Romancing Olive (26 page)

“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?” Jacob 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.

* * *

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.