he still young. I’d like to come visit my boys sometimes if that be all right with you?” Trembling joined the pleading in her voice.
    “Come visit? You wanna look in on Doug and Cleveland? Why in hell would I let my boys see a mother who ain’t nothin’ but a worthless everyday slut? I bet this wasn’t the first white man you done slept with either, now was he?”
    The blunderbuss almost poked a hole right through his back. Annalaura’s lip crumpled, and she looked as though he had slung the rope around her neck himself. He couldn’t help it. Somebody caused this mess. And if it wasn’t Annalaura—as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, something told him it wasn’t all McNaughton—then who was it? John’s head felt ready to explode.
    “What you think you know ’bout it?” Becky’s voice dripped with menace and the blunderbuss held steady.
    “Rebecca, I ain’t gonna lay a finger on Annalaura, but I can’t say as much fo’ you.” He drew back a hand.
    Becky’s mouth set as hard as blacksmith iron. The sound shot out of the tousle of covers.
    “John. It ain’t Becky. It ain’t the baby. It’s me who done wronged you. You don’t never have to look on my face again after this night.” She swallowed hard. “Doug’s at Hettie’s. Becky will fetch him here, and the three of you can leave Lawnover this mornin’.”
    “Well, I reckon you got it all worked out. And yo’ white man will take care of Lottie and Henry as soon as you let him back in yo’ bed? He’ll buy Lottie some mo’ pretty-haired dolls? Maybe a drum for Henry?” He whipped around toward her, crashing his fist down so hard on the table stand that the water pitcher skittered to the floor and shattered into a dozen pieces.
    The surprise of his action startled Becky and she almost dropped the old