by Bush, Holly
* * *
Jacob’s ride home let Olive’s refusal sink deep. His head reeled. He had counted on a shy, happy yes. Not once had he considered she might refuse him. When she had first asked him to declare love, Jacob had not realized that she would not accept less. She had told his mother that she wouldn’t marry for less than love. Why did he think a few months would have changed her mind?
Even as he stepped from her porch, he was sure she would come to him. Accept him for what he was and what he had to give. But the slam of the screen door reverberated through his head and made Olive’s refusal clear.
Fine, then, he thought, if she needs some fairy tale let her read one from a book. I’m no knight in shining armor, no stupid sap with dog eyes and love words. I’m a man and she’s a woman and we care about each other. That should be enough. It is enough, damn her. So what if I can’t mouth some silly words, they’d be a lie. Would Olive want me to lie? Hell no, he shouted aloud as he let his anger consume him. Jacob had himself riled and aching for a fight, better suited for that emotion than the sting his pride took and the hurt his heart felt. He managed to convince himself that her refusal was for the best if she was going to be some lame, swooning girl waiting to hear the words. But his lip trembled and he blinked as he heard in his head her words. Her declaration. For him. ‘I love you, Jacob.’
He jumped down from the wagon when he reached Beth and Jack’s house and the children begged to stay a few more minutes. Jacob stepped into the kitchen.
Beth turned from the sink with a brilliant smile and asked, “Jacob, where’s Olive? What did she say? Did she cry? Did you kneel down?”
Jacob took off his hat and saw Jack eyeing him. “What happened Jacob? You sure don’t look like a man who just asked a woman to marry him.”
Beth’s face dropped and Jacob flopped down at one of the kitchen chairs. He tilted his head and tried to maintain a casual tone. “She said no. That’s it. Probably for the best.”
“She said no?” Beth repeated.
“Yeah, she said no. Anything cold to drink around here?” Jacob asked.
Beth narrowed her eyes. “I’ve got to check on the children. There’s water in the pitcher.”
Jack sat down at the table across from him and stared. Jacob poured his water and sat back down. “How’s your mare doing now, Jack?” he asked.
“My mare’s fine,” Jack replied.
“Good,” Jacob said and turned the water glass in his hand. “How’s your corn coming in?”
Jack smirked a laugh. “Now I know why Beth and Olive think men are jackasses.”
Jacob lifted his brow in response.
“What happened, Jacob?”
“She said no. As simple as that. She said no,” Jacob said and stared out the window.
“No why, no reason, just no?” Jack said.
Jacob nodded. “Yup.”
“Well, what did you say?” Jack asked.
Jacob shrugged. “I told her that I thought it would be best if we married. She didn’t agree.”
“Nothing else happened. You walked into her house, said I think it would be best if we married, she said no and you left,” Jack quizzed.
“Pretty much,” Jacob replied, nodding.
The two men sat silently and listened to Beth call to the children. “Something’s missing. Something you’re not telling me,” Jack said finally.
Jacob stood and ran his hand through his hair. “You’re like an old woman. Prying and wanting to hear every detail.”
“Yeah and you’re acting like a stubborn fool. Something else happened, something you’re either embarrassed or mad about. Don’t try and fool me. I’ve known you too long.” Jack waited patiently, hands folded on the table. “Get on out of here. I’ll get John and Mary home,” Jack said as he walked to the door.
Jacob waited until he heard the turn of the knob in Jack’s hand. “She wanted me to tell her I love her.”
Jack turned slowly and said to Jacob’s back, “So?”
“Well, I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t say it, so she refused.”
Jack shook his head as he came back around the table and waited until Jacob faced him. “You didn’t tell her you loved her?”
Jacob tilted his head and looked away. “I told her maybe someday I could say it. But not now.”
Jack sat down slowly and whistled. “You are a jackass. You don’t think you love her?”
“Hell, I don’t know. How the hell are you supposed to know?” Jacob said.
