Romancing Olive (22 page)

The sheriff’s face colored.

Olive watched and listened to the undercurrent between the two men. She could not stop the foolish notion of herself as the damsel as two knights battled for her hand. This was a new feeling for Olive and she conceded it felt wonderful.

“We’ll have to see at the end of the week. Theda and I may want to stay home.”

“You just let me know, Olive,” the sheriff said. “I sure hope you decide to come and I’d like you to save me a dance if you do.”

Olive smiled at the sheriff and turned to find Jacob watching her.

“She may not have too many dances to spare, sheriff. A single woman as pretty as her,” he said.

Olive’s shoulders dropped and her stomach flopped on Jacob’s words. Her eyelashes fluttered and she could have only described her own words as tittering. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

“Don’t you have to be getting back to town, sheriff?” Jacob asked.

The sheriff eyed Jacob and slowly stood from his chair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Can’t be lollygagging around, like some.”

Jacob sat still in his chair as the sheriff nodded at Theda and tipped his hat to Olive. He went to the door and turned. “Just let me know about Saturday, Olive.”

She smiled and thanked him for his help with the furniture. Jacob nodded stiffly to Theda and Olive followed him onto the porch. “Thank you, Jacob.”

A slow smile crept to his lips as he asked, “Will you tell me what your friend has to say about two-stepping?”

Olive grinned. “Ladies never, and certainly not Theda and I, acknowledge publicly any understanding of two-stepping.”

Jacob’s eyes heated and bored into Olive. “I told you, I’d be happy to show you. If you’re ever curious.”

Their conversation, to Olive’s surprise, had turned quickly from casual bantering to a smoldering exchange of understanding. She blushed and looked away. “Really, Jacob. That’s not something you say to someone other than a wife.”

“You’re right, Olive. I’ll tell you though, I haven’t belly laughed like I did today with anyone other than Margaret. Maybe that makes us, well, I don’t know, more than just friends. What do you think?”

“I consider you a friend.”

“Good. Cause I sure would be wondering why the notion of you dancing with the sheriff puts me in a foul mood, if we weren’t at least friends.” Jacob gathered Mark in his arms and called to Luke and Peg.

Olive watched the children smile and wave as Jacob drove them away. She entered her house in a fine mood and found Theda staring at her strangely.

“You remind me of Hester Hawkins,” Theda whispered.

Olive’s eyes rounded as she thought of the woman back home. Hester, in Theda and Olive’s opinions, threw herself at every unmarried man within a hundred miles. Olive wondered now if her judgments were too harsh. “Hardly, Theda,” she said and carried glasses to the sink.

“Really, Olive, I thought there for a moment you were going to swoon or drop a hanky to see who would pick it up,” Theda said quietly, looking at Mary.

“I have to say I enjoyed the attention,” Olive said.

“Is that why you were making eyes at Jacob on the porch just now?” Mary asked.

Olive’s eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped. “Mary, were you spying on us?”

Mary smirked. “I just went to the door to see what Miss Patterson was looking at.”

“I was trying to see where the other children were, that’s all,” Theda answered casually.

“So you both were eavesdropping,” Olive gasped.

“Couldn’t hear much,” Mary added and looked from one woman to the other.

“Mary, why don’t you go check on John,” Olive said. The girl stood slowly and inched her way out of the room. Olive watched her tarry and waited patiently until the screen door slammed. “Theda, I can hardly believe you would listen to my conversation.”

Theda’s eyes narrowed. “Blame me if you will but as your closest friend I felt it was my obligation to see exactly how far this relationship has gone. Remember Alfred Smith?”

“Alfred Smith?” Olive said. “What does Alfred Smith have to do with this?”

“He was fast,” Theda whispered. “You knew that as well as I did and yet you still went to the ice cream parlor with him.”

“We were fourteen years old,” Olive shouted.

Theda’s eyes rose and she primly looked at Olive. “You needed my advice then and you may need it now.”

“I’m an adult. What I do with Jacob Butler can hardly be compared to a sallow faced boy I knew twenty years ago.”

“So tell me, Olive, what do you do with Jacob Butler?” Theda asked.

Olive’s face colored and her head tilted. “Nothing really.”

Theda leaned in close and checked right and left for listeners. “Has he touched you in any place you consider private.”

