Page 22 of Mail-Order Bride Substitute
She harumphed again.
“I know you two need time alone to sort things out.” He indicated she should go to the other room.
Rather than make a scene, she did so and perched on the edge of the sofa, refusing to look at Riley.
Alfred remained standing at the doorway as if uncertain if he should join them or retreat to his room then he fixed his gaze on Olivia. “Mrs. Bennet needed my help. She works hard around here. Not that she’s complaining. She’s used to hard work. Why, did you know her husband died twelve years ago and in those twelve years she’s run a boarding house on her own, sold it, and moved west to run another? Sold again and kept moving. Said she’d heard so many stories about Montana that she decided she needed to see it for herself. Saw an ad for a housekeeper and here she is. A hard-working woman I’d say.” He stopped, blinking his eyes several times.
Olivia stared at the man who had accompanied her on the journey and before that had taken care of many of her needs.
“Alfred, that’s the most I’ve heard you say at one time.”
He ducked his head. “My mouth appears to have sprung loose. I talked all afternoon to Mrs. B. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go to my room. I have a book to read.”
Olivia stared at the door that closed behind him. “Well, I never.”
“Nope. I’m sure you haven’t. It’s like I’ve been trying to tell you. Things are different out west and even more so on a ranch. Here, we’re all equal. We’re judged for how we do our work and how we treat others.” He returned his gaze to the book in his lap.
“Strange that you should say that when you refuse to judge me for what I do. Instead, you judge me by what someone else has done.” She jumped to her feet, her insides full of anger and regret. She headed for the piano. “Would you object to me playing?”
“Not at all.” His tone was cool. No doubt offended by her critical words. He turned back to his book. Dismissing her. Again.
She took her place and was soon lost in the solace of the music. Her soul soothed, her fingers grew idle. “Music means a lot to me. I suppose it’s a useless skill to have here. It doesn’t feed or warm anyone. There are those who might consider it a waste of time.” She turned on the stool to watch him.
He sat with his head tipped back on the chair. Had he fallen asleep? But no, he released a gust of air and looked at her. “Anything that makes life more enjoyable is of value. Please, continue.” He nodded toward the piano.
She resumed playing. And blamed the power of the music for the way her eyes stung with tears. She sniffled. He approved of her piano playing. She blinked. He’d thanked her for the meal even if it wasn’t perfect. Next time she’d do better, and she certainly wouldn’t make petit fours again. Come to think of it, he hadn’t criticized the cake even though it was nothing like she expected.
If only he would give her a fair chance.
Her emotions flowed through her fingers, and she realized she played Beethoven’s Fifth with undue vigor. She continued the piece until she felt better then began to play a favorite hymn. The words remind her of God’s care and faithfulness.
She would depend on God—not man—to meet her needs. A home. Appreciation. Acceptance. A safe place for her heart.
6
Riley listened to Olivia play the piano and grinned. She expressed her emotions through her fingers on the keys. She didn’t like being told he didn’t believe she’d fit in here. On the other hand, he’d told her he thought music was valuable. Poor woman was probably confused by his comments. He enjoyed the angry piece. And then the song changed to a soothing, sweet sound.
He relaxed. He didn’t care for her to go to bed angry. It troubled him that he felt this way. Shouldn’t he be happy if she was upset? Wouldn’t that prove him right? Being right didn’t feel so good. He was glad no one could ask him to explain himself. Realizing the piano keys were silent, he pushed to his feet.
“It’s time for bed.”
She closed the keyboard cover. “Good night.” She slipped past him and shut her bedroom door.
“Good night,” he murmured to the empty room. He went to his own quarters and got ready for bed. It had been a good day. The colts were ready to sell. The new pasture was getting fenced. He’d enjoyed music and yes, he’d appreciated a meal waiting for him when he returned at the end of the day.
Maybe he’d gotten what he’d sought when he arranged for a bride. The thought needed adjusting but he fell asleep before he could rethink it.
Over the passing days,life slipped into a routine of sorts. He and Matt worked on the fence. Luke continued to work on the young horses, so they’d be in top form when Mr. Dahl came to inspect them. Andy had not yet returned. The boy was likely glad to be away on his own.
Riley smiled as he hammered in a staple to hold the fence wire. What surprise would Olivia have for him today? Three days ago, she’d made biscuits. They were oddly shaped and not as light and fluffy as Gwen’s or Honor’s. But as good as those he’d made on occassion.
Two days ago, she’d served him a meal complete with gravy that was lumpy, but it was gravy. Yesterday, she’d made cake again. A big one. Chocolate with fluffy icing. Yes, it had dipped in the middle, and was a little doughy toward the center, but it tasted fine. He’d told her it was good, and she’d beamed with pleasure.
He recalled her words with a grin. “I told you I’d learn what to do.”
He’d chuckled. “So, you did.” He’d leaned closer, thinking to tease her. He was close enough to kiss her on the forehead if he chose. She’d closed her eyes and tipped her face toward him.
His hammer hung idle as he thought of the temptation of her lips. Red and full and so inviting. What would it be like to kiss her?
