“You do?”
“Yes, with all my heart. Johnny and I have made a life for ourselves here, and we’re completely content. I want that for you too. I hope you and Olivia can make a truly happy life together.”
Robert was moved. “Thank you, Bess. That means a lot to me. I hope so too.”
Chapter Seventeen
After spending an evening with his son chasing frogs, Robert made his way to the small hotel where he stayed whenever he was in town. He’d be taking the morning train to Jefferson City, his final destination. He wished he could stay longer, but Bess felt more comfortable with his visits if they were short, and he was anxious to see how his mother was doing.
Lottie Osbourne, Robert’s mother, was a quiet woman. She’d been driven to it by her husband’s unpredictable behavior. But when he wasn’t home, she’d play games with Robert or read to him, and she’d let him help her make bread. He was actually a very good baker because of that—better than Mrs. Little—but he’d never told her that because she tried so hard to please him.
Lottie had never been given a say in anything having to do with the household finances, and Robert didn’t know if she had the resources to care for herself now that his father was gone. Maybe she’d need to come live with him in Topeka. Maybe . . . he cringed at the thought, but maybe she’d need him to move back to Jefferson City. He would do whatever he could to avoid that—he had moved on, and if he were to surround himself with all the things that reminded him of the person he used to be, he feared he would struggle to maintain the progress he’d made.
And what of Olivia? Would she want to come with him to Jefferson City? He’d made a fool of himself by yelling off the back of a train, but she had never spoken of her feelings at all.
These thoughts consumed his mind as he watched the countryside pass by the train window. There was so much that was still unknown—so many things to find out and resolve. Hopefully, they could all be resolved before Friday, when he’d promised to return to Olivia.
***
Mr. Perry brought his buggy to a stop just shy of the side yard where Olivia and the other girls were doing the laundry on Monday afternoon. He doffed his hat as he approached.
“Working hard, I see,” he called out cheerfully. “Miss Markham, I’ve come to invite you for another evening away from your drudgery.”
“Oh, you have, have you?” Olivia allowed the tablecloth she was washing to slip back into the water. “What sort of entertainment do you have in mind?”
“The play I promised you. Come see it with me.” He glanced around at the other waitresses. “In fact, why don’t you all come? It would be my pleasure to escort such a fine group of young ladies, and we’d have a marvelous time, guaranteed.”
The girls smiled, but didn’t respond, looking instead toward Olivia. “I’m sure they’d love to attend, but I leave that entirely up to them.”
“And you?” His eyes searched hers. “What about you?”
“May we walk?” She motioned with her head, and he followed her around the corner of the building. “You’ve been very kind to me, Mr. Perry, right from the very beginning, but I . . .” She didn’t even know how to say the words that rested in her heart. He had certainly never asked for a commitment, so this wasn’t as though she was breaking off an engagement. What was it, then? Breaking off a friendship?
“But you’re not interested in seeing me again,” he finished for her.
“I’m afraid that’s right.” It did sound a little blunt, but she was grateful that he’d taken the burden off her of trying to figure out what to say. “I’m very grateful to you. It’s just that we’re so very different, and our paths seem to be leading us in opposite directions. I hope you understand.”
“I can’t say as that I do understand,” he replied. “I thought we were getting along quite well.”
“I thought we were too, but I believe I’ve changed in some very fundamental ways.”
“Does this have anything to do with the pastor?”
Olivia hid her smile. “Yes, it does.”
Mr. Perry thrust his hands into his pockets. “You would let him have sway over you after what he did at the picnic? Miss Markham, a man like that is no gentleman. He’s entirely unpredictable.”
“I believe I know exactly what I can expect from him. I assure you, Mr. Perry, I’m entirely safe.”
He shook his head. “I do wish I could talk you out of this. Have things been decided, then?”
“No. In fact, he hasn’t even proposed. But I know where my heart is, and if he doesn’t propose for some time, that will be quite all right with me because I know where I belong in the meantime.” It was such a relief to say that and know it to be true. She did belong. She belonged in Topeka, she belonged at the hotel, and she belonged with Robert. She was wanted and she was accepted like she’d never been before. “If you’d still like to take the others to the play, I’m sure they’d be delighted to go.”
“It wouldn’t be enjoyable without you. Good night, Miss Markham. I hope your life brings you happiness.” With a curt nod, he strode over to his buggy and drove away, whipping his horses a little harder than necessary.
“Poor horses,” Harriet said, coming up behind Olivia.
“Yes. They shouldn’t have to suffer for his wounded ego.” Olivia turned back the way she’d come. “I suppose you’re wondering what happened.”
“No, not at all. We were hiding just around the corner and heard everything.”
Olivia glanced at Harriet, a shocked look on her face. “You were not.”
“We were too. We didn’t want to miss it.” Harriet flung an arm around Olivia’s shoulders. “You did the right thing. We’re very proud of you. Now, come help us finish this laundry, since you keep wandering off and leaving us to do all the work.”
