Romancing Olive by Holly Bush Read Free Book Online Page A

the stove. Olive straightened from the table, pleased with what she had accomplished but exhausted from the task. She pressed her fingertips into the small of her back and arched, stretching and relieving the ache. John and Luke wore new denim pants and Peg was twirling in a simple new dress. Other than knowing the exact location of every book in the library back home, sewing was Olive’s skill and her crafts revealed her passion. Peg’s gingham dress was trimmed with a white collar. Olive combed the child’s hair as Peg sat still on her lap and reverently touched the folds where her skirt settled over her legs. The hair was knotted and the combing nearly brought Peg to tears. But she bravely faced the pain, for the prospect of a matching bow in her hair.
    Mary worked at her stitches slowly and Olive felt she was stubbornly determined to complete the dress. Olive was pleased and hoped the sewing would give them some common ground. John’s flannel shirt was cut and Olive pinned the seams and sat down at the table to stitch.
    “Daddy’s home,” Luke cried. He, John and Peg ran out the door to greet the wagon.
    * * *
    Jacob kissed the children as they smiled and clung to him and he noticed Peg’s hair was different. It was combed and plaited and tied with a ribbon that matched . . . a new dress. That’s why she was gibbering and touching the fabric. Jacob stood in the doorway, finding Miss Wilkins and her niece hunched over needles.
    “What’s this?” Jacob said.
    “Hello, Mr. Butler.” Miss Wilkins greeted him with barely a glance.
    “What’s this?” he repeated.
    “Pardon?” she said and looked up.
    “Miss Wilkins? Can I talk to you outside?” The children looked into Jacob’s eyes as they clung to him and slowly shimmied down his arms and legs.
    “Yes?” Olive Wilkins said as they stepped off the porch and away from the house.
    “What is Peg wearing?”
    “I bought fabric for clothes for John and Mary and I noticed that your children needed some new garments as well. We’ve had a very productive and pleasant day. Thankfully, Mary started beans for . . .”
    “My children don’t need new clothes,” Jacob interrupted.
    * * *
    In the span one sunset brought, Olive knew from the tone of his voice that Jacob Butler was angry. But she had not expected this growling voice to come out of twitching lips. He stood, hands on his hips, feet spread, obviously expecting a reply. If he had been upset about the bacon she imagined he was furious now.
    “Yes, Mr. Butler, your children do need new clothing. Peg’s petticoat barely covers her bottom and the holes are bigger than what’s left.” Olive watched the man’s face contort and his tension escalate. “Luke’s pants come to his knee and Mark’s diapers are threadbare.”
    “I know what my children’s clothes look like, Miss Wilkins.”
    Olive pursed her lips at the outrage in his whisper. “Fiddlee dee dee, Mr. Butler. It’s just a new dress and pants. What’s the uproar?”
    “I don’t have the money for the cloth and I won’t accept charity. The clothes will be returned to you,” he said.
    Olive’s eyes rounded in horror at the thought of taking the cherished dress from little Peg. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she removed her wire rim glasses. “Pride, Mr. Butler, is a sin. And to think you would turn your sin to hurt that child. Well . . .”
    “My sin. My children,” he shouted.
    Olive inelegantly stamped her foot, surprising herself, and her finger came within an inch of Jacob Butler’s face. She shook it and shouted a lame threat, “If you so much as dare to take that dress from Peg, I’ll . . . I’ll leave . . . and I won’t come back.”
    Mr. Butler harrumphed and a smile curled one side of his mouth. “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass.”
    Olive fiddled trying hurriedly to rehook her glasses over her ears, snorting and blustering. She ran straight into Jacob Butler’s broad back. Olive stumbled backwards,