by Ginny Aiken
“Oh, dear,” Addie cried. “I’d so looked forward to a lovely afternoon with you, Livvy, but my little man won’t stop his crying, no matter what I do. Honestly, you don’t have to stay and put up with all this howling. I understand if you choose to leave.”
Olivia stepped past her friend and into the attractive entry to the Tuckers’ comfortable home, tugging off her fresh gloves. “I should leave you to cope with it alone? What kind of friend would that make me?”
Addie gave a weak laugh. “A wise one.”
Joshua gave a particularly sharp cry.
His mother went on. “Who in her right mind would subject herself to this when she doesn’t have to?”
Olivia removed her hat and placed it, together with the gloves and purse, on a chair in the parlor. “A real friend, Adelaide Tucker. Here. Give me that sweet boy of yours. Let’s see if a change of arms will do him any good.”
While Addie looked doubtful, she handed Olivia her unhappy son. “I think you’ve gone completely mad. This nanny position you’ve taken seems to have affected your sanity.”
“Did you ever think me particularly sane?”
The chubby little boy halted his screams when Olivia cuddled him against her shoulder. A waft of sweet baby scents drew her to the crook of his neck where she nuzzled him. He let out a surprised giggle.
She did it again, and he responded with delighted laughter. “You like that, do you? Then maybe you and I should go giggle in the kitchen so that your poor, tired mama can take a short nap. I suspect she needs one, since you don’t strike me as though you’ve been of a mood to sleep much lately.”
Addie snorted. “Sleep? I doubt this rascal has any recollection of that pleasant, wonderful activity.”
“Go ahead, then,” Olivia urged Addie. “Do lie down for a bit. I’d love to entertain Joshua. Besides, I’m sure you’ll feel like a new woman after a nap. If I can get him to fall asleep, well then, that will be all the better.”
“Oh, but Livvy, that’s not fair to you. You spend your days chasing after those wild Whitman children. The last thing you want to do on a free afternoon is to cope with my little one.”
“Let me decide that.” She glanced at Joshua, who was making interesting gestures with his rosy mouth. “I suspect he’s teething. If you trust me, I have a trick or two Mama used with Leah Rose when she went through the same thing. Go ahead and lie down. I’m sure Josh, Sr., will be happy to come home and find his beautiful bride all rested and happy to see him.”
Addie blushed a pretty pink that made her fair skin glow and set off her green eyes. “I suppose you do have a point. Josh has come home to a screaming baby and grumpy wife too many days now.” With amusing eagerness, she crossed to the stairs. “Who would have thought things would turn out this way for you?”
Holding onto the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, she paused to study Olivia. “I do believe you’ve come into your own these last few weeks. Working for the bank president seems to suit you. Better still, those two youngsters don’t appear to be having too dreadful an effect on you.”
Olivia shrugged, a hint of heat filling her own cheeks. If Addie only knew what she’d been going through since she arrived at the Whitman home. “They’re not that bad, Addie. They’re at loose ends, what with their mother dead, and all. Then Mr. Whitman hired three elderly matrons, each one without a smile to her, and much too full of strict rules, from what I’ve heard. How much sense does that make to you?”
Addie started up the stairs. “Not much, if what you say is indeed the case. But I say it’s still a surprise how well this position suits you. You’re blooming like your mother’s garden—”
“You do mean Mama’s garden before the drought and the bugs, right?”
“Oh, Livvy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of all that. Let’s not talk about dreary things. My thoughtless comment is enough to convince me to take you up on your offer to watch Joshua. Oh, and that nap, as well. Maybe sleep will put a leash on my words.”
Before Olivia could comment, Addie bolted halfway up the stairs. “Don’t let me sleep too long,” she pleaded. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you. No matter what you say, you do spend enough of your time watching other folks’ misbehaving little ones as it is.”
