by Beth Bennett
“I tell you a mystery,” the preacher droned, “we shall not all sleep but we shall all be changed, at the last trumpet, in the twinkling of an eye…” The young woman’s creamy skin on the back of her neck was exposed, and the fly-away curls kept demanding Jackson’s attention. Where was Ollie Overton? He wondered.
“Amen.”
He put his hat back on top of his head and turned to offer his condolences to the family. The delivery of the eviction papers would have to wait until he could rethink the B&O’s position. The papers were drawn up before the passing of Mr. Overton. He doubted the man’s death would make any difference at this point but still, it would be best to wait.
He recognized the two men who had been behind the pepper shot incident. Well, he could set aside his aggravation at them for a moment. A funeral was not the time to confront miscreant behavior. He shook hands and was introduced to Thomas Overton’s sister, an older, heavy-set, woman. She too was dressed in mourning clothes.
Jackson tipped his hat and offered his condolences. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” The young woman who had drawn his attention suddenly stepped in front of Bessie Overton. The woman’s petite stature caused her to tilt her head back as she looked him square in the face.
The black veil could not hide the venom in her voice. “What are you doing here?”
Taking her small hand, she swept the mourning veil up away from her face. Jackson was so startled, his only response was silence. Even though her eyes were red from crying, her face was like morning sunshine. Wide green eyes and soot colored lashes were perfectly framed by a set of arched brows. Her straight nose was sprinkled with the slightest hint of freckles and the bowed, ruby red lips were set in a permanent pout. He tried to gather his wits and make an introduction but the young woman continued.
“I said, Yankee, what are you doing here?”
He squinted. No, it couldn’t be. Still, if her face were smudged with dirt, she’d look an awful lot like Ollie Overton.
She tapped her foot in angry impatience and balled her fists.
Jackson looked closer into the small, obstinate face. “I’m here because…excuse me, but your name wouldn’t be Ollie Overton, would it?”
“Of course it is, you jackdaw. How dare you invade our home on this day of sorrow.”
She reached her small hand back and slapped him across the face. Jackson barely felt the gloved palm but his stupefied silence conveyed his shock.
“Miss Overton to you, Yankee. Now get off our land.” She turned and dismissed him with her back. Several pairs of eyes looked at him with reprimand. He felt his face turning red.
This was an outrage. Ollie Overton was not going to humiliate him in public. “I had intended to wait.” Jackson glanced down but decided to continue on. “I was not informed of the passing of Mr. Overton. However, since you are so rudely determined to throw me off your land, this will be the last chance you have to do so.” He grasped her by the shoulder and forced her to face him. The depth of sorrow in her eyes almost caused him to stop. Almost. He jerked the eviction notice from his coat pocket and thrust it into her hands. “You are to be off this property seven days from hence. The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad have purchased this farm for the price of two years’ taxes.”
He turned in a huff and marched down the hill, satisfied that he had appropriately put Olivia Overton in her place. He was done with her, forever. Invading her father’s funeral, while bad form, was unintended. He should have been enormously pleased but an unidentifiable feeling kept nibbling around the edges of his conscience. Mounting Charger, he made one last look up the hill. Olivia was surrounded by friends and family trying to comfort her. He felt extremely uncomfortable. What was wrong with him? So he had invaded a funeral. He didn’t owe her an explanation. She’d gotten exactly what she deserved. He’d never made a habit of explaining himself to anyone. He only knew that strangely, this time, he wanted to.
Olivia stared straight ahead. The wretched papers declaring her home the property of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad were tossed upon the table. The small crowd that had gathered to pay their respects to Paw were gone. Fried Chicken, Squash, canned goods and rolls covered the stove. At least she wouldn’t have to think about what to cook for several days. Several days…in several days she was going to be evicted.
Bessie was busy slicing a cake and wrapping it in wax paper. “Livie, honey, I know you’re exhausted, but you’re going to have to go down to the courthouse and find out the truth about what that nasty man said to you at the funeral. Try not to worry, you can stay with me, worse comes to worse.”
