The people all applauded. Olivia opened her eyes and saw Neil back away, so she did, too. Someone handed her and Neil glasses with small amounts of lemonade in them. While others were getting their glasses and Neil walked around to her, Olivia whispered, “What’s this for?”
Her heart beat fast at the idea of kissing over the glasses. These people certainly had interesting customs.
“We’ll all clink our glasses together.”
“Why?”
He grinned. “To keep the devil away.”
Oh dear. When the pastor lifted his glass and shouted, “To the bride and groom,” everyone clinked their glasses and then took a drink of lemonade. Looking into Neil’s eyes, Olivia had that strange feeling again of being his wife, belonging to him—and these people.
Maybe he should go into acting, too, because something in his eyes seemed to hold hers. She could even imagine he forgot for a moment, too, that they were pretending.
But he believed she belonged to him legally, so he could look at her as if he. . . approved of her. . .if he wanted to.
Staring into his eyes and hearing the congratulations, laughter, and people moving around, she took another sip of her lemonade. Maybe—since the devil seemed to be playing with her mind—she should ask if they might clink again.
After eating a piece of the cake that Edith cut, Olivia started to get up with her plate. Mama McCory reached over and touched her hand. “No, you’re not allowed. You’re the guest of honor.”
Olivia smiled and looked down. Honor? Was this honor-able? It seemed so. People were happy. Mama McCory was feeling better than she had in a long time. She’d only wanted a job. But what about when this ended?
Seeing a glint of light, she realized she was twisting the diamond ring that sparkled in the sunlight. She looked up and straight into the eyes of Mama McCory. Their gazes held for a long moment. Olivia tried to conceal the feelings of guilt and concern she felt inside.
Then Mama McCory smiled. That was a sweet smile of complete warmth and acceptance from this woman who thought Olivia was her granddaughter-in-law.
Olivia smiled back, hoping Mama McCory knew she was not acting like she liked her. She didn’t want this woman to die but couldn’t bear the thought of her knowing this marriage was not real. That would break her heart.
Oh, and wouldn’t these people all despise her when this was over?
twelve
“Mrs. McCory, will you pray for Janie?” Mary Clayton asked on Tuesday morning when Neil took Juliet with him to visit church members in the hospital. He’d removed the little girl’s tonsils on Monday.
Juliet’s hand played with the lace at the neck of her blouse. Her glance at him held uncertainty. He nodded, and they all bowed their heads and closed their eyes.
“God is great, God is good. Let us thank Him for. . .”
Neil’s eyes popped open and his head came up. They were not at a table, getting ready to eat. They were at the bedside of a pale, six-year-old girl lying in a hospital bed.
When they’d come into the room, Mary Clayton had hugged Juliet as if she were a long-lost friend. “How sweet of you to come and see my Janie,” she said. “I mean, you being a newlywed and all. I wouldn’t expect you to even think of her.”
George Clayton also expressed his appreciation.
Their greeting her so warmly seemed to be another confirmation that he’d done right in marrying Juliet. Neil was a doctor and a grandson, expected to tend his patients and care for his grandmother. But his “wife” showing concern was special.
Now what would they think of Juliet thanking God for “the food” at a time like this? Even if there was any food in the room, Janie couldn’t eat it.
Her parents didn’t look up, and Janie’s little hands were folded beneath her chin. The child’s smile spread across her face as Juliet continued, “. . .for this pretty little girl, with the beautiful name of Janie. Thank You for Dr. Neil who took out her tonsils. And thank You for ice cream that will help make her well. Amen.”
They all said, “Amen.”
Mary looked hopeful. “You said she could have ice cream today, didn’t you, Doctor?”
“Sure did.”
George said he’d run down and get some for Janie.
Mary turned to Janie. “Now see what Mrs. McCory has done for you?”
“Please call me Juliet,” she said, and Mary smiled.
