Oliver

by Christine Sterling

Taking a few large breaths, Willow lifted her hands to her face and cried.

  Chapter Seven

  “Come in,” Willow called softly.

  Ellie popped her head in the bedroom where Willow was resting.

  “Marmee asked me to come and get you for supper.”

  Willow stretched. “I can’t believe I slept most of the day away.”

  “Ollie said you were sleeping at the trapping cabin?”

  Ollie? Willow would have to remember that.

  “I was. I didn’t sleep much at night. I think I was too afraid of what might be outside. Some nights there would be this terrible screaming.”

  “That sounds like a mountain lion. Good thing you are here. You are so brave.”

  “I’m not brave at all.”

  “I think you are. I’m going to take a guess and say you were running from whoever did this to you.” Ellie pointed to the bruises dotting Willow’s arms and face.

  “I honestly don’t want to talk about it.” Ellie’s eyes gazed upon Willow in sympathy. Willow didn’t want her pity.

  “I understand. I won’t press. But if you do need someone to talk to, you may want to talk to Alice.”

  “Alice?”

  Ellie nodded. “I think she has been through something similar.” Willow didn’t say anything. Ellie fidgeted in the silence. “Why don’t I help you into the dress and I can put your hair up in the ribbon?”

  “You would do that?”

  “Of course, I would. Now turn around.” Ellie twirled her finger in a circle. Willow presented Ellie with her back. “Lift your arms.”

  Willow complied and soon she was enveloped in darkness as Ellie shimmied the dress down. Her fingers were getting caught in the fabric and she was finding it hard to breathe. She said so to Ellie.

  Finally, her head popped up through the neck of the dress. “Oh my,” she said taking a few deep breaths.

  “Sorry about that,” Ellie said. “Let’s get the buttons fastened.”

  “Shouldn’t I be wearing a corset or something?” That was one of the things she noticed about the women working at Miss Marcy’s. They always wore a corset to make their waists appear that much smaller.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, no.” Ellie made quick work of the buttons. “Sit down in front of the mirror. I have to say that is the one thing I do like about living out here. There isn’t all the formality such as corsets and bustles.”

  “I don’t know much about women’s clothing. I had one good dress and that was it.”

  Ellie arched her eyebrow. “Even so, you wouldn’t need to wear a corset. You have the tiniest waist I think I’ve ever seen.” Ellie moved behind Willow and placed her hands on either side of Willow’s cheeks, gently turning her to face the looking glass. “You do have the most beautiful hair.”

  Willow watched through the looking glass as Ellie picked up a brush and began running it through the black mane. “Thank you,” Willow whispered. She didn’t receive many compliments, so she didn’t know how to accept them.

  She closed her eyes as Ellie prattled on about the ranch and all her experiences since arriving. Finally, she heard Ellie say, “One hundred.” Ellie placed the brush back on the table and picked up the green ribbon. Sliding it under Willow's hair, Ellie gathered the ends and tied a bow just level with Willow’s shoulders.

  Willow looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look like the same woman. Her eyes had a bit of sparkle to them. Something she had never seen in herself. Her hair was glossy and pulled tight to where it fell down her back. Ellie had managed to create a few curls with her fingers and placed one over Willow’s shoulder.

  She looked rested. Maybe all she needed was tea, a snack, and a nap.

  Isn’t that what happened to Elijah in the Bible?

  Elijah was so angry he wanted to die. And an angel appeared with food and drink and then Elijah slept. Perhaps things turned around after that?

  Maybe God knew she needed to be here with Marmee, and Marmee was the angel that was supposed to help Willow.

  These thoughts played in Willow’s mind as she slipped her feet into kid slippers and followed Ellie back to the great room.

  Alice was already sitting at the table on one side. Owen and Oliver sat on the other with an empty chair in between them.

  Ellie cleared her throat as they approached the table. Everyone stopped speaking and turned to watch the two of them approach.