Jack’s mouth dropped and he held his hands up in the air and shouted, “What a damn fool thing to say. I mean do your palms sweat when you’re around her and does your heart race? Do ya feel like you’re going to melt into the ground when she smiles at you? For God sakes, Jacob, how did it feel with Margaret? You were in love with her.”
Jacob’s head snapped to Jack’s face. His lip twitched and he snarled at his friend. “And she’s gone. Margaret’s gone.” Jacob stood and walked to the sink. He blew breath in a heavy sigh and continued, “I don’t think I could take it again.”
“Take what, Jacob? What are you talking about?”
Jacob turned and shouted, knowing Beth and the children would hear his every word, but unable to stop the pain. “I couldn’t take it, Jack. If I love Olive and she dies I couldn’t do it again.” His eyes glittered and Jack sat back in his chair as Jacob beat his fist on his chest. “I can’t lose someone else. I didn’t think I’d survive after Margaret died. I just worked and lived and tried not to feel. I can’t do it again.”
The air was silent and Jack looked around the room. Everywhere but Jacob’s face. He swallowed and digested the pain in his friend that he had yet to feel. The raw open wound of Jacob’s loss was festering and he was at a loss as to how to help.
Jacob turned to the door, placed his hat on his head and nodded at Jack.
Jack reached out to touch Jacob’s arm. “Just because you’re afraid to love her, doesn’t mean you don’t.”
Jacob’s eyes revealed the pain he had kept hidden, buried from everyone. He nodded and went past Jack, resentful of the pity he saw on his friend’s face.
The children sat quietly with Jacob on the ride home and he was glad. Luke held Mark and Peg stole glances at her father. Jacob brushed the horse and stepped into his quiet household.
“Where’s Peg?” he asked.
“Playing with her dolls in her room,” Luke replied.
Jacob sat wearily down at the kitchen table and held his head in his hand. He had not wanted to reveal his private fears to Jack, but they bubbled out of his mouth before he had had a chance to think. He could not love Olive. The merciful God she often spoke of would snatch her away from him if he did. His head snapped up when Luke spoke.
“How’s Aunt Olive?” his son asked.
“Fine, Luke. Just fine.”
Luke inched towards him, head down and slowly pulled out a chair. “Did you get the big people’s business decided?”
“What, son?”
“The big people’s business. That’s why you went over there, isn’t it? Why Peg and I couldn’t go?” Luke said.
Jacob sat back in his seat and grimaced. “Yeah, it’s decided.”
“Was it about farming Aunt Olive’s land?”
“Something like that,” Jacob replied.
Luke nodded, eyes downward. “Are you mad at us, Daddy?”
“No, Luke, I’m not mad at anyone.”
The boy fiddled with his fingers and looked up slowly. “Are you sad then?”
Jacob closed his eyes, wishing for a few moments of silence and knowing he would not have it until he made some explanation. He leaned forward and folded his hands together, wishing Olive were here to explain a delicate adult subject to an eight year old.
“I asked Olive to marry me today.” Jacob paused and faced Luke. “She said no.”
“Why?” Luke asked.
“Well, it’s hard to explain. When you’re older you’ll understand,” Jacob
said.
Luke sat quietly and his eyes darted from his father’s face to the table. “Doesn’t she like us?”
Jacob shook his head quickly and covered his son’s hand with his own. “No, no. Olive likes you and Peg and Mark, too. That’s not it.”
“Doesn’t she like you?” Luke asked.
Jacob sat back in his chair, heaved a breath and spoke to no one in particular. “She told me today she loved me and you children.”
“Then why won’t she marry you?” Luke whispered.
Jacob knew then he was backed into a verbal corner. “That’s the big peoples part that you won’t understand.”
Luke watched his father for a few minutes then rose from the table. He pulled his shoes on and opened the door.
“Where you heading, Luke? I’m going to heat up some ham in a minute,” Jacob said.
“I’m going to ask Aunt Olive why she won’t marry us,” Luke said.
Jacob jumped from his seat and whirled around. “No, Luke. That’s not a good idea.”
