Page 51 of Olive Becket Plays the Rake (The Seattle Suffrage Society)

Clem turned to her, her small frame stiff with indignation.

But now that Olive had worked past her worst worries, she was finally able to see that underneath the scowl, Clem looked utterly spent.

Her spine was still straight, but her eyes were ringed with fatigue.

She’d given so much. Too much. Compassion welled in Olive’s chest. Clem had been holding the whole Society on her shoulders for months, maybe longer.

Of course she’d offer them a home. Of course she’d insist they weren’t a burden.

But what if she wasn’t saying how much the weight cost her?

She took a breath, let her clarity settle. Then she turned to Emil, her voice steady.

“First, you will apologize to Clem. No matter how upset you are, she doesn’t deserve to be spoken to like that. She offered me a solution out of kindness—not out of obligation. I am grateful for her offer.”

Emil looked away, jaw tight. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Then she turned to Clem, who was watching her now with a guilty expression. “And you’ll apologize to Emil. He has gone out of his way for me. Again and again. Yes, he’s made mistakes. So have I. So have you. But who I trust is my decision. You don’t need to fight my battles for me. Not anymore.”

Clem hesitated, then dipped her head. “I’m sorry.”

Olive nodded once, then faced Emil again. “All right. What’s your plan?”

He shifted his weight awkwardly, glancing around at the others still lingering in the room. “In front of everyone?”

“No,” Clem said immediately, moving toward the door. She reached out and grabbed onto a stunned-looking Winnie standing in the entrance of the kitchenette. “We’ll give you privacy. Robbie, want to come with us?”

“Can we get Cracker Jack?” Robbie asked, still half-curled on the bed beside Anna.

“Of course. Come on, sweetheart.” She paused at the door, glancing back with a tired but sincere expression. “I’m sorry, Olive. Truly. We’ll be back in a while.”

She nodded. Once the door clicked shut, she gestured to the kitchenette. There, at least, Emil wouldn’t worry that her mother was listening. He followed without a word, filling up nearly half the narrow space with his broad shoulders. She leaned against the opposite counter and looked up at him.

“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“I don’t want you to move into Longfellow House,” he blurted out, his words edged with frustration.

He hesitated, throat working, but she didn’t rush him.

He had always waited patiently for her to find the right words.

This time, she would return the gift. Besides, she had a feeling where he was headed.

She dared not say it aloud, dared not influence his decision one way or the other.

He already knew how she felt, knew what she wanted. The rest was up to him.

“I made up with my father,” he said finally.

She blinked, caught off guard. “You did?”

“Yes. Turns out I’m a selfish bastard. Thank you for ever-so-sweetly pointing that out to me.

” He cut her a wry look, and she let out a hysterical giggle.

“But it was exactly what I needed to hear. I woke up, Olive. I’m no longer afraid of the future.

No, that isn’t exactly true. I’m afraid of a future that doesn’t have you in it.

That doesn’t have my family in it. And I’ll do anything to make sure I never have to be without.

While my mother was cleaning Robbie up, I spoke with my father.

His business is in trouble, and I’m going to help him.

Which is good, considering I turned down Harvey Gunn’s favor—”

She straightened. “You did what?”

He winced. “Oh. Right. There’s a lot I haven’t been able to tell you. I went to Gunn yesterday and asked him for a different favor. But I was too late. Your landlord had already made her move.”

“You traded in your favor…for me? Even before you knew if I would forgive you?”

“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” he said. “In fact, it was the first decision I’d made in a long time that made sense. You come first, Olive. Always.”

She raised a hand to her trembling lips.

“I’m going to work with my father. I’m going to ensure our families are safe and cared for.

And that begins by moving all of you into the floating house.

That’s the second thing I talked to my father about.

We all agree it’s the best choice. My mother and sister are already there, airing out the upstairs rooms, preparing things. ”

Her jaw fell slightly open as her heart swelled. “They all…they all want us there?”

“Everyone wants you there,” he said, stepping a little closer, his expression intensifying. “Your mother, Robbie, you. We want you. I know you’d thrive at Longfellow House. Of course you would. Clem is a good woman. Despite what I said earlier, I admire her. I know you would be supported there.”

He paused, dragging a hand through his hair.

“But the floating house is quieter. Your mother needs peace. Robbie needs freedom, a place to run without worrying about disturbing elderly women or knocking over teacups. And I…” He looked at her helplessly.

“I’m selfish, Olive. Goddammit, I am. I don’t want you over there. I want you with me.”

A slow, tremulous smile stole across her cheeks. “Wanting someone in your life isn’t selfish, darling. I think it’s rather sweet.” She paused, remembering Clem’s words despite how much she wished they weren’t true. “But Clem raised a fair point. If I—”

“Marry me,” he interrupted.

Her breath hitched.

“Marry me tomorrow. I don’t want to wait any longer,” he said.

“One night away from you is all I can stand. After that, I need to wake up beside you. I need your sweet voice filling my home, your brother’s laughter in the hallway.

I need your mother at my table. I need you.

And I think—I hope—you still need me. Still want me.

” He stepped close enough for her to feel his heat, to see the hope flickering in his deep blue eyes. “So will you marry me?

“Tomorrow?” she repeated slowly.

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

“But how would we even…?”

“I’ve already thought it through.” He reached for her hand, wrapping his calloused fingers around hers.

“We’ll move you into the house tonight. When you’re rested, we’ll go to the courthouse and get the license.