  Willow didn’t notice anyone but Oliver. He must have bathed because his hair was wet. He wore a red linen shirt with wooden buttons. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. When he realized she was there, his mouth broke into a smile and he scrambled to get up from his seat. He moved so quickly, the chair crashed to the ground. Willow gave a little laugh.

  She watched as he righted the chair and walked over to her.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. “Let me help you to your seat.”

  He offered her his arm, and she gently placed her hand on it. He pulled the seat out between himself and Owen.

  “Ellie sits there,” Alice said.

  “Oh,” Willow replied, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

  “But I’m going to sit over here, next to you today, Alice. How would that be?” Ellie offered Willow a wink as Owen quickly stood and raced around the table to pull out her chair.

  Alice rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “One day, Pint Jar, you won’t find this so annoying.” Oliver scooted Willow’s chair towards the table.

  “Alice, come help me dish out supper,” Marmee called from the woodstove.

  “I can help too,” Ellie offered.

  Willow looked at the table. It was covered in a tablecloth with a tatted overlay. Willow fingered the edge of the fabric that hit her knees.

  “I asked if you felt better now that you’ve rested.”

  Willow turned to look at Oliver. His eyes, which she thought were brown, were more of a hazel color. “Uhm, yes. I do. Thank you very much.”

  He reached over and picked up a breadbasket, offering her a slice of bread. “I’m glad. We went to where you said you saw the black.”

  “You did?” Willow asked, placing a piece of bread on her plate.

  “Here you go, Willow,” Marmee said, placing a large bowl in front of her. It was filled with chunks of beef, carrots, and potatoes swimming in brown gravy. She placed another in front of Owen.

  The dinner smelled delicious. My stews never looked like this, Willow thought.

  Marmee placed a bowl at the end of the table and took a seat. She reached for Ellie’s and Oliver’s hands. “Ollie, will you say the blessing?”

  Oliver nodded and took Willow’s hand in his own. Her hand felt so small as he held it while saying a prayer of Thanksgiving for the meal. His rich voice filled every pore and caused her skin to tremble. The prayer was nothing like the prayers her father would speak at the table. There wasn’t one ounce of fire and brimstone in Owen’s prayer. Willow found herself relaxing as she listened to him speak. At the end of the blessing, he gave her hand a little squeeze, before releasing it.

  Willow picked up her spoon and moved the meat and vegetables around the bowl. She took a bite and let the flavors linger on her tongue. Once she savored the first bite, the rest quickly disappeared from the bowl. She used a piece of bread and sopped up the last bit of the gravy.

  “Would you like some more?” Oliver asked softly. Willow looked at her bowl, but she didn’t want to be greedy. Oliver pushed his chair back and walked over to the stove. Willow followed him with her eyes, watching his every move until he returned and placed a Dutch oven on the table. He sat down and grabbed Willow’s bowl, filling it with more of the delicious stew.

  “I have to head into town tomorrow,” Oliver told the table. He took a slice of bread from the basket and buttered it, sliding it on Willow’s plate. He did the same with a second piece, biting into it with relish.

  Willow stopped the spoon halfway to her mouth. “Town?” She put th
e spoon down, her appetite gone.

  “I need to go see Briggs.”

  “He’s the Marshal, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Owen overheard that the ranch down the way had some cattle stolen.”

  “The Hartmans?” Alice asked. She sounded a little breathy as she said the name.

  “No. The Bergmans.”

  “Oh,” Alice said leaning back in her chair. Willow thought she sounded disappointed.

  “I just want to see if anyone else is having trouble. He can check as he’s making his rounds.”

  “I want you to stop by the church while you are there. I have some quilt squares for Mrs. O’Brien.”

  “Want me to ride with you?” Owen asked.

  “Not unless you want to. I thought you were going to fix the paddock.”

  “What’s wrong with the paddock?” Alice asked.

  “A few boards came loose from the horses knocking into them.”

