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Oliver

Page 5

by Christine Sterling


  “Owen told me they found you. What a terrible fright you must have had.” Marmee looked at Oliver. “I’m so glad my boys found you.”

  “Yes’um.”

  “My poor dear, let’s get you down from there and inside. I have water being warmed for a bath and we’ll get you something proper to eat. Are you hungry?”

  Willow nodded. “Yes ma’am. I’m sorry about your garden.”

  Marmee waved her hands. “Don’t worry about that none, child. I’m just thankful it wasn’t a wild animal.”

  Oliver lifted Willow down from the horse and then scooped her up in his arms.

  “I can walk,” she said.

  He looked down at her as her arms tightened around his neck.

  “Why walk when I can carry you?” He crossed the threshold and took her directly to the large settee in the living room.

  As he placed her on the sofa, his hands could feel just how delicate she was. He could feel the bones of her back and ribs as he removed his arm from around her. He couldn’t believe that someone would abuse a beautiful young woman.

  “This should warm you.” He placed a quilt over her legs.

  “I don’t want to dirty it. I still have mud all over my legs.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Kitten. It can be washed.”

  “Who’s that?” Alice asked, entering the living room. “And why is she in her drawers? Is that your shirt?”

  Willow quickly pulled the quilt over her legs.

  “This is Willow. I rescued her. She is going to stay with us for a few days.” He ran the words over in his mind. I rescued her. Sounded rather funny when he said it out loud.

  “Rescued her? What is happening here?” Alice demanded. “First Owen. Now Oliver. No wonder Penny went back to Denver.”

  “I don’t mean to intrude,” Willow said, wringing her hands in her lap.

  “Pint Jar,” Oliver warned. He had given Alice quite a wide berth since her return from San Francisco, but he wouldn’t stand for rudeness to a guest.

  Alice huffed. “Well, where is she going to sleep? Pretty soon I’ll be out in the barn with the horses. I mean, Owen brought home Ellie, and now this. I pray Caleb doesn’t find someone.”

  “Alice Louise Chapman! That is enough out of you,” Marmee chastised as she came in the room carrying a tray. “You were brought up with better manners than that.”

  Alice huffed and flounced out of the room, mumbling under her breath.

  “Willow…,” Oliver began.

  Willow held her hand up. “I understand having someone invade your home. It isn’t easy. I’ll just have the tea and a little snack and then be on my way.”

  Marmee put a tray with a cup of tea, a glass of milk and a thick ham sandwich in front of Willow.

  “You must forgive my youngest daughter, Alice,” Marmee said sitting down next to Willow and handing her the plate. “She has had quite the experience, and I’m afraid it has altered her a great deal.”

  Willow pulled the plate with a sandwich onto her lap. “I understand. Thank you for the meal, ma’am.”

  Oliver watched as Willow bowed her head slightly and prayed before picking up the sandwich and taking a huge bite.

  “I heard we had someone join us,” Ellie said waltzing in the room. She took a seat on a chair across from Willow. “I’m Elenore Brooks.”

  Willow swallowed. “Willow Stephens.”

  Elenore clapped her hands together. “What a beautiful name. Are you staying long?”

  “Just long enough to eat.”

  “It looks like you’ve been through quite an ordeal.” Willow rocked slightly, tucking the quilt tighter around her legs. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  Owen walked up behind Ellie and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Willow was staying in the old trapline cabin.”

  “How dreadful. Well, I know we are glad you are here. I arrived under unfortunate circumstances as well.”

  Willow raised her eyebrow. “You did?”

  Ellie nodded. “I came here to marry a man, who unfortunately was killed while I was still traveling. Owen here,” she patted Owen’s hand, “rescued me and brought me to Marmee. And I’ve been here ever since.”

  “I think you boys should leave and let Ellie and I talk to Willow. Then we’ll get her a bath and find her a place to rest.” Marmee turned back to Willow. “Would you like to take a nap?” Willow nodded.

  “Did you find the black?” Ellie asked.

  “No time,” Oliver responded. “We got a little distracted.”

  “The black?” Willow asked.

  “A large black stallion that roams this area. He had a harem of twenty or so mares with him.”

  “Oh. You mean Licorice.”

  “Licorice?”

  Willow shrugged. “That is what I named him. He found me in the woods. I followed him to the cabin and this farm. That is how I found apple trees and vegetables.”

  “You mean you have seen the black stallion?”

  Willow nodded. “I did. He allowed me to pet him. He’s one of the largest horses I’ve ever seen. But then again, I’ve not seen many.”

  “Interesting,” Oliver said, looking at Owen. “Do you know where he was?”

  Willow finished her sandwich. “Uhm, the herd was down where the creek meets the river. There is a patch of grass just beyond the trees.”

  “Are you done with your inquisition?” Marmee asked.

  “We should be back in time for dinner,” Oliver said, placing his hat back on his head and heading towards the door.

  Owen gave Ellie a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you soon, darling,” he cooed. Oliver rolled his eyes as the twins headed out the door.

  Mounting Whiskey, Oliver turned to his brother. “What is that woman doing to you? You’ve turned from being all business to I don’t know what.”

