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Authors: Lisa Higdon

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BOOK: Unforsaken
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Maddy shook her head. “Lord have mercy, this child ain't timid, that's for sure."

Glancing up, Matthew caught sight of Olivia watching them from the parlor, as if she'd stumbled upon a snake and was trying to decide if it was poisonous or not.

"Good evening, Mr. Bowen.” She smiled slightly, almost wincing from the effort. “I'm pleased you could join us."

He rose to his feet, not liking the way she spoke to him as if he was a stranger one bit, but he could scarcely protest. Sarah held tight to his hand and led him into the parlor. “Thank you for inviting me."

"Matthew! I didn't hear you come in.” Eula swept inside the parlor and smiled at Sarah. “What does your papa think about you being so gussied up?"

"She looks like a princess.” Sarah beamed at his compliment and Matthew glanced at Olivia, trying to guess her thoughts.

"Well, dinner is on the table,” Eula told them all. “Let's not let things get cold."

Matthew tried to concentrate on Sarah's jubilant tale of nearly escaping her bath and picking flowers for the table, but he was so tired he could barely get through the meal. At last they all rose from the table and he bid Sarah kiss him good night before he left.

"No-ooo!” she cried, flinging her arms around his neck. “I wan’ go with you!"

He swallowed hard. “No, honey, you're going to stay here, but I'll be back to see you tomorrow."

"No, Daddy, please.” she begged, her tiny face puckering with misery. “Don’ go."

"I have to, sweetie.” He was at a loss and looked to Olivia for help.

"Miss Olivia and I want you to spend the night here,” Eula cajoled the unhappy child. “Won't that be fun?"

She shook her head miserably. “No, no. I want Daddy."

"What about Miss Nellie?” Eula shook her head. “She'll be so sad to know you left her."

A tug of war ensued and the child was torn. Matthew asked her, “Who is Miss Nellie?"

"My ba-by,” was the hoarse reply. “She's upstairs."

"Let Daddy tuck you in and then he'll be back tomorrow,” Eula suggested.

At last she nodded, and Eula told her she was a brave little girl. “Olivia, dear, I had Maddy make up the trundle bed in your room.

Olivia's face paled. “My room?"

"Of course, dear. She can't sleep in a room all alone in a strange house, and my room doesn't have a trundle."

An awkward silence followed that implied Olivia was to lead the way, and her reluctance was obvious. At last she said, “This way."

He followed her up the stairs, bearing Sarah's limp form. He heard her yawn in his ear and knew she would be asleep before long. Olivia paused before the door of her bedroom, and he was surprised by the blush on her face.

Once inside, he felt suffocated by the delicate, feminine things. The room smelled of flowers and perfume, and he guessed the tiny bottles covering the top of the dressing table accounted for that.

Olivia bent to retrieve a tiny nightgown that lay folded on her bed and awkwardly held it out to him. He eased the little girl to her feet, but she slumped against him, rubbing her eyes. Olivia reached for the buttons of her dress just as he did and his fingers brushed against hers. He drew back as if burned. Indeed, the feel of her skin in such an intimate setting was more than he could bear.

She methodically went about the task of removing Sarah's dress and petticoat, all new and costly, and drew the nightgown over her head. He turned back the covers on the narrow bed beside Olivia's and placed the sleepy child on the starched white sheets. Olivia presented him with a doll and whispered, “Miss Nellie."

He nodded and laid the doll beside his daughter and smiled as she embraced it. “Good night, sweetheart.” He brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Sweet dreams."

Tears budded in her eyes once again, but she whispered, “G'night, Daddy."

He hated leaving her. She was too young to understand why she couldn't stay in her own home, why someone else had to care for her while he struggled to hold on to the land. It had been hard enough making her understand that her mother wasn't coming back, that death was forever.

He brushed a single tear from her face. “You be a good girl for Miss Olivia."

She nodded, and he forced himself to his feet and turned to find that Olivia was waiting outside in the hall. “Just leave the door open,” she said as he stepped out of the room. “I'll stay up here with her. So she won't be afraid."

