On impulse, she reached over and touched his coat sleeve. “Why don’t you call me, Olivia?” She offered a truce of sorts.
He stared at her hand, not moving or speaking. She tried again to offer friendship. “I’m sorry about your brother’s death, Mr. Garrison. This is certainly an unexpected turn of events. For both of us. And so tragic. I will miss your brother’s frolicking banter—”
He jerked his arm away from her hand and glared at her. “You act as if you knew my brother, Miss Palmer. You didn’t. How could you know the pain and suffering he struggled with beneath that ‘frolicking banter’ you so glibly describe.”
Olivia was shocked at the ferocity of the man’s words, but she saw the pain behind his words and tried again to offer her friendship. “I only knew the man he portrayed to me in his letters. And, he told me about his wife, Tessa. Again, I was under no illusions your brother was in love with me. None at all. Nor I he. We both needed something from the other and in that sense, our union was a perfect match.”
The arrogant ass from the train returned once more, aiming a condescending sneer in her direction.
“A perfect match, you say? And what would you call our union, Miss Palmer?” His gray eyes resembled cold steel as he studied her.
“I’d say we have an unholy match, Mr. Garrison. I am not blind to the fact that I have made a deal with the devil.” Olivia watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I’m not a naive young debutante with stars in my eyes, sir. I’ve spent all of my twenty-five years in a school designed to harbor the sad little children no one else wanted. I’m used to being dismissed and discarded, so your disdain for me has no prick at all to my feelings. None. At. All.” She clipped her words to emphasize their meanings.
Olivia stood and faced the man. It made her feel more in control to rise above him. “I suggest you find a new tactic if you want to force me out of this contract. This one is so obvious, it’s pathetic, but equally ineffective. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding to prepare for.”
Mrs. Hanover entered the room as her words died off. “Yes, we certainly do have a wedding to plan for. Sarah is already busy preparing the food. Some of the members of Creede’s Ladies Auxiliary Club will be coming to help set everything up. They are so excited to meet Creede’s new school teacher. Now let’s get upstairs and get that beautiful dress of yours ready, shall we?”
Olivia gave her groom a parting glance. “Don’t be late for your own wedding, Mr. Garrison. It wouldn’t set a good precedent for the marriage to follow.”
She gave him a sweet smile for Mrs. Hanover’s benefit, but she could tell by the set of his jaw he had gotten her message loud and clear. She would not be bullied out of this arrangement. She took her obligations to Christopher and Madame Wigg seriously.
She had fired a warning shot over his bow. It was up to him to concede. Otherwise, there was a war looming ahead. One she had no intention of losing.
“Let’s get you upstairs and into a bath. Then we will do something with your—” The woman hesitated.
Olivia laughed at her gracious hostess’s attempt to kindly describe her riotous curls.
“It’s alright, Mrs. Hanover,” Olivia assured the woman as she followed her down the hall toward the staircase in the front of the house. “It’s best we just pin it up as usual. It’s much less traumatic for all of us that way.”
“Now, now. Remember? You were to call me Aggie.” The woman reminded her as she bustled Olivia down the hall toward the stair case.
Olivia smiled and nodded. “Yes. Aggie.”
A knock at the front door was followed by a rush of people. Grace and John entered the Hanover home followed by a flock of children. It wasn’t hard to pick out Christopher’s children in the mix.
One little blonde-haired girl about the age of three was surrounded by four dark-haired children. Two boys. Two girls. They ranged in ages from six to three. They were all just as Christopher had described them. And now they were hers.
“Oh my.” The reality of becoming a mother to four little children punched Olivia in the gut. Her breath rushed out of her lungs leaving her slightly breathless.
“Uncle Chance. Uncle Chance.” Olivia heard the chorus of children’s voices call out in unison. She turned to follow their path down the hall where their uncle was standing.
Christopher’s children collided with their beloved Uncle Chance—their new father, and her new groom.
Chance Garrison looked stunned to be surrounded by all these children. It was a sight to see—a grown man terrified of a group of little children. Olivia giggled behind her hand.
The two boys latched on to their uncle’s legs. He froze when his two nieces begged to be lifted in the air. He shot a look to the group of women as if asking what to do.
Grace started to rescue him when Olivia stopped her. “Let me. I might as well introduce myself to the children, don’t you think?”
The pompous man she had just left in Mr. Hanover’s office was gone. In his place, was a man completely out of his element. And she was completely in hers.
She smiled and greeted them in her best school teacher voice. “Hello, children.”
The children lined up by height as if by rote. “Who are you?” the tallest one asked.
“I’m Olivia Palmer. Have you heard that name before?” She wanted to see if Christopher had mentioned her to his children before her arrival.
“You’re our new school teacher. Papa—” The little boy stopped short and clamped his mouth shut.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I heard about your father’s death. I know you all miss him terribly, and I’m so sorry for your loss. But, your Uncle Chance and I are here to take care of you. So don’t any of you worry about one thing.”
Olivia watched the children’s faces to see how they processed her message. They all remained impassive, but she knew in time, their grief would seep through their caution, and she would be there to help them through it, the poor dears.
