The Letter (Carter Sisters Series Book 4)

by Morgan Dawson

  “I’m glad you did. Oliver went to his shop about an hour ago to finish something for someone. He said he’d be back by lunch.”

  I nod. “All right.”

  We spend the next couple of hours visiting, and Ada shows me the blanket she’d made for Oliver.

  As I begin to help Ophelia and Ada prepare lunch, the door creaks open.

  “Lunch will be ready soon, Oliver.” Ada smiles at him, from her spot by the counter.

  He nods, lifting his hat off his head and hanging it up on a nail by the door. I don’t think he’s noticed I’m here. He has hardly even looked up since he came in the door.

  Oliver sits down at the table and covers his face with his hands, letting out a long sigh.

  I set the spoon down on the counter and walk over to him, resting my hand on his shoulder. “Oliver? Are you all right?”

  He quickly uncovers his face and smiles. “Lydia! I didn’t notice you were here.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Oliver shrugs. “It’s nothing.”

  Ophelia lets out a long breath, drying her hands on a dish cloth. “Lydia’s right. You were rather…troubled when you first came in. Before you knew she was here, that is.”

  “I’m sorry. I was on my way home and met up with father.”

  Ada turns to face him, her hand on her hip. “What’d he say?”

  He hesitantly looks up at me, and I raise my eyebrows.

  He looks away quickly. “Just the usual.”

  Why’s he being so odd about this? Maybe it’s because I’m here.

  I decide to forget it for now and go back to helping the girls make lunch.

  We all sit down at the table and begin eating. Though, Oliver is smiling, he still has a troubled look in his dark brown eyes. They have a dimmed look to them. Sad even.

  After we’re done eating, I help clear up, and Ophelia and Ada begin to do the dishes.

  I dry my hands on the towel and walk over to the table where Oliver is sitting. I reach for his hand, and he smiles up at me.

  “Can we go for a walk, Oliver?”

  “Sure.” He stands, and we make our way outside.

  As soon as the door shuts, I look up at him. “Why are you acting so different?”

  “I’m not sure?” He furrows his eyebrows, smiling.

  “What’d your father tell you?”

  “He just wanted money.”

  I pull my hand out of his and stop in my tracks, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “You looked up at me oddly when Ada asked you what your father had said. Why?”

  The smile slips from his face, and he groans. “He wanted to meet you.”

  “He knows about me?”

  Oliver sighs, taking my hand and leading me over to a bench.

  I sit down beside him.

  “I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want to get you dragged into this mess. But he saw me walking with you that day we saw him by the saloon.”

  “Well, what did you tell him?”

  “Of course, I told him no.”

  I widen my eyes. “Oliver!”

  “What?” he asks, defensively.

  “You told your father he couldn’t meet me? Oliver, I know you love your father, so why are you so embarrassed of him?”

  He sighs. “I’m not.”

  “Well why are you trying to separate that part of your life from me?”

  “Because even if I do love my father, it’s embarrassing. I have to work double in order to keep him out of trouble. And I just thought if he’d rather spend time at the saloon then with me and my sisters, why should he get the opportunity to meet someone as great as you?” He takes my hands in his. “He’s hurt my sisters so much, Lydia. And if he can’t be there for them, he doesn’t get to just come into our lives when he feels like it.”

  “I understand, Oliver. I never thought of it that way. It’s just, he’s your father. The same man who you and your sisters loved so much when you were young.”

  He doesn’t say anything, just looks down at his feet.

  “I was worried, you know? You came into the house looking like something terrible had happened.”

  Oliver looks up at me. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  “Do you want to meet him?”

  I smile, reaching for his hand. “Only if you’d like me to.”

  He nods. “I’ll think about it.” He quickly kisses my cheek before standing. “Let’s continue our walk then.”

  We walk hand in hand down the street and talk the whole time.

  I stop in front of a store and press my hands against the glass. Inside, a cat’s stretched out on the floor, lying in the sun.

  “Lydia?”

  I turn to face him.

  “I love you.”

  It feels like my stomach is folding in on itself. I’ve always imagined the day a man would someday tell me that, and now I’m actually experiencing it.

  A few months ago, I had no idea where my life was going to go. I had no idea who I would even end up with, if anyone at all. And now… Now I think I’ve found it.

  I give him a small extremely pleased smile. “I love you too, Oliver.”

  He leans down to kiss me, and as I kiss him, I realize something. I only have one more task on the list. And I’m meant to go home when I’m done.

  But I don’t think I’m quite ready to leave.

  Chapter 30

  “See you tomorrow.” Oliver waves, walking in the direction of his house.

  The sun is beginning to go down now. I’d spent the whole afternoon with him and his sisters at their house. And then he’d walked me back home. Throughout my day I’ve been thinking about Oliver saying he loved me. I also have been bothered by the fact I’m going to have to go home soon.

  He asked what the next task was, and I told him I had to go to a bridge. It was where my ma met my pa.

  When I get inside, I head up to my room. On the desk are two envelopes. Jane must’ve put them there.

  I sit down and open the one from my family first.

