Unforsaken (20 page)

"She's been trying to run the place by herself for a week. Whatever the problem is, you had no call to run out on her and leave her to do everything alone at the busiest time of the year."

"Is that what she told you? That I ran out on her?” Rodger asked with an unmistakable sneer. “After all I've done for her, that's the thanks I get."

Matt dismissed Rodger's sniveling account, certain he was blowing everything out of proportion. The last thing he wanted was for Olivia to return to the mill while the two thugs were still out there somewhere.

"I'm sure whatever the squabble was about, you two can work things out,” Matt said. “She won't be able to run the place for some time, and she'll need you to take the reins."

Rodger looked startled for a moment and then tittered with undisguised amusement. “Take the reins? Me?"

He laughed again. “And at your insistence. Isn't that rich?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The last thing Olivia would want is for me to take the reins,” he said by way of explanation. “Why else would she be marrying you?"

Rodger gasped, as if stunned by his own words. “Oh, dear, I let the cat out of the bag, didn't I?"

Before he could laugh again at his own humor, Matt seized him by the collar and lifted him off his feet. “You'd better explain that remark."

"See here, t-take your hands off me,” Rodger stammered. “Why don't you ask Olivia?"

Matt shoved backward. “I'm asking you."

Rodger swallowed and straightened his collar. “Olivia resented me for knowing more about the business than she did."

"You cowardly bastard. You meant to burn the place down?"

"Good God, no.” Rodger was unnerved by Matt's conclusion. “I had nothing to do with this, but I'm sure Olivia will accuse me. She's absolutely paranoid."

"What do you mean?"

"She's convinced I'm trying to take the business away from her,” he explained.

"Are you?"

"Of course not. I've told her so over and over, but she won't listen. It's just because she's not married. I would never do that, even though I
am
her nearest male kin ... for now."

"That's why she's marrying me?"

"Oh, I'm sure there are other reasons, as well, and you certainly don't stand to lose anything. You'll be her insurance, you might say.” He paused. “I'm sure she intended to tell you about it ... sooner or later."

Chapter Sixteen

"What changed your mind about marrying me?"

Olivia knew just by the tone of his voice what had happened. “The same reason you want to marry me. I need you."

"You need a husband,” he corrected. “And any man would do. I just happened to be convenient."

She huddled deeper inside her dressing gown, wishing she could shield herself from the inevitable confrontation.

"That's how little you think of me? That I would marry any man that came along?"

"Rather than lose your precious mill, I think you would."

How could she have been so stupid as to breathe a word about her upcoming marriage to Rodger?

"That's what this has all been about, isn't it? You've used Sarah to get to me."

"You know that's a lie."

"Is it? You never so much as looked at her until you needed a way to get to me. That explains all the toys, the clothes. God damn you, Olivia, how could you do that?"

She glanced out the window and caught sight of Sarah playing on the lawn. “Do you find it so impossible to believe that she would love me otherwise?"

"What difference does it make?” He turned his back on her, and for a moment she thought he was leaving. “You can't just make someone love you and then toss them aside when they're of no use to you."

"Why not? You did."

He froze in midstride, his fingers shoved though sun-beaten hair, and he slowly turned to face her. She gasped slightly at the rage in his eyes and it was all she could do not to look away.

When he spoke, his voice was eerily calm. “I've always regretted the promise I made to your brother. Until now, that is. He told me you wouldn't be happy without money."

"Don't blame Ryan for your sins!” She rose from the chaise. “You didn't waste time finding someone else. Did Ryan make you promise to do that, as well?"

"I told you what happened.” His eyes raked her, filled with contempt. “I only hope I don't find myself in the same trap again."

"You should have thought of that a little sooner. In both cases."

His eyes narrowed in anger, and she was barely able not to flinch. He was beyond anger, and she looked away, unable to stand the cold fury in his eyes. When the door slammed behind him, she sank down on the chair, trying not to panic.

She managed to keep her composure, even as she watched him cross the lawn, scoop Sarah into his arms and carry her away from the house. When they were finally out of sight, she realized that losing the gin was the least of her problems.

