When she reached the cabin, it was all she could do to negotiate the two steps up to the porch and then set the tray down on a bench beside the window without dropping it. Oh, her arms ached, but it felt so good to be free of the weight.
She smoothed her dress and the sides of her hair, wondering why Ridley hadn’t mentioned anything to her about traveling today. Then she saw movement through the window, inside the cabin, of a bare back and broad shoulders and muscular arms that had held her close. Ridley turned toward the window, reaching for his shirt, which hung on a chair. She didn’t dare move for fear he’d see her from the corner of his eye. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, then began sliding the buttons through the buttonholes. The shirt stretched taut over his chest.
To say that Ridley Cooper was handsome was like saying the thoroughbreds at Belle Meade were fairly nice horses. She told herself to look away but couldn’t.
Or didn’t.
She’d seen a man put on a shirt before. But never, in all the times she’d seen Charles dress, had she wanted to reach out to him like she wanted to with Ridley. To see if her slightest touch could stir him like his touch did her.
Ridley turned away from the window, and Olivia did the same. She waited a few seconds, then knocked on the door at the same moment Ridley opened it. “Olivia!” His expression was surprised but happy.
“Good morning, Mr. Cooper. I’m here with breakfast, compliments of the kitchen.”
His eyes brightened further. “We woke a little late, so I figured we’d have to go without.” He glanced past her. “Uncle Bob! Breakfast!”
Uncle Bob appeared in the door of the adjoining cabin. “And we got about two shakes of a rabbit’s tail to eat it!”
Minutes later, still amazed at how quickly two hungry men could make a tray full of food disappear, she walked back to the main house with them to the carriage waiting in the drive. General Harding wasn’t there yet.
“You’ll be back tonight?”
Ridley nodded. “A quick trip. Part of getting ready for the yearling sale.” He winked. “Why? You want to go with us? Help us check out the horses?”
If they’d been alone, she would have playfully shoved him. As it was, she narrowed her eyes and leveled a stare, which only made him laugh.
Uncle Bob leaned over. “I hear you’s joinin’ us for the shindig, ma’am.” He smiled big. “Best bring your dancin’ shoes. ‘Cause we know how to kick up a fair amount o’ dust.”
The door to the mansion opened, and General Harding strode toward them. Ridley and Uncle Bob waited for him to climb into the carriage first, then Ridley gestured for Uncle Bob to go next before he turned back.
“Thanks for bringing us breakfast, Olivia,” he whispered. “That was real sweet.”
You’re welcome, she mouthed back, hearing only friendship — and nothing more — in his words.
The carriage pulled away, and she walked back in the direction of her bedroom. Then, on second thought, she retraced her steps to the old Harding cabin and gathered the breakfast dishes, stacking everything again on the tray. Recognizing one of Ridley’s shirts hanging on a hook on the wall, she momentarily forgot about the dirty dishes, taking a moment to run her fingers down the sleeve. In height, stature, and strength, he was so much like Charles. And yet …
He was nothing like Charles at all.
Charles would forever be remembered as a traitor of the Confederacy and a cheat. A man who had disgraced himself, his family, and his countrymen. Ridley Cooper, like so many others, was a wounded but loyal true son of the South, struggling to find his place again.
And he would, she believed, in time.
The tray wasn’t nearly so heavy on the way back. She deposited it in the kitchen with Chloe, then slipped back upstairs to work for a while on Jimmy and Jolene’s lessons before she met with them later. She was eager to start planning her lessons for the freedmen’s school too.
When she reached the second-story porch, her bedroom door stood ajar. She entered, expecting to find one of the servants, but saw Rachel by the wardrobe instead.
Rachel glanced up, her blue eyes especially bright. “Missus Aberdeen! I’m glad you come by, ma’am. I’m needin’ you to try on some-thin’ for me.” With an expectant look, Rachel withdrew a gown from the wardrobe with a flourish.
