Romancing Olive (16 page)

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Authors: Holly Bush

BOOK: Romancing Olive
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“My Ma and Pa never owned nothin’?”

“That’s right, Mary,” Olive answered.

“They was squatters?”

“They were squatters?” Olive asked. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I’m sure there was some arrangement worked out between my father and yours. I can’t say more. There is no one left to ask.”

Mary tossed around the information, Olive could see. The girl laid down her fork and looked at her brother.

“We ain’t livin’ in our old house?” she asked.

Olive watched John look at his sister and he looked away blankly from the others. Olive hurried to reassure him. “No, no. We’re going to ask Mr. Steele today if he would have time to begin on a small house closer to the lane. We will be only a short distance from Peg and Luke and Mark.”

The children looked at each other and evaluated. Peg looked worried and Luke stared at his sister then at John’s turned head. The boy shrugged and asked, “Can we come see you? Can we finish the book?”

Olive laughed. “Of course. You can come anytime and we will make time for Charles Dickens.”

Luke reached for the bacon and Peg said, “Is there anymore eggs?”

“Are there any more eggs, Peg and yes there are. Would you like some?” the girl nodded and Olive eyed the children as they had seemingly received the news, processed it and hurried on to something else.

“I’m done,” Luke said. “Come on John, lets see if Pa’s got the wagon hitched. Peg followed after stuffing her mouth and Olive and Mary were left alone at the table.

“What do you think, Mary?”

The girl shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Yes it matters. Very much. We’re a family and I want you to be happy,” Olive replied.

“I guess it’ll be alright.” The girl stood and carried the dirty dishes to the sink. “How are just the three of us gonna’ work a farm?”

“I’m not sure but I believe the best thing to do is find some sharecroppers to work the land until we’re able to hire someone to do it. And then when John is old enough he may want to work the land. Or your husband,” Olive said.

“I ain’t ever getting married,” Mary replied.

Mary’s experience with men would have certainly led her to that conclusion, Olive thought. “Never say never, Mary. I would have never dreamed I’d be living here with Mr. Butler or be building a house in Spencer. Circumstances can change, people and their ideas can change, Mary. I know I have.”

“You were daggone sure we was all moving back to Philadelphia when you first come, came here.” Mary didn’t face Olive but continued quietly, “Are ya sure you want us, I mean John and me. I don’t want him getting settled somewheres and then you up and decide ya don’t like us.”

Olive stood and walked to Mary. She turned the girl by the shoulders and looked at her solemnly. “I will never not want you or John. We’re a family. We’re going to make our way together.”

Mary bit her lip and looked away. “My ma used to say all her and Pa’s troubles started when she had kids.”

Olive swallowed at the bitter hurt in Mary’s voice. “Then I, Mary, am exactly the opposite of your mother. My life didn’t begin until you and John.”

Mary looked up at Olive. “Goin’ ta be hard work with just us.”

“We’ll figure something out, Mary. Between the two of us I know we’ll come up with a solution.”

“Shouldn’t we ask Jacob? I mean he knows all about farming and such,” Mary asked.

“No, Mary, Mr. Butler is busy with his own problems. We’ll figure ours out on our own.” The girl shrugged and Olive tied her bonnet for church.

Jacob hitched the wagon and Olive would not look at him. Church was raucous trying to keep all five children quiet and in their seats. Luella Grimm stared openly at Olive and Olive smiled and nodded to the woman in return. Luella turned quickly away, red-faced. Mark coughed and fussed and Olive worried he was feverish, but he settled down as Olive rubbed his back and cooed in his ear. The child never looked directly at Olive but he made a soft gurgling sound when she held him and she imagined he was content in her arms. She touched his face gently and he darted his eyes rhythmically, as if rocking himself to sleep. The brilliant blue eyes closed slowly and Olive tried to concentrate on the last few minutes of the sermon.

The children were excited, with company coming and the sun shining brilliantly. Olive taught the children a song and they sang and clapped the whole ride. The Steele children, Bess and Jack Jr. were nine and seven years old respectively and had played with Jacob’s children on many occasions. Mary and Olive had started beef stew before church and Olive had bought fresh bread for the dinner.

