Olivia and Simon

by Annie Boone

  He nodded. “On them, around them, under them—all of that. It’s what the country needs, after all, with everyone starting travel more. And especially with people coming west. It’s nice to be needed somewhere. Sometimes I just manage folks, or sometimes I do the dirty work myself. I like working with my hands, even if the smell isn’t always pleasant.” There was a deep throated chuckle and Olivia could tell he was growing comfortable just as she was. “But it’s been good to me, I suppose.”

  Olivia smiled and appreciated his hard-working attitude. That was one of the measures of a good man.

  “When I’m not doing that, I’m with my sister on her husband’s ranch. I help out with the animals, and I play with her kids. She’s got a daughter, Frances. That little girl seems to be able to run nearly as fast as a horse. Then there’s little Patrick. He has the loudest laugh. You can hear him across the fields. Such a happy child. Ah, they’re good kids.” He smiled and paused. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

  She noticed that they had gone a good distance around the garden and the barn, and the trail was leading them back to the houses. Wrinkling her nose, Olivia wondered if the night was already coming to an end. “No, of course not. Your family sounds lovely, Mr. James. And you clearly care for them.”

  “I do. And please, call me Simon.”

  “Then you may call me Olivia,” she grinned at him.

  She could feel him gazing at her now. Again. Her heart thumped and it took all her strength not to look up at him. This brought butterflies to her stomach, and that caught her by surprise. Only Jack had been able to cause that feeling. Pulling her coat closer, she focused on the path and tried to think of something to say.

  Yet they walked in silence for several minutes, a peaceful quiet where she listened only to the beating of her heart. “It looks as though the evening has come to an end,” he spoke as they reached the porch. “I’d best be on my way, I’m afraid.”

  Finally she looked up, seeing the Harbins were saying their goodbyes to the Jessups. They had already walked the trail, to her surprise. “Oh, right. It is late, after all. Thank you. Tonight was lovely, and I enjoyed your company. It’s nice to find someone who enjoys the stars as much as I do,” she added thoughtfully.

  “Indeed,” he was quick to return her smile. “Good night, then.”

  “Good night.” Olivia slipped her arm out of his, feeling the chill set in before she wrapped her arms around herself. “It was nice to meet you, Simon.” She turned towards the porch as she heard him clear his throat. So she turned back, and cocked her head, waiting.

  It took him a minute, but finally he took a deep breath and offered a shy smile. “Is there any chance—I mean would you like some company later this week? I’d like to visit again, if you don’t mind.”

  “I wouldn’t mind at all. Friday?” She bit her lip waiting on his reply.

  “Friday,” he nodded. And after a second rush of farewells, the man was gone.

  She helped clean up the supper dishes and then Olivia went to her room. As she dressed for bed and buried herself beneath the covers, she considered the evening’s events and pondered on what this meant. She decided to downplay it all. There was no reason to be excited about making a new friend. She wasn’t ready for anything more. He probably wasn’t thinking about anything other than friendship, so all would be well.

  Chores and her other assorted duties kept her busy during the week. She was learning to cook lately, and that took most of her control. By the time Friday arrived, she had completely forgotten until Susannah reminded her that she was cooking for four that evening.

  “We have a guest?” She asked in confusion.

  The woman laughed. “Yes. Or rather, you do. Isn’t Mr. James joining us, upon your invitation?”

  She flushed in embarrassment. “Oh, right. Yes, of course. Oh!” Then she looked down at her own clothes and realized they were rather dirty, having spent the morning picking vegetables out of the garden.

  It wasn’t the prettiest sight, and Olivia bit her lip. She couldn’t possibly be seen by Simon like this. Sighing, she looked up hopefully at Susannah and clasped her hands. “Do you mind if I…?”

  Susannah shook her head and waved her off. “Of course, of course. Go right along, dear. I’ll set the table. Don’t be long, though. The men are most likely on their way.”

