Romancing Olive

by Bush, Holly

  “Goin’ to leave us with her, huh, Jacob?” Mary asked.

  “I’m going out to plow. Send the boys when they’re finished with their studies,” Jacob said.

  * * *

  The next day Jacob took the boys to the fields and Olive stood in the kitchen in her chemise as Mary pinned a skirt around her waist. Olive held her arms up and Mary struggled to follow her aunt’s instructions. The facing to a waistband to a seam and Mary stabbed Olive in the side for the tenth time.

  “Ouch,” Olive said. “Yes, that’s where to pin it, Mary. Make sure you catch the facing.”

  Mary and Peg and Olive’s heads turned as they heard a rumbling in the yard. “See who it is, Peg. Get ready to close the door and latch it if it’s not someone we know,” Olive said.

  Peg peeked out the door and shouted, “Grandma!”

  “Oh, dear,” Olive said. “Mary can you hurry and get that pinned. I’m not dressed.”

  “Hang on, Aunt Olive, I’m almost done.”

  Peg was jumping and shouting on the porch as sweat began to run down the underside of Olive’s arm. “Quickly, Mary.” When Olive looked up to the doorway, she saw a woman, a large woman holding Peg.

  “What in the Sam Hill’s going on here?”

  Mary jumped and dropped the pins and the fabric from Olive’s waist. Olive stood still, took a deep breath, and as she did the unfinished garment made a slow descent to the floor. She refused to be cowed, though and graced the woman with a pleasant smile even as her face reddened.

  “You must be Mrs. Butler. I’ve heard so much about you. Won’t you come in?”

  “I reckon I will. Seeing how this is my boy’s house,” the woman said and narrowed her eyes.

  Olive excused herself and hurried behind the curtain of her bedroom. She quickly dressed and combed her hair. Olive listened through the curtain as Peg tried to explain who Mary and Olive were.

  “Her mommy and daddy got killed and Daddy went to get them and this is Aunt Olive. She lives here.”

  This massive woman stood hands on her hips nodding and looked up to Olive as she came around the curtain.

  “Don’t rightly get all that. Who are you?”

  Olive held her hands folded at her waist and explained to Jacob’s mother who she was and how she came to live with her son. “And so you see, I am building a home of my own and my niece, Mary and my nephew, John and I will be moving soon. I hope we won’t interfere with your visit.”

  “You always stand around the house half naked?” Mrs. Butler asked.

  “Well, no, Mrs. Butler, I was making myself a new skirt and Mary is learning to sew. It just took us a little longer than usual.”

  Up until that time, Mrs. Butler had fired so many questions Olive’s way that she had not noticed a young woman stood behind the massive female replica of Jacob. “Please come in. I’ve made some iced tea since it’s so warm. Would you like some? Or would you?” Olive asked Jacob’s mother and the other woman.

  “This here’s my neighbor’s sister’s girl. Audrey. I brung her for Jacob.”

  “Brought,” Mary said. “Brought her, not brung her.”

  Olive’s eyes widened and she glared at Mary. Her niece returned the look with a sly smile. And then the woman’s words sunk into Olive’s brain. The rosy faced girl, no more than seventeen, tilted her head and smiled.

  “Pardon me?” Olive said.

  “I brung her for Jacob,” the woman said and stared at Mary, lifting a brow. “Been more than a year since Margaret died. Time he was getting a new wife.”

  “Oh,” Olive said. “Has Mr. Butler met Audrey before?”

  “Nope.”

  Olive looked at the girl. She was a darling thing but appeared far too young for Jacob or marriage or anything but dolls. And she seriously doubted Jacob would appreciate his mother’s interference.

  “Audrey, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Jacob’s home,” Olive said.

  The girl began to reply but Jacob’s mother spoke first. “Look around, girl. This’ll be your house and this Peg here your youngin’ till Jacob gets you carryin’ one of yer own.”

  Olive’s eyes widened at Jacob’s mother’s comment and watched the girl blush furiously. “Please sit down or look around if you’d like,” Olive said.

  “You been helpin’ look after Jacob’s youngins’?” Olive nodded and the woman continued. “Well, then I guess I’m in yer debt. Lookin’ after my grandchildren. I’m Martha Butler.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Butler,” Olive said.