“Why don’t you tell me your names? No, wait. Let me guess. Your father has told me so much about you in his letters. I feel as if I know you already.”
She pointed to the oldest boy. “You are the oldest and your name is Charles. You were named after your father’s middle name. And, you are six years old, so you are in the first grade. I’ll bet you can read and write already.”
Olivia watched the boy preen in front of his siblings. “I’ll be in the second grade if we can get another school built. Our other one burned down.”
Olivia smiled. “I heard about your school. That’s another reason why I am here. To help rebuild your school. Won’t that be exciting? A brand new school.”
Four dark heads bobbed in unison. She continued with her introductions.
“And this beautiful young miss is...don’t tell me.” Olivia teased them and pretended to ponder the mystery. “You are Amanda. And you were named after your grandmother—your father and Uncle Chance’s mother. And you are every bit as beautiful as your mother was.”
“How would you know that?” Chance questioned. She had forgotten he was standing there.
“I told you, Christopher and I wrote to one another often. We knew each other as well as two people can through letters. He told me of his wife, Tessa, and how much he missed her.”
She could tell she had shocked him with that bit of information. She had told him that before. Perhaps now he would believe her.
Olivia turned back to Amanda. “And you are five now. You will be getting ready to start to school in August.”
“I want to learn to read and write. Charlie thinks he’s so smart because he can and I can’t.” Amanda turned to her older brother and stuck out her bottom lip in a full-on pout. It was adorable.
Olivia then turned to the smallest of the boys. “Ah, and you must be Evan—named after your Uncle Chance’s middle name. My, but you have grown since your father sent me your picture.”
“Are you really going to build a new school? How can
a lady build a school? Do you know how to use a saw and a hammer?”
Olivia squatted in front of the boy. “No, but I have a very good education and I know how to organize men who do. Besides, your father and I made a pact before he passed that we were going to rebuild your school and I have an obligation to uphold that pact. Education for you children was very important to your father. He knew the importance of learning. That’s why you should all study hard and learn about new things. It helps a person grow.”
She shot a pointed look to their uncle still standing above them. His dark look told her he got her message.
Evan’s face frowned in puzzlement. “You mean I’m gonna get taller if I learn?”
Olivia laughed at the little boy’s literal take on her words. “No, but your mind will grow and that’s much more important.”
She moved to the next child and tweaked the youngest girl on the nose and smiled when the cute little thing giggled. “And you are Tara, aren’t you? You were named after your mother’s mother.”
“I’m three.” The little girl struggled to hold up her fingers, so her sister helped.
“What’s a pack?” Charles asked.
“A pact? That is when two people make an unbreakable agreement to do something,” she said.
“Or not do something,” Chance interjected.
“I suppose that could be true, but I prefer to look on the positive side of things, so I’m here to get things done and to take care of you children.”
“Are you our new mother?” Amanda asked.
“Yeah,” Charlie spoke up. “Do we have to call you Momma now?”
Olivia thought about the question before she answered.
“No, I can never replace your mother. You can only have one mother who gave you life. But, I can be your caretaker and your very best friend. Friends are good, right?”
The children nodded, dark heads bobbing in syncopated movements.
“Then I say we shall be the best of friends. And you can call me Olivia. Wait, better yet, why don’t you call me Ollie? That’s what my friends at school used to call me. Would that be okay with everyone?” She was addressing the children, but in reality she was letting their uncle know she wasn’t asking for his permission. She didn’t need it.
These would be her children after today’s wedding ceremony and no one was going to override her decisions regarding their well-being. And that included their arrogant ass of an uncle.
* * *
Three hours later, Chance stood in the Hanovers’ parlor next to the big rock fireplace. Beside him was his friend, John Malone, who served as his best man just as Chance had done for his brother when he married Tessa.
He’d never seen this day coming, that much was certain. Even if he had found someone to love, he wouldn’t have imagined this day without his beloved brother standing beside him.
Someone cleared their throat to get his attention. The preacher stood in front of the fireplace with his bible open. “I’ve received word the bride is ready. Are you ready to get married, Mr. Garrison?” The portly man questioned him in a gentle voice as if he would spook if spoken to too sharply.
He wasn’t ready for any of this, but did he have a choice? Mr. Hanover said he did, but in reality Christopher’s children were depending on him for their safety and security. He would burn in hell before he walked away from this agreement and left them to this stranger.
He still didn’t understand what Chris had been thinking when he made up this will. Did Chris know he was going to die? Perhaps he left a letter or something explaining the reasons for his actions.
An elbow nudged him in the ribs. “Chance, everyone is waiting.” John whispered to him. “Are you alright?”
He looked up at his giant friend and then turned and glanced around the parlor. John’s wife, Grace, and her two sisters, Charity and Hope, were sitting in the front row of chairs bookending his nieces and nephews alongside the Malone’s daughter, Abbie Rose.
Liam, his wife Faith, Hiram and Aggie were sitting just behind them. The rest of the room’s occupants were a blur of spring colored dresses and men’s suits.
He cut another look toward his brother’s children in the front row. Hell’s fury would rage before he walked away and cheated them out of their happiness. They had already been through so much.