To Olivia, things had already come to worse. She was so tired. Sorrow wrapped around her heart like a heavy, wet, blanket. The day she was dreading for months had finally arrived. Paw was gone. And now, she didn’t even own the property she had always assumed would be hers forever. She’d never even seen the tax notices.
Bessie set some food in front of her, but Ollie just stared at it. “Livie, more than likely, Tommy had those papers and jes put em away, tending to get to it once he felt better.
“Yes, Auntie, I can’t blame him. His mind was not what it used to be.” She was sure he had intended to take care of the bill but either forgot or just didn’t have the wherewithal to handle it. He had always been so strong. She never had to worry about a thing. Now, he was dead after a long illness and calamity on all fronts was washing upon her shores. Stoically, Olivia got up from the chair and helped Bessie put away the food. She would go to the courthouse in the morning.
Penny plodded to town at an even slower pace than usual. It seemed even their mule felt the impending doom hanging over the farm. Pulling up to the court house, Olivia got down from the wagon and walked inside. She intended to return the mourning dress she had borrowed from Betsy Smith on the way out of town. It was clean and wrapped neatly in paper, tied with a string. The overalls she wore, hung loosely over her small shoulders and the tattered shirt was held together only through the skill of her sewing needle. She thought about the first day that no account B&O Yankee had come to their farm. She had been wearing the same outfit but it had been filthy from farm work. Today, she was clean as a whistle. Instead of stuffing her hair up under her hat, she tied it in two thick braids. They were so long, ends touched her backside.
Her old boots clomped up the steps as Olivia arrived at the clerk’s office. “Hello there, Miss Ollie, heard about your Paw. Awful sorry.” Mr. Grimes looked over his spectacles at her. He sat behind a big important desk and served as the gatekeeper to the records of Clinton County, Virginia.
Olivia stood straight and tried to control her anxiety. “Hello, Mr. Grimes. I need to have a look see at the records to my farm.”
“What kind of information do you need? I’ll help you any way I can.”
“Well,” Olivia looked around. It was early morning, there didn’t seem to be anyone else about. “I was served these here papers and they say the railroad’s gone and bought our farm. All they paid was the back taxes and I’m here to find out what I have to do to fix things.”
Olivia handed over the by now crumpled papers and Mr. Grimes slowly perused each page from top to bottom. She knew the news was not good when he looked into her face.
“I’m sorry, Miss Olivia, but I’m afraid there ain’t nothing you can do. If you hadda caught this even six months ago, there might have been a recourse. Or, if the railroad had given you time to pay first, you coulda fixed it. You see this here seal?” Olivia nodded. “This means it’s already gone through the court system and been approved. Legally you don’t own it anymore and the owner, let’s see…” He glanced down at the papers again. “The owner is the B&O railroad. They can put you off the land anytime they want.”
“They gave me seven days, well, now I’ve got six.”
“Honey, they don’t have to give you that much.” He handed the papers back to her. “What are you going to do? Do you need any hep packing? I’m sure the folks over at the church…”
Jackson Daniels heard a familiar little voice over the stack of records he was currently assessing. It brought him to full attention. His spot behind the half wall of the clerk’s desk gave him a complete view of the little overall covered sprite that stood only feet away. He leaned back in the big oak chair to be sure he wasn’t seen. His heart thumped as he strained to catch what she had to say.
It was terrible. He could see her face over the top of the wall and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was the prettiest little thing he’d ever seen. How in the world had he ever thought this creature a boy? Short-sighted more than once because of his temper, he’d gone and let this little slip of a girl get the best of him. The braids made her look so young, yet, she seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.
The tremble in her voice and the sorrow of her words rang in his ears. “I guess there ain’t nothing nobody can do.” He felt like somebody had stuck a knife in his gut.
