Page 31 of Olive Becket Plays the Rake (The Seattle Suffrage Society)

She wrestled with her resolve. On the one hand, she would have to admit she couldn’t manage on her own.

But on the other hand, it would be a relief to admit she couldn’t do it all by herself.

Why shouldn’t she accept some help from him?

It wasn’t quite the same thing as accepting money from a friend, and they weren’t exactly friends, anyway.

“Thank you,” she said a moment later.

He squeezed her waist in response. “Now. I’m dying to know more about how you wrote the most popular song of the year and managed to keep it a secret until laudanum loosened your lips.”

“Even from you,” she couldn’t resist teasing.

“Even me,” he allowed. “I had begun to suspect, but I never found any proof. That was very well done, Olive.”

“Oh. Yes.”

Her words tangled up as a curious warmth spread through her body.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened.

The first was at the musicale, and then at the library.

And now, a third time. She had thought it a fluke at first, that swooping feeling when he commended her.

How could such simple words feel as intimate as a touch?

Why should being admired kindle heat in her belly, a restless ache between her thighs?

No one had ever spoken to her like this before.

Most scarcely noticed her at all, and when they did, it was to overlook, to dismiss.

To be praised by him, the man who could have any woman’s notice if he wished… well. It was beyond delicious.

“You’re flushed, min k?raste,” he murmured. “Everything all right?”

“I…” She cleared her throat, but how did one admit to something so strange as becoming inflamed by mere words? It was impossible. “I am merely delighted to emerge victorious. Over you and any other man who wants to unveil me for their own purposes.”

The humor faded from his expression. “I won’t let Wingate near you.”

“But why does he want me at all? I don’t understand.”

“His claim is that he wants to show his support for the cause, but I think it’s a ruse.”

“He was talking to the anti-suffrage preacher. Why would he do that if he didn’t support his views, at least on some level?”

“Mack would have done the same if he’d been close enough. Anything to get a quote for the paper.” He hummed under his breath. “Have you ever heard their names in conjunction before?”

“Never.”

“Then it looks like I’ve got more digging to do.”

“I don’t want to cause a rift with your employer—”

“He’s the one who caused a rift, Olive, by being disingenuous about why he hired me. I’ve already started pulling at loose threads. The pieces are there, I just haven’t fit them together yet.”

“Will you tell me what you find?”

“I will,” he assured her, and a thrill of happiness spread through her at being included. “In the meantime, we should start thinking about how you’ll reveal yourself.”

She jolted upright and looked at him aghast. “I’m not going to reveal myself. Not ever.”

“We need to get ahead of this,” he insisted. “If Wingate is connected to the anti-suffragist movement, then he could be searching for ways to impugn the character of local suffragists. All it would take is a few choice details, and your reputation will be in tatters. But if we attack first—”

She laid a finger over his lips. “Emil, I know you mean well, but that’s your style.

Not mine.” Fire rose to his eyes, but she pressed forward.

He had to understand. “I published anonymously for a reason. I’m simply not comfortable putting myself forward that way.

I have too many responsibilities, too much to lose, and not nearly enough courage. ”

It was his turn to look at her like she’d lost her mind. It stung, but at least he knew where she stood. Knew her limitations.

“What do Winnie and Miss Lewis have to say about it?”

“I haven’t spoken to them about it yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“They’re busy—”

“Too busy to help their friend?”

“They are helping their friend,” she snapped. “Or at least, they’re trying.”

He went still. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Rhoda has gone missing.” She heaved a sigh.

“It’s been four days since we’ve seen or heard from her.

Winnie stopped by to tell me the next morning.

Now, she and Clem are busy searching for her.

I…I was going to help, but it took me longer to recover than expected, and then I had to make up the lost time—”

“That is concerning,” he interrupted her guilt-laden rambling. “But it doesn’t change the fact that they have two friends who need help right now, and only one is getting it.”

“Rhoda’s situation is now, and mine is…” she waved a hand in the air, grasping for the right words. “Well, it’s always. I can wait a bit longer. I really don’t mind.”

“And doesn’t that say it all?” he asked gruffly. “Anthem issues aside, you’ve needed help for a long time. And it riles me up that no one seems to realize it.”

“It’s not their fault.”

“Why?” His gaze sharpened, and his voice dropped low and demanding. “Why not, Olive?”

“Because they don’t know how bad everything is!” She pushed off his lap and paced the deck, her chest tight, her breath shallow.

“Winnie knows a little—she’s seen our awful apartment, and I told her once about the landlord.

But they don’t know about Robbie’s learning problems. They don’t know my mother’s illness has gotten worse every single day since we were evicted from our last place.

That’s why she won’t leave the apartment, you know.

She’s afraid they’ll lock the doors again.

They don’t know my father’s money is gone, or that I wake up every morning terrified that today is the day we lose another home, or that I’ll have to pawn another of my father’s treasured belongings just so my baby brother has something to eat—”

Tears flooded her eyes, and a ragged sob tore from her throat. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if she could force it all back down. But she couldn’t. The words were poison inside her, killing her slowly, and now they were spilling free, burning on their way out.

“What if I tell them all that, and they don’t care? Or what if they’re like my old friends?” she choked out. “What if they decide I’m too needy, too poor, too beneath them? What if they don’t want me anymore? I can’t go through that again. I can’t.”

Emil’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against his chest. She gripped his shirt, her body wracked with shudders. His hand swept soothingly over her back, anchoring her as she unraveled.

“It’s all right,” he murmured against her hair. “Cry. Cry all you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her breath hitched, her body sagging against his as the weight of the last few years pressed down on her.

And still, he held her. When the sobs finally slowed to hiccups, when the poison of unspoken fears had finally drained from her, leaving her hollow and raw, he eased her back and cupped her face in his warm, calloused palms.

“Listen to me very carefully, min k?raste. You have been put into situations you weren’t ready for.

Your father died and left the three of you alone in the world.

Your family has faced so many challenges, and every time, you rise to meet them.

Even though you’re unprepared and terrified.

Even when it feels—and often is—impossible.

Most people would crumble beneath the weight of all that responsibility.

But you never have. You might falter, you might fall, but you always get back up.

That’s a hell of a thing. That’s courage.

And it breaks my goddamn heart that you don’t see it. ”

Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked.

“I see now that I owe you an apology. I was only thinking about how I would handle Wingate. Because for me, standing up for myself and speaking out against injustice have always been options. A risk, at times, but never one so dire that my entire life could be upended. I didn’t think about what it could cost you.

” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “From now on, I’ll follow your lead.

I’ll still tell you what I think, of course, but ultimately, this is your life.

You make the calls. And I’ll support you however I can. How does that sound?”

“It sounds really nice.”

“Nice,” Emil repeated, chuckling. “You’re overwhelmed, aren’t you?” She nodded jerkily. “Of course you are. You’ve just had a cathartic release.” She nodded again, grateful he understood her without having to explain.

Nice didn’t cover the half of it, but words were lost to her.

She’d been carrying a heavy load for so long, plodding up a never-ending hill.

At long last, someone—Emil—wanted to take some of the weight.

Not take control, not pull her forward, but stand beside her, making her path forward feel possible for the first time in a very, very long time.

“Let’s go inside. I’m going to make you a cup of tea.

I’ll wash up, and then—” He lifted her chin with a finger and brushed a slow, deliberate kiss against her trembling lips.

When he pulled back, his gaze was full of promise.

“And then I’ll give you another kind of release.

One that pushes aside every worry, every thought, until the only thing you know is how good you feel. ”

He held out his hand, and without the tiniest ounce of hesitation, fear, or worry, she interlaced her fingers with his and followed him inside.