To Whisper Her Name

by Tamera Alexander

  She frowned.

  “But considering Uncle Bob’s personal recommendation and having observed your work myself in recent weeks, as well as seeing how well the men respect you, I’m willing to make an exception.”

  “Thank you, General. Uncle Bob’s been very generous with his knowledge and with his understanding of the workings here at Belle Meade.”

  Olivia stared, disbelieving, as the conversation continued without her, as it had before. Ridley Cooper was being promoted? To a foreman? She scarcely restrained an exasperated sigh. Apparently his intention of staying at Belle Meade for only a short period of time had changed, and the appeal of the Colorado Territory had faded by comparison. Which was no wonder. She hadn’t understood his desire to go to begin with. But still …

  Why did everything come so easily for men? And for Ridley Cooper, in particular, it seemed. Opportunities abounded. Here. Out west. Choices were his for the taking. And meanwhile, for her …

  The ledger grew heavy in her lap, and she shifted in her seat, consoling herself with the reminder that she did have this new opportunity. Two dollars per week. And she was determined to make the best of it, despite these two men.

  Finally, the general rose from his chair, as did Mr. Cooper. She followed suit, eager to leave, but Ridley Cooper blocked her exit by shaking hands with the general.

  “Mr. Cooper, I believe we’re in agreement on everything. I’ll get a standard contract for the position to you this afternoon. Look it over tonight, then return it to me with your signature in the morning.”

  “I’ll do that.” Mr. Cooper moved toward the door.

  “Oh,” the general said. “Mrs. Aberdeen?”

  Surprised he remembered she was still there, Olivia turned. “Yes, General?”

  “If you’ll plan a time to meet with Mr. Cooper, I’m certain he’ll be happy to orient you with where the supplies are kept in the stables. He’ll also show you where the tack and —”

  “The stables?” Olivia searched his expression. “I don’t understand.” She laid a hand on the ledger atop the desk. “I’ll be keeping the ledger for ordering supplies.”

  “Yes.” General Harding’s tone hinted less at kindness and more at condescension. “And just where do you think the supplies for the horses and other animals are kept, Mrs. Aberdeen? In the kitchen pantry?” He laughed.

  But she didn’t. And neither did Mr. Cooper, she noticed. It felt as though a curtain she hadn’t known was there had been ripped away.

  Parched, she tugged at her high collar. “I simply didn’t …” The room had grown warm and prickles of perspiration dotted her spine. “I didn’t realize I would be working around … horses.” Even saying the word took effort.

  Again, General Harding laughed. “I declare, Mrs. Aberdeen, you do know you’re living on a stud farm, don’t you?”

  Olivia forced a laugh, if only to expel a tiny measure of embarrassment — and dread — burning a hole inside her. She could feel Mr. Cooper looking at her and made it a point not to look back. It only made the situation worse knowing he knew she was afraid of those animals. And made it all the more difficult to pretend to the general that she wasn’t.

  General Harding opened the office door, and Mr. Cooper exited first.

  “Also, Mrs. Aberdeen, regarding those monthly reports …”

  Olivia paused inside the doorway, wondering how on earth she was going to do this. Just thinking about being around those animals made her stomach twist in knots.

  “Submit them to Mr. Cooper first, if you would. Then he can review the figures before passing the reports along to me.”

  She swallowed, her mouth tasting like metal. First the horses, and now working alongside Ridley Cooper? She could already imagine him teasing her about her fear. Like Charles had done. “S-surely, General” — she broke out in a cold sweat — “Mr. Cooper will be busy enough. I-I’m certain I can manage on my own.”

  General Harding looked down at her. “I appreciate your confidence, Mrs. Aberdeen. But it’s only right that he review the documents first, since you’ll be reporting to him.”

  Mr. Cooper paused on the porch steps. “She’s reporting to me, sir?”

  Witnessing his surprise — learning this was news to him as well — helped counterbalance her own. But only a little. Just the other day, she’d told him she could determine the course of her own life, make her own decisions … And now this. She couldn’t even submit a report without his approval.

