Romancing Olive by Holly Bush

was giving Mary. To be included and wanted was so evident on the girl’s face that Olive wanted to shout, ‘yes’ in her stead. Jacob held out his hand and Mary looked up to Olive as if searching for approval. Olive smiled her response and Mary laid her hand in Jacob’s. He led the girl slowly through the steps and when they were finally turning corners with ease and speed, Olive saw what she thought she might never see. Mary was smiling and glancing right to left as if to be assured that all saw her. Dancing. Olive clapped and the children called to Mary as she spun by in Jacob’s arms.
    And Olive knew, as if time had stopped, that this man would be the only man in her lifetime to reach this far into her heart. She would be able to say, when going to face her God that she had loved. Maybe not love in the romantic sense, the intimate sense, but that still clearly, she had loved. The thought gave her pause and brought calmness to her soul that was unequaled. The fact that Jacob would not return that love did not in the least diminish the light in Olive’s heart. And Olive understood with new clarity that to love was a far greater gift than to be loved.
    Jacob guided Mary through the crowd of dancers. Olive smiled her gratitude and a smile grew on Jacob’s face as he looked at her over the tops of the children’s heads. “Mary, you looked as though you had been dancing all your life,” Olive said as she turned to the girl.
    Mary’s cheeks were flushed and she held her head tall when she responded. “Its not as hard as it looks.”
    “Jack Steele said a storm’s blowing our way. Best be getting home,” Jacob said.
    Olive looked around the barn, one last time, recalling what a wonderful day it had been. They said their goodbyes and loaded the children into the wagon. The wind began to whip up and Olive squinted her eyes into the dust.
    “Could be a bad one,” Jacob said. “Climb in the back and cover yourself and the children with the canvas. The rain will be following.”
    Olive stood in the back of the wagon and swayed with the wind. The air grew cold and Olive fought to spread the heavy fabric out and not lose it to the storm. The rain fell in sheets and the children were soon soaked and frightened. Olive was growing afraid as well with the constant streaks of lightning etching the skies and the roar of thunder following closely. Mary held John and Peg and Luke huddled on either side of Olive while she held Mark tightly against her. When the wagon stopped, Olive peered out from the thin shelter the canvas gave. Jacob had climbed down from the wagon and was leading the terrified, neighing horse forward. The wagon started again with a lurch and Olive said a silent prayer that they would get home.
    After what seemed like an eternity, the wagon stopped again and Jacob lifted the canvas. “We’re home,” he shouted.
    The rain was still falling hard but the wind had died down and Olive heard the rumble of thunder at a distance. The children dashed to the house, soaked and Jacob led the horse to the barn. Olive lit lamps, while Mary started a fire and the children began to peel out of wet things. Jacob stepped into the house, boots squishing, water pouring off of his hat.
    “The boys will have to stay in here tonight. The wind tore some of the barn roof off and our beddings soaked,” he said.
    “That’s fine, Jacob. I confess, I left the shutters above the bed open this morning. It was so beautiful out when we left. Our bed is soaked as well. I just told the children we’ll sleep in front of the fireplace,” Olive said.
    Jacob kissed the heads of the children and turned from the puddle he stood in.
    “Where are you going?” Olive asked. Her teeth chattered as she looked up at him. “You said your bed is soaked. We’ll make room.”
    “Wouldn’t be proper, Olive.”
    Olive looked up as she helped Peg into her nightgown. “Oh, fiddlee dee dee, who’s to know.  And anyway,” Olive said and stared into