For Such a Time as This: A Women of Hope Novel

by Ginny Aiken

  Murmurs of apology and a wash of sheepish expressions came forth. Eli was impressed. Who wouldn’t be? It might seem he could learn a thing or two about being a father from Mr. Moore. Just a firm word brought about the desired results. Clearly, this was where Olivia had learned her ways with children, by watching her mother and father raise them all.

  Maybe she did have a point. Maybe the two families should grow closer.

  Randy stood. “Papa, may I please be excused? I’d like to take Marty and Leah Rose up to my room to show them the dollhouse you had Mr. Bowen make for me last Christmas.”

  Fighting a smile, Eli nodded. “Go ahead. I’m sure they’ll enjoy all the tiny pieces Tom whittled to fill the rooms in that house.”

  As the girls headed out of the dining room, they held themselves tall and composed. But when the youngest of the Moore girls stepped past Luke, Eli saw her glare at him and stick out her tongue.

  “What…?” he asked.

  “One of the victims of the pig episode is Leah Rose’s dearest friend,” Olivia answered.

  The girls sauntered out, but, as soon as they reached the hall, their footsteps pounded up the stairs, all three in a rush to reach the dollhouse.

  He arched a brow in Olivia’s direction. “I see Randy has left ‘Miranda’ somewhere else today.”

  Olivia smiled. “I’m sure we’ll have her back once my sisters are home again.”

  He laughed. “More’s the pity. I much prefer the girl Randy, you know.”

  “Oh…” Olivia said in a thoughtful if amused tone, “I find both quite charming. I’m thinking I must have done the same to Mama and Papa.”

  The elder Moores laughed.

  “At least she’s honest,” Stephen said. “When Livvy was that age, she seemed older than the hills one minute, and then she became a moody handful of a youngster the next.”

  The pleasant afternoon wore on, the chatter centered on the two families’ experiences in a new region, the challenges posed by raising children in the raw West, and the steady, welcome growth Bountiful was experiencing. A short while later, when it seemed they’d exhausted all conversational avenues, the older Moores stood and called for their children. After they’d left, Eli noticed the sudden silence, without any warning missing the cheerful hum the visit had created.

  “Thank you,” Olivia said.

  “For what? You and Cooky did all the work.”

  “You were very gracious and didn’t object to my inviting them before I’d spoken to you.”

  A twinge of guilt zipped through him. “I must admit, I was surprised, but this is your home now, Olivia. They are your family. You should feel comfortable enough to have them here. I’m glad you do.”

  He prayed he would stay glad.

  Only time and a deepening closeness between them would tell him if he’d made a huge mistake.

  The happiness she’d felt at her luncheon’s success stayed with Olivia for the rest of the day. She spent time with Luke and Randy, she sewed for a while, and finally, in the early evening, they all enjoyed a light supper of leftover roast, Cooky’s delicious bread, creamy butter, and crisp apples.

  “Will you be joining me in the parlor tonight?” Eli asked as she stood to follow the children from the dining room.

  “If you’d like.” Pleasure fluttered in her middle. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ll have my sewing with me. I’ve a lot to finish before Christmas, and quiet evenings are a perfect time for me to make progress.”

  “It should be interesting to watch you finish the dresses for Randy. It’s been years since I’ve seen anyone do any amount of sewing. My mother died when I was sixteen.”

  Olivia noticed his failure to mention his late wife. “I hope the memories I bring back are good ones.”

  “They are, indeed—”

  “Mama!” Luke called.

  “I’ll be right with you.” She turned to Eli. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back as soon as they’re settled for the night.”

  “I’ll be waiting with our coffee—my coffee and your tea.”

  She blushed at his obvious effort to please her. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to our evening.”

  “So am I. I do have something I’d like to discuss with you. But it’ll wait until you come back downstairs. It’s not urgent.”

  She hurried to help Luke with his schoolwork, a nugget of joy glowing in her heart. Maybe their marriage had a chance to work out after all.