  The irony was beyond rich. And she was certain he’d lap it up.

  “Yes, that’s right, Mr. Cooper. Mrs. Aberdeen will report to you.” The general stepped out onto the porch, smugness creeping into his smile. “Unless you think that aspect of your promotion will prove too challenging.”

  “No, sir, not at all,” he answered quickly. “I’m certain Mrs. Aberdeen and I will get along just fine.”

  Sensing the general awaiting her response as well, Olivia summoned the practiced smile she knew by heart. To her astonishment, however, it wouldn’t come. She managed a nod. “Yes, General. I’m certain we’ll get along just fine.”

  Chapter

  NINETEEN

  Mrs. Aberdeen! Wait!” Not about to let the opportunity to speak with her get away, Ridley marveled at how swiftly she covered ground in that bell-shaped skirt. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to teach the woman how to shinny up and down a lattice after all.

  “Mrs. Aberdeen …” He caught up with her. “Do you have a few minutes to speak with me, ma’am?”

  A dark eyebrow arched. “I see we’re back to Mrs. Aberdeen. It’s not Olivia anymore?”

  Although privately appreciating her sharp wit, he refused to be drawn off course. “Do you have time to speak with me, please?”

  “That depends, Mr. Cooper.” Never breaking stride, she tossed him a look that could have split stone. “Are you asking that as my superior? Or as an acquaintance?”

  “That depends.” He smiled. “Which answer will get you to slow down?”

  “Neither at the moment.”

  She veered off to the right and headed for the front porch, obviously an evasive maneuver. He adjusted accordingly.

  “Two minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

  “I really can’t right now. I need to see to Mrs. Harding.”

  She gathered her skirt and started up the front steps. Ridley took them by twos, beating her to the top. The door to the house was open, the day being warm, and she tried to sidestep him. But he anticipated the move and cut her off.

  “I’m a persistent man, Mrs. Aberdeen. Avoiding me isn’t going to make me go away. Besides, looks like we’ll be working together. You’re going to have to see me eventually.”

  Briefly closing her eyes, she sighed. “So it would seem,” she said beneath her breath.

  He gestured to the line of rocking chairs. “Would you be more comfortable sitting?”

  “I thought you said this would only take two minutes.”

  His chivalry rusty from disuse, Ridley opted for the more straightforward — and familiar — approach. “I just wanted to tell you, ma’am, that having you report to me wasn’t my idea. I was as surprised by it as you were. I hope you realize that.”

  “I do. But I hope you realize, Mr. Cooper, that either way, I don’t like it.”

  He nodded, feeling the opposite, but knowing better than to admit it. “Fair enough. But I’m going to do my best to make it work. And I hope you will too. Doing well here at Belle Meade means a great deal to me. And … to my future.” He tried to phrase it in such a way that she would understand he meant his plans to go west. However delayed those plans were for the time being.

  She met his gaze. “Yes, well, I have a future too, Mr. Cooper. And my succeeding in this position means a great deal to me as well. For many reasons.”

  He could imagine what some of those reasons were. But he would’ve liked to have known more. Maybe in time she’d open up to him.

  “So,” he said. If she’d b
een a man, he would’ve offered his hand to shake on the deal. As it was, all he could do was stare at her. “We’ve reached a truce then? I help you, and you’ll help me?”

  She nodded succinctly, then stood a mite taller. “But one thing I would appreciate agreement on before we go any further …”

  Seeing the reprisal of anxiety in her expression, similar to what he’d seen back in the general’s office, he could guess what she was going to say next.

  “No one else here knows about my …” She peered around him to the open front door. “About how I don’t care for … you know,” she whispered, and he nodded. “And I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep that information to yourself.” She bowed her head, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Please,” she added.

  Ridley studied her. This woman never ceased to fascinate him. Here, he’d expected her to enlist his help in keeping the inventory, so she could avoid being around the horses. Instead, she was more concerned about what people would think if they discovered her fear. Still wanting everything to appear the way it should be …

  He’d pegged her well. “You have my word on it.”