When Jack and Beth and the children arrived the noise level increased ten-fold. Olive and Beth decided to feed the children first and then let them run as they were clamoring to then hopefully the adults could eat in peace. Olive taught Mary and Bess hopscotch and the two girls seemed to get along fine. Mary didn’t say much, Olive noticed, but Bess was a quiet child as well and the two of them satisfied themselves, watching the young ones and getting to know one another. When Bess asked her mother if she and Mary could walk to the creek, Beth nodded and Olive was glad. Maybe a friend her own age would help Mary and Bess seemed suited to her. Jack and Jacob had Luke, John and Jack Junior in the barn doing what, the two women didn’t know, but the house was quiet except for Mark’s gurgling.

“Jacob said you’re staying on in Spencer,” Beth said.

Olive rocked Mark and looked from the infant to the woman across the table from her. “Yes, I am. I’m going to ask Jack to build me a small house on my brother’s, well, my property.”

“I’m glad you’re staying Olive. What a big change, though. What brought it on?” Beth asked as she drank her coffee.

Olive tilted her head. “I think the idea had been creeping up on me actually. Then a letter came from my best friend Theda. I received it the day the sheriff brought my sewing machine and I don’t know if I can really explain it other than it made clear how sheltered and well, dull my life had been.”

“Dull?” Beth asked. “How could life in a big city be dull? Aren’t there shops and theatres and things to do all the time? I know life on a farm gets pretty boring sometimes.”

Olive lay Mark down in his crib and looked out the window. “Maybe dull isn’t the right word.” She turned back to Beth and said, “My friend Theda and I lived so rigidly conscious of what others thought that we never did anything out of the ordinary. We attended church functions and I worked at the library but other than that we just waited.”

Beth tilted her head. “Waited?”

Olive smiled. “Yes, waited. Waited till an elderly neighbor died so we could send a meal. Waited till our parents aged so we could care for them. Waited for the next correct and dutiful thing to do and we did it and waited again. We would have never dreamed anyone lived his or her life any other way. Especially spinsters.”

“Were you and Theda waiting for husbands as well?” Beth asked softly.

Olive turned her head to the shadows cutting across the floor. “When we were young, yes, I suppose. But if anyone did come to call, we found a thousand reasons they were unsuitable.” Olive lifted her head to Beth and continued, “Not the right family or work or called a minute too early or too late. Brought chocolates on the second outing rather than the third. We congratulated ourselves when they stopped calling and now, looking back, I think we were just scared.”

“Scared of what?” Beth asked.

Olive laughed. “Of everything. What if we had to move to a new house or city? What if we had to make our lives with another person? All those what if’s.”

The two women sat quietly together at the table.

“It must have been scary for you to come out here for John and Mary,” Beth said finally.

“Theda and I talked for weeks about this trip of mine. And we thought I’d be rescuing little miniatures of myself and James and taking them home to Philadelphia and continue to raise them as I assumed they had been raised so far.”

“Your brother’s, well, life, must have come as quite a shock,” Beth said.

“A shock? I still can barely comprehend it. And I’m angry. Angry at James and Sophie. Angry with my father. But most of all angry with myself. I won’t make the same mistakes again. I’ll decide the children’s future and mine from now on.”

Beth tilted her head. “Why are you angry with your father?”

Olive told Beth what Mr. Holmes had told her about James’s property. “I think my father knew all along that James was wild. That’s why he bought the property in the first place rather than lending James the money to get started.”

“So the land is yours?” Beth asked.

“Yes,” Olive said triumphantly. “Mine to make into a home, in a new town.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Petrified,” Olive said and chuckled. “But I won’t be waiting for something to happen to someone else. I’ll be making things happen on my own, for me and John and Mary.”

“Jacob seemed very happy, well as happy as Jacob gets these days, that you were staying in Spencer.”

“Humph,” Olive said. “He implied I had made untoward advances on the sheriff. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see me go.”

“What?” Beth said. “I don’t believe it.”

Olive told Beth of Jacob’s accusations and their conversation the day Olive went to see Mr. Holmes at the bank. She sat back on her chair, eyes downward. “I was terribly hurt that day. I had begun to admire and like Mr. Butler, but I knew then I should hold my regard.”

Beth smiled. “Olive, don’t you see? Jacob’s jealous.”