  “No need for the ‘Mrs.’ I spect. Don’t spose we’re but a couple a years apart. I’m in my forty-second season. How ‘bout you?”

  “I’ll be thirty-six this June.” Martha Butler graced Olive with a huge smile.

  “I’m real good at guessing a body’s age. Pa said it’s a gift.”

  “Is grandpa coming?” Peg asked.

  “No, darling. He waved goodbye and plopped down to take a week’s nap while I’m gone. I don’t go in for laziness and Zeke Butler can be a son of a gun if someone’s not watching him.”

  Peg inched close to Audrey. “Want to see some kittens in the barn?”

  The girl smiled widely and held her hand out to Peg. Mary harrumphed and followed them. She leaned close to Olive and whispered, “I can take her if you want me to Aunt Olive. She wouldn’t look nearly so good with a black eye.”

  Olive’s eyes widened and she shook her head at Mary.

  “Let me help you bring your things in, Martha,” Olive said.

  “Me and the girl’s just got one poke a piece. Let’s set a spell.”

  Olive sat down and watched Martha Butler as she lowered herself into a seat. The chair groaned in time with the woman and Olive noticed work-worn hands, clean but callused lay flat on the table. The woman’s calico dress was high necked, worn and serviceable. Martha Butler’s thick black hair was streaked with gray and was wound tight into a neat bun. Although Olive knew it was none of her business, she could not resist asking.

  “Does Jacob know you were bringing Audrey for him to court?”

  “Court? Who said somethin’ about courting. I’m planning to have ‘em married ‘fore I leave. That boy’s waited too long to get hitched. This girl’ll give me some more grandchildren, right quick,” Martha said and winked.

  Olives’ mouth opened in a half smile. “What if they’re not suited? I mean, what if Audrey doesn’t like Jacob or Jacob doesn’t care for her?”

  “She’ll do fine. Built to breed, that one,” Martha Butler said and winked again but then sat back in her chair and scowled as she stared at Olive. “You have your eye on my boy?”

  “Why, no,” Olive said, quickly.

  “Good. Not that there’s anything the matter with ya. Ya seem like right good people, coming for your niece and nephew and helping out Jacob.” Martha smiled at Olive and continued, “I can tell about folk. But, hell, get to our age, a woman don’t want some young buck chasing us around, now do we?” Martha Butler chuckled and sat back in her seat.

  “I didn’t know Jacob was interested in having more children.”

  “Oh, he’ll be interested alright,” Martha said and grinned. Olive smiled wanly and Jacob’s mother continued. “Now don’t get me wrong. I know he may not like the idea at first but he needs a wife. A farmer needs a wife to care for the youngins’ he has, to clean his house and cook his meals. It’s a hard life and my heart aches that he’s been struggling alone. That’s why I’m right thankful you were here. To help my boy.”

  Olive could not deny the woman’s reasoning. She had seen first hand the work involved with a farm and she often wondered how Jacob managed it all. And she could tell Jacob’s mother spoke from the heart. She loved her son and worried over him. Apparently Martha Butler had come up with a solution for his problems.

  “Jacob has been very kind to me as well. Allowing me to stay here with the children.”

  “What happened to your brother?” Martha asked bluntly. />
  Olive told the unvarnished truth and looked up to find Martha regarding her.

  “Them kids watched their ma get killed?” she asked.

  Olive nodded.

  The woman whistled and shook her head. “Don’t seem right sometimes what happens to some youngins’. Luke and Peg and Mark with no mama and your brother’s kids seeing the ugly in this world so young. No it don’t seem right.” The woman looked away but turned back to Olive. “But who are we to question the maker? If the Lord intended them children to go through what they did then he must a had a good reason.”

  Olive nodded on the woman’s wisdom. “I’ve asked myself the same question time and again. All I can try to do now is make a home for them and love them.”

  “You’re a wise woman, Olive Wilkins. Too bad yer past yer prime. You’d be a good one for my Jacob.”

  Olive cringed but Martha smiled genuinely at her and she knew the woman meant no insult. Her reasoning was obviously built on the experience that a hard life had brought.

  “You don’t think Audrey is a bit young for this life? For marriage?” Olive asked.