  Heart hammering, the young woman bustled off to her room. Her hand fluttered around her face as she pinched her cheeks and brushed her hair again, wishing it would decide to either stay curled or stay straight, not in between. Once she was in her nicest dress, she fluffed up the edged lace then looked in her mirror.

  She hadn’t dressed up nicely like this for a while now. Touching her dress, Olivia considered how she looked, and thought of Jack. His dashing smile, that dark hair falling across his forehead. She stopped, and considered it for a moment. After blinking several times, she tried to drag him away from her thoughts, and think of Simon instead. It took her several minutes, trying to bring the quiet man to mind. The pattering in her heart faded away with Jack, and eventually she made her way back to the kitchen. She didn’t want to be late.

  Susannah was right that the men were near. Olivia had just finished setting the fresh bread on the table when the women heard the door open and found the two men strolling inside. The taller man moved confidently around the table over to his wife, where the long-haired blonde woman welcomed his embrace and accepted a kiss on the forehead. Olivia dropped her gaze modestly, but peeked over to Simon.

  He was glancing at her as well so she hurriedly looked away, trying not to smile. He looked just as she recalled, but was smiling a little brighter than before. Dinner went well, as Susannah and Lucas drew them both into the conversations. Simon was funny, Olivia learned, and had enough jokes about his failures, his success, and his sister’s family that kept her cheeks hurting and heart light all evening.

  After they finished eating, Simon joined Olivia on the porch, and they watched the stars come out. She wrapped her shawl closer around her as he adjusted their blanket carefully, and sighed. “It’s a lovely crescent moon, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” he agreed. “Last night, I took my niece and nephew out to the mountains. It was rather warm for March, you see, and I bundled them in blankets and we had a wonderful view of the stars. We saw a shooting star, too, just before we returned home. You would have liked it, I think.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “I think so, yes. Your niece and nephew are very lucky to have you. I would have loved to have seen that shooting star. I’ve only ever seen one or two.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “They’re fun children. Next time, I’ll be sure to bring you.”

  The idea made her heart flutter. He sounded so sure of a next time, of a future. Olivia’s gaze dropped. They were already nearly touching, and she could feel his warmth. He was so close. Swallowing, she tried to think of something to say. What did she even want him to know? Olivia realized she wasn’t sure what she wanted either. Wrinkling her nose, it took her a minute to consider her options.

  “I would like that,” she said at last, and looked over to find him watching her thoughtfully. He was already smiling, and she returned it willingly. “Very much,” she added.

  Chapter Eight

  Friday suppers at the Jessups became a tradition for Simon. After the delicious meal, he would enjoy some time with the couple and most particularly with Miss Olivia Foster. They spent a fair amount of time on the porch watching the stars in the sky, talking quietly. She had a soft-spoken voice, one that reminded him of a trickling stream in summer. And she had been a nurse, so she had all sorts of intriguing stories to share, ones that made her tear up and ones that made him laugh.

  A friendship bloomed as they grew comfortable in each other’s presence. He looked forward to Fridays more than any other day, and found himself one Tuesday not wanting to wait until the end of the week to see Olivia again. Besides, Simon had a new shirt to wear and no work for the day. Aft
er gathering his courage, he took two horses and gathered some food before heading over to the boarding house.

  “Oh,” Olivia’s eyes widened in delight when she opened the door for him. “Simon. What are you doing here today?”

  Taking a deep breath, he shrugged. “I thought perhaps you might like to join me for lunch? Unless you’re busy, of course?” He hadn’t thought of that. So focused on creating a delightful surprise for her, Simon suddenly was unsure of this idea he’d gone straight ahead with and not considered anyone else’s situation.

  The young lady looked behind her down the hall, thinking. Her soft red hair was curled around her face, left down and trailing down her bag. She wore an apron with flowers on it, and there was flour or sugar on her face, but he couldn’t tell which. And then when she turned to face him again, she was wearing an even brighter smile than before. “I’d love to. I’m sorry, do come in. Take a seat, and I will return shortly, if that’s all right with you?”