  That thought carried Olivia through the bedtime routines, to her room to gather Randy’s gift-in-the-making, down again, and into the parlor.

  “Good,” Eli said as she walked in. “You’re back. Here. Let me get your tea.”

  Olivia sat in the same corner of the sofa as she had the past two nights, sewing basket at her side, Randy’s dress spread over her lap. The pleasurable glimmer within continued as she threaded her needle while Eli brought her the hot beverage. He set the graceful cup and saucer on the small walnut table to the right of the sofa.

  She smiled at her husband, then took a sip to show her appreciation. He had cared enough to make sure Cooky steeped a pot of tea for her. His attention to her preferences touched her. While she did drink coffee often enough, her choice was always for a good, bracing cup of Earl Grey.

  After she’d replaced the cup, she took up her sewing again, her attention on Eli, since he’d said he had something to discuss with her. He didn’t make her wait long.

  “I’m sure you remember Luke’s enthusiasm about the possibility of the railroad bringing a spur through town.”

  A chill ran through her, stealing a good measure of her happiness. This was not a subject dear to her heart. “Of course,” she said. “It would be difficult to miss how much he wants that to happen.”

  Eli lit his pipe, drew a long pull at the aromatic tobacco, and watched a curl of smoke rise above his head. “I have to admit, I agree with him.”

  The cocoa-laced scent reached Olivia, and for the first time since they’d begun their evening conversations, it failed to please her. She waited for Eli to continue.

  “The railroad will be sending various officials to investigate the land, the town’s needs, and the financial practicality of the project. I’m their host while they’re in town—”

  “What? You’re having them stay with us? Here?”

  Eli laughed. “No, no. They’ll stay at the River Run Hotel in town. But I did extend the original invitation, so I’m responsible for the success of their stay in Bountiful.”

  Olivia sat back, a rush of weakness sending a shiver through her limbs. That had been too alarming for her comfort. “I understand. What will it mean to the family?”

  “Nothing much to the family—the children—but plenty to you and me. You see, I’d like to host a Christmas party while these gentlemen are in town. The brunt of the planning and preparations will fall on you. Are you willing to help me with this?”

  Olivia opened her eyes wide. “I see. That is something, isn’t it? Um… I suppose it will take a good amount of work, as you said, and…” She set her misgivings aside and squared her shoulders. “Very well, Eli. I don’t see too much of a problem with your plan. Cooky and I can handle it.”

  Relief broke out across his face. “I had hoped you would agree. Thank you. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you and Cooky prepare for the event.”

  She slanted him an amused look. “I don’t think you’ll be much help once I begin to stitch up a grand new tablecloth, nor do I think you’ll accomplish much in the kitchen… unless you decide to help Cooky peel potatoes.”

  He laughed. “I can see you want to keep this a job for the ladies of the house.”

  “Of course. And if you don’t mind,” she added, “I’ll ask Mama to help. She learned a great deal about proper entertaining while she grew up in Baltimore. I can still remember the lovely dinners she held when we lived back East, even though I was very young, and it was wartime. She made a little seem like a lot of ni
ce.”

  Moments crawled by, and then, after what she experienced as a short eternity, he gave a brief nod. “I can see where you would want her help. It makes a good deal of sense to bring her expertise into the planning. Are you sure you can manage such an event?”

  So that must have been what prompted the strange look. Her suggestion to seek her mother’s help with the party must have made it appear as though she couldn’t pull together the affair. Olivia became more determined than before to succeed, to provide her husband with the most appropriate, elegant, and delightful Christmas party possible.

  “By the Father’s grace, Eli Whitman, I can do all things through Christ, who does, indeed, strengthen me.”

  “Ho-ho! I see you’ve taken my words as a challenge of sorts.”

  She set the rose-colored dress aside, stood, and marched to her husband’s side. “And pray tell, sir, how else should a woman take your comment? Those came close to sounding like fighting words.”