  She stepped around him to go inside.

  “Before you go, ma’am —”

  She turned back, and Ridley — remembering her reaction at first seeing him in the office and the repeated glances she’d stolen his way — made a point of dragging a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. Just the thought that Olivia Aberdeen might find him somewhat attractive felt like a hard-won victory. Because every time he was with this woman, his attraction to her only deepened. “You haven’t said anything about it yet, ma’am.”

  “Said anything about what, Mr. Cooper?” Her brow furrowed.

  A nice touch, he’d grant her that. But unconvincing. “About me shaving off my beard.” He smiled when he saw a flicker in her eyes — that she knew he knew she’d noticed — but then those pretty blue eyes went predictably vacant again.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I must not have been paying close enough attention. But, now that you mention it …” She stepped back and looked at him. “It looks … nice.”

  “Nice?” he repeated. Not exactly the word he’d have chosen from her.

  She pursed her lips as though trying not to smile. Or maybe she was fighting the urge to say what she truly thought. “Good day, Mr. Cooper.”

  Before he could say anything else, she skirted past him into the sanctuary of the house. But he didn’t mind. That hint of a smile — but mainly those repeated glances back in the office — were enough.

  At least for now.

  Standing a good distance from the entrance to the mares’ stable, Olivia gripped the ledger against her chest, feeling her breakfast of hotcakes and sausage debating on whether or not to stay down. She offered a vote, but her stomach clenched tighter, threatening to overrule it.

  Nearly a week had passed since she’d met with General Harding about overseeing the farm’s inventory. Since then, she’d visited every operation on the plantation — the cattle, pigs, and cashmere goats; the dairy; and the Shetland ponies, which she had to admit were quite charming little creatures. At least from where she’d stood watching them, a safe distance behind the fence. And, without exception, she’d managed to inventory each of the businesses without trauma.

  She’d chosen to walk between locations instead of taking the general’s suggestion of riding a horse, heaven help her. But covering the distance between destinations — sometimes up to three or four miles each way — had proven more of a challenge than she’d originally thought. It had been worth it though, when considering the alternative. Well, mostly worth it.

  The blisters on the soles of her feet and backs of her heels made walking and standing — even now —– excruciating. She’d barely managed to get her boots on this morning. She was capable of walking the distance. That wasn’t the issue. She merely needed more appropriate boots. Either that or the use of a carriage and a servant, which she didn’t feel at liberty to request after General Harding had suggested she ride.

  Twice in recent days the general had asked if she’d begun inventory in the stables yet, and twice she’d told him it was next on her list. She simply hadn’t told him it was last.

  Smoothing sweaty palms over her skirt, she continued toward the open stable door, each step painful. The horses weren’t the only thing she was nervous about seeing again. The last time she’d spoken with Ridley Cooper had been following the meeting with General Harding, and she’d noticed a definite change in the man that afternoon. In the way he’d spoken to her — even more forthright than usual, almost daring. She’d seen him from afar a handful of times since then and would’ve sworn she’d caught a difference in the way he looked at her too. And she wondered if the conclusion she’d jumped to was correct …

  Now that Ridley Cooper was her supervisor, so to speak, did he feel as if he had the upper hand? Well … She raised her chin a notch. If he thought for one minute that she was going to kowtow to him because General Harding mandated that he review her reports, he would find himself sadly mistaken.

  And yet — her chin lowered a touch — it was a delicate balance, because she did need his help inventorying the stables.

  When she reached the entrance to the stable, the pungent smell of horse sweat and hay hit her in the face, and her stomach twisted. Choking back both breakfast and fear, she pictured sweet Aunt Elizabeth recommending her to the general for this task specifically, and she forced one foot in front of the other.

  Chapter

  TWENTY

  Shielded from sunlight, the air in the stable felt instantly cooler, yet closer. Olivia told herself there was as much air in here as outside. But it didn’t feel true.