  Owen swung his foot over Winchester and slid into the saddle. “That, my brother, is the power of falling in love with someone.” He gave Oliver a wink. “Maybe it will happen to you, too.”

  Oliver turned Whiskey towards the path leading away from the house. “I doubt that.”

  “What about her?” Owen asked, tilting his head towards the house.

  “What about her?” Oliver scoffed. “She looks like she is younger than Alice and she has been through quite an ordeal.”

  Owen shrugged. “I think she is older than you think. Get her cleaned up, she might be right pretty.”

  “She’s pretty enough.”

  Owen gave a little chuckle. “You are in so much trouble.”

  “I know,” Oliver said softly. “You want to check out where she saw the black? I don’t want to be gone from the ranch for too long.”

  “Might as well. You know, I don’t think any of us have gotten that close, and that little slip of a thing was able to pet it. She probably didn’t realize how much danger she was in.” Oliver nodded. “Want to race?”

  That was all the invitation Oliver needed. “Hah!” he yelled to Whiskey and pointed the horse towards the creek.

  Chapter Six

  Willow watched as Oliver walked out with his brother. She immediately felt his loss, even though she had only known him for a few hours. He appeared to be a most honorable man, and respectful as well.

  She sipped her tea and looked around the room, where Oliver had placed her on the couch. Marmee called it a great room. And the name truly fits.

  The room was large with a kitchen, a larder, a table with at least a dozen chairs around it, a fireplace, and a stove. The walls were crafted from hand-cut logs and held together with a mixture of mud and grass. The room had a warm and airy feeling about it.

  The fireplace was the largest Willow had ever seen. It was crafted from river rocks that created an arch and continued to the ceiling. She could make wonderful meals on a fireplace like that.

  She had a smaller fireplace with a tripod and an iron hook that she cooked off when she was home. It was small with a damper that didn’t fu
nction properly. Sometimes the smoke would go up, other times it would fill the kitchen.

  Next to the fireplace was a wood cooking stove. Willow could see the pots of water warming for her bath. She had never seen such a grand room. Her own home was devoid of any personal touches. As soon as her mother died, her father removed everything that would even remind him of her.

  What she would give to live in a house like this! She didn’t have a plan for the rest of her life. She didn’t even have one for the next few days, so even daydreaming was impossible.

  “Would you like another sandwich?” Marmee asked.

  “No, that’s alright. It was delicious. Thank you.” Her belly, however, rejoicing at the thought of another ham sandwich protested very loudly.

  Marmee laughed. She had a musical laugh, remarkably like Willow’s mother. Willow felt her throat thicken.

  “Don’t fret now, child.” Marmee patted her hand. “I’ll make you another one.” She tugged on the corner of the quilt. “How about you take a bath and when you are ready, come back out.”

  “I’d like that, but I don’t have anything to wear.”

  Marmee blinked a few times. “Ellie, dear, can you help Willow go through Penny’s dresses and find her something?”

  “Of course.” Ellie left the room.

  “I don’t want to take no charity, Mrs. Chapman.”

  “Don’t be silly. Call me Marmee. I can’t have you go galivanting off into the woods just wearing your undergarments.”

  “I had a dress. I just lost it somewhere.”

  “Well, we will get you sorted. Follow me.” Marmee got up and turned the corner to go down a hallway. They passed a room with an open door. Willow peered inside. It was a sitting room of sorts, with a smaller fireplace and a large window that looked out over the plateaus.

  Willow continued down the hallway walking past the needlepoint samplers lining the walls. “Those are pretty,” she said, pausing to look at one. It was a Bible verse followed by the alphabet and a line of acorns.

  “My girls did those.”

  “How many daughters do you have?”

  “Three. Marianne and Penelope are in Denver with their husbands. Alice is still here. And now I have Ellie, so I guess that is four.”

  “Is she married to one of your sons? I noticed her name was different.”

  “I have a feeling she and Owen will be marrying soon. She came here under unfortunate circumstances, but she is a part of my family as if she was my flesh and blood.”

  “That must be nice,” Willow said softly.

  Marmee stopped in the hallway and looked at her. “Young lady, you are welcome to stay as long as you need to. My home is open to anyone in need of a place of refuge.”

  Willow nodded; her throat too thick to speak. She followed the older woman down the hallway to a set of three doors right next to each other. Willow had never seen such an arrangement. Marmee opened the door in the middle and shooed Willow inside.

  “This is my daughter Marianne’s room. Please use it as your own for as long as you stay here.” There are a towel and soap on the bed. I’ll be right back with some warm water.”

  Marmee left the room and pulled the door shut silently behind her.

  Willow took off the quilt and placed it on the end of the bed. She looked around the room. There was a writing desk, a bed with a small table next to it, and a wardrobe. A rag rug covered the hard floor. It was simple and cozy.

  The room was smaller at the door, and larger at the far wall. There was a small picture window overlooking a dirt path leading from the house. Willow walked over and peered out the glass.

  In the far distance, there was a large barn, much larger than the barn where Oliver said they housed horses. Cows clustered around the barn door. She could hear them lowing in the distance. A few cowhands were on horseback moving the cows from one corral into a pasture. She watched for a few more minutes until she heard the door open.