Olive knew what Theda meant. It was how their mother’s warned them of boys a million lifetimes ago. “He kissed me. I nearly fainted the first time.”

“The first time, uh huh, there have been other occasions,” Theda said and sat back in her chair, drumming her fingers on the kitchen table.

Olive felt her face redden and she was mentally transported back to her bedroom as her mother questioned her about Albert Smith. “The first time he kissed me was while he was apologizing for rubbing on my backside while I was sleeping.”

Theda’s eyes widened. “He had his hand on your . . .backside?”

Olive’s mouth pulled to one side. “Well, not his hand exactly.”

Theda’s mouth dropped. She cleared her throat and stumbled, “What exactly was rubbing on your backside?”

Olive could not answer and sat and stared at her friend.

“I see,” Theda said wide eyed.

Olive knew for a fact that Theda did not see. “There was a storm after the last dance. By the time we got home we were all soaked and I had left the window open above the girl’s and my bed. The roof came off the barn over he and the boy’s bed, and it was wet as well. The children were frightened by the storm and we all slept in front of the fireplace. When I woke up, Jacob’s arm was around my waist and he was asleep with his stomach up against my back.”

“And?” Theda persisted.

Olive’s eyes flew to the ceiling as she recalled the most intimate moment of her life. “Well, when I woke up, he was rubbing his hips against my back side.”

“Oh,” Theda said and sat quietly for a moment. “Were you in your bedclothes?”

“Yes. We were sleeping,” Olive said impatiently.

“Oh.”

The two women sat silently and Olive continued. “The next day, I tried to excuse his behavior and continue on since I was living there with him and he ended up kissing me.”

“Oh.” Theda said. “Was it, the kiss I mean, was it pleasurable?”

She is as curious as I, Olive thought. “Like nothing that ever happened to me before.” She leaned forward to Theda and whispered, “He put his tongue in my mouth.”

Theda’s eyes widened and a look of revulsion crossed her face. “His tongue?”

Olive fiddled with her hands and looked up to her friend. “Yes. And I thought I’d faint dead away.”

“Really?” Theda said in wonder.

Olive nodded. “Then I had some whiskey with him one night when I couldn’t sleep and he kissed me again.”

“You were drinking whiskey?” Theda said as her hand came to her throat.

“Just a sip,” Olive conceded.

“Well, well, well,” Theda said and nodded and stared.

Chapter Nine

Although she would not admit it, Olive believed Mary went to bed early that evening just to be in her own room. The girl had folded her belongings, neatly in the dresser, changed into her new white nightgown and sat cross-legged on the bed.

Olive peaked her head in the door and asked, “May I come in?”

Mary nodded and sat still looking around the room.

“We’ll have to get some pictures or do some cross-stitch for in here. The walls seem awfully bare,” Olive said and began to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Careful,” Mary said. “You were cooking in them, those clothes. I don’t want anything getting my spread dirty. You did say it was mine, right?”

“It’s yours all right. I’ll be more careful next time,” Olive said with a grin.

“Do you think if I gathered wild flowers and dried them they’d look good on the walls?”

“I think that would be perfect. I think whatever you want will be just fine, Mary. What do you think of my friend, Miss Patterson?” Olive asked.

Mary shrugged. “Seems pulled tighter than a noose, I’d say.”

“Mary. That’s no way to talk.”

“She’s alright, I guess. She reminds me of you when you first came here,” Mary said and looked up at Olive from under her brows.

Olive’s eyes closed and she harrumphed. “I was thinking the very same thing. A few short months has certainly brought some changes for me.”

Mary’s eyes rolled in her head. “That’s for sure.”

“I suspect bigger changes than I’d thought. Some big changes for you as well. We’ve both changed Mary,” Olive said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Mary conceded with a shrug.

Olive leaned down and kissed the girl’s hair. “Goodnight, Mary.”

Mary scooted back and ducked under the blankets. “I might just lay here for awhile. Not go to sleep right away,” she said and rolled to her side.

Olive smiled and replied, “That’s fine.” As Olive reached for the door she heard Mary turn over and looked back at the girl.

“I like it here, Aunt Olive.”

“I’m glad,” Olive said and felt tears brim at the back of her eyes. She closed the door softly, and felt oddly as if this was her first real night as a mother. Settling a daughter to bed, talking about the day, and looking forward to the future.