Olivia shooed her friend all the way up the stairs, and then sat in the lovely maple rocker near the window in the parlor, little Joshua babbling away against her shoulder. Addie did have a point. It was remarkable how well the job suited her. Remarkable, but true. As troublesome as Luke and Randy could be, she was coming to love those two scamps. Every day they found a way to nudge deeper into a corner of her heart.
Every day she thanked the Father for putting in her mind the idea to approach Mr. Whitman. She also would forever be thankful that Mr. Whitman had, in turn, agreed to this trial period.
She hoped he felt the same way. She hoped he didn’t regret bringing her into his home.
After a two-hour nap, Addie seemed to fly down the stairs, a smile on her lips, the normal glow back in her face. “Thank you so very much, Olivia. I can’t tell you how much good the nap has done me—”
“Shh! You might wake him up.”
“He’s asleep?”
“It looks as though your little one simply wore himself out. It had to happen sooner or later.”
Addie hurried to the cradle on the far side of the sofa to see for herself. “I can’t thank you enough.”
She came to sit on the sofa, Olivia in one corner, Addie in the other. As moments went by in silence, Olivia watched her friend’s expression change. From cheerful and animated, she turned somber and concerned.
Olivia grew alarmed. “Addie? What’s wrong? Do you feel ill?”
“Not in the way you mean. But there is a situation that’s making me ill, if you understand my meaning.”
Olivia couldn’t imagine what might be troubling her friend. It was hard to imagine, but one thing came to mind. “Are you and Josh no longer getting along?”
“No, no. Of course, we are. It’s something else.” Addie stared at her hands, knotted together in her lap. “I… I went to Mama’s the other day. She was hosting the Ladies’ Bible Society, and I was there to help her. Oh, Livvy, those old biddies and their gossip made me so mad!”
“Addie! How could you call them such a thing? That isn’t like you one bit.”
She met Olivia’s gaze, her green eyes sparking with anger. “I wanted to pull their ears, like spoiled children, they made me so angry. They had the nerve to talk about you.”
She gasped. “Me? Why?”
Addie’s cheeks blazed. “That’s what bothered me so. They were talking about you and—” She drew up short, clamped her lips, shook her head. “Oh, Livvy, I’m so sorry. They were saying horrid things about you and Mr. Whitman. They made it sound frightfully inappropriate for you to work for him, to live in the house with him.”
Olivia clapped her hands on her own scorching cheeks. “But I’m not living with him. Not that way. Besides, there are children in the house. Cooky’s room is next to mine. She’s always there with me. He and I are never alone.”
“Mama said so, but they wouldn’t listen. They had made up their minds. Nothing we said swayed them.” She took Olivia’s hand. “You may have to consider leaving your position. You can’t let your need for wages sully your reputation. You have to watch what these sour cats say.”
“But I can’t, Addie. You know how things stand with Mama and Papa. I can’t burden them again. I need this job.”
“You need to keep yourself above reproach.”
The ache in her heart grew so deep that Olivia struggled to draw another breath. How could it all have turned out like this? Now, when things seemed on the right path for the first time?
She had a clear conscience, and the Lord knew her heart. She simply had to persevere. Those women needed chores to keep them busy, as she’d busied Luke and Randy these last few days.
“I suppose I’ll have to
think about it,” she said, “but I can’t let frivolous gossip keep me from helping my family. I’ll have to trust the Lord to see me through.”
Addie nodded, a rueful smile on her lips. “I can’t say I like your point, but I understand. I’ll always stand behind you, you know. I’ll always defend you.”
“I’m so glad you haven’t even asked—”
“What? If there’s anything to the rumors?”
Olivia nodded.
“Pffft!” Addie waved. “I know you better than that. You’re a decent, moral, godly woman. You’d never do anything like that. Besides, as you said, there are children in the house. Those women need their hands slapped.”
Olivia gave her friend a weak smile as she stood. “And I need to get to the school. The children will come out any minute now, and Mr. Whitman wants me to walk them home every day.”