“Mr. Garrison? Is there a problem?” The reverend’s soft words pulled his attention back to the task at hand.
“I’m sorry, Reverend. No, there’s no problem. I was just taking it all in. A man wouldn’t want to forget the details of his wedding day, now would he?”
He felt John’s relieved sigh beside him. His best man whispered and slapped him on the back, “Good answer.”
The reverend seemed relieved too. “Very well, then. Let’s begin.”
Someone began to play music on Aggie’s organ from the corner of the room. The tune was familiar but Chance couldn’t place it at the moment. His mind was whirling like a windmill in a wind storm. He thought it odd he didn’t feel panicked as the marriage noose tightened around his neck. Perhaps it was the same for a criminal in a hangman’s noose. Reality just sort of slipped away leaving no feelings at all.
He didn’t feel anything. Not even the nervous energy that usually kept him up at night when he should be sleeping. Not the familiar sense of entrapment at the thought of losing his freedom. Not even the anger he used as a shield to protect him from the shock of Chris’s death.
As mysterious as it was surprising, Chase felt a calmness settle over him the moment his bride came into view. The sight of her in her wedding gown stole his breath from his lungs in a rush of air.
His best man’s subtle “wow” didn’t help the matter any. She walked toward him with an easy grace and her eyes, dark green like the pines on the mountain, met his. A bolt of desire for this stranger punched him in the gut and all points south.
His bride came to stand beside him, her fragrance familiar, yet foreign. And it had the same calming effect on him now as it had on the train when she slept against him.
“Chance, please take Olivia’s hand and repeat after me. I, Chancellor Evans Garrison, do hereby take Olivia Elizabeth Palmer as my lawfully wedded wife....”
Chance repeated the words as instructed.
“To have and to hold from this day forward,” the reverend continued.
To have and to hold. Chance’s mind conjured a place where naked limbs were tangled in sheets of white silk. Red-faced he repeated in a low voice, “To have and to hold.”
Chance shot a look at his bride’s porcelain profile. His eyes traced the delicate lines of her neck, the soft curve of her cheek, and up to the top of her head where a mound of dark curls adorned her head. It took every ounce of will he had to keep from reaching out and touching the soft curls framing her flawless face. What the hell is happening to me?
“Now, Olivia, please repeat after me.”
Her voice was soft and steady as she repeated her vows. Soon, the reverend asked for the rings. Chance’s heart punched against his ribs. Rings? He hadn’t even thought about rings.
“Here you go, Reverend.” Chance heard his best man’s deep voice announce. He looked up in surprise to see John passing two gold bands over to the reverend.
He looked to John in question. “Chris had your parents’ wedding rings in his personal effects. Mr. Hanover thought you might want to use them for today’s ceremony,” he whispered to Chance over his shoulder.
He turned and nodded to Hiram who smiled and nodded back. That crafty old fox had a solution for everything.
The reverend placed both rings in the crease of his open bible and blessed them, then the man handed his mother’s ring to him.
“Chance, please place this ring on your bride’s finger and repeat after me: with this ring, I thee wed.”
Chance took his mother’s ring in hand, taking a moment to remember the woman he lost so long ago. The ring was so small. Would it fit Olivia’s finger?
He slippe
d the gold ring on Olivia’s finger and was surprised to see it fit—perfectly. A chill ran up his spine. He looked into his bride’s eyes. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
He noticed her cheeks pinked in a very becoming blush.
The reverend handed Olivia his father’s gold band. “Olivia, please place this ring on your groom’s finger and repeat after me: with this ring, I thee wed.”
Olivia’s small hands held his as she pushed his father’s ring on his finger. He was surprised how well it fit. He had always imagined a ring given in marriage would pinch, but that would have meant there were feelings involved. He and Miss Palmer had no such delusions.
Dark green almond shaped eyes fringed with extraordinary dark lashes looked up at him. “Now that wasn’t so painful, was it?” she whispered.
She was mocking him. Before he could respond, the reverend said “I now pronounce you man and wife. Mr. Garrison, you may kiss your bride.”
Chase was used to having women fall at his feet. It was both a blessing and a curse. But at this moment, he had never wanted to kiss a woman more than he did his new bride.
He turned to Olivia and released her hands to pull her against him by her upper arms. The feel of her soft skin beneath his hands hit him hard. His eyes dropped from her expressive eyes to her soft bow-shaped lips. He watched them part in anticipation of their kiss. Now this he was used to.
He gave her a satisfied smile and bent down. Before he could press his lips to hers, she stepped up and pecked him on the cheek. Her tactics caught him off guard. By the time he realized what she had done, she had stepped away and turned to their audience.
The reverend’s voice cut through his disbelief. “May I introduce you to Mr. And Mrs. Chance Garrison.”
His new bride pulled his hand into hers and turned them toward their wedding well-wishers, never once looking directly at him. But the satisfied grin on her face spoke volumes. He had been beaten at his own game and his bride knew it.
Chapter 6
Olivia pasted a smile on her face and nodded at everyone’s best wishes for the happy couple. It was almost more than she could bear. She wasn’t good at pretending.
Olivia’s Obligation: The Alphabet Mail Order Brides Page 6
