Unforsaken (12 page)

The two men shook hands and Ada tittered in mock amusement. “Mr. Bowen, I'm sure you'll always be welcome in this house. You will be joining us for dinner, won't you?"

Olivia winced, knowing everyone was waiting for her to echo Ada's invitation, but Sarah beat her to it. “Please, Daddy. Let's stay with Livvy."

Glancing down at his daughter, he shook his head. “Miss Olivia has company, sweetie."

"You're more than welcome,” Olivia said a little too quickly and a little too insistently. “If you'd like."

Unable to deny Sarah, Matt agreed, and introductions were made before everyone settled around the dining room table. The conversation dwelt mostly on the weather, the optimistic predictions for a bountiful harvest, and the growing demand for cotton by northern textile mills.

"I think you're on to something, Sullivan,” Rodger spoke up. “Why should we let our cotton go to benefit someone else? We might as well mill it and sell it ourselves."

"Labor is cheaper in the north,” Matthew pointed out. “The larger cities are teeming with factory workers desperate for work, and they can pay top dollar for cotton."

"That's true, of course,” Sullivan admitted. “But by the time the cotton changes hands a few times and commissions are paid, you're really not that much better off."

Olivia could see no argument with that. “And you think southern factories can compete with them?"

"I think it's inevitable,” he replied. “The core of the south's economy has been completely eradicated. Without slavery, the cost of labor alone will bankrupt the average planter unless he can compete in the new market."

"The new market?"

"Industry,” Mr. Sullivan insisted. “That's where the next economic boom will be, Miss Chandler, mark my words, and you're getting in on the ground floor."

"I am?” Rodger squirmed beneath Olivia's heated stare. “Since when?"

"Well, I know all of the details haven't been worked out.” Mr. Sullivan sensed the immediate tension between the cousins. “But there's plenty of time for that."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the dining room, and Eula gently nudged Olivia's foot with her own under the table. They exchanged glances, and Eula skillfully directed the conversation to neutral ground. “Matt, I hear Sam's brother-in-law is going to be working out at your place.

"Yes, they got moved in yesterday.

"Sam says he's got a houseful of youngsters,” Rodger put in. “Any of them old enough to work?"

"They're all old enough.” Matt shook his head and smiled. “I don't know how much hard labor he'll get out of five females."

"Five females?” Olivia gasped, positive she hadn't heard right. “You mean that every child that man has is a girl?"

Everyone eyed her warily, except for Matt, who thought nothing of her startled response. “For now, anyway."

"For now?"

Matt only shrugged. “I think his wife intends to have them all married off by Christmas."

Olivia sank back in her chair, sickened by the irony of the situation. If it had happened to anyone other than herself, she would have laughed. Her ideal plan to help Matthew served only to deliver him into the clutches of not one but five husband-hunters.

From the corner of her eye, she could see the anticipation on Ada's face, and she wondered what excuse the woman would make to leave early in order to see that all the juicy tidbits she had gathered today were spread properly throughout the county.

Mr. Sullivan had been completely charmed by Eula, and he'd seemed reluctant to leave when Rodger and Ada did, but to do otherwise would have been impolite. Olivia was relieved to see them go, and Sarah was pleased to have her father's undivided attention.

A tiny table and chairs had been placed on the back porch, and Sarah had carefully set the table with her fancy new teapot and matching cups and saucers. She was so proud, and Matthew couldn't help but smile as she propped two of her dolls in their chairs.

Glancing up, she caught him watching her and patiently explained, “We're havin’ a tea party, Daddy."

"A party?"

She nodded and began pouring imaginary tea into each cup.

Matthew accepted the dainty china cup and saucer she held out to him. The tea set was extravagant, no doubt hand-painted and costly, and he didn't like the idea of his little girl developing a fondness for things he couldn't afford.

She carefully seated herself at the table, pouring more tea from the matching tea pot and warning him not to drop the cup. “It'll break, Daddy."

Olivia stepped out onto the porch, bearing a vase of flowers. “Here, sweetie, I brought these from the garden. A table isn't set properly without fresh flowers."

Sarah smiled and bent her face toward the cluster of blooms. “They're simply
charming."

