Chapter 21: Competitive Annie and the Kind Goats
“OLIVIA, thank you so much. My maid sent that pigeon to help us, but the mansion it was going to in the capital already belongs to another noble. I’d given up hope, assuming even if they read the message, they wouldn’t bother to come save us.”
Olivia was talking to the countess, Lynette, who had finished reading the letter from Louise that Olivia had given her.
“It looked like the pigeon was attacked en route by a hawk or eagle,” said Olivia. “It fell, wounded, and my cat caught it. It’s safe and being cared for at my home though, so we’ll return it as soon as it has recovered.”
“Oh my. The poor pigeon, but I must say, it’s nearly a miracle for us. Don’t you think, Lady Mistral?” said Lynette’s daughter-in-law.
Lynette had for some time been firmly pressing a handkerchief to her eyes, bowing over and over to Olivia.
“And anyone could have saved that pigeon, but it was you, someone who knows Duchess Arche. It can only make me believe God had a hand in helping us,” said Lynette.
“Her Grace told me about your school days several times, which is why I went straight to her with the news,” Olivia said. “Her Grace also said she would care for your granddaughter, Mabel, until she was old enough to marry and take on her title as Countess Mistral.”
“Yes, she mentioned it in her letter. I really do appreciate it.”
After that, Olivia asked how long ago the count had become dependent on alcohol and how much he normally drank, making notes of it all. They also agreed the count would be taken to Louise’s mansion. The letter Louise sent Lynette said she would put the count in a medical facility in the capital.
“I think we should take our leave, soon,” said Olivia. “You must all be tired. Please take care of yourselves.”
“Thank you, Olivia. Neither my mother, my daughter, nor I will ever forget what you’ve done for us,” said the countess’s daughter-in-law.
“And the soup was wonderful!” chimed in the granddaughter. “It’s the best soup I’ve ever had.”
“Thank you. And please give my regards to Her Grace,” said Lynette. “I’ll write a letter to thank her.”
Olivia responded to their thanks with a smile, then she left the mansion with Arthur. They decided to transport the count in the carriage, restrained, since he’d lost his faculties. A guard remained in the carriage with him, and Olivia rode on Annie with Arthur.
Olivia was worried Annie would have a hard time carrying the two of them, but the emotions she felt from Annie were cheery. She was having fun, so Olivia decided not to say anything that didn’t need saying.
They mounted Annie and just as they were about to head off, the white cat came running up to them.
“Hello kitty,” said Olivia. “I’m glad everything turned out fine. Thank you for showing us the way.”
“Meow!” It looked at her and meowed loudly.
Arthur saw a grimace flicker across Olivia’s face. After they’d set off, he asked her, “What’d the cat say to you?”
“It said it wanted to break the count’s eye. It was screaming that the whole time, ever since the count leaped out of the pantry.”
“The cat must’ve been the target of some pretty bad violence. Either that, or it was really angry at seeing its family treated horribly. I once heard cats never forget a human who’s harmed them.”
“I think that’s the same for dogs, and deer, and wolves, and goats.”
“And people, probably.”
“Yeah. But, Arthur…”
“Yeah?”
“I think humans can take the pain they feel in their bodies and souls and use it as fuel to grow.”
“Yeah? I hope so.”
“Both you and I have scars on our souls, but I don’t want to live forever restricted by that pain.”
“My old scars don’t hurt me anymore. I still do remember them hurting, though.”
“Yeah. What we have is the memory of great pain.”
Olivia squeezed her arms tight around Arthur’s waist and laid her head on his back. He replied with a gentle pat on her arms.
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THE count was still deranged inside the carriage. Olivia couldn’t possibly give him any medicine, so he simply writhed in there for a while, bound. The group kept going, stopping for breaks and sleep, and eventually arrived at Marlowe.
They delivered Count Mistral to Louise’s mansion, and experts quickly came to take the old man away.