He studied her in the soft light spilling out of the bedroom, deciding she looked older but hadn't aged. There was a staid elegance about her, and he fought the urge to trace the gentle curve of her face with his fingers, just to see if it felt as soft as it looked. “I'll never be able to thank you enough for doing this."

Her only response was a slight nod of her head. “Good night, then."

Knowing he had been dismissed, he nodded. “Good night."

* * * *

Olivia closed the door behind her and sank against the smooth polished surface. She couldn't do this. She just couldn't. There was no way she could endure seeing Matthew Bowen at her dining-room table every night when the slightest touch of his hand nearly overwhelmed her.

Already she felt bereft of his presence, the room oddly empty, and she caught the masculine scent of shaving soap and leather that lingered behind to taunt her. She folded her arms, as if to shield herself from the very thought of him, and crossed the room to turn the covers down on her bed.

She hesitated before turning to retrieve her nightgown from the armoire and peered over the side of the bed. The little girl had drifted off to sleep, clutching the doll to her chest, and Olivia studied her for a long time.

She was a pretty child, and the resemblance to her father was evident. Still, Olivia couldn't ignore the features she'd obviously inherited from her mother. She'd only once actually spoken to Matthew's wife, and she cringed now at the memory. She'd been hurrying down the street, on her way to the mill, when she'd encountered a group of women gathered in front of the dry goods store. Matthew's wife had stood in the center, holding her new baby, while everyone ooh'd and aah'd over the child.

They'd all seen Olivia, and there was no way to turn and run. Instead, she nodded politely and tried to walk past them without stopping. But someone couldn't resist calling out to her, “Olivia, don't you want to see the baby?"

She could have kept walking but the sweetly spoken dare had galled her to the core. She turned and glanced at the child and the mother.

"She's just an angel,” the new mother said. “And looks just like Matthew."

"Well, I'm sure you're both relieved by that."

With that she turned and continued on her way, ignoring the collective gasps of shock and indignation. Let them say anything they liked about her except that she was a coward.

Tonight she had felt so awkward, standing there while Matthew coaxed the child into staying behind, and shaken to realize how deeply he cared for her. Olivia tried to remember her father displaying such open affection toward her or her brother, even once. Dinners had been cold, tense affairs, and she never dared speak up during the meal, much less chatter on about her day.

Shaking herself from such self-pitying thoughts, she turned toward the bureau and removed her nightgown and began undressing. The gown had barely settled around her feet before Aunt Eula tapped on the door and poked her head inside.

"I see she's fast asleep."

"Yes,” Olivia whispered. “I wish you would stay in here with her. I could take your room."

"No need to do that,” her aunt dismissed the suggestion. “She'll be fine."

"But I don't know anything about children."

"Merciful heavens, you were a little girl once. Don't you remember?"

"Not really,” Olivia admitted. “Will she sleep all night?"

"Of course,” Eula assured her, backing out of the room. Just before the door closed, she added, “Unless she wets the bed."

Chapter Six

Olivia slept fitfully, jumping at every sound, but the little girl never woke up during the night. Finally, she dozed off and slept soundly. Sunlight streamed through the gauzy curtains that framed her windows, and Olivia couldn't help yawning as she peered over the edge of the bed to check on the child.

The trundle bed was empty! Olivia bolted from beneath the covers and snatched the blanket from the tiny bed. Nothing. She dropped to her knees and peered under the bed. Nothing. She scanned every corner of the room and even searched the armoire in case Sarah had climbed inside to hide. Olivia's insides quaked. Dear Lord, the child had disappeared! What in the world would she tell Matthew?

She snatched her dressing gown from the peg and scrambled down the stairs as she dealt with the sleeves and the sash.

"Aunt Eula!” she called out when she reached the bottom of the staircase. “Maddy, where are you?"

"We're in here, dear!” Eula's bright voice reached her ears and Olivia's bare feet nearly slipped out from under her as she turned toward the dining room.

"I can't find—"

The sight of Sarah seated at the dining-room table, eating a biscuit dripping with jelly, made Olivia weak with relief. She caught hold of the back of a chair and tried to slow her breathing.

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I didn't—” she began, but her words dissolved when she realized how foolish her reaction had been. Naturally, Eula had come to claim the child for breakfast and left Olivia to sleep. She felt like a goose. “Oh, I just didn't realize Sarah was downstairs already."