Olivia laughed at her dramatics and seated herself beside Matthew. “She's quite the little hostess, isn't she?"

"You're spoiling her, Olivia,” he warned, keeping his voice low. “A child can't have everything she wants."

"It's only a few toys."

"You've already bought her too many toys.” He motioned toward the dolls and stuffed animals littering the porch. “She doesn't play with half of these things."

"She does so,” Olivia insisted. “What does it hurt to indulge her a little?"

"I don't want her getting used to living like this.” The hurt in her eyes knifed him, but it had to be said. “Don't make her resent me for being poor."

"You're not poor,” she argued. “Times are hard for everyone."

"Not you, Olivia,” he reminded her. “You came out ahead."

"I did what had to be done. No one lost their home or their land. I did that much. How dare they begrudge me making an honest living? If anything, they should be grateful."

She had been so pleased with herself for bargaining shrewdly with the Yankee tax man. A lump sum settlement was much simpler for him than trying to auction off dozens of pieces of property, and no one in Wilkes County would suffer eviction. Rather than a benefactor, everyone accused her of taking sides with the enemy. Worse than a carpetbagger, they said she was a
publican.
The worst kind of sinner, one who profits from the misfortune of their own people.

"Jesus healed ten lepers, Olivia, and only one came back to thank him."

"So
you're
preaching at me now?"

He shook his head. “Try looking at things from where they stand. Some families have owned land in this county since before the Revolution, and they don't like the idea of it belonging to someone else."

"It doesn't
belong
to me,” she insisted. “If I hadn't stepped in, half the county would have gone on the auction block. All I ask is that they repay a portion every year out of their crops."

"And what if they can't?” he pressed. “Would you foreclose?"

"So far, no one's had a problem."

"So your generosity really hasn't been tested. Maybe that's what everyone is waiting to see."

Chapter Ten

"Well, well, who do we have here?"

"This is Sarah.” Olivia eased the little girl into the room full of children. “Say hello to Miss Margie, Sarah."

Holding tight to Olivia's hand, Sarah remained silent and glanced about the spacious room crowded with children. Sarah enjoyed attending church with Olivia and Eula, but up until now, she had not attended the Sunday school class for children her own age.

Since her mother's death, Sarah had little interaction with her peers, and Olivia doubted Matthew realized the importance being confident and independent where social situations were concerned. Olivia's own father would have woefully neglected that aspect of her adolescence if Eula had not intervened. It was her duty to do the same for Sarah, and summer Bible school was the perfect opportunity.

"Say hello, Sarah,” she prompted once again, but Sarah tightened her grip on Olivia's hand and shook her head.

"Oh, Sarah, we're so glad you're here,” Miss Margie said the bright voice Olivia remembered so well from her own childhood. The veteran teacher wasn't fazed by a little reluctance. “It's almost time for our Bible story about Jonah and the whale."

Olivia smiled encouragingly. “That's one of my favorites."

"After story time, the boys and girls draw a picture showing what they learned."

Sarah's face brightened slightly, and Olivia was quick to point out what a wonderful artist she was. “She's drawn several pictures for me."

"How splendid. Won't you stay and draw one about Jonah for Miss Olivia?"

Reluctantly, Sarah nodded and glanced up at Olivia, “Are you staying with me?"

"This is a class for boys and girls,” she explained, brushing a wisp of Sarah's hair back into place. “I'll be waiting for you when you're finished, and we'll go buy a frame for your picture."

At last, Sarah gave in to the lure of playing games with other children and drawing pictures of great whales, and Miss Margie rewarded her with praise for being so brave and grown up.

Olivia smiled encouragingly once again and waited until Sarah glanced back with a smile of her own, and then she slipped away while Sarah joined the other children.

Nancy was waiting for her when she stepped outside, obviously surprised to see Olivia without Sarah in tow. “I can't believe she let you out of her sight."

Olivia fell into step with her friend, making their way down the front walk of the church. “She was determined not to at first, but she'll be fine."

"Don't you worry that she's becoming too attached to you?"