  Dear Lydia,

  We’re all very sorry to hear you were sick. I’m glad you’re feeling better now.

  How are things with Oliver going? I told everyone about him for you. They’re all really happy for you, Lydia.

  What have you done these past few days? And when will you be home? Surely, it’ll be soon.

  Oh, and Bradley told me to tell you, he was right about you and Oliver. And he wants you to name your first child in his honor. Sorry. I didn’t want to write that, but he wouldn’t stop pestering me.

  Anyway, Levi is now walking fully. He’s not very fast, but it’s so exciting. I’ve still been baking a lot. I’m so lonely without you here.

  How are you enjoying having servants? For me, it would be so strange.

  Anyway, there’s not much new here to tell you. But I love you. We all do.

  Love Hazel.

  On the bottom, there’s more of her writing. It’s a little messier than usual.

  Sorry. I thought I was done, but I’m not. It’s been a day since I wrote the last bit, because Pa hasn’t been to post the mail yet. Anyway. Big news. Darlene just had her baby!

  It’s really late. Pa and I just walked back from going to see her. It’s a healthy baby boy. They named him Charles. Oh, how I wish you could’ve seen him.

  He’s a little smaller than Alice and Levi were when they were born. Darlene thinks he was a little early, but he’s doing well. He’s got the same blue eyes as Alice.

  Darlene is well too. She looks tired, but I don’t blame her.

  This is all this time. Love you.

  I feel tears welling up in my eyes and start to fall. This is something I knew would be hard to know was happening while I was gone, but I was hoping I’d be back in time.

  I immediately write back, explaining all I’ve done, and that I wish I could see Charles. I also add, I should be home soon, but I’m not sure when.

  I open the
other letter. It’s from Abigale.

  She explains how she’s been caring for her aunt, about the dance she attended a few days ago. And also how she misses the farm.

  I write back to her and let her know what I’ve been doing since her last letter.

  By the time I’ve finished her letter, it’s quite dark out.

  It’s time for me to go to sleep. Tomorrow I’m going to Oliver’s house early in the morning and then we’re heading to the bridge. When I told him about going there, he asked if he could come along. And I of course said yes. I like having company in this big city and especially his.

  I dress myself tonight. I don’t know where Jane is, but I’m glad to have the chance to have some independence again.

  Hopping into bed and under the covers, I think about what happened today.

  I feel a little sad and confused. I want to go home a lot, but at the same time, I like it here. Oliver and I are in love, and I’ve made friends. The thought of leaving scares me.

  I never thought it would be like this. I thought I’d rush through the tasks in order to get home as quickly as I could, but I’ve noticed I’m trying to go slowly. To enjoy my time here and delay leaving...

  At the final thought of what baby Charles looks like, I begin to drift into a dark sleep.

  * * *

  I arrive at Oliver’s house, and make my way to the door. I knock but the door doesn’t open for a few seconds, until Ophelia appears. Her eyes are rimmed with red.

  “Are you—”

  She cuts me off, pulling me into a tight hug. My eyes widen, resting my head on her shoulder, and hugging her back.

  She begins to cry, and I’m not really sure what to do.

  After a minute or so, she lets go, sniffing. “Sorry.”

  I step inside, it’s dark. Ada is sitting at the table, her hands covering her face.

  “What’s going on? Where’s Oliver?”

  Ophelia’s chin begins to tremble, before she’s crying again. I feel my whole body begin to tremble too, panic gripping my throat. My vision seems to blur and suddenly, this room seems unbearably hot.

  I turn to Ada.

  She looks at me, her eyes full of tears.

  I’m not sure I want to hear the words that are about to come.

  “Just tell me,” I whisper, fear eating me up as I clutch at my bodice.

  Ophelia wipes at her eyes. “Our father was shot last night, Lydia.”

  My eyes widen, and I exhale in guilty relief. I thought something had happened to Oliver. But this is still awful news and I move to pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oliver went to the saloon to try and find out what happened.”

  I hate to ask, but I’m trying to understand. “Is your father…?”

  She nods. “A man came to our door last night. He told us our father had won a large amount of money when he was gambling. Then the person who had lost got angry…and-and shot him.”

  I press my hand gently on her back and guide her to the chair.

  She sits down and sniffs. “My father wasn’t a perfect man, Lydia, but he didn’t deserve that. No one does.”

  I sit down next to her.

  “He spent the years after losing his job, trying to provide for our family. That’s all he wanted, was to provide for us. Even if it was by gambling.” Ophelia shudders. “And I was so cruel to him. I wanted Oliver to just let us pack up and leave him here. Oliver was right all along.”

  And as I sit in the presence of two grieving girls, I imagine how much of a hard time Oliver is having. I run out and tell the chauffeur to return home and to let Anna know I might not be back until late.

  I spend the morning sitting beside Ada and Ophelia. Every now and then they cry. But the rest of the time they sit emotionless. Their gazes distant.

  I get up to make some tea. And when it’s ready, I pour everyone a cup and set it down in front of them. Though, they hardly drink it. They just hold the cups in their hands as if the heat could get rid of the pain they’re feeling.