Olivia sat on the edge of her bed and listened to the rain pelt against the windowpanes. It was one of those sudden storms that came in the late afternoon, promising cooler weather. But afterwards the air would be even heavier with humidity and steam would rise from the sodden grass. Sometimes the sun would keep right on shining while the rain fell, and old folks would say that meant the devil was beating his wife.

The room was stifling, and she was tempted to open the window and let the storm inside with her. Instead, she slumped back on the pillows piled high against the headboard and listened as thunder rumbled far in the distance. She hoped the storm would pass; Sarah was so frightened of—

There was nothing to worry about, she told herself. Matthew knew just how afraid Sarah was of storms, and he would—

She buried her face in one of the fat down pillows, and her chest constricted tightly with the effort not to cry. How would she ever survive this? Sarah hadn't been gone two hours and already she missed the child so much that her bones ached with want. Tears were useless and would only serve to make her feel worse, not better.

She tried to comfort herself by remembering the good times. Isn't that what one was always advised to do? Don't grieve for what is lost but be thankful for the good times? The past few months had been the happiest of her life, and the pleasant memories ran together. Picnics on the lawn, lessons about baby chicks and kittens, tea parties on the porch. How could she separate—

The tea set!

Olivia bolted from the bed and down the stairs, heedless of the fact that she was clad only in her thin shift. How could she have been so careless? Maddy looked up from the beans she was snapping, but Olivia ignored her startled expression and whatever she tried to say.

From the back porch she could see that the little table had toppled over and the forgotten dishes lay scattered on the lawn. Olivia gasped and hurried down the steps. She was drenched immediately and her bare feet nearly slipped out from under her on the soggy grass, but she managed to reach the tea set just before one tiny chair was tossed end over end.

The teapot itself lay smashed on the ground, but most of the cups and saucers were intact. Dropping to her knees, she began gathering the delicate pieces. She reached for the miniature cream pitcher that lay on its side, hoping it had somehow survived.

She drew back and realized she'd cut her hand on the jagged edge. Blood beaded across her palm to mingle with the rain and run pink over her arm.

"No,” she cried out in anguish, but her voice was lost in the storm. The tea set was all she had left of Sarah, and now it was shattered. She sank facedown on the wet grass and sobbed.

"Olivia! Come back into the house!"

She glanced up to see Eula sprinting across the grass accompanied by Maddy, who struggled to keep an umbrella over both their heads. Olivia raised her bleeding palm to ward off her aunt's concern, but Eula grasped her shoulders and dragged her to her feet.

"You know better than such foolishness,” Maddy sputtered, trying to fit the three of them under the umbrella. “You'll catch your death out here!"

Eula turned Olivia toward the house and helped her up the steps and into the kitchen. Maddy draped a towel around her shoulders, but Olivia couldn't stop shaking despite the welcome warmth.

Eula began toweling her wet hair and drying her face. “Don't do this to yourself, darling."

Olivia's teeth were chattering so that she could barely manage a reply. “She loved that tea set and now it's ruined because I left it outside."

"Oh, well, you can buy her another one."

"It won't be the same,” she whispered. Sarah had loved
that
tea set, and a new one wouldn't hold memories of the special times they had shared. A new tea set would simply remain in the box, unwanted and unloved, like Olivia herself.

Olivia took the towel from her aunt and buried her face in the damp cloth, unable to hold the tears back any longer. Eula took Olivia in her arms and rocked her back and forth, but there was no comfort anyone could give her.

Knowing Matthew did not love her hurt enough, but knowing that Sarah still did was worse.

"Don't cry,” Eula whispered. “Don't cry, dear."

"Oh, Aunt Eula, he took my baby."

Olivia rubbed her eyes and stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom. She felt slightly disoriented, unaccustomed to sleeping in the daytime, and wondered vaguely if she had slept through the night. The thought was quickly dismissed, as her bedroom windows faced west and the sun was in clear view. She was oddly disappointed to realize she had escaped only for a few hours and still faced another long, lonely and possibly sleepless night.

