OLIVIA
Chapter Twenty-Five

Cal watched the scene with McBride and his wife with a mixture of anger and shock. Had his father been right? Why had he never noticed this before? No, this wasn’t right…there had to be a mistake. He simply couldn’t believe that something could have been going on between them that he wouldn’t have been aware of. He was a very intuitive man.

McBride stood and stepped back from Olivia, who was now asleep, drugged by the medicine Dr. Covington had left for her. He turned to face him, rubbing his face at the awkwardness of the moment.

"Mr. Hockley, sir--"

"What do you think you were doing?" Cal snapped at him. "How dare you put your hands on my wife?"

"I’m sorry, sir. I know I overstepped my boundaries, and I apologize for it," McBride answered quickly. "I was only trying to be of help."

Cal glanced over at his wife, lying quietly in the bed. She looked so peaceful now, compared to the hysteria she was in earlier. When she had seen him, she was almost frantic with fear. However, when McBride stepped in, she immediately calmed down. He didn’t know which was worse--the fact that she had reacted the way she did to him, her husband, or the way that she had reacted to his valet.

He looked at McBride suspiciously, not sure how to handle this situation. Truthfully, he was shocked and quite disturbed at her behavior. It was clear she was having a delirious episode of some sort, one which he was ill-prepared to deal with. If McBride hadn’t stepped in, who knows what she would have done? But still…it wasn’t so much that he had stepped in to calm her, but it was the way in which he had done it. The same way he had when she had fallen down the stairs in the first place.

Instantly, the feeling of guilt associated with that incident mixed with what had just occurred sent a sensation of uneasiness over him. He was not entirely comfortable with this guilt he carried around. Every attempt he had made at reconciliation had failed, leaving him more than a little frustrated with the situation.

McBride continued to stand there, looking very repentant of his actions. Cal couldn’t help but wonder if the sincerity he projected was indeed that. He had never had cause to distrust McBride or even to question his loyalty--until now. And even with that, he had a hard time believing that his valet and his wife…well, the thought was too ridiculous to even contemplate.

He motioned for McBride to follow him out of the room. Once they entered the sitting room, Cal turned to him. "Your familiarity and intimate knowledge of my wife is rather troubling to me, McBride," Cal said, narrowing his hard gaze on him. "Your intentions, however honorable they may have been, were totally and completely out of line. I do hope you have a reasonable explanation for your actions."

"Yes, sir. Again, I apologize. I was merely trying to diffuse a situation that was quickly getting out of control. Mrs. Hockley needed to be restrained from doing further harm to herself."

It wasn’t lost on Cal that he hadn’t been the one able to restrain her. He, her husband, could only stand by and watch the scene as if it were happening to someone else. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought McBride was throwing out a thinly veiled insult towards him.

He crossed his arms and made a slow, sweeping circle around him. "That may have been the case, but what I witnessed seemed to be a little more than trying to diffuse the situation. My wife’s reaction to you was quite unexpected. Wouldn’t you agree?"

McBride gave no reaction whatsoever to Cal’s accusation. He just stood there as if at attention. If he were hiding something, he was doing a good job of it. He looked up at Cal, sincerity written all over his features.

"Mr. Hockley, I assure you I meant no disrespect towards you or your wife. My loyalty is to you, sir."

Cal eyed him; his answer, although an acceptable one, seemed just a little too glib for his taste. However, since he refused to believe that anything was going on between this man and Olivia, he decided to let the matter stand for now. But even with that being said, he would certainly be aware of anything out of the way or suspicious. He was many things, but a fool was not one of them.

"Very well, McBride. You may leave now, but know this..." Cal stepped close, nailing him with his eyes and lowering his voice in the process. "I can be your greatest ally or your worst enemy. Where you stand is entirely up to you. Am I making myself in any way unclear?"

"No, sir," he answered, his stance never wavering.

Cal latched his hands behind his back as he drew himself up. He gave him one more piercing look before finally sending him on his way.