Olivia’s breath caught. She recognized the deep russet-red fabric and knew it was the dress that had belonged to her mother. But she could scarcely believe it was the same gown. Because it wasn’t. The dress was … “Oh, Rachel.” Olivia sighed, shaking her head. “It’s gorgeous!”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Rachel’s voice went soft. “But it ain’t nearly as pretty now as it’s gonna be with you in it. Look here, I added this special.” She pointed to the delicate trim of black tasseled lace she’d sewn along the neckline and that appeared to continue on around to the back. “I thought it’d go real pretty with your hair.”
Olivia fingered one of the tassels. “It’s lovely.”
She’d always shied away from wearing sleeveless gowns, what with the scar on her forearm. But she did, on occasion, when the event demanded. Charles had insisted she wear evening gloves to cover what he deemed a less-than-comely feature, but she’d have done so anyway. If Aunt Elizabeth didn’t have a pair she could borrow, she’d ask someone to purchase a pair for her in town.
She stepped back to better admire the altered hemline of the dress and couldn’t begin to fathom how much time and work had gone into adding the length of fabric Rachel had sewn along the hem. Olivia would never have chosen the faintly striped fabric to go with the floral brocade of the dress, but the combination was stunning. And not only that, Rachel had added rosettes with bows, creating a scalloped tier where the two coordinating fabrics met.
Olivia knelt to admire the skilled needlework. “Rachel, I-I don’t know what to say. This dress has always been special to me, but now …”
“So you’re pleased then?”
Olivia laughed. “Pleased doesn’t begin to describe it.”
“Oh!” Rachel grinned. “I ain’t even showed you the back yet.” She turned the dress around to reveal a bow that tied at the fitted waist and trailed the length of the gown. “Now, if you don’t mind, ma’am … Let’s get you into it so I can see what final touches I need to make ‘fore the big night.”
With Rachel’s help, Olivia changed into the gown, trying to keep her arm turned so Rachel wouldn’t see the scar, while also attempting to sneak peeks at the dress in the mirror.
“No, ma’am!” Rachel giggled, holding her still. “Not yet you don’t. First, we need to get you all buttoned and tied up in the back.”
Olivia looked down. With her crinolines beneath, the dress extended out from her waist in a bell shape. “You must let me pay you for the fabric and for your work, Rachel.”
Rachel patted her shoulder. “I ‘preciate that, Missus Aberdeen. But somebody already done paid me, ma’am. They swore me to a secret, so I ain’t tellin’. And you best not be askin’.”
Olivia didn’t have to ask. She knew. Aunt Elizabeth. She’d never be able to thank the woman for all she’d done.
Rachel nudged her shoulder. “All right now. Get on over there so we can see it!”
Even before Olivia reached the mirror, she heard Rachel’s soft intake of breath behind her — and experienced the same reaction when she first saw her reflection. The dress was even prettier on than off. But it was who Olivia saw when she first looked in the mirror that stole a breath and caused her eyes to burn.
“Missus Aberdeen?” Rachel came alongside her. “Is somethin’ wrong, ma’am? You don’t like it?”
“I love it, Rachel. The dress is perfect. It’s not that. It’s …” Her smile felt bittersweet. “Aunt Elizabeth has told me many times that when she looks at me, she can see my mother. But … I’ve never been able to see it myself. Until now.”
Rachel’s blue eyes glistened in the morning light. “I understand what you sayin’, ma’am,”
she said softly. “Gives you a funny feelin’ to walk by a mirror and catch a glimpse of someone else in your face.” She met Olivia’s gaze in the reflection. “Or maybe walk by a picture on a wall and see your own eyes lookin’ back out at you.”
Reading more than simple understanding in Rachel’s expression, Olivia remembered the day she’d found Rachel staring at the portrait of John Harding in the entrance hall.
Rachel adjusted one of the black tassels that had gone askew. “Makes you feel a little closer to ‘em, in a way, I guess.”
“While also making you miss them even more,” Olivia whispered.
“Yes, ma’am.” Rachel’s jaw firmed. “Yes, ma’am … it sure do.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this view, Livvy. The hills are so breathtaking.”