“Thank you so much, Olivia,” said Louise. “If it went public the count had gone crazy and confined his family in a jail cell, they may have had their title reduced in rank. Or taken away entirely, in the worst-case scenario. But anyway, we’ll have the count live somewhere nice and quiet until Lynette’s granddaughter is old enough to marry a respectable man.”
“I’m just glad I could help,” said Olivia. “Arthur told me what you did for Freddy’s Pharmacy. Thank you for such consideration.”
“Oh of course, it was nothing. I cannot even put into words everything Marguerite did for me. The least I can do is look after you like this.”
After they both finished thanking each other, Olivia went back to Soup Forest.
Lara rushed out of the restaurant the moment the carriage pulled up. Rob and Dale also came running out.
“Welcome back, you two!” called Lara. “I took care of the restaurant for you. I had to serve the same bean soup two days in a row, but it turned out fine since there weren’t any customers that came for both days!”
“Thank you, Lara, you’ve been such a big help,” said Olivia.
Waited! Waited for you! said Rob, leaping with joy.
Mates come home, said Dale, looking at them expressionlessly.
“All right, back to work tonight,” said Olivia.
“I’ll go let Freddy know we’re back,” said Arthur. “Annie, you take a good long rest. Lara, I’m going to borrow Greta.”
“Sure!”
Not tired! I go! argued Annie, glancing over at the barn where Lara’s horse, Greta, was. It seemed like Annie felt a bit of competition between her and Greta.
Arthur seemed to notice how Annie felt, but he didn’t change his mind. “Annie, you’re important to me,” he said. “I’d be in a real bind if you push yourself too hard and end up hurt. I’ll take you out tomorrow again, don’t worry.” Then, he whispered in her ear, “There’s no one more important to me than you, Annie.”
Annie suddenly behaved. She nickered and rubbed her long neck against Arthur.
“Thanks for understanding, Annie,” he said. “All right, be a good girl and stay here.”
“Arthur, you’re a bit of a ladies’ man when it comes to horses, aren’t you?” Olivia remarked.
“I was thinking the same thing!” said Lara. “I kind of felt uncomfortable just listening.”
“Oh, come on,” he said. “I’m just caring for my precious horse.”
Olivia and Lara exchanged a look and laughed as Arthur left. Olivia said, “What did I say?” and Lara replied with, “I know, right?”
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A few weeks later, a letter arrived from Count Mistral via Louise. Olivia timidly opened the letter, worried it would be filled with insults as she was the reason he’d been shut up in a facility, but, contrary to her expectations, she found a letter filled with deep regret.
“I was desperate to raise my son as a warrior like me, and that is what killed him. It is my fault he took his own life. I never imagined it would come to that. If I only could, I would return to when my son was a child and redo our entire lives.”
That was a general overview of the sort of things in the letter. Strength would be the pillar holding up his sense of self, as a famed warrior. But a son is a son. He is not his father.
Pain panged Olivia’s heart as she thought of a person who had lost all hope in life to the point they would end it all. He must not have had anywhere to flee to. He couldn’t run, leaving his wife, daughter, and mother behind. What must it have been like, living a life where every day was torture? Olivia couldn’t even bear to imagine it.
And at the same time, she tried to imagine the feelings of an old man who had only realized his mistakes when his son died. How must it have felt to continue living after that? It hurt just thinking about it.
With nowhere to vent her sorrow, Olivia went to the goat barn and let Pete and Pepe out into the yard.
Yum, grass!
Yum, yum!
She thought of the heir to the Mistral title, a man she’d never met, as she watched the goats chowing excitedly on grass.
“If only he’d held on just a little bit longer, perhaps a path forward would have opened up…” she murmured.
Pete and Pepe stopped eating and came over to her, gently butting their heads against her. Her sorrow must have slipped out to them.
Hurt?
You hurt?
“I’m all right. Thank you, you two. You’re always so kind.”
She patted their backs for a long time.