Unforsaken (11 page)

"Am I? Most folks, even Yankees, find it scandalous to conduct business with a woman, and unthinkable with one of questionable virtue.” He pressed the point. “Most of our customers are married men. Do you think their wives will want them dealing with you?"

"This is ridiculous!” Olivia shot out of her chair, furious, and crossed the room to stare out the window. “I haven't done anything wrong! How dare anyone make such presumptions about me?"

"As long as you're keeping that child, everyone will think you're out to marry him. By any means necessary.” He paused. “Is that what you're doing?"

"No!” She whirled to face him, shaken by the conversation. “I resent your questions. My personal life is none of your concern."

"But this business is,” he stated. “Olivia, I've worked here since I was fifteen years old, and I don't intend to stand meekly by while you throw it all away."

"I don't care what your intentions are. The business is mine and I'll run it as I see fit."

"Even it that means running it into the ground? I'm certain Ryan thought you'd be married by now and have a husband to oversee things for you."

"Well, I'm not.” She deeply resented Rodger speaking so casually about her brother. God knows, she'd prefer to be penniless rather than lose her brother. “Ryan's will mentioned nothing about my being married or needing anyone to run my affairs.
Least
of all you."

The last phrase was deliberately mean-spirited, but Olivia didn't care.

"You're right, of course, Olivia.” Rodger turned toward the door, pausing only long enough to add, “I'm sure Ryan had no doubt you'd end up alone."

She swore not to pay Rodger any mind, but Olivia did have to consider her reputation. Her standing in the community might actually be in jeopardy, and sometimes that meant more than wealth. People might not like her, but they would respect her.

For her own sake, she had to end the situation. She couldn't afford to become any more attached to Sarah, and the risk of her feelings for Matthew posed the greatest danger. She couldn't delude herself that they could pick up where they left off just because of a little honest conversation, but pride wouldn't allow her to invite another woman into his life.

She had to think of something that would allow him to manage the farm and care for Sarah. Even as she was leaving for home, the issue plagued her.

Crossing the lot behind the gin, where her buggy was waiting, she caught sight of Sam, the mill foreman, and smiled as he tipped his hat.

"Afternoon, Miz Chandler."

"Hello, Sam. How are things going?"

"Work's never done,” he stated. “Can't finish one order without two more waiting."

"That's good,” she reminded him. “You and I will never be without work."

They paused while more lumber was loaded into a wagon, and Sam ordered the men to tie the load. She thought again of Matthew's situation and realized that Sam might just hold the solution.

"Sam, forgive me if I'm prying, but did I hear you say that your sister's family was living with you?"

"My
wife's
sister,” he corrected her, his voice thick with resentment. “Her and her husband and five young'uns."

"My goodness, what a brood.” She hesitated. “What are their plans?"

"Hell, who knows? Beg your pardon, Miz Chandler, but having a passel of young'uns tries a man's nerves."

"I can understand that."

"They came down from Memphis two months ago for a visit. My wife was thrilled to see her sister, and I didn't mind them coming for a visit. When she and the missus started making Christmas plans, I knew they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.” He ran his hand along his jaw. “They lost everything in the war ... their land, the house. Everything."

"What will they do?” He shrugged, and she suggested, “Have you thought of giving him a job here?"

"No!” He was emphatic “He'd never take orders from me, and I won't have something like that coming between me and my wife."

"What about farming? You said he owned land."

"He had a small place ... nothing big.

"I know of someone who needs help on his land."

"Sharecropping?"

"Not exactly ... this would be help with his own crops. Your brother-in-law and his family would have a place to live and I would see they earned enough to secure a place of their own next year. Would you ask him about it?"

"You let me know where and when and I'll have them there."

Chapter Nine

I wouldn't ask, except that Sam is in such an awkward position.

I wanted to ask you first, before mentioning anything to Sam.