  “Do you work with horses?” Willow asked.

  “Yes,” Owen answered. “We just trained our third roundup. Got a nice price for them too.”

  “That is why you are looking for the herd, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You can’t…”

  “Kitten, calm down,” Oliver said, placing a hand on her arm.

  “What are you going to do with him?”

  “He’s the type of horse that would allow us to expand our operation,” Owen said.

  “So, you want to take away his freedom? Put him in a paddock?”

  “Finally!” Alice cried. “Someone else understands.”

  “He’s a horse, Alice.”

  “He’s a living, breathing, creature,” Willow responded.

  “I am sorry you feel that way.”

  Willow mimicked Alice and leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, I do.”

  “Let me get these dishes from the table, and let’s have dessert, shall we?” Marmee said, standing.

  “Let me help you, Mrs. Chapman.” Willow grabbed the bowl from in front of Oliver and placed the dishes in a large pot of water that was warming on the stove.

  “Call me Marmee. You don’t have to do those, dear. I’ll get them shortly.”

  “I’d like to repay you for your help today.”

  “Alright. I’ll wash, you can dry. But that will be after dessert.” Marmee walked to the larder and pulled out a plate with a handkerchief over it, handing it to Willow. “Just put those on the table.”

  “Marmee!” a voice called into the house.

  “You missed dinner, Everett,” she scolded as she put out her cheek for a kiss.

  “Sorry, Ma. One of the horses threw a shoe. Split her hoof clean in two.”

  “Which horse?” Oliver asked.

  “That sorrel.”

  “Nice horse. Did you use pine tar?”

  “Just like you taught me.” Everett shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the sofa. He grabbed a bowl and filled it before sitting down on the far side of Alice. “Any bread left?” Willow took the basket and handed it across the table to Alice, who gave it to Everett. “I didn’t realize we had company,” he said, pointing at Willow with his fork.

  “This is Willow. She’ll be staying with us for a bit. Have a cookie, dear,” Marmee said, pushing the plate towards Willow. “Would you like coffee?”

  Willow simply nodded. She’d never had coffee before. It appeared today was a great day for firsts.

  Oliver took a mug from a tray in the middle of the table and placed it in front of Willow. He poured the dark brew into the cup. “Do you need sugar?” he asked.

  Willow shook her head and wrapped her hands around the cup. She pulled the cup closer and breathed in the earthy scent of the coffee. She took a sip and grimaced. The brew was bitter on her tongue. How did people drink anything like this?

  Oliver must have seen the expression on her face as he started laughing. “Have you ever had chicory coffee before?” Willow shook her head. “It has a unique taste, but once you’ve been drinking it for a while you get used to it.”

  “I don’t think I could ever get used to that. It tastes like burnt soup.”

  “Where do you come from, Willow,” Everett asked, eyeing her as he ate.

  “Quite a distance from here. I lived in Missouri at one point.”

  “What part of Missouri? Owen’s been there for the horse auctions.”

  “Just Missouri.”

  “Don’t you know where you are from?”

  “Everett, stop it,” Oliver demanded. “We should probably get your feet looked at again.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Kitten, I don’t have to do anything. I choose to do this. Let’s go.”

  “Why do you call her Kitten?” Everett asked. “You courtin’ her?”

  “Willow can speak for herself. I call her that because when I met her, she fought like a cat. Her claws were out.”

  “Oh. You hurt?” Willow shifted under Everett’s scrutiny. She shook her head. “Looks like you’ve been in a fight.”

  Willow pulled her arms around her. She wished she could slide under the table and stay there. “I guess you could say that.” Oliver looked at her intently.

  “Come on, Willow. Let me see to your feet.”

  “What happened to her feet?” Everett asked.

  “She cut them on some rocks. No more questions, Ev,” Oliver said.

  Willow noticed the coolness in his voice. She wondered what she did to make him upset. Was he the type of man to beat a woman when he was angry? He didn’t appear to be, but then she didn’t have much experience with men.