Olivia paused beside her aunt and shielded her eyes from the sun as she peered out across the meadow. Exactly two weeks before Christmas and it felt more like a day in May than December. But that was one of the things she loved about Tennessee. Indian summers. She lifted her gaze to the hills beyond and, in her mind’s eye, she pictured the jagged peaks of the Colorado Rocky Mountains tipped with snow as Ridley had described. She wondered whether the Colorado Territory ever had days like this.
Aunt Elizabeth resumed their stroll, and Olivia fell into step beside her.
“Aunt Elizabeth, thank you again for what you did with the dress. Rachel worked wonders!”
Elizabeth’s expression turned playfully scolding. “You’re most welcome. And yes, she always does. But you’ve already thanked me once.”
“I know. But this dress is dear to me. And I never dreamed I’d be able to wear it.”
Elizabeth’s steps slowed. A peculiar look came over her face. “But Livvy, you wear the dress all the time. That’s why I asked Rachel to work on it. I’d noticed the hem was becoming a little frayed in the back, so I spoke with her about it.”
Olivia paused. “We are speaking about my mother’s dress?”
“I’m speaking about your gray ensemble, dear. The one with the jacket and white piping. Did Rachel work on one of your mother’s dresses too?”
Olivia nodded, her thoughts already churning about who else could have paid for those alterations, and it quickly landed on the only other possibility. That dear man … “And she did such beautiful work too. I’ll show it to you later.”
Elizabeth slipped her arm through Olivia’s, and they continued on.
“The other night, Livvy” — Elizabeth looked over — “I told you I was proud of you for teaching at the freedmen’s school. And I am. But I also want to urge you again to be careful. Mr. Pagette, an old childhood friend, has assured me he’s given this situation his personal attention. The first meeting will be the fifteenth of January. They’ve located a building.” She gestured. “About a mile or so through the woods. Not too far. An old hunting cabin no one uses anymore, he said. Just across the boundary of Belle Meade on a neighbor’s land.”
“And this neighbor … they know about it?”
“Oh yes, and were eager to help. But there are people, as we both know, who do not approve of servants being educated in this manner. People who would prefer that schools such as this not exist.”
“People like … the general?” Olivia broached softly, and felt Elizabeth stiffen beside her.
“My husband is a good man, Livvy.” Elizabeth paused, her voice soft but earnest. “I know you may not agree with some of his ways. But he always has your best at heart, I promise you that. And mine and the girls’ and also Belle Meade’s.”
“I have no doubt of that, Aunt Elizabeth. And while I’m grateful to you for arranging this opportunity for me, I also don’t want to place you in a precarious situation. I’m concerned about what the general’s reaction would be if he knew. He made it quite clear to Mr. Pagette that he could not support the idea of starting a school on Belle Meade property. So I have to assume he doesn’t know.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Though he does know about your teaching Jimmy and Jolene. Because I told him. But, Livvy dear, who do you think started giving Jimmy those old copies of the magazine to begin with?” Elizabeth offered a careful smile. “When the general was in prison during the war, he and Susanna traded letters quite often. He told me that hers were some of the most meaningful he received. And he’s often lent her books from his library. Does that sound like a man bent on not allowing servants to learn?”
“No, but —”
“The general has a great many responsibilities resting on his shoulders, Livvy. He also has a great number of men — powerful men on both sides of this issue — watching him as he balances those obligations. The war is over. But in many ways it’s still being fought … in the hearts of men and in their … vision for this new world.” Elizabeth looked across the meadow. “I see the weight of it in my husband’s face when he returns from a meeting in town, or when I awaken at night and find him standing at the window, staring into the darkness, unable to sleep for the cares of this world pressing down upon him.
“And don’t forget, Livvy … He has all the servants and employees depending on him. Not to mention his family. And though he would never tell you this, and I only know because I overheard him speaking to a gentleman from the bank, Belle Meade is not as solvent as it appears. My husband has debts, and this is a crucial time for him. For us. He’s depending on the yearling sale to do well. And … he’s also counting on —”
“General Meeks,” Olivia whispered, seeing it in her aunt’s eyes.
