Over the course of a week, she learned many things about the new life she was living and the people she was living it with. She learned that Helen and Matthew were daily visitors, that William and his wife were rarely seen and that Henry had not been a visitor more often than holidays. She couldn’t understand that, considering the kind of family he’d had. Eric was also there more often than not.
She took the time to wonder if his visits were more frequent now that she was here. She tried hard not to think about Eric all day. He was the brother of the man she was supposed to marry. She hadn’t corresponded with him, and he hadn’t paid for her ticket to come. He was under no obligation to her. She was someone else’s intended. She could only imagine what he thought of her decision to marry a stranger across the country.
But when he visited, her doubts and fears seemed to disappear. He was so friendly and kind; she had no time to think negative thoughts. He took her on a tour of the house and surrounding land a few days after her arrival and had been thoughtful enough to bring along a basket with fresh fruit, cornbread and small jars of a delicious strawberry drink Hannah had been making for her children since they were very young.
“This is a concoction my mother is famous for.” Eric had boasted.
She remembered laughing and saying, “Famous where? I’ve never heard of her strawberry drink before.” and not even caring that it sounded blunt and a little rude. Eric never took it that way. Her conversations with him were always smooth, flowing naturally from one topic to another, with a lot of laughing along the way.
They had spent that entire day together. The only possibly negative thing she noticed of the day was that he always steered the conversation away from Henry if the topic was broached. Olive had seen very little grieving of the brother that had so recently passed, not just by Eric but by his siblings, as well. Helen did not seem to be naturally friendly, but the rest of Eric’s siblings were.
Still she had not seen one shed tear from any of them. Their mother was the only one she had ever seen show emotion about her deceased son.
Nevertheless, the rest of the day proved to be a true blessing from God. It was one of the most wonderful days she had ever had in her entire lifetime. She couldn’t imagine a day in her future that could make her feel as comfortable and happy as that day.
Since then, she’d found it nearly impossible to keep him off her mind. She wanted to be with him wherever he was, no matter what time of day or night it was. She wanted to feel his hands and his lips against hers.
It was during these times of elation that her mind would begin to fill with doubts. It was wrong for her to feel that way about him. He was Henry’s brother. She still felt some kind of obligation to the deceased man, and she didn’t know why. She wondered what his family must think of her. They hadn’t once asked where she’d come from, but she suspected they talked about it when she wasn’t around.
It was with those thoughts that she woke that morning, exactly one week since her arrival. She looked around the small room, stretching her arms out wide and breathing in the fresh scent of coffee brewing.
She sat up and let her small legs hang over the side. Her feet touched the cold floor for just a moment before she slid them into the little soft slippers Amy had given her. Wrapping her robe around her, she stopped in front of the mirror and poured some water from the pitcher into a pretty ceramic bowl. As always, she hesitated before dipping her hands into the water and washing her face. It had become a habit when she was in Virginia to hesitate because oftentimes the water was very cold.
It was rarely cold here in Nevada. The weather was completely different. But she still hesitated.
Five minutes later, face clean, hair brushed and pulled back behind her to fall loose and curly down her back, Olive walked out of the room and down the hall toward the kitchen and dining room. There was a very long carved wooden table with matching chairs that took up an entire room size. The kitchen was open to the table, doubling the size of the room. Henry had made the table for his family several years past.
She heard voices and stopped, standing silently, listening to what they were saying.
“I still don’t see the point in all of this.” It was Helen she heard first, and the tone of her voice is what had made Olive stop.
“What do you mean by ‘point’?” It was Eric that responded. Olive’s heart skipped a beat, and she berated herself for eavesdropping but didn’t continue to the kitchen. “Why does there have to be a point in helping someone?”
“She’s a complete stranger. Maybe the letters were forged, and she found a way to move into a home when she did not have one?”