  She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the stable appeared even larger from this perspective than when viewed from the mansion. Rows of stalls lined both sides, each containing a pair — or two — of ominous black eyes peering her way, following her progress.

  A tickle started in her nose, resulting in a sneeze, and she tugged her handkerchief from her sleeve. She looked up to see a gentleman approaching, although upon closer examination — as he took the liberty of examining her more closely — she decided the term gentleman wasn’t quite accurate.

  “Good morning, sir. I’m looking for a Mr. —”

  “Then you’ve come to the right place, ma’am. Because I’m a mister, for sure.” He leaned in, sniffing loudly, and Olivia took a backward step. “You sure smell pretty. Gonna make these other ladies in here mighty jealous.”

  With his tongue, he poked at the bulge between his lower cheek and gum, then puckered. Anticipating what was forthcoming, Olivia looked away. But when he swallowed instead, she brought a hand to her midsection, convinced that breakfast was finally about to revolt. He was a big man, broad through the chest and powerful looking. And she wanted no part of him.

  She took a needed breath. “I’m looking for Mr. Ridley Cooper. If you would be so kind as to direct me to where he —”

  “Whatever he can do for you, ma’am …” He smiled, the gesture not an improvement. “I’ll do you one better. Now tell me, did you come down here to ride? Or do you want a tour of the place? Tell me your pleasure and I’ll serve it right up.”

  He braced an arm against the stall beside her, and the air thinned around her face.

  “Excuse me, sir, I think I’ll —”

  “Matthews!”

  She looked past him to see Mr. Cooper striding toward them, thunder in his eyes.

  “Matthews, you’re needed outside. In the second corral. Now.”

  Matthews straightened and threw Mr. Cooper a none-too-friendly look, then aimed a stained-tooth smile at Olivia as he departed.

  Mr. Cooper glanced out the door, then back at her. “Morning, Mrs. Aberdeen. You all right? You look a little pale, ma’am.”

  Hearing the subtle query within a query, she swallowed, her stomach’s rebellion quieting. “I’m fine, Mr. Cooper.” She i
ndicated the ledger in her grip, eager to prove she could do this. “I’m ready to get to work, if you don’t mind showing me where everything is kept.”

  He hesitated, watching her, then motioned. “I’d be happy to.”

  He led the way between the stalls, and she worked to keep up with him, wincing every few steps. She kept her focus straight ahead and stayed dead center in the middle of the aisle, wary of the horses peering from their stalls, not wanting to get too close.

  Mr. Cooper looked back. “Am I moving too fast for you?”

  “Not at all.” Her feet throbbed and she clenched her jaw, trying not to think about it. It would be hours before she could return to her room and take off her boots.

  “You know …” He slowed his steps. “I half expected you to come earlier in the week. Thought you might choose to go ahead and get the worst part out of the way first.”

  She heard the teasing in his voice and started to make a verbal list of all the inventorying she’d completed. But when she saw his expression, she read only kindly meant humor and decided a smile would suffice.

  Without warning, a chestnut mare appeared in a stall to the right, nickering and tossing her head. Olivia jumped back, nearly losing her balance. A strong hand came around her waist and held her steady.

  “It’s all right.” Mr. Cooper laughed softly. “It’s just Gem. She’s trying to give you a proper welcome, that’s all.”

  Olivia glared at the mare, none too convinced about the proper welcome, but only too aware of Mr. Cooper’s hand lingering on the small of her back. “Jim doesn’t sound like a proper name for a mare.”

  He frowned, but only for a second. “Oh … No, it’s Gem, as in jewel. Uncle Bob named her that, because he says he saw a diamond in the rough when she was first born. This girl’s pretty proud of herself, and with reason.” He moved to stroke the horse’s forehead. “She came in first at the track on Tuesday. This lady can fly!”

  Seeing Mr. Cooper’s ease with Gem reminded her of another mare. “How is the horse you’ve been working with? The one that was hurt in the carriage accident?”