To Whisper Her Name (54 page)

She fingered the treasured seashell, running her thumb nail over the twenty-eight ridges, fitting her thumb into the smooth underside. This had been with Ridley through so much living — and near dying. Through the war, through Andersonville, and the year following, and through the time he’d been here, with her. Ridley couldn’t have given her anything more precious than this. Or left her with anything that would make her want him more.

But surely, he’d known that. Which, for some reason, made her hurt all the worse.

W
alking back from the lower pasture days later, Olivia looked toward the house to see Mary smiling and waving at her from the front porch. Olivia lifted a hand in response, but couldn’t mimic Mary’s enthusiasm.

Fingering the seashell as she’d done almost constantly in recent days, she slipped the shell back into her skirt pocket and dried her eyes. No matter where she went on the plantation, she saw him. As clearly as if he were standing in Seabird’s empty stall or leaning down to give Dauntless a rub or working in one of the corrals with a horse. He was everywhere. And yet, she had no idea where he was. Had he left St. Joseph yet? He’d told Uncle Bob he wasn’t going west until the end of the month. But had that changed? Had he decided to leave earlier, the way he’d done here? And where was he going once he got to the Colorado Territory? He’d mentioned Denver, but nothing more.

The same sick, lost feeling welled up in her again, and her legs felt heavy as she walked up the meadow toward the mansion. In her mind’s eye, she saw Ridley standing by the front door, depositing her trunk there as he had that first day.
Oh, Lord … I was trying so hard to do the right thing
. For Elizabeth, the Hardings, for duty and honor. But whatever this was, it didn’t feel right. She couldn’t eat. She could hardly sleep. Yet sleep was what she craved because it erased the pain for a while. Made her forget. Until she awakened, and it started all over again.

Mary gestured for her to walk faster. “Hurry!” she said in a stage whisper. “He’s here!”

Olivia’s hope renewed in a rush. “Mr. Cooper?” she whispered.

Mary frowned and looked at her funny. “No, General Meeks. He’s in the parlor. He’s been waiting for you.”

Olivia had known this moment was coming, though she wished she could run and hide from it forever. She was ready to give him her answer, but she wasn’t looking forward to it.

General Meeks stood when she entered the room. “Mrs. Aberdeen, how nice to …” His eyes narrowed with concern. “I hope you’re not unwell, ma’am.”

“Welcome, General Meeks. And no, I’m not unwell. At least, not in the way you mean. But thank you.” Olivia perched on the edge of the sofa and gestured for him to return to his chair, catching a telling creak of a floorboard out in the entrance hall.

A moment passed.

“Mrs. Aberdeen …” He offered a gracious smile. “You have honored me with your attention both in the engaging exchange of letters and in the delightful enjoyment of your company. You are a fine, lovely young woman who has so much to offer a man such as …”

Unable to listen to the kindnesses, Olivia reached for strength beyond her own and held up a hand. “General Meeks.” She attempted to soften the interruption with a look. “Forgive me, but I need to say something to you that is … most difficult. And that does not reflect in any way upon your character, your conduct, or your good name.”

The warmth in his eyes clouded, but she pushed on, her stomach giving her fair warning.

“I’ve searched, General, and there is no easy way to say this, but … I’ve firmly come to believe — even more so in recent months — that marriage should be a union between a man and woman who not only have mutual respect and admiration for each other, as we obviously do, but … who share a special affection for each other as well.” The knots in her stomach tangled further, and it was all she could do to maintain his gaze. “And while I admire you very much, my feelings do not extend beyond —”

“Mrs. Aberdeen, before you say another word …”

He came to sit beside her on the sofa, but Olivia detected the emotion in his eyes and felt guilt creeping forward.

“Please, General. I fear if I stop now, I’ll never see this through.”

“And I fear if you don’t stop now, we’ll likely end up needing to call a servant to clean the Hardings’ lovely carpet.”

Her mouth slipped open even as his smile turned sheepish.

“Mrs. Aberdeen …” He glanced toward the open door leading to the entrance hall, then back at her, then winked. “Would you do me the honor, ma’am, of accompanying me on a walk? It’s very fine out, and I believe you and I have much more in common than you might suppose.”

“You’re not too upset with me, Aunt?” Olivia leaned close, seeing the worry in Elizabeth’s eyes.

“No, dear, of course not. But … he’s in love with his nurse? That sweet little roundish woman?”

Olivia laughed, relief flooding her all over again. “The very one. He told me they were friends at first and that their love gradually grew over time. That it almost sneaked up on him, in a sense.” Which she understood only too well. Even if too late.