“Aunt Olive tells me big people stuff sometimes. Like why Momma died and why Mark is . . . Mark. She’ll tell me so I can understand.”
Jacob stared at Luke. “What did Olive tell you about Momma and Mark?”
Luke twisted his shirt nervously. “That, that, Mark was in Momma’s belly too long and wouldn’t come out. That Momma tried with all her might to get him out but something went wrong. That it was nobody’s fault. It just happened.”
A lump lodged in Jacob’s throat. “Why didn’t you ask me son? I would have told you.”
Luke looked away. “I don’t know. It makes you sad, though.”
“So you didn’t ask, because it makes me sad?”
Luke shrugged a reply. “It’s alright, Daddy. I talk to Aunt Olive about Momma or sometimes I talk to Momma when I hold my special pillow.”
“Your special pillow?” Jacob repeated.
Luke smiled a lopsided grin. “Aunt Olive found a dress of Momma’s and made pillow covers for Peg and me. I remember the dress. And when I hold the pillow and shut my eyes real tight, I can see Momma at the sink in that dress.”
Jacob’s lip trembled. His own children dealt with their grief better than he. He turned slowly back to his chair and sat, feeling old. A small hand touched his arm.
“It’s alright Daddy. I miss her too. And see, Aunt Olive helped me with that so I figure she’ll be able to tell me why she doesn’t want to marry us,” Luke said.
“Sit down, son.” Jacob’s grimaced as he tried to think of how he could explain to Luke the morning’s disappointment. He turned to his son and said, “I loved your mother very much. I never had anything hurt as much as when she died. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone like I loved your mother. And Olive feels that we should love each other if we were to marry.”
Luke listened with rapt attention. He concentrated and pulled his lips to one side. “Well, since Aunt Olive said she loves you, it must be you that doesn’t love her. And that’s why she won’t marry you?”
Jacob began to nod and heard a sniff from the bedroom curtain. Peg was peeking around the fabric and fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “Then tell her Daddy. Tell her you love her. I want Aunt Olive to be my Momma.” Peg stepped through the curtain, clutching a pillow covered in fabric Jacob recognized. He held out his arms and Peg launched herself onto him and buried her face in his shirt. “Tell her,” she whispered.
* * *
Mary looked suspiciously at Olive when she saw her Aunt’s red and puffy eyes. “What did Jacob want this morning?”
Olive turned hurriedly from the child’s knowing look. “Nothing.”
“He sure was duded up for nothing then.” Mary waited a while and watched Olive scrub dishes furiously at the sink. “What did he want?”
Olive flew past the child to the cupboard never meeting her eye. “I don’t think what Jacob and I discussed is appropriate subject matter for you, that’s all.”
“I thought we were a family now. Talked about everything. I guess not.”
Olive looked at Mary with stricken eyes. “We are a family, Mary. You and John and I.”
Mary stared hard at Olive until she turned away. Olive busied herself at the sink hoping Mary would concede and leave the room. But she never felt or heard the girl exit. Olive’s hands clutched the edge of the sink and she stared out the window as her shoulders dropped. “Jacob asked me to marry him today. I declined.”
Mary whistled softly. “Why?”
Olive’s head tilted. “He doesn’t love me.”
“So?”
“Mary,” Olive said and turned from the sink. “I can’t marry a man that doesn’t love me. I couldn’t live with myself. We all need our pride.”
“What do you mean ‘pride’?” Mary asked.
Olive seated herself across the table from her niece. “Respect for ourselves, Mary. I am worthy of having a man, a husband love me. I deserve it.”
“Do you love him?” the girl asked.
Olive nodded. “Yes, I do.”
Mary sat back in her chair with questions. “So you love him but you won’t marry him because he doesn’t love you.”
Olive looked out the window, chin in her hand and sat quietly with Mary. The girl rose, went to the door and turned back. “Don’t worry Aunt Olive. You’re better off without him. You’ll see.”