  He stood as well, his superior height seeming to dwarf her. Before she could step back or say anything further, he chuckled again.

  “I have no interest in fighting with you, my dear. Instead, I’m particularly interested in working with you. Whether we deal with the children or tackle a business soirée, we can do it together.”

  My dear… my dear… my dear…

  His words sent a shiver through her as happy warmth expanded close to her heart. “What is it you plan to contribute to the party preparations, dear sir? Especially, since I don’t see you cooking or sewing or even polishing silver before the coming day—”

  A thought brought her up short. “Oh, Eli! There is that, you know. When do you plan to hold this party?”

  His blue eyes twinkled. “The actual date of the soirée would help your preparations, wouldn’t you say?”

  As she sputtered, he reached out and took hold of her hand, the smile still curving his lips. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I can be a bit of a tease, and I was having fun at your expense there. I’d like us to hold the event on the twenty-fourth of December. The gentlemen plan to be in town over the holiday, and I feel sorry they’ll miss the time with their families.”

  A touch of disappointment struck Olivia. She’d been looking forward to a cozy Christmas Eve supper, an early night for the children, another quiet evening for Eli and her, and then the joyous morning, when they would celebrate the Lord’s birth as a family for the first time.

  On the other hand, Eli was paying her a great compliment by trusting her with such an important matter. “Of course,” she said, her fingers curling into his, her every fiber aware of his nearness and his gentle touch. “We must do whatever we can to help them over the sadness of the separation. Cooky, Mama, and I will treat them to the most charming dinner party they’ve ever attended.”

  His thumb caressed the back of her hand, and another shiver ran up her spine.

  Oh, my!

  What a sensation he sparked off inside her. She’d never experienced such a reaction to any other person. Then again, she’d never been married, had never been this near to a man before. And this was Eli.

  “I have a feeling,” he said, his thumb’s gentle motions doing lovely things to the sensitive skin of her hand, “that your words don’t stem from mere bravado. I suspect you regularly come up with splendid results once you set your mind to something.”

  She squeezed the hand holding hers. “I won’t let you down, Eli. I promise. I only want to help you, to do what will be best for you.”

  As though she’d thrown a cup of cold water at his face, the look of admiration and his caring touch vanished. Her suddenly empty hand hung limp at her side, and she experienced a deep sense of abandonment.

  Dear Lord! Please show me. What have I done?

  Before she could marshal the courage to ask, Eli turned from her and sat back in his chair. “Please see that everything is ready for my guests. It is important, and whatever affects me will, of course, affect you in the end.”

  Olivia didn’t dare comment, now that the friendly, companionable air between them had disappeared. She went to the sofa, gathered Randy’s new dress and her sewing basket, then crossed the room to the door. Before stepping into the hall, she paused, met his gaze with all the dignity she could muster.

  “I gave you my word, Eli. I was raised to always keep my word. It’s who I am before the Lord. You can trust me.”

  Before he could say anything to delay her departure, she hurried down the hall, fighting the sting of tears. As she took the first step up to the second floor, she thought she heard him speak.

  Unless she was much mistaken, he muttered, “I hope that word is good. I certainly do.”

  Worry and a touch of fear took up residence in Olivia’s heart.

  Chapter 17

  Much to Olivia’s surprise, Eli invited her to keep him company after supper the next night as though nothing unusual had happened. At first, they each kept to themselves, he smoking his pipe, she working on Randy’s new dress. After a while, he brought up the subject of the Christmas Eve party, and the awkwardness began to dissipate. Eventually, however, he made a comment that alarmed her.

  “You want to do what?” Olivia’s voice rose, growing panicked and more piercing with every word she uttered.

  “I’m inviting the local tradesfolk, and even some of the farmers from around the area. I don’t understand why you’re so surprised. It would seem the most natural thing. The railroad will help them all.”

  She hoped.

  Olivia caught several stitches on her needle, her gaze aimed down to keep Eli from reading her feelings. “Well then, how many people will we be hosting at your gala?”