The bedroom door opened and Susanna entered with a tray. “Am I interruptin’, ma’ams?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not at all. But I think it’s going to take both of us to get this woman to eat.” She motioned to the breakfast tray sitting untouched on the desk. No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to get Elizabeth to eat more than a bite or two at a time.

After General Meeks had left yesterday afternoon, Olivia had slipped in to see Elizabeth, but she’d been sleeping and had slept through the night. Even now, her color was pale, and Olivia didn’t like the gauntness in her face. Perhaps if she asked Rachel, they could try another tea …

But even as she thought it, she knew better. And she felt so helpless. Just as she had when she’d watched her own mother die. Life was full of choices. But sometimes, as she was learning, there were no choices given. God, in his kind-yet-unfathomable nature, narrowed the choices down to one. And most times, it wasn’t the one she would have chosen. But mostly, Olivia had learned — the hard way — that some choices, once missed, were gone forever.

Susanna set the tray on the bed. “Well, I got me some warm chicken soup and biscuits slathered with butter. Brought my peach preserves too. That’ll give her a good temptin’.”

Elizabeth looked between them as if silently challenging their conviction. Then the concerned expression returned. “But, Livvy,
General Meeks had an obligation to you. He and the general shook hands … That’s as binding to my husband as any contract.”

“But I released General Meeks of his obligation, Aunt. As I told you at the very first, I have no desire to …” She stumbled over the words, knowing they weren’t true. Not anymore. Not since Ridley. “To be married again.”

“Hmmmph.”

Olivia and Elizabeth both looked over at Susanna, who glanced up, obviously feigning surprise and doing a very poor job of it.

“What, ma’ams? There be somethin’ wrong?”

Giving her a warning glance, Olivia continued, forcing a cheeriness to her voice she didn’t feel, aware of Susanna’s discerning gaze. “Belle Meade is my home now, Aunt. I’m going to stay right here with you. And I’m going to help you get better!” But even as she said it, tears revealed the truth. Olivia rose and pretended to smooth the bed covers.

“My dearest Livvy …”

The soft whisper was Olivia’s undoing. At Elizabeth’s urging, she returned to her side.

Elizabeth touched a curl at Olivia’s temple. “So much like your mother. Having you here has been like having her with me again. But, Livvy … It seems we’ve both been trying to take care of each other. Perhaps a little too well. After all, not everything is up to us.”

Olivia saw the look Elizabeth exchanged with Susanna.

“Livvy, dear …” Elizabeth’s lips trembled. “I’m dying. Oh …” She waved a hand. “The doctor hasn’t said anything to me, and I haven’t told the general, but … I can feel it. And I’ve known it for some time. That’s why it’s been such a wonderful adventure to watch you teaching at the freedmen’s school. It was like living a dream through you.”

Olivia looked over at Susanna, who gave her an almost imperceptible shake of her head, yet whose expression bore not a trace of surprise.

Elizabeth took her hand and squeezed it tightly. “Livvy, I have a little money put aside. I’m going to give it to you, and I want you to go somewhere — Charleston or Savannah, maybe even Richmond — and start over again. Start a new life, dear. Let me have the gift of knowing you’re doing that before I go. Just as you’ve given my Mary wings, let me help give you yours.”

Olivia shook her head. “I can’t leave you.”

A peacefulness slipped into Elizabeth’s expression. “Remember the dream, Livvy? The one I told you about?”

Olivia nodded.

“I had it again. Last night.”

Olivia’s throat tightened. “Was the door … unlocked this time?”

“No,” Elizabeth whispered. “It was open.”

June 10, 1867

O
livia turned and took a last, lingering look behind her at Belle Meade, the sun barely touching the horizon, the grounds still quiet but for the birds awakening the dawn.

“You ready, Missus Aberdeen?”

“Yes, Uncle Bob … I am.” And she was.

Over the past two days — and after Elizabeth’s repeated prodding — she’d made ready for the trip and said her good-byes. Rachel, Susanna, Betsy, and Chloe had made pan after pan of beaten biscuits yesterday. For Ridley, they said. And for their trip west. Olivia held fast to that hope.

General Harding’s reaction to her decision to leave had been less cordial. He’d been upset about General Meeks’s pending nuptials — mainly that they weren’t with her — but his frustration lessened once he learned that General Meeks still wanted to invest in their business venture. But mostly, he seemed relieved that Elizabeth finally knew her days were numbered … Olivia witnessed a resignation — an acceptance — in the man that she hadn’t seen before. She’d underestimated how much he’d dreaded telling his wife the truth.

When she’d said her final goodbye to him last night, he’d seemed almost relieved to see her go, which she understood. After all, it hadn’t been his idea for her to come to Belle Meade. She’d always known that. And yet, he had
still
allowed her to come.