"And already dressed,” Eula pointed out, glancing at her niece's bare feet and haphazardly belted robe. “You'd better be getting dressed yourself. You two have a big day ahead of you."

"What do you mean?” Olivia sank into a chair and gratefully accepted the steaming cup of coffee Eula poured for her. “I'm expected at the mill this morning, and then—"

"Sarah can go along with you,” Eula said by way of dismissing Olivia's objections. “I have two separate committee meetings at the church. I'll be there most of the day, and a child can't be expected to sit through all of that."

"But Maddy can—"

Eula shook her head. “Today is her day off and she's going to visit her sister."

Olivia nodded. Maddy's days off meant as much to her as the salary she now drew. All day Sunday, half a day Saturday, and all day Tuesday, except for the time she spent preparing breakfast, although they were subject to change without notice. Olivia couldn't ask her to stay home just because she felt awkward around the little girl.

Olivia glanced at Sarah to find the child eyeing her with undisguised skepticism, but she couldn't blame her. What did she know about children?

She was trying not to resent her aunt's good intentions, and under different circumstances, Olivia probably would have done the same thing.

There were many in the community, men
and
women, who found themselves left to raise families alone, but most had relatives to help them manage. Those who didn't usually remarried as soon as possible, just as Nancy said. Something twisted inside her at the thought of Matthew marrying again out of haste and necessity, but the thought of him marrying for love was no less comforting.

* * * *

The mill was a noisy place, filled with men's voices and whining machinery. Sarah's bottom lip began to quiver and she shook her head when Olivia bid her inside the entrance.

"Don't be afraid.” She tried to think of something reassuring to say. “It's just a lot of saws and—"

Sarah's eyes widened in alarm and Olivia shut up before she had the child so frightened she wouldn't go near the place.

At last she held out her hand and smiled. “Come along, Sarah, nothing's going to hurt you."

The little girl took her hand without hesitation, and Olivia was startled by the feel of those tiny fingers clamped around her own. How easily the child trusted her, and she felt the need to be worthy of such faith.

She squeezed Sarah's hand and led the way inside the office. The clerk, Homer McNeely, bolted from his chair even before she closed the door.

"M-Miss Chandler!” he stammered. “We just about gave up on you coming in today."

Olivia frowned slightly. “I'm just a little later than usual. You know I would have sent word if I weren't coming in today."

Chagrined, he nodded. “Yes'm, I knew that."

"This is Sarah,” Olivia said by way of introduction and explanation. “She'll be visiting with me for a few days, and I brought her to see the mill."

Homer relaxed somewhat and smiled. “Howdy-do, Miss Sarah."

Sarah tightened her hold on Olivia's hand and huddled close to her side. Olivia felt her heart swell at the gesture, though being preferred to Homer was no vote of confidence. She smiled down at the little girl. “Why don't we go upstairs and you can see where I do my work?"

Sarah nodded, but Homer bounded from his desk and blocked the way. “I don't think your office has been swept out yet. Wait here and I'll go up and do it."

"Don't be silly.” Olivia brushed past him. “I don't mind a little dust."

He caught hold of her arm and pleaded, “Miss Olivia, wait!"

"Have you taken leave of your senses?” she demanded in a hushed whisper.

He shook his head miserably, dropping his hand. “No, ma'am."

"Then stand aside."

"Yes, ma'am."

Olivia led Sarah upstairs. Just as they reached the top step, she heard voices coming from her office. The first she didn't recognize, but there was no mistaking the second.

"I'm sure you'll be very pleased,” Rodger said with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

The second party was not impressed. “I expect no less."

Olivia turned the doorknob slowly and opened the door without a sound. The room was filled with cigar smoke and the stench nearly choked her. Both men stood facing the large window with their backs to her, and Rodger was using his cigar to point out the finer points of the mill.

"I'm sure you know the facility is the largest of its kind in the area. We can produce more lumber in a week than most in a month."

Olivia closed the door none too gently, startling Rodger so that he dropped his cigar. The stranger turned around, cool as a cucumber, and smiled. “You must be Miss Chandler. We've been expecting you."

BOOK: Unforsaken
2.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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