  “Naw, I was half a year younger than her and had a baby and fifty acres of rock for a farm. She’ll do fine. Her families’ hard workers.”

  Olive realized Jacob might feel exactly the same way. Why wouldn’t he want a young, strong, and buxom girl to cook and clean and sleep in his bed? Loving him and being the right mate for him were two different things, Olive supposed. Martha Butler’s no nonsense reasoning were why families survived here. Hopefully Audrey could make him happy and coax a smile from his lips once in a while. And Jacob would be kind to her, Olive knew. He would help her get adjusted to life here on the farm and to the children, just as he had done for Olive. He would try to ease Audrey’s worries as he had done for Olive so many times. He would kiss her tenderly and stroke her arms and pull her tight to him, Olive imagined. But she could go no further in her mental musings without bringing tears to her eyes. She was awakened roughly by shouting from Luke.

  “Grandma!”

  “Here boy, come give me a kiss. You look so much like yer Daddy when he was yer age, it brings tears to my eyes.” Martha gathered the child to her chest and looked over to John. “I hear yer name’s John. Good Bible name. Come here boy. Don’t be shy. I’m Luke’s granny and I got enough room on my lap for the two of you.”

  John stood still and stared at the woman. He inched over to her and Martha ruffled his hair. He shyly stepped closer and allowed her to lift him on to her other knee. Martha smiled up at Olive and Olive returned the smile.

  Olive noticed Jacob stood in the doorway.

  “Ma.”

  “Jacob. That’s no way to say hello to yer ma. Get on over here and give me a kiss,” Martha said and then turned to the two boys on her lap. “He thinks he’s too big for that but yer never too old to kiss yer ma. I’ll take him over my knee when he stops.”

  The boys giggled, wide eyed and Jacob leaned down to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got here, Ma. I was planting the last of the fields.”

  “No you ain’t sorry, boy. Don’t lie to yer mother,” Martha said and chuckled. “I didn’t expect find a naked woman in yer kitchen, though. But Olive and I did fine. Had a nice chat.”

  “Mary was fitting a skirt for me when your mother arrived,” Olive explained.

  Mark’s cries stirred the adults and Olive reached into the crib for the child. He drooled and his head tilted into Olive’s shoulder. She cooed in his ear and laid him back down to change his diaper. When Olive stood with the child, clean and dry, Martha reached her hands out to hold him. The boy’s scooted from her lap and Olive watched tears form in Martha’s clear green eyes. Jacob’s mother held the child fast and closed her eyes.

  “God gives us burdens. Yes, he does.”

  “Mark is no burden, Ma,” Jacob said and reached for his son.

  Martha glared up at him. “Leave his grandma hold him for a minute, Jacob. And even though you won’t admit the boy has problems, the rest of us know.”

  “He’s my son,” Jacob bit out quietly.

  “Don’t ya think I know that. I know he’s yer son and ya love him and I do too, even if his birthing took his mother. But that don’t mean I won’t admit the child has problems.” Martha looked up to Olive. “You got sense about ya and you’ve been livin’ here. You know the boy’s got troubles nobody can fix.”

  Olive sensed this was an argument that had been aired before. The room was silent and Olive was careful of her words. “Yes, Martha, I know Mark has problems.” Martha nodded and turned to Jacob as Olive continued, “But I don’t think talking or dwelling on them will fix them. Mark was a gift from God just like Luke and Peg.”

  Jacob looked up to Olive and met her stare. He appreciated her defense of him and she knew he did, without a word passing between them.

  Martha Butler watched the two of them and stood up, handing Mark to Olive. “Luke, run out to the barn and fetch your sister. There’s a woman with her I want your father to meet.”

  Martha Butler turned from her son and asked Olive what was started for supper. Olive admitted that she hadn’t begun the meal and Martha sent Jacob to her wagon for her bags and a box of canned goods she had brought. Jacob set the box on the table and turned as Peg and Mary came through the front door with a young blond girl.

  “Jacob, this is Audrey Hooper. Mary Hooper’s younger sister. Say howdy,” Martha said and smiled.

  The girl stood at the door and stared wide-eyed at Jacob. Her eyes fluttered and she said, “Hello, Mr. Butler.”