“I must say, since you started there I haven’t heard a single word about them getting into more scrapes. You’re doing an excellent job.”
She hoped.
Addie grabbed her hand, squeezed her fingers. “But promise you’ll think about what I said.”
“I gave you my word, Addie. I’ll think about it. Only don’t expect me to change my mind.”
Addie nodded, but said nothing more. There was nothing left to say. They walked to the door in silence, each one somber, Olivia fighting tears.
Eli left the bank early that afternoon with a troubled heart. At some level, he knew Nathan was right, but he didn’t have it in him to let down the men who’d asked for his help.
Holtwood also had a good point. If matters didn’t settle down, he risked losing a splendid opportunity for the town. He’d never live with himself if his distraction cost Bountiful the chance to really flourish.
As he closed the front door, Cooky bustled to meet him. “You’ve a visitor, Mr. Whitman, sir. I did show him to the parlor, and served him a good cup of coffee, I did. He’s a-waiting on you there.”
How odd. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He’d come home early, seeking time to think and pray.
“Well, well! Reverend Alton,” he said, surprised to find the man in his home. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
The reverend stood, hat in hand, his expression one that spoke of anything but pleasure. “I’m afraid, son, that I come on a difficult errand.”
“Please, do sit. You’ve intrigued me. How can I help you?”
“Actually, Eli, I’m hoping I can help you. There’s been talk around town, nasty talk, and you’re at the center of it.”
“I never let gossip bother me, Reverend. I don’t have the time to waste on that sort of thing.”
“This time is different. It involves more than you.”
“I’m not following. I’m a plain-spoken man, and I’d rather you come right out and spell it out for me.”
“It’s about you, and Olivia Moore.”
Eli couldn’t believe his ears. “There’s talk about my children’s nanny and me?”
“Afraid so.”
“What could they possibly say? My wife died, I’ve hired a number of women to work with my children, who ran them all off. I was at wits’ end, and reckoned a local woman might be for the best. Besides, I’m away a great deal of time. Please tell anyone who’s come running with tales that they’re wrong.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself to me, and you shouldn’t have to defend yourself to them, either. But folks are that way. They see something curious, and they’re bound to make much of it. You’re a young, well-to-do man, and Olivia is a beautiful young woman. Both of you are unmarried, and she lives in your home.”
“It’s not as though we’re alone. The children are here, and they keep her busy all the time. Cooky is here, too. We’re properly chaperoned.”
“I understand, Eli. Believe me, I do. But you cannot continue like this. You cannot let your situation tarnish Olivia’s reputation. Even the hint of scandal will ruin her for life.”
Eli ran a hand through his hair. “But I can’t let her go. She’s done more with my two than anyone before her. I need her here.”
“You need her, you say?”
“Without her, I’d have to send Luke and Randy to boarding school back East. I can’t care for them while I’m at the bank or away on business. Cooky can’t watch them, either. Her hands are full with the house and the kitchen.”
“The way I see it, son, you have two choices. You either send Olivia back home to her parents or…” He stood and looked away. “Or you marry her.”
Eli bolted upright. “Absolutely not! That’s madness. I couldn’t up and marry that woman. She’s practically a stranger. Besides, you know what I went through before. I’m not about to do that again.”
“Olivia’s not Victoria. Many, many good marriages begin for the sake of the children. Tender feelings grow from common goals and after longer acquaintance. The Lord blesses those who do the right thing, you know.”
Eli could scarcely believe his ears. This was madness. “You think the right thing is for me to marry my children’s nanny?”
“You could also send her home.”
“I need a nanny for my children, and perhaps someone who’ll help with the occasional social event—but those are rare. I haven’t hosted one since… well, since Victoria died. I don’t need a wife.”
“I’m sure Olivia will excel at both.”
“Madness,” Eli murmured, although he did agree with the pastor on at least one detail. Olivia Moore was indeed a beautiful woman.
“Much of life starts out as madness, but then, Scripture says that all things work together for good to them that love God, and are called according to His purposes.”