Janie stretched out her arms. Juliet began to sing in a clear, musical voice, “Oh, you beautiful doll, you great big, beautiful doll. Let me put my arms about you. I could never live without you. Oh, you beautiful doll.” Then she put her arms around the little girl, who was obviously charmed by her.
“You were wonderful with Janie and the other patients,” Neil said after they left the hospital and headed for the clinic.
“I wasn’t sure what to do. But I remembered you told me to ‘be myself,’ so that’s all I could do.”
“Yourself is. . .” What could he say? Surprising? Beautiful? Admirable? He decided on, “good enough.”
Since the clinic wasn’t full of patients, he could take his wife to lunch. He felt good walking down the sidewalk with his smartly dressed wife. Passersby nodded or spoke.
If he had to say so himself, when they stopped for her to admire some purses in a shop window, he thought the reflection of that couple was quite handsome. She wore her tailored suit and a pert little hat with a feather in the band where the brim turned up. The gentleman accompanying her looked dapper in his suit coat and tie.
“Oh, I love that one.” She pointed to a small black bag adorned with jewels.
“You want it?”
He watched her reflection as she studied the purse for a long moment. “I’m saving my money.”
He wondered what for but had no right to ask. “I would be glad to. . .get it for you.”
“No,” she said quickly and turned from the window.
“Sorry.” Of course a man shouldn’t offer to buy a gift like that for a lady unless they were engaged or married. Knowing what to do or say at times wasn’t easy. He was bound by a marriage license but also a legal contract saying the marriage was a temporary one in name only. She was not really. . .his.
Hesitantly, he asked, “You will allow me to treat you to lunch, won’t you?”
His heart skipped a couple of beats when she looked up at him and smiled, like a lady being courted by a gentleman. “I’d be delighted.”
After Milton brought their food, Neil said, “Would you say the blessing?”
“Sure.”
With bowed head, he peeked as she said, “God is great. God is good. Let us thank Him for this food. Amen.”
“Amen,” he said, unfolding his napkin to put on his lap.
“Why are you grinning like that?”
He looked across at her. “I’m happy.”
Seeing the skepticism in her gorgeous green eyes, he ventured to ask, “Are you?”
She picked up her fork. Mischief lay in her glance before she looked down at her plate. “Who wouldn’t be with green beans and red potatoes staring us in the face?”
❧
Olivia looked out the kitchen window when she heard the sound of wagon wheels against the cobblestones. “It’s Stella.” She hadn’t seen her in three weeks, but it seemed like a lifetime.
“Run out and see what she’s up to,” Mama McCory said. “I would, if I could run.”
Olivia laughed, rushed outside, and hugged Stella. “I’m so glad to see you. I didn’t know you were coming today.”
“Two reasons,” Stella said. “Good news and not-so-good news.”
“Something happened?”
“No. Just a letter from that stubborn ol’ brother of mine.”
Olivia groaned. “My father. What’s he done now?”
Stella took a letter from her pocket. “I didn’t read it. But knowing Herman, it won’t be good.” She handed the letter to Olivia. “But the good news is that I called your dad’s housekeepe
r and asked her to send some of your personal items and clothes. I thought you’d need mainly skirts and shirtwaists.”
“Thank you.” Olivia tore open the envelope and read aloud.
Olivia,
I’ve always wanted the best for you. I’m sorry we don’t agree on what’s best. Apparently you will no longer listen to me, but to your aunt Stella. You must learn your lessons the hard way. I hope you will come to your senses and realize an acting career is not right for a young lady.
I can’t imagine what kind of job you’ve taken since you didn’t say. Maybe one like Stella, playing in a honky tonk. Was your college education and good upbringing all a waste?
Sorrowfully,
Your father
“Oh, honey,” Stella consoled.
“It’s all right.” Olivia stuffed the letter into her skirt pocket. “I’ve felt rejected by my father since I first mentioned acting. Let’s go inside, where I’m accepted for my acting ability.”
Olivia loved the way Mama McCory took to Stella. The two of them sat at the kitchen table, sipped coffee, and talked.
