by Mary Davis
He would just need to find a way to get her riled up at him. Then he would know. Then he could go on.
* * *
Olivia hurried away from Troy. It had been all she could manage to not break down, cry, and let him comfort her as he’d done numerous times after Father left.
The tears welled now and spilled onto her cheeks.
She loved Troy but didn’t really trust him. Without threat of her anger, would something less innocent happen between him and another woman?
He wanted to marry her and take care of her. He knew that meant taking on the responsibility of Mother and Gran, as well. And yet he was willing.
Should she let him? Just to ensure a roof over her head? While her heart broke daily? Once he had her as his wife, he would have no need for discretion. Could she live that way?
As she hurried home, she prayed for guidance. The only thought that followed was Troy loves you. She was sure of his love, but could she be sure of his fidelity?
At home, she opened windows and the back door to let the breeze cool the house. Then she picked peas and scallions to have with dinner. She had the meal started when she heard hoofbeats stop out front. Mother and Gran were home.
And with them…Troy.
He always stayed for Sunday dinner. A way of thanking him for taking them to church.
She corralled her emotions and met the trio at the door.
Troy’s face showed surprise at her presence. He stared, evidently not knowing what to say.
“Olivia, here you are,” Mother said. “You just up and disappeared.”
Olivia forced a smile. “I wanted to get dinner started. It will be ready shortly.”
Mother reached back and patted Troy’s hand on the back of her wheelchair. “You’re staying for dinner.”
“I…”
Olivia kept her gaze on Mother lest her well-confined emotions break free. “Of course he is. Go on into the parlor, and I’ll finish up.” She strode back into the kitchen. She would show Troy—as well as Mother and Gran—that she and Troy were no more. She could be civil.
The strain around the table tainted the food.
After the meal, Troy said, “I should be going.”
Gran spoke up. “You don’t have to leave yet.”
Troy looked pointedly at Olivia. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“You are always welcome here,” Mother said.
“Just the same, I should go.”
Gran waved a hand at Olivia. “See him to the door.”
She didn’t want to but rose anyway and escorted him to the door. “Thank you for delivering us to church and bringing Mother and Gran home.”
He scooped up her hand.
The heat of his touch nearly undid her, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Though she longed for this small intimacy, she couldn’t let him know.
He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I have not given up on us. I have enough faith for both of us. I have prayed every day for the past year that everything would be right between us. We will be together. I will wait however long it takes.”
Oh. That was so sweet. She wanted to believe every word, but then the image of him with Violet spoiled it.
With a deep bow, he kissed her hand.
Her knees went weak. “I want to trust you.”
He looked up with his dimpled smile.
And she saw all the women he’d ever smiled at. She chided herself for being so easily drawn into his charm. She pulled her hand free. “But I can’t.”
“That you want to is enough for now.” He walked away.
She was a silly ninny. She shouldn’t have said that. She had unwittingly given him hope. Now he would try harder to win her affections. Or at least get her to confess her affections.
He would see soon enough that she would stand her ground.
Chapter 7
The next day, Troy sat across his desk from Widow Cornwall. This had been a profitable meeting. She was still young, beautiful and wealthy. She would attract another husband in no time. Until then, she needed someone trustworthy to handle her money.
Mr. Jones had taken to having Troy assist all the ladies, young, old, single, or married, unless they had a jealous husband. He said that Troy could charm a skunk out of its bad odor and a mule out of its stubbornness. Providing it was a female skunk or mule.
Troy came around his desk and proffered his hand to Mrs. Cornwall.
She took his offered assistance and rose. “I always feel safe in your hands and my money in your care.”
“I’m honored.”
“If your heart wasn’t already taken, I’d cast my net for you.”
Troy smiled. “I’m flattered. If my heart wasn’t already securely in another’s hands, I just might let myself get caught in your net.” But he never would.
Though the widow was his age, she didn’t appeal to him. It was good business to allow her, and other ladies like her, to believe there could be a spark of hope even when there was none. He opened the door for her.
She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. “That girl of yours is a fortunate lady.”
He wished Liv thought so. He stepped out of his office with Mrs. Cornwall.
Liv stared directly at him. She had seen.
As he passed Liv on his way escorting Mrs. Cornwall to the exit door, he said, “I can explain.” He knew he could get her to understand. She was smart. She understood business dealings. “Please wait right there.”
“You are just like my father,” Olivia said in a low voice.
Normally, he would take her statement as a compliment. But the way she said it made it sound like something bad. Wasn’t being like her father a good thing? And what did her father have to do with this situation?
He continued to the door, opened it, and motioned to Mrs. Cornwall’s driver.
She stopped before getting into her carriage. “Miss Bradshaw is pretty. I hope she knows how fortunate she is to hold your heart.”
* * *
Tears burned Olivia’s eyes. She blinked several times to stave them off. To think she’d come to make amends with Troy. She’d decided not to punish him for Violet’s improprieties. But maybe Saturday’s supper party wasn’t fully Violet’s fault.
