Free Romancing Olive by Holly Bush

The only redeeming moment on the steps of the church that morning came when Jacob Butler defended Mary to that odious woman.
    What a picture he made standing tall, holding Mary close and comforting her, while setting the boundaries for his make shift family. He was without a doubt the most handsome man she’d ever met.  And, more importantly, she believed Jacob Butler was as loving a father as her own father had been. Olive prepared dinner and scowled and talked under her breath until she noticed the children staring.
    “We didn’t do anything wrong,” Luke said softly.
    Olive’s shoulders dropped. “I know children. I’m sorry. I am not angry at you.”
    Olive sat down and the three children approached her cautiously.
    “Mary let him have it,” Luke said nodding, wide eyed.
    Olive noticed John’s head drop. “What started the argument children?” she asked.
    Luke and Peg looked first at each other and then to John’s bowed head. Luke shook his head softly at his sister, but Peg turned to Olive anyway. “He said something mean.”
    “Who said something mean, Peg?” Olive asked.
    “That boy,” she whispered and scrunched her face into a scowl.
    “Bertram?”
    John ran to the door and Luke made a face at his sister and followed. Peg’s shoulders dropped and she looked up to Olive obviously battling where her loyalties lay. Her eyes darted and she eventually ran to the door to follow the boys. Olive wondered what Bertram had said to throw Mary into such a fit. But knowing the attitude of Bertram’s mother made Olive cringe at what offense the boy may have offered.
    * * *
    That evening as Olive continued the story she had begun to read the night before, Mary crept into the house. Olive started to stand, but a look from Mr. Butler sat her back in her chair. She finished reading early, amidst protests of the children, but she found she could not concentrate on the story as she watched Mary curl into a ball in front of the fire. Olive lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling and listened to the quiet of the house and her heart beating as she replayed the scene in front of the church in her head. She jumped as she felt the blanket lift and Peg snuggled close to her. The child pushed Olive’s hair away and she felt Peg’s warm breath on her ear.
    “That boy called John a bad name,” the little girl said.
    Olive turned her head in the dark and whispered, “What did he say, Peg?”
    “That boy says John don’t talk on account of he’s a dummy. That John’s an Indian.”
    Olive narrowed her eyes. “An Indian?”
    “Yeah, that John’s caught something from Mark to make him an Indian.”
    Olive whispered softly, “An idiot? Did Bertram call John an idiot?” Olive watched the shadow of Peg’s head nod. “John is not an idiot, Peg. Do you understand?”
    Peg nodded again in the dark and lay her head on Olive’s shoulder. When Olive thought the child slept, she heard Peg’s terrified words. “Am I goin’ to catched something from Mark?”
    Olive’s eyes closed and she pulled Peg tight against her. “No, Peg. Mark’s problems are not something one catches. He is not an idiot and neither is John.”
    Peg yawned softly and relaxed. But Olive could not. Mary fought to defend herself and her brother and Mark. Tears of regret formed in Olive’s eyes as she thought of her foregone conclusions concerning her niece. I condemned her as well. Olive had never faced the kind of viciousness that Mary had and she found herself wishing she had gotten a shot in at the boy as Mr. Butler’s friend held him. What an unOlive like thought. Words were how disagreements were settled in her world. But here, faced with harshness, what words would she have to solve the prejudice and hate spilling out of Bertram’s mouth.
    * * *
    “Good morning Mary,” Olive said and smiled as the morning sun poured through the windows. Mary looked grim and wiped her face with a rag. “Where is the dress you wore to church yesterday? We