"Of course, not.” Nancy stopped short and looked at her with obvious concern, and Olivia tried to amend her hasty denial. “She's a sweet-natured, affectionate child and she's no more attached to me than she is to anyone else."

"She clings to you like a vine,” Nancy countered. “And I haven't seen you without her in weeks. Perhaps you're the one becoming too attached. What are you going to do when it's time for her to go home?"

Olivia shook her head and whispered, “I don't know, Nancy. I just don't know."

Olivia couldn't stop thinking about what Nancy had said, or Matthew's sharp criticism of the way she was caring for Sarah. She suspected much of his disapproval stemmed from his resentment of her reluctance to chance anything more than a platonic relationship with him, but how could she?

How could she risk having her heart broken again? There was no guarantee things would turn out differently this time, and she couldn't stand the thought of everyone shaking their heads and wondering at her gullibility.

Three days passed, and Matt didn't return. Olivia told herself that this would be his busiest time in the fields, but she knew he was deliberately avoiding another confrontation with her. He would work himself near to death and then be able to care for Sarah himself once the crops were planted, and afterward he could afford to hire help.

None of which gave her comfort.

Dusk settled itself around the town, and Olivia stood on her back porch listening to the night peepers calling out to one another in the trees.

"Livvy?” Sarah's voice drew her attention. “Livvy, I don't feel good."

"Come sit beside me,” she suggested, making her way to the swing. The little girl climbed onto the seat and slumped against Olivia just as she was seated. Her little body was unusually warm, but she shivered and huddled into Olivia's embrace.

With the toe of her shoe, Olivia set the swing in motion and gently massaged the child's narrow shoulders. Just as Sarah shivered again, Olivia caught sight of Maddy in the kitchen and called for to come out onto the porch.

"What's the matter?” Maddy crossed the porch and felt Sarah's face. “Lord have mercy, this child is burning up."

Olivia felt Sarah's forehead for herself. “You mean a fever?"

Maddy nodded. “We'd best get her in out of the night air."

Olivia gathered Sarah in her arms and followed Maddy inside the house, berating herself. She should have known something was wrong and gotten Sarah inside as quickly as possible. There was nothing worse for a fever than the night air.

Maddy instructed Olivia to get Sarah into bed while she put together a remedy for fever. Sarah cried for Olivia to hold her, but Maddy insisted the child be in bed, covered up. Aunt Eula appeared in the doorway and tried to dismiss Olivia's growing concern. “Children run temperatures all the time. Why, tomorrow morning you won't know anything was wrong."

"She's burning up.” Olivia struggled to keep from sounding alarmed. The last thing she wanted to do was frighten Sarah, but her own fear was getting the best of her. “Something is terribly wrong."

"Nonsense.” Eula swept inside the room, clasping Olivia's hands in a reassuring gesture. “Just put a few drops of elderberry wine in a glass of warm sugar water, and she'll be fine."

"Elderberry wine is for headaches.” Maddy hurried to the child's bedside, bearing a steaming cup in her hand. “I made a cup of willow bark tea; that's what she needs for a fever. Let it cool a bit and have her drink it."

"You can't make a child drink something bitter like that,” Eula pointed out. “She won't get enough down to do any good."

While the two women argued home remedies, Olivia watched with alarm as Sarah's face grew flushed. When she felt the child's forehead, it was even hotter than before. “I think the best thing would be to send for Dr. McComb."

Eula took in Sarah's peaked appearance and nodded in agreement. “Maddy, would you send for the doctor?"

Maddy turned right away, but Olivia's voice stopped her. “The doctor first, and then her father."

Olivia had never been so frightened in her life. Sarah's body was limp with fever, and it seemed the doctor would never arrive. At last a shadow filled the doorway and she turned grateful eyes to find Matthew standing just inside the room.

"What's wrong?” he demanded, crossing the room to kneel beside the bed and smooth a lock of hair from his daughter's face. “What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Daddy, hold me,” she begged, trying to sit up, but his large hand gently eased her back onto the pillow.

"You stay in bed now. I'll hold your hand as long as you want, but for now you have to stay under the covers.” He accepted a freshly dampened cloth from Olivia and bathed the child's face with cool water.