  “I think it is time for Ellie and me to go for a walk. We’ll be back soon.” Owen put his hand around Ellie’s waist, and they left the room

  Willow allowed Oliver to lead her back to the sofa. She sat as he disappeared, returning a few moments later with a bowl of water and a small box of supplies. He placed his supplies on the table and took a seat next to Willow.

  “Put your foot here,” he said, patting his leg.

  “That’s not appropriate.”

  Oliver laughed. “I think much of today has not been appropriate, but here we are. Now put your feet here, so I can look at them.”

  Willow scooted to the far side of the settee and stretched her feet towards Oliver. He slid off the kid slippers and put them on the floor. Wetting the cloth, he washed the bottoms of her feet and then dried them with a clean rag.

  “What’s that?” she asked as Oliver pulled a tin out from the box. He opened the tin and showed it to her. Inside was a gooey substance the color of night. It looked oily and very thick.

  “Pine tar salve. It will protect your skin while it heals.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Pine. Tar. Salve. Marmee makes it.” He didn’t look at her as he gently applied the black pitch to the bottom of her foot.

  Willow pulled her foot back. “That tickles,” she said.

  “I’ll have to remember that.” He put the tar on her second foot and Willow tried not to giggle. “Don’t move. I need to wash my hands and get some rags.”

  Willow kept her feet in the same position while waiting for Oliver to return.

  Alice came over and sat in the chair next to the sofa. “You’ve been caged, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  Alice lowered her voice so low, Willow had to strain to hear it. “I know what it’s like. To have your freedom taken away. To be beaten to the point where you want to die. I know. I see it in you, too.”

  Alice stood and left the room. Willow could hear the click of the door down the hall. What an odd thing to say. Willow wasn’t sure if she should ask Oliver about it. She decided against it. After all, this wasn’t her family. It wasn’t any of her business.

  Oliver returned with several scraps of cloth. “I couldn’t find any rags, but these will do just fine.” He pressed one of the scraps to the bottom of
her foot and wrapped the other scraps around her foot up to the ankle.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I ain’t ever had anyone take care of me like you.”

  Oliver looked at her. He reached out and ran his finger down her cheek. Willow flinched and pulled back slightly.

  “I won’t hurt you, Willow.” He dropped his hand. “Do you think you can trust me?”

  “I dunno.”

  Oliver nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “You ain’t gonna mention me to the Marshal tomorrow, are you?”

  “If I said yes, you would probably run, wouldn’t you?” She nodded. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you are in, but as long as you remain here at the ranch, you’ll be safe. I can’t promise that if you go beyond the borders of our ranch. But I can promise I won’t mention you tomorrow at all.”

  A small piece inside her knew Oliver was being sincere with his words. Another part wanted to trust him, and the third part of her simply wanted to run away. She looked at the handsome man watching her with hooded eyes.

  If she wasn’t careful, she might want to stay. What was it that Ellie said?

  If you stayed long enough you became a part of the Chapmans, and they became a part of you.

  Could she risk allowing this wonderful family an opportunity to protect her?

  Safe.

  She’d be safe. But what about her heart?

  Chapter Eight

  Oliver left early the next morning to ride to Flat River. Marmee’s quilt squares were tied to the back of Whiskey, and he had Owen’s list of supplies to get from the mercantile.

  The first stop he made was at the home of Reverend and Mrs. O’Brien. He dropped off the squares and managed to avoid conversation with the Reverend.

  Oliver still blamed Reverend O’Brien for Alice’s abduction. A traveling evangelist was visiting the church and filled Alice’s head with tales of missionary trips, saving lives, and adventure. It wasn’t difficult to convince the young woman to run away under the guise of getting married.

  Reverend O’Brien had no clue about the true nature of the charlatan, but the damage was still done. That is why Oliver insisted on knowing as much about the people who came into his life as possible.