She turned to the buggy, about to climb in, when she noticed a cloth bag in the seat and looked over at Uncle Bob.

“Just some things people wanted you to have.”

She picked up the bag, which had some weight to it, and accepted Uncle Bob’s help up to the seat. She couldn’t help but notice the
horses. What beautiful animals they were. All chestnut sleekness, muscle, and grace. Magnificent creatures. If she found Ridley — no,
when
she found him — she had a request for him. It was time to face a very old fear, one she knew he could help her conquer.

As Uncle Bob snapped the reins, she held on with her free hand, then purposely let go.

Uncle Bob was quiet beside her, and she knew he missed Ridley, probably as much as she did, in his own way. “That cabin’s way too quiet now,” he’d told her a couple of days ago. “Never knew how much that man talked ‘til he left. Lawd, it’s a wonder I ever got anythin’ done with him jabberin’ on the whole time.”

But she saw the fondness in his eyes and the way he kept looking back over at the cabin steps — just like she did — where Ridley used to sit.

She didn’t know if what she was doing was brave or the most foolish thing she’d ever done. The only thing she knew was that she had one last chance. And she was taking it.
Lord, let him still be there. Help me find him. And please, Lord … Let his heart toward me remain unchanged
.

Curious as to the weight in the bag, she peeked inside, and when she saw the rolling pin, she giggled and pulled it out.

Uncle Bob smiled. “Betsy’s always sayin’ … Rollin’ pin got two uses … beatin’ biscuits and beatin’ husbands!”

They both laughed.

Next, Olivia pulled out a leather pouch.
Rachel …
She opened it and breathed in the herbal scent before closing it again. She peered down into the bag and saw pieces of paper in the bottom. She took one out. Then another. Letters and notes from the servants. Her students. And even one from Mary. What treasures … She tucked them safely back inside. There’d be time enough to read them later.

She sneaked a look beside her, wondering why Uncle Bob had never attended one of her classes or asked for help in learning to read. But she figured he had his reasons and kept the question to herself.

The buggy rounded a bend in the road, and Olivia looked up. She instantly recognized the rock wall up ahead where the carriage had crashed. As they approached the exact spot, a tiny part of her almost thought that if she hoped hard enough, Ridley might be standing there waiting for her, at the place where they’d first met. But she knew better. Those kinds of endings were the stuff of stagecoach novels, not real life.

The train station was surprisingly crowded this early and by the time she purchased her ticket and stood on the platform to board, her fears wrestled against hope. She’d ridden on a train before, years earlier, but never this far and never with no one waiting for her on the other end.

“I’m frightened, Uncle Bob.”

He peered at her beneath the rim of his worn black derby. “Then you’s prob’ly right where the Lawd wants you to be, Missus Aberdeen. He always doin’ things to make me shake my head and wonder.” He smiled, his brown eyes warm and certain.

The train whistle blew in quick succession and steam billowed from the engine down the track. Olivia gripped her ticket, looking back at him.

“Thank you, Uncle Bob … For everything you’ve done for me.”

“Oh, I ain’t done nothin’, ma’am. Just carried you to the train station is all.”

She eyed him until he smiled.

“You welcome, ma’am. And I thank you too, for all you done for us. Now …” He nodded toward the porter waiting to help her board. “Go search out your new life, Missus Aberdeen. And when you find him” — he winked — “you be sure and tell him how proud Uncle Bob is of him and what he done.”

“I will,” she whispered.

Then on impulse, knowing some people wouldn’t consider it proper, she offered Bob Green her hand and was delighted when he kissed it.

Six days, four trains — two with “unforeseen” mechanical problems — and three hotels later, Olivia wandered the streets of St. Joseph, Missouri, weary, hot, and sooty. Satchel in hand and with the bustle of her new dress sagging, she never dreamed so many people would be living — seemingly thriving — this far west. Everywhere she looked men, women, and children crowded the streets along with wagons, horses, oxen, mules, and endless barrels and crates of supplies. It felt as if everyone had suddenly decided to go west.

She searched every face she passed, praying to see those blue eyes staring back at her and that wry grin she loved tipping one side of his mouth. She reached into her skirt pocket, making sure the seashell
was still there. Drawing strength from it, she willed it to act as a compass, of sorts, and lead her to him.

Uncle Bob had told her to check the liveries first. “Everybody headin’ west gotta have a wagon,” he’d said. So that’s what she’d done. Two liveries so far, with two to go, according to the train porter. But so far, no one at either place had heard the name Ridley Cooper. Still, she refused to give in, no matter how much it looked like fear and defeat might win.

