4

Though her daddy tolerated the Sunday visitor, Olivia’s momma was not so agreeable. Many heated arguments occurred that summer in the Buchanan household as Sarah saw her daughter’s love growing for the young Jake even as her husband’s admiration grew for him. In her desperation, Sarah decided to take Olivia away in a trip. A graduation gift. A chance to see the Big City. They would stay the summer in St. Louis with Sarah’s cousin who had assured her there were many young men who would love to call on the fair Olivia.


So the first Sunday in June, Jake and Olivia said good-bye. With his heart breaking, Jake did the unthinkable. Standing next to Olivia on the front steps, smelling the lilac perfume she always wore, Jake breathed deep, inhaling her scent, determined to remember it always, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you Olivia. Please come back to me.” Olivia wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded yes. She would come back.


Jake worked hard all summer. Long days in the Oklahoma heat. Humid days that all that was required to break a sweat is a deep breath. He never received a letter from Olivia. She wrote him faithfully. But Sarah intercepted each letter.

Every penny earned that summer went into the bank. He and his Grandpa were used to living simply, bare necessities. Bread, a little meat and vegetables from Grandpa’s garden were all they needed. Neither man had ever drank, so there was never money spent on liquor, nor on tobacco. Jake saved every penny.


Then summer was over. Livie had not written. He had not seen her in three months. Was he still loved? Soon came the first Sunday in September. In a melancholy mood, Jake decided to take a walk. Colt was home for the army for a week. He would soon be sent to a help keep the peace in some foreign, forgotten country. Jake stopped by Colt’s house and asked him if he’d like to walk, too. Down the road they went, remembering old times, games of kick-the-can, football highlights for high school then they turned the corner and saw the finery gathered at First Church. The Annual Pie Auction.

The women were setting out the chicken for lunch. Children were playing chase in the yard. Out of the back door came the ladies bearing their pies. Out came Olivia. In her white cotton dress, flowing in the breeze, she looked like an angel. Her dark hair fell in waves down her back. The green ribbon holding her dresses made her eyes sparkle. But she wasn’t smiling. She was looking around. Looking for someone.

She was looking for Jake. And he knew it. “Later, Colt,” Jake mumbled. And once again began walking over the railroad tracks. Colt knew his friend was walking to a new life. So was he. Colt went back home and packed his duffle bag for his trip back to Fort Collins. Life’s always changing, Colt mumbled to himself.


Never again will they separate us, Jake thought. I’ve waited and she has come back. As he walked across the church lawn, all talking ceased as they watched the determined young man stride towards Olivia. His work had hardened his muscles and aged him from childhood to manhood. Olivia saw him coming and started walking towards him. And she began to smile.




They met under the First Church sign. Jake fell to his knee, took her gloved hand in his.




“Olivia, you came back. I’ve waited for you,” and he paused. . .”I love you. Let me be your husband.”



In that moment, on a warm September afternoon, their stories became one. One month later, despite her mother’s wails and objections, Jake became Olivia’s husband. Matthew was there too and, although he wanted to protest, he saw in his daughter his own determination and knew that there was no use in arguing with her. She was going to marry Jake. At least he was employed. He had money, Matthew knew he had been saving his salary. And he would do his best to make sure Jake was always employed so that his daughter would be well taken care of.

3

To the amazement of the boys watching him, Jake walked bravely across the railroad tracks, across the park and right onto the front lawn of First Church. He walked right to Miss Olivia Buchanan. “Hello, Miss Buchanan. I’m Jake,” he said matter of factly, “I can’t buy your pie, but I would sure like to sit with you and talk awhile.”



And Miss Olivia Buchanan never looked at another boy. The prized razzelberry pie was sold to a hopeful suitor who sat with his mother to eat the pie and ice cream. Olivia and Jake sat under the big oak tree on the east side of the church and became fast friends.


Their romance had begun. Each morning, for the next year, Jake walked Olivia to her first morning class. After about three months, he asked if he might hold her hand. Gladly, she put her hand in his. “I wondered if you’d ever ask!” she smiled.