Theda had spread a sheet on the davenport and was sitting at the end by the kerosene lamp, embroidering. Olive sat down in the rocker and the two women sat quietly, Mary in her room and John asleep in his bed.

“Are you sure you don’t mind sleeping out here?” Olive asked.

“Not at all. I wouldn’t dream of moving one of you out of your bed on your first night in your new house,” Theda replied.

John’s door opened then and the sleepy boy stood in the doorway looking at Olive. “What’s the matter, John?” Olive asked. He turned his head, looking away and Olive said, “Why don’t you come sit on my lap for awhile?”

John crept over to Olive and she pulled him into her arms. She reached for a quilt thrown over the back of the rocker and spread it over John and her legs. The boy snuggled tight and Olive rocked and kissed his head.

“It’s been a big day, John,” Theda said and smiled. “Lots of new things to get used to.”

He stared and held tight to Olive’s arms. The groan from the wooden rocker, as Olive’s foot pushed the floor in rhythm, was the only sound in the room. Soon his eyes fluttered shut and Olive felt him relax against her. She looked up to Theda and smiled contently.

“It seems as though mothering comes naturally to you, Olive,” Theda said softly.

Olive smiled. “I don’t know about that. But I will say I can’t remember when I’ve ever felt as useful or needed.”

“Do you miss Jacob’s children?”

“I was just thinking that,” Olive said and kissed John’s hair again. “You don’t know quite when or how children find a way into your heart, but they do.”

Olive stood slowly, holding John against her and turned to Theda. “Good night,” she said.

Olive lay John down in her bed and pulled the covers back from under him. She crawled in beside him, relaxed and breathed deeply. Fresh wood, the scent of lemon furniture polish and little boy filled her nose. Olive could not remember a time when she felt this happy and at peace. As if all of her life she had been waiting, filing away memories and knowledge, preparing for this purpose. Waiting for the day, through tragedy and boredom, to begin her own life in a new home, with her own family. She said her prayers silently, eyes closed, as she had done since she was a little girl, thanking God for the long crooked path that brought her to this bed, under this roof.

* * *

Morning came brightly and swiftly to Olive and she awoke as John began to stir and Tiger stretched lazily in the sunlight. She heard someone in the kitchen and rose, pulling on her much missed green flannel robe.  Olive was so glad to have all her things from back home. It made her new home feel right. Like a bride wearing something old and something new, her treasured family belongings brought sentiment and history to a new beginning.

“Good morning,” Theda said. “I’ve put water on for tea.”

“Good morning. You’re up and dressed early,” Olive said and yawned.

“I didn’t want to bother anyone,” Theda said as she measured tealeaves into the pot.

Olive sat contentedly while Theda heated biscuits from the last night’s meal and poured tea into Olive’s mother’s china teapot. Olive lifted the gold-rimmed cup and admired the delicate painted roses. “We didn’t always realize how lucky we were, did we, Theda?”

Theda sipped her tea. “We were lucky, weren’t we?”

“Always enough to eat, never worried about anything more important than what dress we would wear to church,” Olive said and pulled her robe tight around her.

“We took for granted that everyone went to school and had clothes and people to care for them,” Theda said wistfully.

“Mary didn’t want me to sit on the wedding ring quilt, for fear I would dirty it,” Olive said and chuckled.

“From the sounds of it, that’s the finest thing that girl ever owned,” Theda said and frowned.

“James did a poor job of providing for his family, among other things. Mary told me she didn’t go to school because it was too far to walk home. I guess James wouldn’t leave his card game at the end of the school day,” Olive said and felt a surge of anger.

“I just cannot believe James,” Theda said and stared hard at Olive. “Do you think that wife of his was responsible for his poor behavior?”

Olive stared back and didn’t blink. “No, Theda. I don’t think anyone made James lose sight of right and wrong. I think he did that all on his own.”

Theda’s head tilted and she looked down at her hands. “Something must have happened.”

“Yes. Something happened all right. Mother and Father spoiled him and gave him everything he ever wanted without working for anything.” Olive looked away then and said quietly, “I suppose I was guilty as well. Me being older didn’t help. I did all his chores so those beautiful blue eyes of his wouldn’t tear up.”