Romancing Olive

by Bush, Holly

  When Jacob whoaed the horses, Olive stood up in the wagon.

  “Wait, Olive,” he said. “Let me help you.” He took Mark from her arms and reached his hand up to take hers.

  “Thank you, Jacob. I had a wonderful evening,” she said.

  “Me too. Here, hold Mark. I’ll carry John into bed.”

  Theda held Mary’s hand and Olive kissed Peg and Luke as they slept in the back of the wagon.

  Jacob pulled the door closed to John’s room and nodded to Theda. “Good night, Miss Patterson. Olive, do you want me to drive the two of you to the train station tomorrow?”

  Olive’s shoulders dropped as she realized Theda’s visit was coming to an end. “No, Jacob. Would you mind if I brought the children to your house while I take Theda?”

  “Not at all.” He gave Theda a nod and turned back to Olive. As naturally as Olive imagined he drew breath, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  Chapter Ten

  Olive boiled water for tea once the children were in bed and turned when Theda came into the kitchen in her nightclothes.

  “You love him, don’t you?” Theda asked.

  Olive’s head tilted and she dropped her eyes.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Olive,” Theda said. “You feel about Jacob what we have only dreamt about all these years.”

  “I do love him, Theda.”

  Theda pulled the chair out and poured a cup of tea. She sighed and sipped and looked at Olive. “He’s a good man.”

  Olive smiled and nodded, holding back a whimper. She knew she didn’t need Theda’s approval but once spoken, realized how important Theda’s opinion was to her.

  “He is a good man. Unfortunately,” Olive said and closed her eyes, “he still loves his wife. A charming attribute, Theda. One we value. Loyalty.”

  “But he cares for you. It is clear.” Theda turned her head. “And more importantly, he sees past your age and looks to the wonderful person you are. Who you are. He admires in you all those things we’ve cherished and clung to all these years. There could be no greater compliment.”

  They sat silently until Olive looked at Theda with a wise smile. “I know now, what it feels like to love. And to live. Beyond the reaches of parents and the boundaries of spinsterhood. I won’t go back, Theda.”

  Theda nodded. “And you shouldn’t. You’ve lived more in three months than we did combined for sixty-some years. You must promise to write and tell me every detail. Soar, Olive, and I will watch.”

  * * *

  A steady drizzle set the mood for Theda’s departure. Theda kissed Mary’s cheek and John’s head before they jumped from the wagon at Jacob’s. The two women rode silently, much left unsaid, mostly unnecessary. They sat together on a bench awaiting the train’s arrival and Olive could not look at Theda for fear of crying foolishly. Olive wanted to beg Theda to stay, start her own life, but she knew it would not be so.

  “I . . . I envy you,” Theda said and Olive watched a tear run slowly down her friend’s cheek. Their eyes met and Olive nodded.

  “You’ll give your mother a kiss from me and tell all the neighbors hello,” Olive said and picked up Theda’s hand, suddenly now desperate for more time as she heard the blow of the train coming in the distance.

  “Yes, of course. And you’ll bring John and Mary to visit soon,” Theda said as fat tears rolled down her face.

  Olive nodded and cried and they stood together as the train rumbled to a halt. The conductor stepped down and placed a wooden step on the platform. Theda bent down to pick up her bag.

  “We will see each other soon.” Theda said as she took a step to the train and then stopped, dropped her bags and turned to hug Olive. “I will be long past my prime when I am free, Olive. But you, you can live out all of our dreams,” she whispered in Olive’s hair.

  “I can’t imagine you past your prime, Theda Patterson. And there is someone out there for you. Don’t doubt it,” Olive said and held back yet another sob.

  Theda dried her eyes and stepped up into the train. Olive walked down the platform as Theda found a seat and the woman lifted her hand in a wave. Olive waved back and pressed into memory, like flowers held between the pages of a book, the face of her lifelong friend. They both knew they might never see each other again. This could be a final goodbye and tears streamed down Olive’s face as Theda stared at her, as well, and remembered.

  * * *

  Olive’s ride to Jacob’s was wet and depressing. When she stepped into Jacob’s house he looked at her and stood. He came around the table and held her arms.