  “Oh, excuse me,” Ellie said, backing out of the room.

  “It’s alright. I was just figuring out what to do.” Willow rubbed her hands up and down her arms, fighting an invisible chill.

  Ellie held a green checkered dress with a lace collar and wooden buttons out. “I thought this color would match your hair.” Ellie placed the dress on the bed, along with a fresh chemise and pantaloons. “Oh, I found this too,” she said, pulling a green ribbon from her pocket.” She looked at Willow intently. “I feel like we’ve met before, but I don’t know where.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anyone in Flat River.”

  “Hmmm. It will probably come to me later. Owen tells me when I try too hard to think about something, I can’t remember it at all.”

  “He seems to be a right gentleman.”

  Ellie sighed, dropping the ribbon on top of the dress. “He is. I’m so lucky that he brought me here. You know he wanted to send me home on the first stagecoach out of town?” She gave a little laugh. “Well, that didn’t happen.” She pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down. “The Chapmans are the finest family I know. They have their peculiarities like any other large family, but each one is exactly how you see them. Honorable and kind.”

  “Did you have a large family? You know, before you came here?”

  Ellie shook her head. “I was an only child. We lived in Atlanta. My father is a banker and my mother ministers to women at the church.”

  “I don’t have a family.”

  “That can change at any moment. Marmee has a way of just pulling you into the fold and soon you realize this is where you want to be. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

  “That sounds nice.” It truly did, even if she was just going to use this place to hide from the Marshal.

  “I’ll bring you a pair of slippers. It looks like you hurt your feet. Boots would probably hurt them.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ellie turned to leave when she quickly turned around. “The stagecoach.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You were on the stagecoach with that man.”

  “What man?” Willow’s eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape. She could probably scramble through the picture window if she needed to.

  “The man with too much pomade in his hair.” Willow panicked. Would Ellie report back what she knew? Ellie must have realized Willow’s discomfort, as she gently placed her hand against Willow’s bruised skin. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through but know that you are safe here.”

  “Here you go.” The door pushed open, saving Willow from having to answer. Marmee came in carrying two buckets, followed by Alice carrying another bucket and a plate with a sandwich. “Alice, put the sandwich on the desk and empty your bucket first.”

  Alice dumped the water in the galvanized washtub, before turning to Willow. “I apologize for my behavior earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  Willow gave the young woman a faint smile. She appeared to be at least three or four years younger than Willow’s twenty-three years. She had golden blonde hair the color of honey, with large blue eyes and a peach-colored complexion. Her eyes didn’t sparkle. Instead, there was something in them that reflected a deep hurt. Almost like a wounded animal. Willow could relate to that.

  “Nothing to forgive. I can’t imagine it is easy to have someone come into your home. Hopefully, I won’t be staying long and then you’ll have your peace back.”

  Alice pursed her lips. “I guess so,” she finally said. “Where did all your bruises come from?”

  Willow instinctively picked up the quilt to hide her discolored skin. “I – I -.”

  Ellie stepped between Willow and Alice. “Willow has had enough excitement for today, don’t you think? She shouldn’t have to answer any more questions right now. Come on, Pint Jar,” she said, placing her arm around Alice’s shoulder and directing her to the door. Willow saw Alice glance over her shoulder as Ellie led her from the room.

  Marmee had finished filling the tub wit
h hot, steaming water. “Get yourself cleaned up and then take a rest. I’ll come to get you before supper.” She left the room without another word, leaving Willow alone with her thoughts.

  She walked over to the tub and dipped her fingers in the water, quickly snatching them back as the water burned her fingertips. She would wait a few minutes for it to cool down. Not wanting to dirty the bedclothes, she sat on the wooden chair and picked up the sandwich. Ham was her favorite. She didn’t get meat too often as the cost was dear, so she savored it every chance she could.

  She took a large bite and moaned as she chewed the thick ham and buttered bread. She finished the sandwich in a matter of minutes and licked her fingers, savoring every crumb. She leaned over to dip her fingers in the bathwater again.

  It had cooled enough for her to get in without being burned. Stripping her torn garments, she picked up the soap and towel. She put the towel on the floor next to the tub and knelt on the coarse material. Leaning over the edge she dunked her head in the water and slathered it with the soap.

  It was such a luxury to have a bath. A tub of warm water cost five cents at Miss Marcy’s. Mr. Blackman refused to pay for Willow to bathe. She was, however, allowed to clean herself in the dirty cool water after one of the soiled doves bathed.

  Having warm water to herself was such a treat. She washed her hair twice and squeezed the excess water from her hair. Sitting down on the towel, she unwrapped the bandages on her feet, hissing as the poultice pulled away from her skin.

  Kneeling in the tub she quickly scrubbed herself. The water turned a murky brown from the blood and mud. Her legs burned as she rubbed soap over them.

  She thought about the events of the day. The handsome man who rescued her, her first horse ride, and having a full belly followed by a warm bath. She never dreamed of anything like this. The Chapmans appeared to be a fine family. Fine families should not be accepting a woman like Willow in their home. After all, she was a murderer.

 

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