Harry on the Prairie

Chapter 37

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays! Whatever holiday you embrace, I embrace it with you. ❤️

TWITTER: @styles_orama

*****

Mama, I found someone
Like you said would come along
He's a sight, so unlike
Any man I've known

I was afraid to let him in
'Cause I'm not the trustin' kind
But now I'm convinced that he's heaven sent
And must be out of his mind.

Mama, he's crazy, crazy over me
And in my life is where he says
He always wants to be
I've never been so in love
He beats all I've ever seen
Mama, he's crazy, he's crazy over me
        —The Judds

*****

FRANKIE:

"I'll ask you once more, you ornery woman." He takes a step forward, then drops to his knee, taking my hand in a smoother motion that I'd have ever thought him capable. "Frankie Tomlinson, will you marry me?"

*****

HARRY:

My knee's startin' to get a little sore from kneelin' for what feels like ages, and Frankie's gettin' fidgety. A single tear appears and slides down her cheek, and I'm back on my feet, wipin' it away.

"Frankie?"

Nothin'.

Ooh boy. I thought womenfolk wanted to get married. They'd always be excited and buzzin' 'round like bees plannin' shit, and here I'd done gone and asked Frankie twice, and both times it set her off cryin' enough tears to fill the Grand Canyon.

I pull her into my chest and wrap my arms 'round her real tight. "Are you still upset about havin' to pee in the bucket?"

This really sets off her wailin'. I pull back a bit, bring my hand to her chin, and tilt her face up to mine. Her eyes are closed. I smooth the teardrops from her freckled cheeks with my fingertips, placin' gentle kisses on her eyelids, her forehead, her nose.

"You're just gonna hafta deal with the bucket, Frankie - 'cause I'll be damned if you're goin' out there— "

"It's not the bucket, Harry." She sobs, draggin' her long-sleeve covered forearm across her nose, snottin' up her own shirt this time instead of mine.

"Sh, shh, shhhh," I shush into her ear and stroke her hair. "I can't help if you don't talk to me, Frankie."

Her eyes scrunch tight and though she's tryin' to spit out her words as quick as possible, shortness of breath from cryin' forces her to pause on occasion and pant for fresh air. "I need to tell you something, Harry. It wouldn't be right to marry you without tellin', but I'm scared after I do  . . . that you won't want me anymore." Frankie swallows a gulp of air and hiccups twice.

"We've talked about this before, Frankie.  There is nothin' out there that could make me not want you. You believe me, right?"

She rubs her right eye with her fist in such a way that brings to mind an image of what she musta looked like as a little girl, her "unh-huh" no louder than a breath.

While seein' her beautiful face fraught with tears is fixin' to make a crack in my heart, I can't shake the fact that there's somethin' familiar 'bout it.

"Look," I grab a bucket I and place a folded cloth in the bottom. "We're stuck down here for the duration of this here storm, and we're goin' to get to the bottom of this so I can marry you and that's all there is to it. No ifs, ands, or buts."