“Juliet is becoming quite a cook.” Mama McCory cast an approving glance at Olivia.
“What? Juliet a cook?”
“See for yourself.” Olivia took the Peace Brunch Pie from the icebox. She cut Stella a piece, and after one bite, Stella agreed it was wonderful. Mama McCory decided to have a small piece, although she’d already had breakfast.
“Not only is Juliet learning to cook, and not just breakfast,” Mama McCory said, discussing her as if she weren’t there, “but she’s learning to manage this inn. Still, she does have a problem.”
Olivia caught her breath. What was she doing wrong?
Stella looked concerned, too.
Mama McCory took a sip of coffee to wash down the pie. “She has trouble giving instructions to our cleaning ladies. When Juliet sees something that isn’t dusted or cleaned well enough, she does it herself.”
Olivia smiled at that. Her father had a housekeeper and a cook. They knew their jobs, and he was great at giving orders. She walked over to get their empty plates. “I don’t want to run them off. You and Neil, and Hedda, too,” she said, taking the plates to the sink, “have talked about the trouble you’ve had keeping workers.”
“Everything is running smoothly,” Hedda said, beginning to wash the plates, “now that you’re here.”
Maybe it was her imagination, but Olivia felt there was an edge to Hedda’s voice. It was accompanied by a sidelong look at Stella. A small silence followed. Mama McCory seemed not to notice.
In case Hedda was simply complimenting her, Olivia said, “Thank you.”
Stella, however, looked directly at Hedda. “Does that mean you’ll be retiring soon, Hedda?”
Hedda scrubbed the plate harder than necessary. “When I’m sure Juliet has learned enough. She’s doing a good job, but she’s still new at it.”
Olivia pretended to be looking at a recipe for a dish she wanted to try. Hedda didn’t mean anything by using the word “job,” did she? No, of course not. Everybody said things like that.
“You have a point,” Mama McCory said. “Juliet is still a newlywed. With her learning all this and Neil doctoring, they don’t have much time together.”
“You are so insightful, Mama McCory,” Stella said. “She and Neil should take a day off.”
Olivia told herself that the expectation welling up in her was simply excitement over getting out and seeing more of the spectacular views of these panoramic mountains, not anticipation of being alone with Neil. But they were supposed to be giving the impression that they were a married couple.
Stella and Mama McCory kept making their plans.
“Carter is on duty at the clinic on Saturdays,” Mama McCory said.
“A good time might be when the leaves are at their peak.”
“But that’s our busiest time, Stella,” Olivia responded.
“I can cook, change beds, do laundry, and clean house. And I’d love to be up here when the leaves peak. I do have some-thing to do Friday afternoons in Canaan Valley, but I could come after that.”
“Oh,” Hedda said, just as the plate she was drying slipped out of her hands and thumped onto the rug in front of the sink. She examined it. “It’s not broken. I’m so clumsy today.”
Mama McCory waved her hand. “No bother, Hedda. Over the years, you and I both have broken enough dishes to make up several sets.”
Hedda nodded and smiled. She set to washing the plate again.
Mama McCory returned her attention to Stella. Hedda came over to finish going over the recipe with Olivia. She said softly, “You make Mama McCory happy.”
Olivia thought Hedda’s eyes were watery. “Thank you.” She could imagine that Hedda would be sad to leave the inn—and Mama McCory. Wouldn’t anybody?
Olivia joined them at the table. “Now, have you two finished planning my life?”
Laughing, Mama McCory patted her hand. “For now. You and Neil must get away when the leaves are at their peak.”
“I’ll come that Friday evening,” Stella said, “weather permit-ting. I’ll stay for the weekend and go to church with you on Sunday.”
Mama McCory leaned toward Stella. “Did Juliet tell you she’s playing the piano for the church now?”
Stella’s “No” sounded more like disbelief than response to a simple question.