  “Theda made the train?” he asked.

  “Oh, Jacob,” she cried and buried her face in his chest. He patted her back and rubbed her arms and Olive cried until she had no more tears.

  “You’ll see her again,” he said softly.

  “Perhaps,” Olive said. “Perhaps not.”

  The children watched from the table as Jacob held Olive.

  “Why are you sad, Aunt Olive?” Peg asked.

  Olive dried her face and sat down beside Peg. “My friend, Miss Patterson, left on the train today. I will miss her.”

  “Oh,” Peg said and leaned close to Olive. “Like I miss you.”

  Olive nodded and smiled.

  “I know what will make you feel better. Start the new book. The one about the boy on the Mississippi. Please,” Luke begged.

  Olive laughed as she looked from one face to another. They can lift my heart as nothing else in this world, Olive thought. Until she felt Jacob’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Maybe Olive doesn’t feel like reading, children,” Jacob said.

  She looked up to him and smiled. “No, Jacob, I think they’re right. Where is the new book?”

  * * *

  “Why are you wearing your go-to-church clothes, Daddy?” Luke asked. “I thought we were going to work in the barn today.”

  “Come on children,” Jacob said.

  Luke and Peg watched their father race frantically around the house. He stopped to look at his reflection in the cracked mirror where he shaved. Jacob touched his cheek where he had cut himself and ran his hand through his wet dark hair. He pulled his neck up and out of the stiff, tight collar of his best white shirt and pulled straight the cuff over his wrists. “Mrs. Steele is going to watch you for awhile today. Are you ready?”

  “Where are you going?” Peg asked.

  Jacob hemmed and hawed. “To see Olive.”

  Both faces lit up and the children raced for their shoes.

  “Why didn’t you tell us we were going to see Aunt Olive?” Luke asked.

  “You two are going to the Steele’s house today. Not Olive’s.”

  Both shoulders dropped in disappointment and Peg asked, “Why?”

  Jacob was afraid of this. He decided to ask Olive to marry him on this Wednesday in July, he wasn’t sure why, but he had decided on that day and had asked Beth to watch the children. He knew Olive would want to tell all the children together of their plans and so was at a loss as what to say to Luke and Peg.

  “Olive and I have business in town,” he told the children.

  “Where are Mary and John going? Are they going with you?” Luke said.

  “Why can’t we go too?” Peg cried.

  “No. John and Mary are not going with us to town. You haven’t seen Bess and Jack for awhile, you’ll have fun there.”

  “Are John and Mary going to see Bess and Jack, too?” Peg asked and twisted her hand in her skirt.

  “Listen, children,” Jacob said and knelt down. “Olive and I have grown-up business to talk about.” He held his hand up to Peg’s mouth before her protest could begin. “I don’t leave you behind very often. But I must today.”

  “Is that why you’re all dressed up and pretty?” Peg smiled and touched the collar of his shirt.

  Jacob looked down at himself, hoping he didn’t look pretty, but agreed, regardless. “Yes, Peg. That’s why I’m dressed up.”

/>   Jack Steele’s wagon rumbled into the yard and Jacob stepped on the porch to greet him. Mary and John were in the wagon.

  “Beth told me to pick up Olive’s kids first,” Jack said and grinned. “Give you some time alone.”

  Jacob nodded and his stomach rolled. His decision, although right, was causing his palms to sweat. Luke and Peg jumped up into the wagon and Mary reached down for Mark. Mary stared at Jacob and he felt uncomfortable with the piercing look she gave him. “Have a good time, children. I’ll be out in a bit to fetch you.”

  Jack Steele slapped the horses’ rump with the reins and called over his shoulder. “Take your time, Jacob.”

  The rumbling of the wagon trailed off in the distance and Jacob found himself alone and still standing in front of his house. He nodded to himself and swallowed and headed to the barn. The day was as beautiful as he had hoped; thinking he and Olive would sit on the porch when he asked her. Ask her to marry him. Once riding, he sighed and spoke aloud to the crisp blue of the sky and the bubbles of white clouds above him.