That was Jake’s senior in high school. At graduation, Mr. Buchanan offered Jake a job working in his oil fields. His motives were not exactly pure. Mr. Buchanan felt that if he could keep Jake busy enough and dirty enough, his only daughter would see Jake for the boy he was - a roughneck. Unfit to marry his prize daughter. Just a hired hand.

Matthew Buchanan was not a mean man. Just focused. He had known from a young age that there was money to be made in buying and selling land. He had bought his first farm at the age of 17. Foreclosed on by his banker daddy, Matthew had negotiated a fair price, in his eyes, for the 5 acres just south of town. Matthew dug a well on the property on the weekends, when school work wasn’t pressing. He cleared the brush away from the neglected farm house, readied the small garden and six months later, sold it for a profit. Not a large profit. But enough to pay his daddy’s bank and purchase another piece of land.

Matthew had pursued his wife with the same determination. He studied the girls at church socials and barn dances until he found one he felt would be suitable for the wealth he intended to accumulate. He settled on Sarah Jane Wilkins. Her family owned the bank in the neighboring community. As well as several businesses including a drugstore and mercantile. Then, in a courtship that resembled a business deal, Matthew outlined his plans for their future , told of the money he’d already banked and proposed a merger of the Buchanan-Wilkins clan. She agreed, or at least her daddy did, and 2 months later they were wed at First Church. Sarah was only 18 when she wed the 21 year old Matthew Buchanan. But she felt he was handsome and, though somewhat arrogant, she could learn to love him. Or at least deeply like him.

Sixteen months later, Sarah gave birth to Olivia Jane Buchanan. Though Sarah never truly loved her husband, she adored her daughter. There were no more children. Sarah had her daughter. She no longer needed her husband’s company or affection. And both Sarah and Matthew agreed to a new business arrangement. A clean house, good meals, beautiful daughter and no gossip in exchange for the finances to do as she wished.

It was Sarah who first approached Matthew with the idea to keep Jake busy and away from Olivia. Her daughter would go to the University next year, she imagined, and Jake would no longer be a problem. They just needed to keep them apart for the next 12 months.

But Jake was a hard worker. In many ways he was as focused and determined as Matthew. He learned faster than any roughneck the Buchanan’s employed. He worked longer days, took fewer vacations and was never sick. He saved his money, too. Matthew liked that. Jake did not waste anything – time or money. Soon, Matthew began to like the boy. He gave him more responsibility and allowed him to make decisions on the job site.

Sunday was a rest day. Work six days, rest one, his Grandpa had told him. He never went to First Church with the Buchanan’s although Olivia begged him. “I have no use for church. They have never had a use for me,” Jake would tell her. He wasn’t bitter, just factual. But each Sunday afternoon, after he had readied his work clothes for the next week, Jake would find his way to the Buchanan family porch. There he sat on the steps of the sweeping veranda and watched Olivia. Watched her knit. Watched her do needlework. Watched her read sometimes. He just wanted to be near her. To hear her laugh and to always see her smile.


And they would talk about their world. “Livie,” he would call her, “what makes life good? Fancy clothes? Rich food.”


“Being loved, Jake Williams” she’d state with defiance, “a person can face anything in life with absolutely nothing if they know they are loved.”

And this puzzled Jake. His grandpa was all he had ever had for family. He knew Grandpa loved him. And he knew what it was like to have nothing. To be from the wrong side of the railroad tracks. But was his life good?


Jake decided that if Livie loved him, life was good. And he smiled back at her.

2

THEIR BEGINNING

Olivia’s family, on the other hand, was extensive. She once boasted to Jake she could name 16 cousins living within 5 miles of their little farm. When she saw the hurt in Jake’s eyes as he realized he had no one, she never again mentioned her large family. But she didn’t have to – the Buchanan’s were everywhere! Her Uncle Donnie was the Mayor. Her Aunt Bessie ran the country market where everything from milk to gossip was traded. Brother Bob was the postman and Grandpa Luke was the banker. Jake often thought he couldn’t spit in the wind without it hitting a relative.