The buggy jostled along and Olivia struggled to think of the best way to approach Matthew with what seemed to be the perfect solution to her problem. She didn't mean to lie to him, but if he even suspected she was doing this to help him financially he would balk. Like most men, his pride got in the way of common sense.

Mindful that there might be snakes, Olivia picked her away around back of the house, steering clear of any tall grass. Thankfully, she caught sight of him just beyond the garden. She hadn't fancied the thought of waiting hours for him to return from the field. Still, she could have used the time to gather her thoughts completely.

He was repairing a section of the fence separating the garden from the fields and took no notice of her hesitant approach.

Sweat glistened across his bare shoulders and ran down his chest in rivulets, leaving the fine dusting of hair damp against his tanned skin. She couldn't help noticing how the hair narrowed at his waist and disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. She swallowed hard and tried to force the words that would alert him to her presence, but he must have sensed her watching him and turned toward her.

"Olivia.” He was obviously surprised and his eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong? Where's Sarah?"

"Oh, no. Everything is fine. She's attending a birthday party one of Aunt Eula's friend's is having for her grandson. You remember Mae Helen Randall, don't you?"

He nodded and reached for his shirt, slipping his arms into the sleeves but not bothering to button it. When he turned back to her, his expression was all but contemptuous. “Then what are you doing here?"

His curt manner stung, but she steeled herself for what she needed to do. “I need a favor."

His expression registered surprise. “What kind of favor?"

"Well, it's not really for me.” She tried to smile, but the wary look in his eyes warned her to skip any pretense. “My foreman, Sam, has relatives who've relocated here since the war. He needs to find them a place to live, and his brother-in-law needs work. I was hoping you might be interested in having some help with the cotton and all."

"Why not just put him to work in your mill?"

He turned toward the house, and she had to hurry to keep up with his long strides. “I offered, but Sam doesn't think it would work out."

"If he's not the sort of man Sam wants working at the mill, what makes you think I'd want him around here?"

"Sam doesn't want any of his relatives working for him,” she explained. “It can cause hard feelings, especially if he has to let them go."

Matt nodded but didn't say anything as he dipped water from a pail and drank, draining the dipper twice more. Water trickled down his chin and mingled with the perspiration dampening his throat and chest, following the same path toward the flat plane of his stomach.

"I still don't see what kind of favor I can do for you that would help."

His words startled her, and she realized she had been staring at the span of his naked torso exposed by the gaping front of his unbuttoned shirt. Her face flamed, but she managed a hoarse reply. “The main thing is finding them a place to live, and you have that empty cabin just going to waste."

His eyes grew wide with alarm. “I don't want a bunch of—"

"It would only be temporary,” she pleaded. “Just until they're on their feet, and I thought it might be nice for you to have some extra help."

"Does he expect me to pay wages?"

Olivia chose her words carefully, knowing full well that Matthew's pride would force him to refuse any help from her. “No, of course not. Aren't most arrangements such as this based on a percentage of the crop?"

He nodded. “How much of a percentage?"

She faltered, carefully considering her reply. She knew that sharecroppers usually split the price with the land owner, in addition to buying their own seed and supplying all the labor. This situation was different. She knew he would balk if the cut was too high and be suspicious if it was too low. “Fifteen percent?"

He frowned slightly and she held her breath, wishing she could tell him it wouldn't cost him a cent.

"And if they don't stay until the crop is in?"

"Then you owe them nothing."

Finally he said, “That sounds fair."

"Sam will be so pleased,” she replied.

"I haven't agreed to anything,” he cut off her reply. “Tell Sam to bring the man out here to have a look around the place. If I like him, we'll go from there."

She nodded, relieved that he was receptive to the idea. Now all she had to do was turn and leave with whatever dignity she could retrieve.

"You still haven't answered my question."

She glanced up at him, uncertain of his meaning. “I told you, if they leave before—"

"I asked what you were doing here."

"Asking you about Sam's in-laws."

He shook his head. “No. You could have sent Rodger to ask me about that, or Sam himself. I want to know the reason
you
came out here."