  I wish I could help them, but I know when someone close to you dies, you just want to be alone with your thoughts.

  I make a vegetable and barley soup and put it on the stove to slowly cook. It’s something easy to eat and gives me something to do too.

  Around lunchtime, Oliver comes in the door, his head hanging low. He slams the door shut.

  I run over to him and pull him into a hug. He begins to cry, and I let him. I don’t let go, until I feel that he’s let most of it out.

  I look up at him. “I’m sorry, Oliver.”

  “Me too.” He wipes at his eyes.

  Taking his hand, I lead him to sit down on the chair beside Ada.

  I don’t say anything as I sit down at the table and allow the family to grieve their loss.

  * * *

  It’s been a couple of hours before anyone says anything.

  I made them a late lunch. A bowl of soup each and some bread and butter.

  They only had a few bites, though, but it’s something in their bellies. And there’s enough to last them for a while.

  “The man who shot him,” Oliver pauses, his voice wavering. “He went to jail.”

  I nod, reaching across the table to take his hands.

  Sometimes, simply being with someone when they’re sad, is enough. At least it is for me, and I will be there for them all through this awful experience.

  Chapter 31

  I stand up from the chair I’ve been sitting in most of the day. “I’d better get back home. Would you like me to come back tomorrow, or would you like some time alone?”

  Ophelia looks up at me. “You can come. It’s been nice having someone here with us.”

  Ada nods.

  Oliver pushes his chair back as I make my way to the door.

  I raise my eyebrows turning to face him. “I can go by myself, Oliver. You stay here with your sisters.”

  “No.” Ophelia scowls at him. “She’s been here with us all day. Make sure she gets home safe.”

  Oliver walks over to me, taking my hand.

  As we step outside, I realize it’s cold out tonight. The sky is cloudy, and the wind is cool.

  He shuts the door, and I look up at him. “Oliver. I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “Thank you for staying, Lydia. It meant a lot to my sisters. And me.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck, and he lets out a long breath.

  “I should’ve let him meet you.”

  I pull away, my eyes meeting his. “It’s okay.”

  “No. It’s not. He wanted to meet you, and I was too embarrassed. He was trying in the only way he knew how, to provide for us. And now he’s gone.”

  “I know, Oliver. I’m sorry. Why don’t you go back inside? I really don’t want you to walk me home tonight. Go be with your sisters.”

  “Okay, I will. But at least let me walk you past the saloon a bit.”

  I nod, understanding his worry. “Okay.”

  I take his hand, and we walk slowly, not saying anything.

  When we near the saloon, I feel his hand grasp mine tighter and our pace becomes a little faster. When we’ve gotten away from it, we stop.

  “Thank you, Lydia.” He kisses my cheek and turns to walk back to his house.

  I watch him walk a little. His head is looking down, his hands in his pockets. This is going to be very hard for their family to recover from.

  As I walk back home, I know I’m going to be in Northwood a lot longer than I thought. Because this family needs someone to be there for them right now.

  * * *

  I arrive back home, and Mr. Owens lets me in.

  Silently, I make my way up the stairs. Josephine comes out of her room as I reach the top of the stairs.

  “Lydia, I have—” She rushes over, but then stops, her smile disappearing. “Are you all right? You look tired.”

  “I’m all right, Josephine. It was just a long day.”

  “Do you w
ant to talk about it?”

  I pause for a few seconds. “Actually. Yes.”

  She follows me to my room, and I explain how Oliver’s father had been shot.

  When I finish telling her, she frowns. “It will be hard for them. They’re lucky to have had you with them today. It’s awful that something like that happened.”

  I nod. “What is it you were going to tell me?”

  “Oh, well, I feel it’s rather a bad time, but I’m getting married. The baker, Steven asked me to marry him today. It’s all thanks to you.”

  I try to smile. This is her special moment. “I’m happy for you, Josephine.”

  She stands. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest.”

  As she shuts the door I lie down on the bed and begin to drift into a deep sleep instantly.

  I dream about Oliver.

  It’s the same moment I was in earlier when Ophelia was telling me what happened.

  Except this time when I ask what had happened, she tells me, “Oliver was shot.”

  I begin to cry, and all of a sudden, I’m at the saloon. Oliver’s on the ground, and I scream. Ophelia is there too, and I watch as she tries to bandage him up. But it doesn’t work. No matter how many bandages she tries to use, the wound keeps growing in size.

  I wake up, sitting straight up in my bed.

  And I know I’m in for a long night. I lie wide awake for a while, but I can’t fall back asleep now. I’m just lying here, thinking about all that happened today.

  After a while, I let out a frustrated sigh and sit up. This is pointless. It seems like a night of weaving is what I’m going to do.

  Tomorrow, I’ll go back to sit with Oliver, Ophelia, and Ada. I will cook for them and make sure they’re well. And I’ll go back there anytime they ask, because that’s what friends do.

  Chapter 32

  It’s been about a month since Oliver’s father was shot. Their family has been slowly trying to accept their father being gone, and also about how they want to live now.

  Oliver’s been spending the month feeling guilty that he couldn’t help him in time, and I always told him he was being ridiculous.