*****

The following week, on July twenty-eighth, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. Nathan immediately summoned Cal and the other board members to discuss what this could mean for Hockley Steel. For days, he was in meetings, leaving early and coming home late, whatever needed to be done for the company’s benefit.

Olivia was grateful that Cal was gone much of the time. This gave her the opportunity to think about her situation and what she might or might not do about it. Her mother was of little help, especially after she discovered that Emma and Joshua had eloped. She declared that Emma had brought shame upon their name with her actions and she didn’t know how she could hold up her head in polite society again. She carried on so that one would have thought a death had come to the family.

As the days passed, Olivia’s recovery increased. Dr. Covington had arranged for a wheelchair to be brought to her so that she could get around until the cast could come off of her leg. Even though it was a blessing to her, she was still forced to be dependent on everyone around her, something she was not happy about.

Olivia sighed as she sat in the wheelchair, looking out of the window in her suite. The sound of the door opening had her turning to it to see Cal walking in. He was bearing a large bouquet of flowers and smiling brightly at her.

"There you are, darling. How was your day?" He bent to kiss her on the cheek, but she turned her face from him before he could accomplish it. He held his position for a moment and then slowly stood up. He took a deep breath and stepped back from her. He laid the flowers aside, sat back on the arm of the nearby chair, and crossed his arms as he looked over at her. "I see your mood hasn’t improved any."

She didn’t answer, but it should have been obvious by her response to him.

"How long are you going to continue on with this? It’s been weeks now," he said, impatience lining his voice.

She turned towards him then, a scowl marring her features. "Do you think I can turn my emotions off and on at will?"

He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What I think is that I’m growing weary of your behavior. You won’t talk to me, you turn me away at every hand, you have even barred me from my own bedroom." He huffed as he stood, hooking his hand on his waist and turning away from her at the same time.

"I don’t know what you want me to say. I can’t…" She paused and closed her eyes. "I just can’t," she finished unhappily.

"How can I explain my actions if you won’t hear me out?" he asked as he whirled back around to face her. "You can’t keep shutting me out like this." He stepped closer and laid his hands on each side of her wheelchair, bearing down on her with his penetrating stare. "This has to come to an end, Olivia."

Her breathing was coming erratically now. Having him this close was intimidating and frightening to her. She swallowed hard and tried to push her chair back, but he refused to let her move. "Please, don’t do that," she barely managed to get out.

"I’m tired of being shut out. You’re my wife, for God’s sake! I can’t take much more of this," he nearly growled as he gripped the arms of the chair.

Olivia could feel the intensity coming off of him as he spoke. "Please, Cal…" she whimpered softly. "Don’t…please don’t."

A puzzled frown came across his face at her reaction. "What?" He shook his head and then bent on one knee in front of her. When he looked back up at her, confusion and frustration were clearly written on his face. "Olivia, what is happening? How could things between us have gotten so completely out of hand? What do I have to do to make this up to you?"

She couldn’t answer him, for she didn’t know the answer. She only knew that his presence made her uncomfortable and she wanted him to leave. She didn’t want to feel this way. It was simply the way she felt. Her whole world had been turned upside down, and the reason, the only reason, as far as she was concerned, was right in front of her. Small tears formed in her eyes as she shook her head. "There’s nothing you can do right now but leave me alone. I need time to sort this out, and your pressuring me isn’t helping."

Cal stared at her and then rubbed his face with his hand. Suddenly, he laughed, but it was the laughter of travesty and not humor. "I came home early because I wanted to tell you something I was sure would make you happy, but now I see that nothing I do will change how you obviously feel." He slowly stood and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it. When he looked back over at her, he shrugged lightly. "I’m sure it makes little difference to you, but I have arranged for us to make a trip to California. I have some business to attend to out there, and I thought it would be a good time for us to get away, just you and me."

Olivia swallowed and wiped the tears from her eyes. Had he proposed a trip like this a month ago, she would have jumped at the chance without a second thought. But now she didn’t know how she could even consider such a venture with things being the way they were.

He stood and walked over to where he had laid the flowers down and picked them up. "I’ll have Angelina put these in a vase for you," he said, staring down at them. "I’ll leave you now, but will you at least think about my offer?"