Chapter 6
He had no business getting involved. The Overtons had gotten exactly what they deserved. He turned his attention back to the stack of paperwork on the borrowed desk. A little wide-eyed face kept popping into his head. “I guess there ain’t nothing nobody can do.” Jackson hit his desk with a fist. “Damn!”
Mr. Grimes called from the front, “Is everthin all right back there, Mr. Daniels?”
Irritated, he shouted back, “I’m fine.”
“If’n you say so,” responded the clerk.
He tried to put his attention back where it belonged. The stack of land records wasn’t getting any smaller. He stared at a page. Finally, Jackson stood and went around to the front. “What do you know about that little girl that was just in here?”
“Little girl?” The clerk tapped his chin. “You mean Olivia Overton?”
“Yes, the very one.”
“Aww her family’s fallen on hard times, Mr. Daniels. But I woulda thought you already knowd that seeing as how your company’s name is on the paper that’s throwing her off her land.”
Jackson snorted. “They didn’t pay their taxes.”
Mr. Grimes looked accusingly over his glasses in silence.
Jackson continued, “The railroad needed the land for a pass.”
Mr. Grimes looked unimpressed.
“Olivia Overton was a rude little…”
“Well…” Mr. Grimes interrupted, “she’s a cat bird that’s for sure but you gotta hand it to her. Not many full grown men coulda kept that farm a-going as long as she did. Her paw, or rather, her granddaddy been down with the ague for nigh on two years. She ran that place all by her lonesome with just a couple hired hands. I never seen anybody work as hard as she did. Shame I didn’t catch that tax bill. Happens all the time. Taxes don’t git paid but it don’t git brought to the attention of the clerk. Tommy probably got that bill and being sick, forgot all about it. Olivia, poor little thing, I’m sure she had no idea. Well, the railroad certainly got a good deal.” Mr. Grimes went back to the work on his desk.
Jackson squeezed his fists in frustration. “Just how old is that girl?”
Mr. Grimes slowly passed a paper from one pile to the next. “She’s nigh on eighteen, I think. She’s mighty little though, she don’t look it.”
Jackson wanted to leave the conversation alone but he just couldn’t help himself. “Does she have any family, any at all?”
“Tommy’s sister lives up the mountain from their place. She’s old though. Makes a livin caning chairs. I don’t reckon as she’s able to help the girl much. I’m sure she’ll do what she can.”
Mr. Grimes dismissed him with a look. Jackson went back to his desk. Olivia Overton was rude and disrespectful. She was tattered. She was ignorant. He leaned back and stared at a crack in the ceiling. The oak chair gave a protesting squeak. She had taken care of a farm and an ailing grandfather for years. He was responsible for putting her off her farm. His thoughts turned to her lovely face and small form. How was a young woman, all alone in the world, going to make a way? “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Emphasizing the expletive by pounding on his desk, he finally gave up trying to get any work done. “I’ll be back later,” he informed Mr. Grimes.
“I want to know who has legal guardianship over that girl.” Jackson stood ramrod straight in the jail house as the sheriff leaned back against his chair. The man sat behind a battered old desk. He was totally unconcerned. “I would like the courtesy of an answer,” Jackson demanded.
“Well…” The sheriff spit expertly into the spittoon sitting near the pot belly stove. He was whittling on a big fat stick and bits of shaved wood were scattered on the floor. “Her grandpap is dead.”
“Yes, I know that,” Jackson replied.
The sheriff didn’t seem in any hurry to help. “I reckon, nobody. She’ll go live with her aunt and if that don’t work out, she can join the hurly burly girls down at the saloon. That’s what happens when a woman, all alone, falls on hard times.” The sheriff continued to add to the pile of wood shavings on the floor. “Sides, what do you care? Word around town is, you the one that done it to her.”