“Really Beth. Mr. Butler has no interest in me. I’m ten years his senior. I’m nothing like his first wife, not attractive.” Beth giggled and covered her mouth. “Really, Beth,” Olive said. “I don’t cook or bake or can or do any of the things that would interest a man in a woman out here on a farm.”

“I don’t usually talk about these things. Unless of course I’m with Florence, but I know something Jacob may be interested in you for. The same thing men are interested in women for everywhere, city or farm.”

Olive looked at the woman across the table and asked, “What, what about me could possibly interest a man or make them jealous?” Olive could not believe what was coming out of her mouth, but the subject of Jacob vexed her so greatly, she threw propriety to the wind.

“Well, he may want to, you know, he might be itchy,” Beth said, eyes wide, lips tight.

Rarely did Olive misspeak, speak out of turn, or say something she meant to keep private. But on Beth’s last word, her inner thoughts rolled off of her tongue before she could stop them. “I know that’s not true. He flew away from me as if I had two heads.”

Beth’s head drew back as Olive’s eyes rounded and her face colored. Just then the door opened and Jacob and Jack stepped in.

“What have you two been gabbing about all day?” Jack asked.

“Nothing,” Olive said quickly.

“Where are the children?” Beth asked the men but did not take her eye from Olive’s face.

“Playing in the haystacks. Can we eat?” Jack asked.

“Jack, really, you shouldn’t ask. It’s not polite,” Beth said.

“No, no that’s fine,” Olive said and nearly knocked her chair over, trying to get away from the table.

Beth came to the stove beside her and whispered. “If Jacob is jealous and is sorry he upset you, then I’ll bet any amount of money, he treats you real special and sweet for awhile.”

Olive stole a look over her shoulder to find the men looking at her sewing machine. “Why do you say that?” she asked.

Beth sliced bread and whispered under her breath. “’Cause they’re too stupid to know their own feelings and they get mad instead of glad. You watch, Olive.”

Olive nodded and gave Beth a half smile. The poor girl has no sense of reasoning or deduction, Olive thought. She turned when Jacob walked over to the stove and picked up the Dutch oven.

“Here, let me get that, Olive,” he said and placed the stew in the center of the table.

Olive stared at him. “Thank you,” she said.

Jacob nodded and said the blessing.

“Did you show Beth the sewing machine, Olive?” Jack asked.

“Why no, were so busy getting dinner ready, we didn’t have time,” Olive replied.

“It certainly smells delicious,” Jacob said.

“It sure does at that, Jacob,” Jack said and lifted his plate for Olive to serve.

“I want to show you how the machine works, Beth. You would be welcome to use it then,” Olive said as she passed plates.

Jacob accepted his dish and looked up to Olive. “I’ve been wanting to see myself how it works. Maybe you can show Beth and I after dinner.”

Olive’s head cocked and the ladle of stew stopped midway to Beth’s plate. She looked at Beth and the woman looked up to Olive’s slack-jawed face. Olive finished serving and seated herself. Jacob certainly was being solicitous. But Beth was surely wrong. Could he be jealous? Olive dismissed the thought and proceeded to eat.

“Jack, I am interested in having a small house built on James’ property. Mr. Butler said you occasionally do that kind of work. Would you have the time and would you be interested?” Olive asked.

“Absolutely,” Jack replied. “My planting will be done in a week and I can always use the work. What did you have in mind?”

Olive’s hands came together at her chin as she smiled and described to Jack Steele, the home she envisioned.

“Three bedrooms, a sitting room and a kitchen. With a big porch. I can do that. Going to be a bit costly, though, with the price of lumber the way it is,” Jack said.

“Can you give me an estimate?” Olive asked.

“Surely,” Jack said. “Let me do a drawing and show you. Then I’ll get some prices from the mill. I’ll be able to be pretty close that way.”

Olive felt as if doors were opening to her. She had property, someone to build her a house and she would be seeing a drawing to change or add to her dream. She smiled fully at Jack. “Thank you so much.”

* * *

Jacob watched the exchange between Olive and Jack. Jacob had never met a woman who made these kinds of decisions on her own. His Margaret didn’t and Beth certainly didn’t. “I’ll look over the plans for you when Jack is done with them,” he said.

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