  “There will be five gentlemen from the railroad. Besides them, I would like to invite Tom Bowen, Barry Woollery, Reverend Alton, the schoolmarm, Mrs. Selkirk now that her millinery is doing so well, Richard Folsom from the hotel, and even your father and some of his fellow farmers. Their wives, too.”

  Olivia felt the blood drain from her face. “That… many?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Do you think we’ll have a problem? I thought you said you could handle this.”

  “Yes, but… I didn’t know you meant to have most of the town here for Christmas Eve!”

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Did I overstep before talking to you? I’m sure there must be something I can do to lighten your load. Yours and Cooky’s, too.”

  Olivia’s head spun as she considered the tactics such a massive maneuver would require. “There’s so much to coordinate. There are the decorations outside the house, boughs of holly and ribbons, the Christmas tree, and all the different candles—”

  “Is all that necessary—”

  “Of course. You said you wanted a festive Christmas party, didn’t you?” At his nod, she went on. “Then there are the serving pieces and tableware. Do we have enough for that many guests?”

  “I wouldn’t know. You’ll have to ask Cooky—”

  “All those supplies, Eli!” She stabbed the needle into the dress and stood to pace. “How about the food? You do remember we’ve had two failed harvests in Hope County, right?”

  A slight frown creased his forehead. “Well, yes. But I must confess I hadn’t thought about that with regard to our Christmas party. Will it affect—”

  “Will it affect…?” Her voice neared a shriek. “Where do you expect us to find enough food to serve an army? On relatively short notice, at that.”

  It finally seemed to dawn on Eli. “I suppose I must place an order for various foodstuffs from… oh, I don’t know. Would Seattle be better, or maybe Portland?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” She spun and marched across the room toward him. “I don’t even think Mama could help with this part of the preparations. Shops in Baltimore were everywhere, and they were full of everything one could need for even the most elegant gala.”

  “Why don’t you talk to Cooky? I remember Victoria held a number of events, and she always relied on Cooky’s knowle
dge.”

  Olivia nodded. “I suppose she is the one who’ll handle the meal itself, so she should know what we’ll need.” An idea occurred to her. “You know, Eli, Hope County is blessed with various flocks of sheep. Don’t you think a nice roast lamb would be good to serve?”

  He nodded. “Perhaps a turkey, as well. That shouldn’t be too hard to come by.”

  “Not at all.” She ticked off her fingers one by one. “Flour for breads and cakes, eggs, milk, cheeses, dried fruit, carrots, cabbage—things that store well… they shouldn’t pose too much of a challenge either.”

  “Most of that you can find around here, right?”

  “After the drought, I hope so. What if I worked with Cooky to serve our guests a meal that displays the local bounty? Surely the gentlemen from the railroad will want to know what’s available in the area, don’t you think?”

  A broad smile brightened his face. “I think you’re a very wise woman, Mrs. Whitman—as I’ve mentioned a time or two.”

  Pleasure sped through her. “Do hold off a bit on those compliments, Eli. I don’t know yet if I can pull off this particular idea. Cooky and I have to look into what we can get this time of year, and then… well, you can see what you think then.”

  “Fair enough. You mentioned a tree and evergreen branches, didn’t you? Could I help you with those?”

  “That would be excellent. Perhaps you could help me string some wreaths and garlands. Wire—I’ll need it to weave the branches together. You can help me with that, too, since I’m not sure what kind might be best.”

  A crooked smile tipped up the corner of his mouth. “I can’t say I have much experience with decorations and such, but your ideas do make me look forward to getting started.”

  “It’s never too late to learn something new.” She picked up her sewing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find Cooky right away. She and I have a great deal to do if we’re going to have a chance to do this right.”

  “I’d best go hunt out some tools to work on those wreaths and branches and garlands and… well, and any other thing of that sort.”

  Olivia smiled as she headed out of the room. “Well, Eli, it’s only right, you know. The whole thing was your idea, so you should do your part.”