  “No need to call him Mr. Butler, girl. Jacob will do. Didn’t I tell you he was a good-looking one? Handsome, my boy is,” Martha said.

  “Hello, Audrey,” Jacob said and turned back to his mother. “What’s this about, Ma?”

  “Just needed company on this trip. Ya know I’m not as young as I used to be, Jacob. Just wanted some company.”

  Jacob’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “That’s all it better be, Ma.”

  “Did ya see the kittens, girl?” Martha asked.

  Audrey’s eyes lit up. “They’re so cute. Can we. . .I mean will you be. . .I mean I hope you keep them all.”

  “Take one with you when you go home, Audrey,” Jacob said.

  Martha turned to the stove. “Audrey, take the youngin’s outside for a spell, while I talk to my boy.”

  The children inched their way to the door, hanging on every word and Olive shooed them along. “Come along children. Mr. Butler and his mother need some time to talk. Let’s show Audrey the swing your father built.”

  “Don’t go Olive,” Jacob said.

  “I don’t want to intrude,” Olive said from the doorway.

  “Let Olive go with the children, Jacob. This is between you and me,” Martha said.

  “Olive stays or we don’t talk,” Jacob said, never turning from his mother’s regard.

  Martha Butler stared back and then shrugged her shoulders. “Suit yourself.”

  “Why did you bring that girl, ma?” Jacob asked.

  Martha glanced at Olive’s back where she stood at the sink. “Cause its time, Jacob. Time for you to get a wife.”

  “I’ll decide when it’s time for me to get a wife.”

  “No, I don’t think so. You’re still grieving over Margaret and she’s dead and gone a year. A nice young girl will make you forget,” Martha said.

  Jacob’s head snapped up. “I’ll never forget Margaret. Don’t ask me to.”

  “Well, for pity’s sake, Jacob, I ain’t askin’ you to forget but this farm life is hard. I know. You need a helper and someone to warm your bed,” Martha said.

  “Ma!” Jacob shouted.

  “What?”

  “Olive is a lady. Don’t be talking about that kind of thing in front of her,” Jacob said, red-faced.

  “And yer own ma ain’t a lady? Listen here, Jacob, just cause we’re ladies don’t mean we’re not women, wit
h blood running through our veins,” Martha said.

  “Ma, Olive’s a sp . . . has never married,” Jacob said quietly.

  Martha Butler turned her large body in the chair. “Just cause yer acting like ya ain’t listening, don’t mean you ain’t. You got sense, Olive, turn around here and tell Jacob he needs a wife.”

  Olive turned slowly and looked at Martha Butler. “I don’t think your or my opinion really matters in this affair. Jacob must decide on his own when and if to remarry.”

  “I know that, Olive. But I’m saying, just saying, it’s time Jacob thinks about it. Don’t you think it’s time?”

  “I don’t know, Martha,” Olive replied.

  “Isn’t a year and more, time enough?” Martha asked.

  “I think everyone’s different. I think Jacob loved Margaret dearly and who’s to say he’ll ever stop loving or grieving for her.”

  Martha Butler sat silently and shook her head. “You think that a body only gits one chance in this life to love or be happy? I don’t. You seem like a smart one, Olive. Do you think we only git one chance?”

  “I believe in a merciful God. I can’t imagine One who would deny someone love to see them grieve.”

  “See there, Jacob. Olive agrees with me and she said it awful pretty too.”

  “Do you think it’s time for me take another wife, Olive?”

  Martha’s questions tore at the very heart of Olive’s grief. She raised her head to Jacob’s question and the feel of his eyes on her. She stood silently, opened her mouth to speak and closed it quickly. From six feet away, she felt Jacob’s presence around her, as though they stood entwined and alone.

  Olive’s lips were pale and her speech halting when she replied. “I don’t think convenience or the want of a helpmate are good reasons to marry. I think . . . I think the only reason to marry is for love.”

  The air was silent and thick as Jacob stared at Olive.

  “What if you’re not sure you could ever love again?” Jacob asked.

  Olive tilted her head and smiled. “I think if you were in love you would know and that question would not need answered.”

  “How do you know, Olive. For sure, I mean. Didn’t you tell me you were never in love?”