***
When Robert reached his mother’s home, he stood on the steps for a moment and looked up and down the street. Everything was just as he remembered it. There was the tree he had climbed as a boy, now much taller and broader. There was the old well, the church steeple, the song of birds that must have been the great-grandchildren of the birds he listened to when he lived here. He raised his hand to knock on the weathered wood door and heard footsteps coming from inside.
When the door opened, he almost didn’t recognize the tired-looking woman on the other side, but she knew him immediately. “Bobby!” she cried out, throwing her arms around him. “Bobby, you came.”
“Of course I came, Mother,” he replied, dropping his satchel on the porch and wrapping his arms around her in return. “How could I stay away?”
“You haven’t been back in such a long time,” she said into his shirt. “I wasn’t sure if you would come.”
“I was here last spring.”
“Well, that’s always a long time to wait for a visit. I wish you still lived here so I could see you every day. Please, come in.” She took a step back so he could enter.
The inside of the house looked much the same too. The biggest difference was in Robert himself. “Has the funeral already been held?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry about that. The undertaker wanted to hold it as soon as possible because of the warm weather.”
“I understand.” Robert took a seat in one of the chairs near the fireplace and motioned for his mother to join him in the other. “Tell me what happened.”
“Well, he was down at the saloon, of course, and two of the gamblers got into a fistfight. Your father stepped in to break it up, and his heart failed on him. The doctor said it wasn’t a wonder—his heart’s been weak for some time, with all that whiskey he drank.”
Robert closed his eyes for a moment, letting that information sink in. “And how are you, Mother? Are you all right?”
Lottie pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her nose. “I’m doing fine. One of your father’s friends offered to buy the saloon—gave me a fair price for it, too. I asked around to make sure he wasn’t trying to fleece me. I have
enough to live on quite comfortably for some years to come. As far as missing your father goes, well, that’s something I’ll have to work on day by day. He had his faults, but I loved him.”
“I wondered if you’d like to come back to Topeka with me.” Robert took a deep breath, not wanting to say it, but knowing he had to. “Or if you’d like me to move back here.”
Lottie shook her head with vigor. “No, no. That wouldn’t do at all. We’ve each got our own lives, you and I. True, I’d love to see you more often, but I can’t ask you to uproot your life for me, and to be honest, I don’t want to uproot my life, either. I have friends here, and I’ve got what I need. Please don’t worry about me, Bobby. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone out here.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not alone. I just told you, I have friends. And if I change my mind, we can certainly make other arrangements. For now, let’s continue on as we are. I’m all right, son. I really am.”
Her words took a burden off Robert’s heart. “Where is Father buried?”
“The northwest corner of the cemetery by that tree you liked. I was in luck—there was one plot left.”
“Will you go there with me tomorrow morning? I’d like to see it and pay my respects.”
“Of course I will, Bobby. Of course I will. And for right now, let me make you dinner. I have some bread from this morning, and some beans soaking, and I can make all your favorites.”
Robert settled in and watched his mother move around the kitchen, all the familiar smells and sounds of home. His heart was still aching from the loss of his father, but knowing that these small and simple things hadn’t changed helped to soothe his pain. Later, going to bed in his own room did much the same thing. There was indeed a reason why the word “home” was so beloved in every language.
***
Robert walked across the grounds of the cemetery toward the old ash tree in the corner. It wasn’t the best climbing tree, but it gave good shade, and he’d sat there for hours whittling or playing jacks. Sometimes he’d even read, but that wasn’t something he’d ever have admitted to his friends. Now he approached it slowly, noticing how many new headstones had been added since the last time he’d been here. There was hardly room to walk between them in this particular section.
Nolan K. Osbourne. The name suddenly rose up before him, and he couldn’t move his eyes away. He walked toward it as if in a dream, forgetting that his mother trailed just behind him. He could have been alone in all the world for as much attention as he gave to anything around him. That stone made it all real, took away the possibility of this being a dream or a nightmare.
“It was very quick.” His mother’s voice startled him. “They say he didn’t suffer at all.”
“That’s good,” Robert said absently.
“I’d like to walk over to the rosebushes and pick a few blooms. I’ll leave you alone for a minute.”
She’d always known him best. Once she was a distance off, Robert knelt and brushed some fallen leaves off the stone, then continued to stare at it.
“Father,” he said, feeling a little embarrassed to be speaking aloud when no one was there, “I’m sorry I disappointed you so much. I do need to tell you, though, that I’m living in a friendly community, I have a congregation that supports me—for the most part—and I’m doing all the things I longed to do. I hope that wherever you are at the moment, you can see how well I’m doing and know that I’m all right. Leaving the saloon wasn’t the ruin of me, like you’d feared.” He paused. “I love you. I hope you know that. Our differences were just that—differences. I might not agree with everything you did, but I’ll always love you for the man you were.”
He sat there for several more minutes, feeling the warmth of the sun as it filtered through the leaves of the trees. Lottie finally returned after apparently taking the longest possible route to the rosebushes and back. Together, they laid the flowers on the grave and stood there, gazing down, holding hands.