The Buchanan’s were not only prominent in number throughout the county, they were also very religious and their presence was clearly felt at First Church every Sunday morning. The Pastor wasn’t a relative but the deacon’s were, as well as the organ player and the Sunday School teacher. Each church gathering was like a family reunion! That’s how Olivia and Jake met – at the annual First Church Pie Auction.

It happened each year, the first Sunday in September. For the purpose of raising funds to help the starving children in Africa, the best cooks in the county brought their baked goods to be sold to the highest bidder. Following Sunday services, a festive picnic was spread on the lawn of the church. There was fried chicken, potato salads of every sort, corn on the cob, fried okra, fresh cut tomatoes. Even the town drunk came to church on Pie Auction Sunday just to get a good meal. After everyone ate, the prized pies were sold to the highest bidder. Children watched with wide eyes and smacking lips as apple pies, lemon pies, chocolate pies with mile-high meringues and blueberry pies were passed among the crowd to the lucky winner. It really didn’t matter who bought them, everyone was going to get a taste. That was the beauty of the Pie Auction – no losers.

Olivia had arrived with her razzelberry pie – a mixture of all the summer’s freshest berries. And to add to the mix, she had brought home-made ice cream. What good is a berry pie, she thought, without fresh ice cream on the side? All the young men were waiting to see when her pie would go on the auction block. Surely, she would cut the pie and share a blanket with the buyer of her beautiful creation. The pie was rated second place compared with the prize of an afternoon spent with the lovely Olivia Buchanan.

Across the railroad tracks, watching the great Pie Auction was Jake, his brother Tom and best friend Colt. Their families didn’t go to church. In fact, no one on the west side of the railroad tracks could ever remember being invited to First Church. Olivia had caught Jake’s eye that first week of school. She was a year younger than him. He liked seeing her walking to school, her raven hair shining in the sun. Smiling, she was always smiling at her friends. Then, the Friday before the pie auction, Olivia noticed him watching her from behind the big oak tree and the most amazing thing happened. She shared her smile with him. And Jake’s heart grew three sizes. She had smiled at him!

But now it was Sunday and from the other side of the train tracks, Olivia’s Pie Auction seemed a world away. The most beautiful girl in school would soon be eating with some young man from the east side. His enlarged heart ached with disappointment. He’s blue eyes were clouded grey with the prospect of someone else sharing her company.

“Go on, Jake,” murmured Tommy, “I dare you. Go over there to their nice pie auction and say hi. If you like her so much, saying hello’s not so big a thing.” Stupid little brother, Jake thought.

“No,” whispered Jake, “There’s some places a fellow just doesn’t belong.”

“My grandma says we belong anywhere we want, same as other folk. Says God doesn’t care which side of the railroad tracks you live on. If that’s true, He would want you to go their Pie Auction. You belong there as much as the next fellow.” Colt always had a direct approach to everything. He would talk to God anywhere and everywhere. He would ask a teacher why he needed to sit down when standing wasn’t in anybody’s way. Colt could always boil things down to the simplest point. And that’s what Jake needed.

“I don’t know if God cares or not. He’s not ever said anything to me. But I know I’m going over there.” And off Jake went.

Jess's Story

Every story must have a beginning, middle and an end. Like most people, Jess’s story began the day she was born. A pink, screaming ball of flesh, Jess entered the world with no grand announcements other than her father’s robus cry, “it’s a girl, Livie!”

But her momma’s story ended that day. Livie never heard the doctor tell her she was the momma of a healthy seven pound baby girl.

Jess was raised by her daddy, Jake. She was his mirror image clothed in a gingham dress. Blonde hair and clear blues eyes that pierced into your soul. Jess was his only child. His only family. A few months before Jess was born, Jake had buried his Grandpa, the only family member he had ever known. The only person he’d ever loved until he met Olivia.