Troy cupped her elbow. “Let’s go into my office.”
She went with him. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Liv, that wasn’t what it looked like.” He closed the door. “It didn’t mean anything. I promise.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It did mean something. It meant something to her.” She pointed toward the door. “Because you don’t discourage them, they all think they might have a chance with you.”
“Well, every one of them is wrong. I’m all yours.”
“But they don’t know that. You have given them hope. And that is what hurts. Your ego is more important than me.”
“I thought the more other women wanted me, the more appealing I’d be to you.”
How ridiculous! “No. A woman wants to know her man is all hers. That she is enough for him. But I guess I’m not.” She turned to leave.
He gripped her hand. “You are enough for me. I didn’t know. Give me another chance.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Her heart couldn’t take any more. “You used up all your chances.”
“Please don’t say that.”
She pulled her hand free. “I can’t do this anymore with you, Troy. I just can’t.” She turned to the door and opened it.
“I haven’t given up. I will win you back.”
She wasn’t sure if she even wanted him to try. She slipped out the door and hurried out of the bank. How could her life have turned on its head in the span of a week? From reconciliation with Troy to hopeless and destitute.
Her mission had been twofold. If the first part went well, she wouldn’t need to pursue the second part. But now off she went to the second part.
By the time she reached the
cannery, her queasy stomach had done battle with her scant breakfast. When she entered the building, the odor of fish accosted her. She regretted eating.
A boy of twelve escorted her to an office.
William Ecker, assistant to the manager of the cannery, sat behind a desk. When he looked up and saw her, he rose from his chair. He stood nearly as tall as Troy, though he was not as fit. He was handsome with a gentle smile. His hair was combed so neatly not a hair dare be out of place. “What have I done to be honored with a visit?”
Relief at having him there settled her stomach a bit. She saw him at church each Sunday. He had always been kind. “I hear the cannery is hiring.”
“Have a seat.” He pointed. “Please don’t tell me you’ve come to work.”
She sat with her back straight. “I have.”
He smiled and stepped from behind his desk. “Shouldn’t you be married and halfway to having your second or third child by now?”
Her face warmed at the implication and the poke at her age. “I am in need of employment.”
“What does Troy have to say about this?”
Her breath caught at the mention of his name. “He has no say in matters that concern me.” But he would have plenty to say if he knew.
“I see.” Mr. Ecker sat on the corner of his desk, facing her. “I thought there was a chill between the two of you yesterday at church. Are you done with him?”
Her heart said no. “I don’t see how that is relevant to my purpose for being here.”
“It’s a simple enough question.” He studied her.
She shifted under his scrutiny. “Yes, we’re through.”
Like the sun is through rising and setting. At least be honest with yourself.
She pushed the stray thoughts down with others like them to where they couldn’t nag her.
He spread his arms. “Why do you want to work here?”
Desperation. She needed time to sort through her feelings for Troy. A month or two of rent would afford her that time. Wouldn’t it? “Are you hiring or not?”
He chuckled. “We are.” He hesitated.
She heard a “but” coming.
“But I will make you a better offer.” His features softened. “If you are truly done with Troy Morrison, I offer you my hand in marriage.” He held out his hand, palm up to her.
She jerked to her feet, causing the chair to scrape the floor. “What?”
“You shouldn’t be working. You are a lady who should be taken care of. If Troy won’t marry you, I will. I assure you my offer is genuine.”
She couldn’t believe he just proposed. Just like that. No pomp. No tradition. No romance at all. Practical. Mother would like that.
He thrust his arms out from his sides. “Come now, Olivia. You can’t be that shocked.”
But she was shocked.
“You’re unmarried, good-natured, and beautiful, and I’m a bachelor who has the means to take care of you. The men still outnumber the women this far west. How you have remained unwed is astonishing. I will be moving up to the position of manager in a year or two. We would be all set. You would want for nothing.”
We? She had never entertained the idea of marrying anyone but Troy. When Troy spoke of marriage or their future, it set her heart dancing. But Mr. Ecker’s proposal caused a ripple of trepidation through her. Not that he wasn’t a nice man. Marriage to anyone other than Troy held no appeal. And since she wasn’t going to marry him…“I’m flattered, but I’m not interested in marriage. If there are no positions, I’ll be on my way.” She scooted toward the door.
“Don’t run off. I’ll hire you. We always need girls on the floor.” He remained seated on the corner of the desk.
She stopped and stared at him.
He moved back around his desk and indicated the chair she had vacated. “Please sit.”
When she did, he sat, as well.
“Right now I only have packing positions available. In a week or two, I can probably move you to labeling. You’ll like that much better.”
He was promising her favors after she had declined his proposal?
He opened a ledger and spoke as he wrote. “O…liv…ia Brad…shaw. Address?” He glanced up. “I need it for our records. If I wanted to make a social call, I know how to get to your house. This town isn’t that big.”