That brought Eli up short. Could there be wisdom in Reverend Alton’s suggestion? While his parents had married for love, he also knew others who’d married for various practical reasons. Most of those marriages were far more productive and peaceful than his to Victoria had been.
He knew in his heart that God could work miracles in the oddest of circumstances. He’d been a believer since he was very young. “I suppose that is something to consider.”
“Please do that, son. A young woman’s future is at stake.”
“As is my children’s.”
“You’re correct. They need a mother more than they need even the finest nanny.”
As they walked to the front door, Eli heard Luke laugh. Again. The boy hadn’t laughed much in longer than he cared to count. Since well before his mother died, as a matter of fact.
“Is that your boy?” the reverend asked.
Eli nodded.
“Is he alone?”
“I doubt it. Before you ask, I believe he is with Miss Moore.”
Reverend Alton patted Eli’s shoulder. “That speaks volumes. Think about what I’ve said.”
Eli nodded. He would think about it; he doubted he’d think about much else in the near future.
Another laugh floated down the stairs, this one bell-like and feminine. Olivia Moore did indeed look better and better every day.
Chapter 10
“Oh, no! No-no-no-no-no-no-no!”
In the dark interior of the privy, Olivia couldn’t believe the door was stuck. How?
She’d come outside, as she always did before changing into her nightgown and going to bed. The door had been open, nothing had been in the way. She’d taken care of her needs, and now… well, now she couldn’t get out.
She didn’t want to face the suspicion looming large in the back of her mind, but she supposed she had to. Could either Randy or Luke—or both—have done this? Had they thought this funny or were they still rebelling against her presence? Were they this serious about ridding themselves of the hated “nanny”?
Of all days. After that disturbing conversation with Addie.
Olivia didn’t know how much more she could take before she broke.
It was fall, and a cold spell had come through. While the outhouse walls kept the wind from striking her, she cou
ld feel the advancing cold. Since she hadn’t planned to spend much time outside, Olivia only had on her regular clothes, and hadn’t brought a wrap with her. She never brought a candle, unless it was a moonless night—unlike tonight. The utilitarian structure was pitch dark. A shiver ran through her. She didn’t want to spend the night out here. In fact, all she could think about was curling under her blankets and shutting her eyes. Blessed sleep wouldn’t come too soon for her after this horrid, horrid day.
She wanted… she wanted…
She wanted to go home, to Mama and Papa, to where she knew she was wanted, treasured, respected. She didn’t want to continue to fight the children’s stubborn rejection. What had she done to make them lock her in? Did they resent an outsider so much that they felt the need to show her she would always stay outside the circle of their family?
Did they think she was trying to worm her way in?
On top of that, she didn’t want to defend herself before a gaggle of gossiping fools. Even if some of them were Mama’s friends. If they could think such awful things about Olivia, then they were fools.
Tears burned her eyes. She hadn’t sinned. She hadn’t even overstepped her place within the Whitman family. At least, she didn’t think she had.
“Lord Jesus, what did I do wrong? What did I fail to do? It’s clear I’m failing, no matter how hard I’ve tried. You know how much I need to help Mama and Papa. I need to stand on my own two feet. I need to make this work.”
How could she fail at something so simple? This was what she’d done her whole life, she’d helped out at home, cared for her sisters and brothers. Surely she could handle two children.
Couldn’t she?
A mocking voice set up a refrain in the back of her thoughts. Failure, failure, failure.
Her spirits sank to the lowest depths she’d experienced. When he heard the rumor, and saw how incapable she really was, Mr. Whitman was sure to send her home. Once she was no longer employed in Bountiful, she would have to seek work elsewhere. The thought of leaving her family to move to Kansas City, Denver, or Minneapolis made everything inside her freeze, and not from the piercing chill. To be unable to see her family at church on Sundays, to know she couldn’t go home and visit—it was more than Olivia could stand.