  He nodded eagerly, watching her hopefully. “Yes, yes of course. Wonderful.” Obediently he followed her into the sitting room, taking off his hat and sitting on the edge of his seat. He wanted to say something more, but she waved and hurried off. It was an excruciating seven minutes of waiting, but he endured it for her.

  “Where are we off to?”

  Her presence caught him off guard and he hastily clambered up to his feet, breathless. She had cleaned the white powder off her face, left behind the apron, and even pulled her hair back. Olivia Foster was like a fresh breath of air and he gasped for it. “I, um—I found a spot just two miles closer to town, by the stream… it made me think of you, so maybe that’s a good place for lunch.” He shrugged and offered a smile. “I’d like to take you there, if you like.”

  Following him to the door she picked up her coat. “I see. Sounds lovely.”

  He led her to the wagon and helped her up, wrapping them both in blankets to start on their way. Olivia told him about her day so far as Simon drove them along, and soon enough they landed at their destination.

  Olivia sighed with a smile as she looked around. “Oh, this is lovely, indeed. Look at this view! Unbelievable. Simon, this really is exquisite.” She looked over at him with a cheerful smile and he stopped, soaking it all in until she turned away. His cheeks flushed and he hurried around to help her down. They dug in, talking and laughing as they were lately prone to do.

  When they finished with lunch, Olivia jumped to her feet. “We should take a walk. It’s a lovely day. The sun is shining so brightly and I just love it. Shall we?”

  He hastened to his feet, wrapping up the food and then joining her. Simon offered her his arm, and she carefully looped hers through his as they started off walking. Here in the hills was where the snow had gathered though it was more than he had expected. Their feet sloshed through the soggy ground and it made him chuckle. “I’m afraid I haven’t exactly brought you somewhere dry.”

  Olivia looked over and grinned. “It is rather unfortunate.” Her voice was almost playful as she giggled. “But fabric dries and mud can be washed out. It’s days like this that matter more, don’t you think?”

  He pretended to think about it and nodded. “Apparently you’re not a prissy city girl who gets cranky at the drop of a hat. I like it.” Then he laughed.

  “What do you mean? I may have taken to life out away from the city, but I still have standards, Simon James.” She put her hands on her hips and stared at him with an unwavering glare.

  For a moment, Simon was worried he’d offended her. Then he saw her straight face give way to a smile. Finally, she laughed out loud, stepped forward and pushed him into a patch of mud just a step to his left.

  “Ach! What did you just do?” He stepped out of the mud and started wiping his shoes on the drier grass when he finally found some.

  Olivia took a step back and then another. She had pulled her shawl over her face but he could still see the mirth in her eyes.

  “You think I can’t see you laughing at me? And this is how it’s going to be?” Shaking his head, he marched towards her.

  She squealed and darted away from him. Simon saw the flush of her cheeks and something tingled down his spine. He hurried after her, trying to avoid as much mud as he could.

  They chased each other back and forth for several minutes until in their haste, they ran into each other by a large oak tree. Olivia slipped and grabbed Simon’s arm but he slipped up as well, only managing to keep her from falling under him. He hit the ground hard with Olivia on top of him now. He didn’t even feel the stab of pain from hitting the ground.

  She cried out in his ear, but it was cut short as she landed on him, clutching his arms tightly. Olivia caught his gaze and they stared at each other breathlessly, and suddenly all he could hear was how loud his heart was beating. Surely, she could hear it out in all this silence? Simon looked up at her, those pretty freckles across her face and those sparkling green eyes.

  That’s when he realized that the tingling he had felt along his spine so often lately, was telling him how much he wanted to see what it was like to kiss Miss Olivia Foster.

  As he brushed a little smear of dirt off her cheek, his thumb brushed against her lips and he couldn’t wait any longer. His lips found hers, and for a minute he was certain he’d never tasted anything sweeter.