Then I’ll fetch Judge Wilson—he owes me a favor.

We’ll gather your mother and brother, and when we’re all together… we’ll get married.”

Joy rose through her chest, bright and sudden, as if the world had broken into song.

This wasn’t desperation. This wasn’t an escape.

He had chosen this. He had chosen her. Meeting his fervent gaze was the easiest thing she’d ever done.

And as she did so, she realized courage wasn’t always about taking action.

Sometimes, it was about accepting the good into her life.

Knowing she deserved it. That she’d always deserved it.

“Then I say yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Thank Christ.” He let out a shaky laugh and swept her into his arms, holding her tight. She wrapped herself around him, tucking her nose into the curve of his neck, inhaling his virile scent, feeling the pounding of his heart against her chest.

The front door flew open with another loud bang.

“Robbie,” Olive groaned, pulling from Emil’s embrace and peering around the kitchenette doorway. “Stop slamming the—”

“You’re missing everything!” he interrupted breathlessly. “Don’t you want to see Mrs. Drake getting torn to shreds?”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? By whom?”

“I don’t know. Some man is pointing at all the gross stuff on the outside of the building and yelling. The dragon is crying. It’s great!”

“Aha.” Emil stepped up beside her, arms crossed, clearly pleased. “Looks like the favor came through.”

“What did you do?”

“I asked Harvey Gunn to send someone down from the inspector’s office,” he said with an obscene amount of satisfaction.

“Your landlords have ignored every regulation under the sun. It’s time they paid for it.

And judging by Robbie’s description, they’re about to be hit with one very hefty fine.

Possibly one that puts them out of business. ”

“You devilish man,” she breathed. “How I adore you.”

The door burst open a second time, this time revealing Winnie and Clem, slightly out of breath. Winnie helped Clem through the doorway, one hand on her elbow, while Clem clutched something tightly in her fist with a look of barely-contained excitement.

“Good gracious, he’s quick,” Winnie panted.

Clem met her gaze and demanded, “Have you settled everything?”

“Yes, we did.” Olive stepped forward to fold her friend into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Clem. Your offer means more than I can say. You’re the kind of friend every woman should be lucky enough to have.

But…we’re going to the Anderson floating home.

” She glanced at Emil, offering a sheepish smile.

“He’ll sleep somewhere else tonight. And tomorrow…

” She turned back to Clem. “We’re getting married. ”

“And we’d be honored,” Emil added, “if you two would be our witnesses.”

Olive’s heart swelled again. How she adored this man.

Clem’s face lit up, and she pulled Olive into another hug. “I’m very happy for you,” she whispered. “You deserve every ounce of joy this world can offer.”

“She does,” Emil said gruffly.

“My turn,” Winnie announced, wrapping her arms around them both.

“Let us breathe,” Clem huffed a moment later. Then, straightening, she turned serious. “Besides, now we can tell her.”

“Tell me what?”

Clem held up the crumpled paper she’d been clutching. “While we were watching your landlord get raked over the coals, a telegram arrived from Aunt Della. It’s the count.”

Olive gasped. The Senate vote count. She’d been so caught up in everything—her mother’s recovery, Robbie’s homecoming, her decision to move, her love for Emil—she’d completely forgotten why Clem and Winnie had come in the first place.

“But…” she faltered, “Rhoda isn’t here.”

Winnie’s expression tightened. “No, and I can’t tell you how much it burns my insides. But you know what she’d say.” Olive nodded, already hearing Rhoda’s voice in her head. “She’d tell us to stop dawdling and open the damn telegram.”

“That she would,” Clem agreed, laughing.

“Why don’t the three of you take the kitchenette?” Emil murmured. “Robbie and I will sit with your mother.”

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

The three women crowded into the kitchenette, shoulder to shoulder. Clem carefully unfolded the telegram, and the air seemed to thicken with anticipation. Olive barely dared to breathe as Clem’s eyes scanned the words in silence. Then, slowly, she looked up. Her eyes shimmered with tears.

“It passed.”

Olive gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “We did it?”

Clem nodded, dazed. “The vote moves to the people next year.”

“We did it!” Winnie shrieked. “Oh my God, we did it!”

She threw her arms around them again, and the three women clung to each other, laughing, dancing in place, and squealing with joy. And then, without caring who heard her, Olive began to sing, “Everyone in favor, say aye, aye, aye! Raise your voice and lift it high, high, high!”

Clem and Winnie’s voices joined hers in harmony: “For the fight’s not over yet, no, don’t you forget. We’re marching for our future with the suffragette!”

Their laughter spilled into the room as they burst from the kitchenette, arms linked, still singing. Their joy echoed against the worn walls and swept across the uneven floors. It was a song of triumph. Of sisterhood. Of beginnings.

Olive took in the apartment, the place of so much sorrow and anxiety, and watched it transform. Felt it loosen its grip on her. It was no longer a place of unending stress. It was the place where she’d rediscovered hope.

And then she never had to see it again.

Her eyes found Emil at once. He was seated on the stool beside her mother, cradling her hand in his as he spoke to her in a low, comforting voice. Robbie leaned casually against his side, one arm draped across Emil’s shoulders like they’d been family for years.

Emil looked up, as if he’d felt her gaze, and smiled.

It was the kind of smile that made her breath catch.

Crooked, genuine, and full of love. A promise written across his face without a single word spoken.

And just like that, the future didn’t seem so frightening.

With the right people at her side, it could be something else entirely.

It could be wonderful.