She spotted the next livery at the far end of the street on the opposite side and dodged wagons, stagecoaches, and numerous animal “deposits” to reach the boardwalk, all while praying beneath her breath.
If not this one, Lord, then the next
.

Her back and shoulder muscles ached from endless hours spent on the train either being deluged with cinders and soot or waiting for the engine to be repaired. But she had to admit, even with the mishaps and inconveniences, the trip had been exhilarating. And to think she’d made the journey on her own! All by herself …

A tender yet timeless chord resonated against the thought, and Olivia slowed her steps on the boardwalk. Standing there in the midst of the hustle and the noise, she silently acknowledged the gentle yet firm reminder: Never
once
had she walked alone. Never once had God left her. He was so faithful, even when she was not. Even when she couldn’t sense his presence, he was there. The past year had shown her that.

She lifted her eyes. The name on the aging shingle above the open double doors was faded but still legible: Ashford’s Livery. The first thing she noticed upon entering was how neat and tidy the tools were hung on the wall. Everything had its place. She liked that.

A girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen stood oiling a saddle, intent on her task.

Olivia looked around for the owner but didn’t see anyone else. “Pardon me …”

The girl turned. Her smile came easily. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t hear you come in. What can I help you with? You need a horse?” She motioned toward the back. “We have some real gentle mares and a couple of fine geldings.”

Olivia couldn’t help but admire the girl’s assertiveness and spunk. Especially in one so young. “Actually, I just arrived in town, and I’m looking for someone. A Southern gentlemen.” She warmed thinking of how true that was. “A man by the name of Ridley Cooper. He might
have purchased a wagon from your establishment. He’s heading west in a few days.”

The girl shook her head. “Can’t say I know that name, ma’am.” Her expression hinted at apology. “But what you said just now pretty well accounts for almost everybody who walks through those doors.”

Realizing how true that was and feeling foolish for not having thought of it herself, Olivia felt her spirits sag. “You’re right, of course.” She looked around again. She didn’t want to slight the girl but also didn’t want to leave any stone unturned. “Is the owner of the livery here, by chance? Where I might speak with him?”

The girl nodded, not seeming the least offended. “That’d be my father. He’s in the back. But he’ll be out directly.” She went back to her polishing.

Olivia laid her satchel aside, admiring the girl’s tenacity. “You’re doing a very good job.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I can make you one too, if you want.”

Olivia looked at the saddle, then back at her. “
You
made that?”

As soon as she said it, she wished she could take it back, but the girl just grinned, nodding.

“My father taught me, ma’am. He’s real good at it.” She stepped to one side as though inviting Olivia to take a closer look.

Olivia ran a hand over the fine leather and fringe along the bottom. The detail work was superb. If General Harding saw this, he would order one for every thoroughbred at Belle Meade. “It’s beautiful.”

The girl’s smile deepened, and she stood a little taller. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m making this one for a real pretty horse in the back.”

Olivia noticed something carved into the leather flap and felt a quickening inside her. “What is this?” she whispered, pointing.

“Oh.” The girl picked up a leather tool. “I’m almost done with it. It’s a bird. Like one you’d see near the water. The man who ordered the saddle last week wanted something special. I told him I can do most anything. I drew this out for him and he liked it.”

Olivia leaned closer, looking at the bird, its wings outstretched as if soaring over the water, and the same resonance she’d felt moments earlier returned with greater urgency.
Oh, please … let it be him
.

Her pulse ticking up a notch, she looked toward the back of the livery. “Would you mind showing me this ‘real pretty’ horse? The one you’re making this for?”

“Sure.”

They started toward the back of the livery when a door opened and a man stepped through.

“McKenna, would you help me with …” He saw Olivia and stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had a patron.”

“Papa, I’m taking this lady back to see —”

“Don’t let her talk your ears off, ma’am.” The man looked at Olivia. “She’ll do it if you let her.”

He didn’t crack a smile when he said it, but his young daughter did, which told Olivia much about their relationship.

Following the girl down the line of stalls, Olivia’s hope mounted with each step, even while the taint of past disappointment cautioned against it. She breathed in the familiar smells and a pang of homesickness for Belle Meade washed over her.

McKenna stopped and gestured. And Olivia held her breath as she looked around the corner. Then broke into a grin.

Stretching for miles on the prairie west of town, hundreds of pristine white wagon canopies billowed in the afternoon breeze. And for a moment, all Olivia could do was stare, trying to take it all in. The excitement was almost tangible, the dreams waiting to be pursued hovering in the warm air over the camp, tugging at unseen reins.

Mouthwatering aromas drifted from cook fires as she walked past wagon after wagon. William Ashford had told her to search the north side of the camp, but she’d never dreamed of anything like this.