  “Margaret, it’s time.”

  He knew his Margaret would be smiling and he gave himself one long last thought of her face. Jacob wouldn’t let a new marriage be overshadowed by the haunt of a dead wife and vowed to himself to focus on Olive and their new life. Margaret’s sweet smiling face came to view and closed his throat.

  “It’s not that I would ever forget you Margaret, but I owe it to Olive to think of her now.” Jacob knew his heart was at peace with this decision but he felt oddly obligated to say the words aloud and hoped Margaret could hear the wisdom of his decision.

  Olive’s house came into view and all other thoughts left Jacob as he imagined himself asking for her hand. He cleared his throat and practiced. “Olive, I think it would be best if we married.” No, no. “Olive, we care for each other and get along and I think we should marry.” Better. “Olive, I can’t wait to see you naked.” His eyes opened wide and he watched Olive step out onto her porch and shade her eyes.

  “Jacob, what a surprise. Jack Steele just stopped by and took the children with him. Said Beth had plans for them all day. Where are Luke and Peg and Mark?”

  “With the Steele’s,” Jacob said as his voice hit a high note.

  “Well, isn’t that nice. The children will love it.” Olive’s head tilted. “Are you going to town?”

  “No.”

  “Oh,” Olive said and cocked her head. “You’re all dressed up.”

  Jacob nodded.

  “Would you like some tea?”

  Jacob followed Olive into the house and watched as she poured two glasses. “Sit down, Jacob.”

  “If it’s alright with you, let’s sit on the porch a spell,” Jacob said.

  Olive smiled and led the way. She seated herself on the wicker settee. Jacob squeezed himself in beside her and she moved her skirts and looked at him quizzically.

  “Jacob, is something wrong?” Olive asked.

  “No.” He sat his tea on the porch, suddenly feeling like an oversized bull, dressed for church. He laid his hands flat on his knees and looked out into the yard. “How’s the garden?”

  “Fine,” Olive replied. “I may actually have something to can. Probably just beets but it’s a start.”

  “That’s good,” Jacob said. “My crops look like they’ll do better than last year.”

  Olive’s smiled. “That’s nice.”

  “Prices are going up for corn, too.”

  Olive smiled vaguely.

  “That means I’ll get more money for my crop,” Jacob said and stole a glance at Olive.

  “I’m glad for you, Jacob,” Olive replied and laid her hand on his. “I know how you worry. And farming my land next year will make it even better.”

  Jacob hemmed and hawed and turned to Olive, sat back in his seat and sighed, thinking what a fool he was making of himself. “Maybe we ought to think about working the two farms as one,” he said and turned to her.

  Olive’s brows lifted and the corners of her mouth dropped. “I don’t see any harm in thinking of the two farms that way. If it would be easier for you.”

  Jacob turned in his seat and regarded her intensely. “I don’t mean thinking about the farms as one. I mean the farms being one.”

  Olive shook her head softly. “I’m not sure I understand, Jacob. As long as I own my property and you own yours, they’re not one.”

  Jacob looked down at her hands lying in her lap. He picked one up slowly and kissed her fingertips. When he lifted his head, he met Olive’s bewildered stare. “They’d be one if we married.”

  Olive’s eyes opened wide. She shook her head as if to clear a strange dream and looked up at Jacob. “What did you say?”

  Jacob stood from the settee and awkwardly knelt down on one knee in front of Olive. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this Olive. I think we should marry.” He watched Olive’s face cloud with confusion and a sweet joy come to her face. Encouraged, he continued. “We’ll have a large farm together and be able to make a life for ourselves with the profits. The children miss you and so do I. It will be the best for everyone.”

  Olive’s lip twitched. “It sounds like you’d rather have influenza than small pox. The better of two bad choices.”

  Jacob’s head shook and he hurried to correct a rather uninspiring proposal, consisting of crop prices and disease. “No, no. It’s not like that at all, Olive. I want to marry you. I want to take care of you and help you and I want you to raise my children.”

  “And?”