* * *
The weeks rolled by as August turned to September. The air was heavy, the ground dry and the nights warm. Olive sewed, read to Mary and John, and missed Jacob and his family. Having rejected him, she lost his children as well and many days she found herself preoccupied with what they were doing while their father brought in the crops. Beth stopped by one afternoon with Bess and Jack Jr. and Olive was thrilled for the company and curious about Jacob.
“How are you Olive?” Beth asked when the children had ventured outside.
“I’m fine. The children keep me busy. It is different than life back on Church Street. There were always neighbors on their porch and I talked to people at the library. It can be very quiet here.”
“You mean lonely?” Beth asked.
Olive smiled. “Sometimes.” She hemmed and hawed, but finally asked Beth what she was aching to know. “Have you seen Jacob and the children?”
“A little. This is a busy time of the year.”
Olive swallowed. “How is he? How are the children?”
Beth shook her head. “Miserable. And as far as I’m concerned he deserves it.”
Olive looked down at her hands. “I never wanted to hurt him.”
“Do you know what he told Jack?” Beth fumed.
“No,” Olive said and shook her head.
“He couldn’t love you because if you died he couldn’t take it.” Beth sat back in her chair and continued, “As if he doesn’t love you. Just because he won’t say it doesn’t mean it isn’t so.”
“He thinks I’m going to die?” Olive asked.
“He’s afraid something will happen to you. Like Margaret. You and I both know Olive, there are no guarantees in this world.”
Olive sighed deeply. She had been afraid of this. It wasn’t as though Jacob may grow to love her in time as she had hoped. He was afraid to love. They chatted awhile longer but Olive was preoccupied with what Beth had told her and only half listened.
“Come by early Saturday, then. Flo will be there. Bring anything you can from the garden and we’ll teach you to can,” Beth said as she settled herself in the wagon seat.
“Alright, Beth. I’ll be there,” Olive replied.
Chapter Eleven
Mary and John were excited to see other children and escape the boredom of the house. They piled their small collection of produce in the wagon and set off early before the heat of the day was oppressive. Olive peeled more vegetables than she thought was humanly possible and by noontime she and Flo and Beth were dripping in the sweltering kitchen. Over the stove, boiling jars and lids and beets and tomatoes, the three
women labored. But the time passed quickly with company and female chatter. The children played in the creek and Olive envied them.
“Come on Ma. Come see the toad that Mary caught,” Jack Jr. shouted through the door.
The woman decided a walk out of the hot kitchen was deserved and wound through the trees in the cooler air until they came to the stream. The children were huddled around Mary in the middle of the low water.
“Come see,” Flo’s daughter Sue said.
Flo plopped down on the moss and undid her shoes. As she rolled her thick stockings down over her legs, she looked up to Beth and Olive. “Nobody’s around. I’m cooling off.”
Beth and Olive exchanged glances and promptly stripped their shoes and stockings as well. Olive held her skirt up and stood in the moving water. “This is heaven,” she called to the other women.
“Well, this is a sight to behold,” a masculine voice from the bank called. The three women’s head snapped around to see Jack, Bill and Jacob, holding Mark at the edge of the water.
Jacob and Olive’s eyes met for the first time since the day of the proposal. Olive’s breath caught on a hitch, and although Jacob’s masculine presence compelled her, she knew she wanted his heart. He looked away and Olive heard Peg and Luke call to her. The children, barefoot already, raced to her through the water.
“Aunt Olive,” Peg cried and clung to her skirts.
Luke attached himself to her other side and she knew then how sorely she missed these children. Peg showed her a skinned knee and Luke told her he hadn’t been sleeping so well. She kissed their heads and pulled the children to the edge of the water. “Let me hold Mark, Jacob.”
Their hands touched with the passing child and their eyes met yet again. Olive looked away first to coo and cuddle the infant. He turned into her and sighed. Luke and Peg were soon playing with the other children in the creek and Olive reached down for her shoes.
“I’ll get them, Olive,” Jacob said.
“Thank you,” she said and looked up to him. The other adults drifted away to the house and they stood staring at each other. “I know things are awkward between us, Jacob. But please bring the children by. I miss them desperately.”