Elizabeth briefly glanced away. “Yes. General Meeks has shown great interest in investing in Belle Meade, so a union between our families — if that comes to fruition — would enhance its future. But it would also enhance your own. Chattanooga is a fine city. It wasn’t devastated like Atlanta. The bulk of General Meeks’s estate was spared. You’d be able to start afresh there, my dear. You’d have a brand-new life. Something, I fear, you will never have here.”
Olivia bowed her head and let a nod be her answer.
“Also, my dear …” Elizabeth took hold of her hand. “And you must have considered this by now, but … your teaching in the school can only be temporary.”
Olivia looked up.
“Should this union come to pass …” Elizabeth offered a smile that hinted at or when it does come to pass. “— it would hardly be fitting for a married woman, much less the wife of General Percival Meeks, to be teaching in a freedmen’s school.”
“I understand. And I’m grateful for what you’ve done. I’ll teach for as long as I can.”
Elizabeth linked arms again and turned to walk back toward the house, but Olivia hesitated.
“I think I’ll continue on for a while, Aunt Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth’s nod held understanding.
Olivia walked on toward the mares’ stable, watching for Ridley, something that had become second nature to her. Her attention was drawn to the pasture where mares were grazing, some lying in the sun. But there was one in particular … She looked closer. Seabird. The mare was running full out, her mane whipping the air behind her, her hooves hardly touching the earth. Even at this distance, Olivia could see the fullness around the mare’s middle, and she counted … Five months until Seabird would give birth to the foal of Jack Malone. Oh, how angry Ridley had been that day the mare jumped the corral.
Olivia went as far as the fence and leaned against it, admiring the horse, her speed and agility, and finding it hard to believe the mare had ever sustained a serious injury to her leg.
Such beauty, such power and freedom — Olivia couldn’t help but feel a touch of envy.
Chapter
FORTY-FOUR
Olivia waited in the front entrance hall with Aunt Elizabeth and Cousin Lizzie. She’d already arranged her hair, but hadn’t yet dressed for the shindig. She’d do that right after the Hardings left for the LeVert reception. Ridley had never said anything about escorting her, but she still wanted to look nice for him. Especia
lly tonight. And especially since he’d paid for her dress. Because whether it was sensible or not — and she knew it wasn’t — she couldn’t seem to convince her heart to stop hoping where Ridley was concerned.
She gave Elizabeth a hug, then Cousin Lizzie. “I hope you all have a marvelous time this evening. I’m certain Belmont will be exquisite.”
“Oh, no doubt it will be, Livvy.” Elizabeth’s eyes brightened. “Adelicia Acklen never does anything on a small scale, and she gives the most wonderful party favors!”
The door to the study opened behind them, and the general emerged. “Olivia.” His dark eyebrows drew together. “Bad news, I fear. I’ve received word from General Meeks that he won’t be joining us for the holidays as planned.”
Feeling as though she’d been given a Christmas gift a week early, Olivia tried her best not to show it. “General Meeks isn’t ill, I hope.”
“No, no.” The general gave her a reassuring nod. “A bit of rheumatism, I believe, that flares up in the cold. He says he looks forward to seeing us all again soon.”
Olivia nodded, glad to hear it wasn’t anything serious. She didn’t want to marry the gentleman, but she also didn’t wish him ill.
“Ah …” General Harding glanced toward the staircase. “My eldest daughter, in all her glory.” Selene descended the stairs looking radiant, as always, shiny curls arranged atop her head. “Daughter.” The general placed a kiss on her forehead. “General William Hicks Jackson had better mind his interests this evening, or someone else is liable to steal you away.”
Selene smiled and ducked her head.
From outside, the clomp of horses’ hooves announced the arrival of the carriage, and the general peered through the window.
“Livvy?” Elizabeth whispered where only Olivia could hear. “I left the gloves for you on my dressing table. I hope you have a wonderful time tonight, dear. That was very kind of Rachel to invite you.”
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