Jackson stared out the window. This was a one horse, backwater town. He was beginning to regret ever being given this assignment. His anger had gotten him in this predicament, however, and he was going to get himself out. He wasn’t about to be haunted by the face of Olivia Overton for the rest of his life. He rubbed the worry frowns on his forehead trying to rid himself of the image of her dressed as a whore sitting on the bar of the saloon.
Jackson eyed the sheriff. “Where should I inquire as to the question of guardianship?”
The sheriff hit the spittoon again. Ping. “I ain’t never heard tell of anything like this afore. I guess you oughter go talk to that lawyer feller down on First Street. You know, over by the assayer office? Down by the…”
“Yes, I know the place. That’s exactly where I shall go. I will inform you, should I need your assistance in the future.”
“You make sure you do that. And Mr. Daniels, good luck.”
Jackson snorted as he stuffed his hat back upon his head. The sheriff’s words dripped with sarcasm. He guessed he deserved it. Not hesitating once an idea came to his mind, Jackson headed straight for the law offices of A.P. McDaggett.
Lawyer McDaggett’s building had seen better days. The floor planks needed fixing and the paint was peeling. The sign hanging from the porch looked like the next wind might whisk it off its rusty hinge. Not one to be thwarted from his mission, Jackson pushed his shoulders back, turned the door knob, and walked through the front door. The man sitting at the cluttered desk, looked as tattered as the building. He peered out of one eye, the other was half-closed in a permanent droop. His eye brows were so long Jackson thought he might have combed them backwards to cover the top of his balding head.
“Are you A.P. McDaggett?”
Grinning broadly from behind his white mustache, the man stood and shook Jackson’s hand. “Alowishous P. McDaggett, at your service. How can I hep you?”
“I’ve got a proposal and I need a lawyer to do it.”
It was with A.P. McDaggett in tow, that Jackson Daniels appeared on the porch steps of Bessie Overton’s mountain cabin the very next day.
They were greeted with a suspicious look. “What are you doing here Alowishous? Ain’t seen you round my place in many a year.
A.P doffed his hat and nodded up and down, holding it over his heart. “Bessie Overton, as I live and breathe, I ain’t seen you in a month of Sundays. Why, Goldsboro would be a might brighter town had you graced it with your fair form.”
“Shut-up, you old fool. What are you doing up here on my mountain?”
Jackson raised his eyebrows, these two seemed more intimately acquainted than he expect
ed.
Bessie leaned against the screen door. “I see you brought somebody with you.” She looked at Jackson with undisguised disgust. “He’s a no account railroad man. Stands to reason you’d be in such company.”
Undeterred, Alowishous bowed low and swept his hand in front of Jackson. “Now, Bessie, this here is Mr. Jackson Daniels of the mighty Baltimore and Ohio Railroad.” Bessie looked angrily at Jackson when he tipped his hat. Alowishous rushed on. “Well, ain’t ya gonna let us in, woman?”
“That man put my Livia off her place. What’s he coming round here for?”
“Well, now, we’ve got a proposal for you, and I ain’t of a mind to stand out here on the porch, jawing about it.”
She pushed the screen door slightly open. “I reckon you can come in.”
Jackson was relieved they’d at least gotten through the front door. So far, he hadn’t been all that impressed with Alowishous P. McDaggett’s negotiating abilities.
Bessie motioned for them to sit at the rugged kitchen table. To her credit, she listened intently as Alowishous stumbled through Jackson’s proposal. Jackson grew tired of the awkward attempts and decided to make his own case.
“Ma’am. I am trying to right a wrong, pure and simple. I am afraid I let my anger get the better of me where Olivia is concerned. Unaware of her Grandfather’s illness and of his recent passing, I had already gone through with the purchase of the Overton farm by the time I was informed. My actions have placed her in a terrible position. A position I wish to rectify.” Jackson took a deep breath, and barged on. “I find that I am unable to proceed without trying to correct the situation. I would like to propose that I become Olivia’s legal guardian until the age of twenty-one. After which time, she shall be allowed to choose the path her life should take.”