  Jacob swallowed; knowing he was out of his depths and had no clue as to what Olive wanted him to say. “My Ma was right, Olive. It’s time I remarried. And I can’t think of another woman I’d want to live with and raise my children. Or bed.”

  Olive’s eyes widened. “So, you get a farm, a mother for your children and a warm body in your bed. What do I get?”

  Jacob stood and ran his hand though his hair. “Now wait a second, Olive. You’re twisting my words. Tell me what you want me to say and I will. I want to marry you.”

  * * *

  Olive’s lip trembled and every fear she had known, she swallowed and looked up to Jacob, her heart on her face. She sat silently staring, finally voicing in a whisper what she wanted to hear. “Love, Jacob. I want to hear that you love me. Because . . . because I love you more than life itself.” She watched his eyes widen and she plunged ahead. “I won’t settle for less from you, Jacob. Not anymore.”

  Jacob put his hands on his hips and turned to survey the horizon. “I don’t think I can say that, Olive. Not right now. Maybe someday.”

  Tears poured from Olive’s eyes. Would she risk a life alone, without Jacob, or accept what he offered? But how could she accept less than what she had only recently come to understand. Six months ago she would have turned down Jacob’s proposal in fear of the new. Would she turn him down now, for fear of not having all she had hoped for? She swallowed, knowing there was no turning back. Her life had gone from a blank and unturned page to a richly written world and she was convinced that a story of love was not written by one heart, but two.

  “I love you, Jacob. I love your children. But . . . but that doesn’t mean I will give up a life I’ve just begun, unless you love me as well.”

  Jacob turned back to her. “We’re suited, Olive. Isn’t that enough? I like having you in my home and I think you like being with me. I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t care for you. Respect you. The children miss each other and Mary and John could certainly use a father in their lives. People marry all the time for less reasons than that.”

  Olive stood and went to Jacob and held his hand. “People marry for many foolish reasons. I don’t believe I can. You are the handsomest, kindest, gentlest man, I’ve ever met.” Her head dropped. “I don’t think there is another man on the face of this earth, I would want to spend my life with but I won’t be cheated. I’ve come too far.”

  “So you would rather be alone?” Jac
ob asked.

  “No,” Olive cried but stiffened her back. “Jacob, don’t you see. What I was before, scared and blind, I’m not anymore. I have a new home in a new town and a chance to make a good life with John and Mary. I want what my parents had. They loved each other so dearly. And I deserve it. And you deserve to marry a woman you love.”

  The air was silent and thick as Jacob and Olive understood each other’s denials and the disappointment surrounded them like the humid July air. Olive sat and stared at the landscape unmoving, her chin and heart in her hand. Jacob took a step, stopped and brought his hands to his hips and shook his head.

  “I thought this would make you happy, Olive. I thought, well, I thought,” Jacob turned quickly and tilted his head. “Does this have anything to do with the sheriff?”

  She turned her regard slowly. “Not a thing.”

  He nodded and turned his hat in his hand. “I guess I better be going then.”

  Olive’s lip trembled. Her hope of a loving pronouncement dashed. “Fine, Jacob.” As Jacob climbed into the wagon, Olive hurried into the house, unable to watch his retreating figure as he pulled out of her yard and away from her heart. She awoke, hours later in the descending light of the evening, face down on her bed. Eyes swollen and dry from the hour of crying before sleep rescued her from reality. But the consequences of her decision trickled back through her mind as she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Jacob had come to her, nervous, asking for her hand in marriage. Shaven and shorn and dressed with care for the task of admitting he needed a wife and that she was the candidate.

  She should be flattered. She was. She should be grateful that a man as wonderful as he had deemed her worthy of raising his children. She was. He wants to sleep with me, she thought, he admitted it. He wants to care for the children and for me. Then why was her heart torn in two and of her own making? Because I refuse, Olive said aloud and sat up, refuse to be or have anything less than what I deserve. Olive headed to the kitchen, calming herself with her own declarations. More confident in her decision and herself than ever. But as she passed the screen door and the breeze rattled through it, her eyes were drawn to the wicker settee and the vision of Jacob kneeling before her brought fresh tears and regrets.