Page 11 of Mail-Order Bride Substitute
For a time, they stayed admiring the animals and discussing plans. Matt was the first to say he was going home. Luke followed a minute later. Then Andy and Wally wandered away to their houses, leaving Riley and Alfred.
Riley was in no hurry to go. Olivia was ensconced in his house. He was unwilling to return and face her.
Alfred cleared his throat. “If I may speak?”
“Have your say.”
“Miss Olivia is a fine, fine woman. You’ll not find fault with her.”
Riley understood Alfred’s words to be a warning as much as a statement. “That’s to be seen.” He straightened. He might as well leave.
Alfred followed him. “Her well-being is my concern.”
Riley slowed. “Do you mean to do the work she’s meant to do?” Having someone make the meals she should make and do the chores that were rightfully hers if she thought she’d be a Mrs. Shannon would only delay Olivia’s realization that this wasn’t the life for her.
Alfred shook his head. “She won’t be asking nor allowing such. Miss Olivia is a determined young lady.” The warning note was impossible to miss.
“It’s admirable that you are so loyal to her.”
The changing expressions on Alfred’s face made Riley think he fought between being a humble servant and wanting to spring to Olivia’s defense. They reached the house before Alfred could say anything more. The older man gave him a warning look and retired to his room.
Olivia looked up from where she sat on the floor before an open trunk lifting out books. “I’m unpacking.”
“I guessed as much.” He remained at the doorway, uncertain what to do…sit in the armchair, go to his room for the night, or— no, he would not offer to help Olivia.
She studied him. “Am I keeping you from something?” Before he could answer, she scrambled to her feet. “I’ll leave this for now and go to my room.”
“That’s not necessary.” Now, why had he said that? If she retired for the night, he wouldn’t have to think about her. Except he knew that wasn’t true. Whether studying the horses or walking across the yard, she was stuck in his thoughts like a big old bur.
“Fine. Do you mind if I put books on the shelves?”
“There’s plenty of room.” Even if she would have to repack them in a few days.
She arranged several dozen in the bookcase, effectively eclipsing his titles, and stepped back to admire them. He tried to read the spines without her noticing.
“I have more but those are the ones I plan to read soonest.” Seeing he watched her, she smiled. “Feel free to enjoy them too.” The placement of one book seemed not to please her and she removed the red and gold colored volume. Before she slipped it into place again, he saw the title.Around the World in 80 Days.
“You have that story?” He’d heard about the tale and wished to read about the adventures of those trying to circumnavigate the globe in that space of time, but he’d never gotten around to ordering a copy of the book
She tipped the volume toward him. “Take it and enjoy.”
He hesitated a moment. Then realizing reading one of her books would in no way make him agreeable to having her stay, he thanked her and took it then stood there, awkward and uncertain. His thoughts twisted, sending static up his arms like he’d rubbed woolen material over them. Should he retreat to the armchair and begin reading? He watched her, drawn in by her concentration. She stroked each of her books as if they were friends. His gaze shifted to the easel by the window. What kind of pictures would she paint? Still life or mountain scenery? And a piano. What sort of woman was this?
* * *
Olivia turned backto her trunk, leaving Riley looking befuddled. She understood he wasn’t sure what to do or how to act around her. But he’d soon grow accustomed to her presence and get used to the idea that she was staying.
She pulled another handful of things from the trunk and looked through them, setting aside the books. There were too many to display. Besides, it would be nice to change the selection on the bookshelf from time to time. She lifted the framed photograph of her parents. They had been so young. So handsome and so much in love still. She must have sighed or exhaled loudly for Riley took a step toward her.
“What is it?” The sound of concern in his voice sent a tremble through her heart.
“I’m looking at a picture of my mother and father and remembering them.”
“Good memories?” Again, he sounded like he cared.
“Yes. They were loving parents.” A lump lodged in her throat, making her voice hoarse.
“What do you remember of them?” He leaned against the wall; as if he had nothing more to do than listen to her.