He advanced on her and Olivia swallowed hard, knowing he wasn't waiting for her answer. It took every ounce of courage she could muster not to take a step back in retreat.

"You want to prove being around me doesn't mean anything to you. That seeing me has no effect on you at all.” He stared down at her, his eyes burning into hers. “Well, you're wasting your time because we both know the truth."

Her hands came up to ward him off, but the feel of his hot, solid flesh against her bare hands startled her, causing her resolve to slip. His arms closed around her and she could feel the heat of his skin burning through her clothes. For an instant, she wondered what it would feel like against her own bare skin. The image frightened her and she began twisting out of his embrace.

He released her immediately and turned away. “You can't keep coming around me, Olivia, not if you expect me to pretend like nothing ever happened between us."

She could feel her face burn with bright color. “What happened between us was ... was—"

"I'm talking about last Sunday."

"Last Sunday? Nothing happened—” The words died on her lips, and she realized he wasn't referring to long-ago moments of passion. So much had been said between them, breaking a long bitter silence, and a fragile trust had been formed. A trust she had broken when faced with narrow-minded gossip and insinuations.

"Do you really believe that?"

"I—” Again, he didn't wait for her answer. Instead, he turned and stalked away, leaving her to stare at his retreating back and wish she had the courage to go after him.

"Mr. Sullivan, I'm so pleased you could join us this afternoon."

"Thank you, Miss Chandler. I am honored by your invitation."

"I'd like you to meet my aunt, Eula Chandler."

Sullivan bowed elegantly, and Olivia was more than a little surprised by his sophisticated manners. She glanced at her cousin, who merely nodded in response to her welcome, and then to Ada, who didn't let on that she knew of the recent unpleasantness between her husband and Olivia.

Eula led the gentlemen into the parlor, but Ada caught hold of Olivia's arm and stopped her before she could follow the others.

"Olivia, I want you to know I'm sorry if you took offense at anything I said the other day."

But not sorry you said it, Olivia thought to herself. She only nodded and said, “Let's just forget the matter."

"Forget it?” Ada was dismayed. “Olivia, dear, you have got to
do
something about resolving this ... predicament. And soon."

"Predicament?"

"With Matthew Bowen."

Olivia wrenched her arm none too gently from Ada's grasp. “Yes, I hear the local gossip is simply rife with speculation on what
really
happened between us last Sunday."

"Well, just what do expect people to think?"

"If I really cared, I wouldn't have gone back out there the other day, now would I?"

For a moment, Olivia was positive Ada was torn between fainting dead away and running into the street and shouting the news to everyone in town. At last, she found her voice and managed a strangled, “You did what?"

"There was something I had to discuss with him, and it just couldn't wait,” Olivia replied, delighting in dangling just enough information to whet the woman's thirst for gossip. Ada reveled in her esteemed position as the local authority on the goings-on of Olivia Chandler and her sordid business. “Something personal."

Ada's eyes shone in anticipation of the knowledge, and Olivia allowed the ensuing silence to build just enough before leaning forward and whispering, “He's going to let out the old cabin on his place to Sam Pate's brother-in-law. Isn't that wonderful?"

Ada blinked, unable to suppress her disappointment, and repeated, “Wonderful."

Without another word Olivia turned toward the parlor, stopping short when she heard Sarah's voice. “Livvy! Livvy, Daddy's here!"

Olivia turned just in time to see Sarah leading Matthew from the kitchen into the foyer, her face beaming with delight. Ada was no less delighted, as well.

"Well, well, Matthew Bowen,” she chimed. “How wonderful to see you. But I suppose we'll be seeing a lot of you these days."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kirk.” His gaze barely flickered over her before settling on Olivia. “I certainly hope I don't wear out my welcome."

Telltale warmth rose to her cheeks and Olivia lowered her gaze, unable to meet the knowing look in his eyes.

"Matthew!” Rodger stepped out of the parlor, extending his hand. “I thought I heard your voice."