Silence filled the room, and when she didn’t answer, he gave a short nod and let out an exasperated sigh. "Very well," he said, and made his way to the door. Just before he opened it, he turned to her and gave her one final look. "I am truly sorry that I have hurt you, Olivia. If you’ve believed nothing else I’ve said, please believe that."

Before she could respond, he was out the door and closing it behind him. She bit her lip, letting out a frustrated breath in the process. She rubbed her temple and tried to quench the sympathy that he had evoked in her. She wasn’t ready to feel sorry for him. She wasn’t ready to feel anything like that. But in spite of it all, she was feeling it. She even truly believed he was sorry, but was it enough?

Frustrated and agitated, she gripped the wheels of the chair and pushed herself forward until she reached the door. She had to get out of this room, out of this house. She wanted Marietta to take her outside in the fresh air for a while. She managed to finally get it open and push herself out to the landing. She heard the click of a door closing behind her and realized that it came from the sitting room. She heard footsteps coming up behind her and immediately tensed, knowing it was Cal.

"Mrs. Hockley…Olivia," McBride said quietly.

Surprised at the unexpected voice, she gasped and turned to him. "McBride?"

"I didn’t mean to startle you," he said, coming around to her. "I was putting away Mr. Hockley’s personal effects and setting out the newspaper for him to read later."

"Oh," she answered, her heart beating a little faster than it should. "I was looking for Marietta to help me get downstairs."

He smiled at her then. "I’ll help you. It would be my pleasure."

She cleared her throat nervously as he approached her. "You don’t really have to do this."

He stopped and gave her a small grin. "I don’t mind. As I said, it’s my pleasure."

Olivia waited until he had pushed her to the top of the staircase. When she looked down the long, winding steps, her head began to swim a little and her stomach twisted into knots. McBride must have sensed her discomfort, for he came around and bent down in front of her.

"Olivia, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m right here and I won’t let anything happen to you," he said reassuringly. "I’ll be holding you every inch of the way down…I promise I won’t let go."

Her breathing was hard as she looked around at him, but then, to her wonder, she felt a quiet calm come over her when she looked at him. She knew he meant it. He would do just as he said he would. She smiled at him as her fears were slowly put to rest.

"McBride--" she started.

"Patrick," he amended. "My name is Patrick."

She let out a breathy smile as she repeated his name. "Patrick," she said. "I just wanted to thank you for--"

He held up his hand and shook his head. "No, you don’t have to say anything. I think it’s for the best that it remain unsaid. Besides, I already know, and…you’re welcome."

"But I have to tell you--"

"No, you really don’t," he interrupted her again. "You’ve been through a very harrowing time, and you’ve had a lot going on. I only did what I did because I care about you, and I think that’s all we should say about it. Anything else would be tempting fate, I think."

She smiled at his logic and was grateful that she didn’t have to say what she felt but was still understood. She finally nodded her head and agreed with his assessment of the situation.

"I’m going to lift you. Then I’m going to carry you downstairs, and then I’ll come back up for the chair," he said, standing.

"All right," she answered. He slowly lifted her from the chair, his strong arms holding her tightly against his chest. He took each step one at a time, talking to her as he descended each step. She held onto him, nearly burying her face in his neck until they reached the bottom. When they finally made it, he set her down on a nearby bench, ran up the stairs, and brought her chair back down. Lifting her, he set her back down in it and stood back.

"There now." He grinned at her. "You did it, and you were very brave, I might add."

Laughing with relief, she adjusted herself in the seat. "I couldn’t have done it without you," she told him.

His eyes caught hers for a moment, and he shook his head. "Olivia." He said her name as if it were a song. "You can do anything you want to do. You’re a very special woman. Anyone can see that."

She didn’t know what to say. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. She stared at him, trying to understand the mixture of emotions he had stirred within her.

"I’ll find Marietta now. Enjoy your walk." He winked, bowed slightly to her, and then made his way across the hall. She watched him until he disappeared through the door and she could no longer see him.

Chapter Twenty-Six
Stories