He wasn’t thinking of doing that, was he?
She told him her address as well as the additional information he requested.
“When would you like to start?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Today?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t imagined things would work out quite this well or so quickly.
He made a notation, closed the ledger, and stood. “Then come with me.”
She followed him out.
The canning room bustled with shifting and rolling cans, clattering machinery and people. The smell of fish was far more pungent. She resisted the urge to plug her nose. She would have to get used to it. Breathing through her mouth, she followed him in.
Mr. Ecker waved a girl over. “Sally, this is Olivia. She is starting today. Show her how to pack the cans.”
“Yes, sir.” Sally couldn’t be more than seventeen. “Come with me.” She handed Olivia an apron and a pair of sleeve guards.
Olivia followed and was soon stuffing cooked salmon into one tin can after another. After a couple of hours, the lunch whistle blew. She hadn’t been prepared to stay when she came this morning. She was tired and hungry. And she hadn’t even worked a full day.
The girls removed their soiled aprons and sleeve guards and shuffled toward the door. Sally turned to Olivia. “Are you coming? We eat outside when it’s not raining.”
She couldn’t sit with them, having nothing to eat. “I need to use the privy.”
“All right.”
Olivia watched the girl disappear with the others.
“How did it go?”
She gasped and spun around to face Mr. Ecker. “Fine.”
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“To eat.”
“The others went outside.”
“But you are not. You brought no food with you this morning.”
“I’m fine.” Her stomach growled.
He grinned. “I hear otherwise. You weren’t expecting to stay all day. I can’t have you fainting in the middle of the afternoon.” He took two paces.
She didn’t follow.
He stopped. “You are a stubborn one. Either follow me or go home and don’t come back.”
She couldn’t do that, so she followed.
On his desk sat two covered plates.
“I order in from the hotel dining room. I took the liberty of having a plate sent over for you.”
“I can’t accept this.”
“I’m only trying to be considerate, Olivia.”
She stared at the covered dish, wondering what was under it while her mouth watered.
He guided her to the chair and removed the lid. Roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, a roll, and green beans. “It’s already paid for, so don’t let it go to waste.”
She sat. “Thank you.” She offered up a quick silent blessing for the food and picked up the fork.
After she had eaten half her meal, she glanced up.
Mr. Ecker wasn’t eating. He was staring. At her.
“What?”
“Are you ready to quit and accept my proposal?”
She squared her shoulders. “No, I’m not.” She might not be used to this kind of labor, but she wasn’t some debutante who’d never done any work. The money would go a long way toward paying rent.
“Shall I send a message to your mother, letting her know where you are and not to expect you until supper? So she won’t worry.”
Something else she’d forgotten to do. “That would be kind of you.”
He wrote on a fresh sheet of paper and folded it. “Christopher?”
The boy who had escorted her in this
morning appeared at the doorway.
Mr. Ecker held out the paper. “Take this to Miss Bradshaw’s residence.” He gave the boy directions. “Wait for any reply they might have and report to me at once.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy snatched the paper and ran off.
“I’ll let you know if they send any word back.”
“Thank you. I should return to work.” She pushed up from the chair.
He stood, as well. “It’s not quite time. You haven’t finished your meal.”
“I’m sorry for being wasteful, but I’m quite satisfied. Thank you.”
“Shall I walk you down?”
“I can find my way.” It would do her no good for the other workers to think she was getting special favors. Even though she was.
Olivia arrived back in the packing room as the others entered from an exterior door.
Sally tied on her apron. “Where did you go?”
“Mr. Ecker needed to speak to me.”
“Mercy. Doesn’t the man know you needed to eat?”
“No worry. I ate.”
At the end of the day, Olivia’s feet and legs had nearly gone numb from standing. Her arms, shoulders and back ached. Places she didn’t know could hurt, hurt. Was there any part of her not in pain?
She would get used to it. She had to.
Mr. Ecker met her as she was leaving the packing room. “I’ll walk you out.”
Sally gave her a sideways look and scuttled away.
Olivia wished he wouldn’t show her any undue attention. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. Come along now.”
Outside, she stopped short. A buggy waited. Presumably his.
He faced her. “Do you know what I like most about your working here?”
She couldn’t imagine. “I’m tired. I just want to get home so I can make supper.”
He laid an open hand on his chest. “I offer you my service as driver. Let me give you a ride. I have my buggy right here.” He motioned behind him.
The ride might give him the wrong impression. “That’s very generous, but I think it’s best if I walk.”
But before she could take a step, he continued. “What I like about your working here is that it gives me a chance to ingratiate myself to you.”
Ingratiate himself? She never would have imagined William Ecker was interested in her. She’d only ever had eyes for Troy. But William was a lot like Troy. Tall, handsome, charming, and not easily deterred. But a lot less insistent than Troy. He would be far easier to put off, not having the same history of expectations with her that Troy did.