Not that she could blame that on a late-afternoon nap. Most nights she would fall into a fitful sleep only to awaken later, unable to go back to sleep at all, and the prospect of just getting out of bed the next morning was absolutely overwhelming.

At first she feigned weakness and exhaustion to fend off the stream of “concerned” callers inquiring about her well-being when all they really wanted was to learn some hidden, insidious detail not yet revealed. Eula chided her for rebuffing their visits, but she stubbornly refused to see anyone, retreating to her bedroom at the first sound of footsteps on the front walk.

"Nancy Potter is crushed that you won't see her,” Eula would say. Or, “That nice Mr. Sullivan has called twice."

Today she hadn't even bothered to make the effort to go downstairs, remaining in bed despite Maddy's dire predictions that her hair would fall out from lying against the pillow too long.

"You just go on and lay abed all day and see what happens.” Maddy also refused to bring a tray up to her when Aunt Eula made the suggestion. “I will not nurse her misery."

Olivia's misery didn't need nursing. It was stronger than she was.

A soft tapping at the door drew her attention, and Eula slipped inside the room. The false mask of cheerfulness had vanished and her forehead was knitted with concern.

Olivia set up in bed. “What is it?"

"Ada is here to see you."

"Ada?"

"She claims she's been worried sick about you and finally came to see for herself that you're all right.” Eula's mouth thinned. “I think she wants something from you."

Olivia only shrugged.

"You want me to send her home, tell her you're not feeling well?"

"No, no, don't do that.” She sat up in bed and reached for her dressing gown. “She'll just keep coming back until I talk with her."

A few minutes later, Eula reentered the room with Ada on her heels.

"Olivia, you poor thing.” Ada clasped Olivia's hands and squeezed them tightly. “Rodger and I have been worried sick about you."

As a rule, Olivia felt no compunction to engage in meaningless small talk, and she was even less inclined to do so today. “What do you want, Ada?"

Ada released her hands and managed a smile. “I suppose I had that coming."

Obviously unoffended, she eased herself into the chair at Olivia's bedside. “I'm glad there's no pretense between us. It will make what I came to say much easier."

Olivia's eyes narrowed.

"The plain truth is, you can't run your business without Rodger."

"I can get along just fine without someone trying to take over my affairs as if I were an imbecile."

"Olivia, I don't say this to many people, but Rodger doesn't have much backbone.” She didn't bother pausing for anyone to deny it. “If anyone is to blame, I suppose it's me. I resented the fact that Rodger wasn't made a partner in the mill. I wanted the security, for him to be more than just another worker on the payroll. I nagged and nagged him to insist that you make him a partner, but he didn't have the nerve to ask you. So he tried to find another way."

"Maybe having me dead would be simpler?"

Ada didn't look the least bit chagrined. “Olivia, you know Rodger would never have the nerve to go through with something that drastic."

"What he did was no better than stealing,” Eula pointed out. “And from his own kin."

"If it meant so much to him, he should have asked me."

"And what if you'd said no?” Ada challenged. “A man needs his pride, Olivia."

Olivia winced at the irony of Ada's words. Yes, a man needed his pride, preferring to steal rather than beg, and live alone rather than marry a woman who might use him for her own gain.

At last, she shrugged. “Tell Rodger he can start back right away."

"Olivia!” Eula gasped.

Ada didn't wait for Eula's protests. “Thank you, Olivia, thank you so much. You won't be sorry."

She only nodded and sank back against her pillow as the woman dashed out of the room. Olivia could feel her aunt staring at her even before she said, “I can't imagine what makes you think you can trust him after all that's happened."

"I don't care. I just don't want to be burdened with that place, and Rodger does know how to run the operations."

"Yes, and you won't have much to be burdened with for long."

"Does it really matter?"

After a week, Eula insisted that Olivia go to the gin and clear the air with Rodger. If she was going to have him working in the gin, there had to be an understanding between them. No more scheming or talk of taking over. If he wanted to be a partner, he would have to prove himself.