Mama McCory told the story. “Trudy didn’t show up for church two Sundays ago. We found out later she was ailing. When Pastor Jacob asked if anybody wanted to volunteer—”
“She volunteered me,” Olivia interrupted, and the three of them laughed.
“Well, I’ve heard you play,” Mama McCory said. “Most of our members haven’t had the opportunity to learn. When Trudy came back, she heard that Juliet had played in her place, and she wanted to sit and listen. After she listened, she said she would play the opening music and Juliet could play the hymns.”
“How nice,” Stella said in an exaggerated tone. “My sweet girl playing the piano in church.”
“Stella plays better than I do.” She decided to play a little of her aunt’s game. “Why don’t you come up this Saturday, stay the night, and play for us in church on Sunday?”
“Oh, please do,” Mama McCory said, looking expectant.
“I’d love to come up but not play. I play by ear, not notes.”
“How does that work?” Mama McCory asked curiously.
“I can hear a song,” she began to explain, “and the tune stays in my mind. My fingers and that tune work together when I sit at the piano. Sometimes I can play the tune the first time. On more complicated pieces, I might have to pick it out or hear it more than once.” She shrugged as if that were simple. “But once the key matches what’s in my mind, my fingers know what to do.”
“Amazing,” Mama McCory said. “Before you leave today, I want to see Juliet play from my sheet music or the hymnal and watch you do that.”
Olivia knew that Stella had heard and played church songs in some of her performances. “Yes, you should play for us Sunday, instead of me.”
Olivia felt Stella’s hand find her arm beneath the table and pinch it.
thirteen
On Sunday morning, Pastor Whitfield greeted them at the church door. “So pleased to see you again, Mrs. Kevay.” He smiled broadly. “Your daughter is a gift from the Lord. She’s the best pianist we’ve ever had.” He put his finger to his lips and cast a furtive glance around. “Don’t tell Trudy I said that.”
Mama McCory laughed lightly. “Juliet says Stella plays even better than she does.”
Stella protested, like one too modest to admit her talent.
“It’s true,” Olivia said.
“Please play for us,” he said. “God gives us talents to be shared.” He looked beyond them, so they moved on. Mama McCory stopped to speak to another woman.
“How could you do this to me?” Stella said. “I didn’t think Mama McCory would remem
ber your talking about that.”
“Mama McCory doesn’t forget a thing. Besides, don’t worry. If I can act like a wife, you can act like a church pianist.”
Stella stood for a moment and listened to Trudy. Then she smiled broadly and strutted down the aisle to take her seat.
After Trudy finished, Olivia walked up and sat on the piano bench. Pastor Whitfield took his place in the pulpit and looked out over the congregation.
“You all know how pleased we are that the Lord has provided us with Mrs. McCory, a gifted pianist. Well, this morning, after she plays our first hymn, we have another treat. Her mother will honor us with some special music. Now, let’s turn to page 158, stand, and sing ‘Nothing but the Blood.’ ”
When they finished, Stella walked up. “Kind of slow, wasn’t it?” she whispered as Olivia rose from the bench.
Oh dear! Olivia felt like a pitcher of cold creek water had been poured over her head. For an instant she froze, seeing Stella’s hands poised over the keys. What had she gotten them into? Before Olivia could return to her place between Mama McCory and Neil, the rafters were already ringing with a rousing rendition of “Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory.”
Stella’s whole body was into it, and her fingers were playing notes in between any notes that had ever been written for that hymn. Olivia knew that would be a hit for an outdoor crowd—even in a nickleodeon. But in a church?
Was Stella ruining everything? She was supposed to be the mother of Juliet Kevay McCory, the respected wife of the town’s beloved doctor.
This should light a fire under the members any minute. The first movement was a woman’s head turning. Then she saw that the woman was Hedda, with eyes popping and mouth agape.
Olivia was afraid to look at Neil. He must be terribly embarrassed. Pastor Whitfield sat in his chair on the platform, staring at Stella like she was one of the great wonders of the world. In fact, Olivia reckoned she was.
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