  Until they pulled away, and Olivia’s eyes widened as Simon suddenly realized what was happening. “Oh dear,” she murmured, and scrambled to her feet. The cold air wrapped around him instantly and Simon stared at the sky, wondering if that kiss had really just happened. He thought his heart would pound its way right out of his ribs. Pulling himself to sit up, he swallowed and looked as Olivia drew away.

  Her cheeks were bright red, much more colorful than her hair. Biting her lip, the young woman wasn’t looking at him, but fiddling with her shawl. She looked anxious and nervous, just as he felt inside. The moment had made him feel so warm, but now something grew unsettled within him, and he hurried to his feet. Simon thought carefully as he wiped the mud off his clothes as best he could, and managed a smile, albeit slightly unsteady.

  Awkwardness in the quiet started to settle in, and he wanted to break it immediately. “You look cold,” he offered finally. “Perhaps it was time I took you home.” He didn’t mean it, not really. They hadn’t even eaten. But Simon didn’t know what else to say, and she looked anxious.

  “Perhaps,” she replied, and nodded sharply. “I think that might be a good idea.”

  He swallowed. She drew closer so they could walk back to their spot, but not enough that they would touch. Simon considered holding out his arm to her, especially since she stumbled twice, but now he was too shy. They were quiet as he cleaned things up and took her home. When he returned to his sister’s, Simon talked little before retiring early to bed.

  That night, Jane came to him in his dreams. He could see the short, dark haired woman standing by the window, watching the sunrise. “Isn’t it nice?” And she turned to him, her eyes dark. “But you never talk to me anymore.”

  “What do you mean, darling?” He reached for her, but for some reason, Simon couldn’t reach her. He walked and he walked, but Jane was never close enough. “Jane? Jane! What do you mean?” He put out a hand, grabbing for her. The floorboards were slick beneath his feet, and he knew he was moving. Perspiration broke out across his forehead, and he started to run. But she never grew any closer.

  “You’re never around. Don’t you care about me anymore?” Her voice reverberated through his bones, shaking him to the core so hard that he woke up in a cold sweat. Simon gasped for breath, looking around to find he was still in the barn. Jane wasn’t there, but dead. She wasn’t coming back.

  Simon could feel her presence there, everywhere, and his thoughts turned back to that kiss with Olivia. A cold feeling of dread slipped down his spine as it all came to him. He had kissed another girl. A girl who wasn’t Jane. What was he doing?

  Biting back a sob, he buried his head in
his hands. How could he hurt Jane like this? How could he be such a fool?

  Chapter Nine

  Susannah had hot sweet apple cider ready by the time she heard the wagon making its way up to the house. Peeking out the window, she saw Simon and Olivia sitting there together, wrapped in blankets, and hopefully closer than when they had left. She couldn’t tell for sure. Her heart thumped excitedly as she grinned, eager to see how the picnic had went.

  It had been a spontaneous activity, not one that she had come up with or suggested. But she had written it down in her notebook for the next time, and her notes included with other ideas of bringing the couple together.

  Turning back to the room, she rubbed her hands together to ensure the place looked cozy enough. Bustling around, Susannah brought out another thick blanket, and then brought over a few filled mugs, steaming and filling the room with a delicious smell. Then she backed away, smiling and satisfied. That’s when the door opened.

  “There you two are,” Susannah started, but turned to find only Olivia there, shivering as she pulled off her muddy boots. The blonde paused, peeking out the window to see Simon and his cart headed down the lane already, just a small figure in the distance. Why hadn’t he come in, she wondered. Disappointed, she turned back to Olivia, wondering if she had missed something. “Oh. He’s leaving already?”

  “I’m afraid so. I’m sorry, Susannah, but I’m quite chilled and would like to find warmer clothes. Do you mind if I lie down for a while?”

  Susannah stepped out of her way. “Oh, I see. Yes, yes, of course,” she nodded, and put out a hand. “Are you all right? Is everything—”

  Olivia nodded, stepping back. “Just fine,” but she kept her head low and sniffled. “I’ll try to return to help with supper.” And then she headed off to her room on the boarding house without another word or look back.