“I love you, Mother,” Robert said at last.
“And I love you. Thank you for coming. Now it’s time to see what life holds for us next.”
Chapter Eighteen
It was Thursday, and Robert wouldn’t be back for another full day. Olivia had dragged herself through the week, trying to stay focused on her work, but she couldn’t seem to stop counting the hours. Abigail and Rachel had tried to cheer her up by helping her make another dress—this one a slightly darker lavender to replace the one that never had come clean of algae—but even new clothes hadn’t pulled her from her melancholy. That’s how she knew it was serious.
The morning train came in, and the passengers were hungry. Olivia was kept busy bringing this table another plate of bread or that table another pat of butter. They were loud, too—so much louder than usual—and she could barely hear herself think.
She had just returned from the kitchen with another plate of bread when she saw Robert standing in the doorway of the dining room. She froze for a moment, wondering if she was seeing things, and then she acted entirely on impulse. She all but tossed the plate onto the nearest table, heedless of the fact that it was the wrong one, and flew across the room. He opened his arms, and she ran right into them.
“You’re back,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“I am,” he replied.
Olivia took a step away, suddenly realizing what a spectacle she’d just made of them both. “I’m sorry. I have work to do,” she mumbled.
“Go, go,” Miss Hampton said, walking up behind her. “You’ll be of no use to me until you two have spoken, so go. Get it out in the air.”
Robert grinned and took Olivia by the hand. “Yes, ma’am, Miss Hampton,” he said before pulling Olivia into the hallway and into the dark recess by Adam’s office.
“You’re early,” Olivia said, looking up into his eyes. She couldn’t believe he was really there.
“My mother is doing remarkably well, far better than I expected,” Robert explained. “I met with the man who bought the saloon, and he seems to be fairly honest. He paid an appropriate amount of money, and I made sure she had saved it safely. After her affairs were in order, I saw no reason why I shouldn’t come home.” He reached out and traced her jaw with his fingertip. “I missed you,” he whispered.
Olivia almost shivered at the tingle that raced down her neck. “I missed you too.”
He took her hand and led her forward until she was standing very, very close to him, and then he slid his arms around her waist. “I meant what I said as the train was leaving,” he murmured.
“Oh? What was that?”
“Don’t try to play coy with me, Miss Markham. You know very well what I said.”
“Oh, you mean the whole thing about loving me.” Olivia’s heart was pounding so hard, it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it. Or maybe he could and just hadn’t mentioned it. “I might remember something about that.”
He brought up one hand and trailed his thumb along her bottom lip. “And what do you have to say about that?”
“I’d say . . . I’d say that you’d probably better kiss me.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Why is that?”
“Because I’m about to kiss you, and that would be very forward of me, but if you kissed me first, it would be quite proper. Considering that you’re the pastor and all.”
“What if I like it when you’re forward?”
“Robert!”
He grinned and pulled her tighter, pressing his mouth to hers. His hands trailed up her back and twined in her hair, and she thought she’d melt through the floor. “Do all pastors kiss like that?” she breathed when he pulled away.
“I don’t know. I’ve never kissed any pastors.” Robert looked a little shaken, which was exactly how she felt. “I could only think about one thing the whole way home from Jefferson City, and that was marrying you. And now that I’ve kissed you, it’s definitely the only thing I can think abou
t. Will you, Olivia? Will you marry me?”
“I’m not really the type to be a pastor’s wife,” she began. When his face fell, she immediately continued. “But I’ll be your wife, and you can teach me about the whole pastor thing as we go.”
Robert pulled her close again and sealed the deal with another one of those incredible kisses, making it very easy to agree when he wanted to set the date for three days hence.
***
The chapel bells rang until they nearly tumbled down from their tower as Pastor and Mrs. Osbourne came out of the building. The congregation cheered and threw flower petals, and Olivia noticed that even Mr. Andrews had a tear in his eye. She’d shed a great many herself. How had she become so marvelously, incredibly blessed?
She’d chosen to wear her simple blue dress for her wedding, something she’d never thought she’d do—she had always pictured herself in yards and yards of silk. She held one small bouquet instead of the cascades she’d always dreamed about. Her ring was a simple gold band, and yet, her heart was so full to overflowing, it caused a physical ache. This man beside her—this good, good man—loved her to the point of silliness, and he loved her for who she was, not what position in society she could help him attain. For their honeymoon, they would be staying in Topeka, and the next fall, they would travel out to Jefferson City to visit Lottie. It wasn’t the European tour she’d always aspired to, but she found that she didn’t care.
When they climbed the steps to Robert’s small house, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her across the threshold, and they both laughed when he accidently ran her arm into the doorframe. Once inside and with the door closed, he set her down, lifted her hat from her head, and ran his fingers through her hair. “Welcome home, Mrs. Osbourne,” he said huskily, and pulled her into his arms once again. If she never went to another party or bought another silk gown, if all she ever did was spend her life loving this man, it would be far, far more than enough.
A Clean Slate (Kansas Crossroads Book 4) Page 12