Loving Eliza (2 page)

Eliza glanced at the man—John—and
decided to speak for him.  “No, ma’am.  I don’t know him.  Not really.  I mean, I just met him.” She set her travel bag down by her feet and rummaged through her purse.  “My name is Eliza.  I know a ma
n in Omaha.  His name is Preacher
Bill Peters, and he told me that he wrote to his cousin, Melissa Peters.”
She finally retrieved the preacher
’s letter.  She paused and looked at the woman.  “You don’t match Melissa Peters’ description.  Do I have the right house?”

“
Yes, she mentioned you. 
We sent a letter to Bill two days ago.  Melissa had a terrible fall down the steps, and—” She pressed the towel to her mouth and sobbed.

For a moment, Eliza stood in silence, mostly in shock but partly in sympathy.  Turning to John, she saw him nod.  He even waved toward a section of land further out of town.  She had to squint, but it quickly became clear that he had been pointing to the cemetery during their walk to this house.  She released a shaky breath.  This definitely wasn’t good...for either her or for Melissa.  But she gathered that between the two of them, she fared much better.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Eliza softly spoke.  “
Is there anything I can do for you?”

The woman shook her head.  “No thank you.” She wiped her eyes again.  “My name is
Addy Garrison
.  I was Melissa’s friend.  We were practically sisters.”

Eliza simply nodded.  Grief from men she was used to, but she had no idea how to comfort a woman.  She shifted from one foot to the other.  “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Take care.  John will be good to you.”

Her eyes widened as the woman gently shut the door.  Then she looked at John.  He didn’t have to speak for her to understand his remorse.  Sighing, she picked up her travel bag and dragged her feet back to the business district of the town, as small as it was.  She figured it consisted of a store for grocery items, a
barber shop, a workshop
to repair wagons and buggies or to care for horseshoes,
a church, an auditorium, the one room jail, and a hotel.  At least that was the main street.  Perhaps there were more businesses spread throughout.  A glance down a side street showed her the small post office and bank that were in the same building.  Another good look showed her a house with a doctor’
s name on it.

So there was more in this town than she originally thought.  But still, it was very different from Omaha.
  She didn’t know if she liked that or not.  Her options would be limited here.  She didn’t want to return to Omaha.  She could never make a fresh start there.  No one would take her seriously as an employee.  Her shoulders slumped.  This was why most women married as soon as they could.  Finding work seemed like a frightening prospect.

John reached out and took her elbow in his hand.

Why was he still following her?  Couldn’t he tell that she needed time to be alone and think?  But then, he knew the town and the people in it.  Maybe he could help her.  “Do you know where I can find a job?”

He shook his head and pointed behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder and groaned.  “No.  I’m not your mail-order bride.  I will not go into that church except to worship the Good Lord on Sundays.”

His countenance fell.

S
he couldn’t allow the jab of guilt
to
overtake her good judgment.  It was insane to want to marry a man just because he
looked hurt.  “You’ll thank me when your Daphne comes.” She could only pray that this woman would indeed come.  She didn’t know John, but he struck her as a good man, just as Addy had said.  “Do you know of anyone who’s hiring?”

To her surprise, his eyes lit up and he tapped his chest.

“How many times do I have t
o say no?  I’m not marrying you.
”

He quickly shook his head.

“Right.  Now you’re catching on.”

She proceeded down the dirt road, wondering why a group of men had
congregated outside the building across the road
to stare at them.  Was it so unusual for an unmarried woman t
o be seen with an unmarried man?
  Or maybe it was because she was a stranger?  Yes.  That was probably it.  They didn’t recognize her, so naturally, they were curious.

Next to her, John pointed to the church and shook his head.

“Is that all you can
do?  Nod, shake your head and point?” she asked.

She was starting to tire of this game, if that’s what he was doing.  He seemed sincere, but she sensed something odd about him.  Of course, it didn’t have be a bad kind of odd.  She’d met men who were odd but good-hearted souls.  They had been much easier to understand than this stranger who had insisted on attaching himself to her like a shadow.

The men across the street laughed.  Out of the corner of her eye, she realized they were laughing at John.  She wondered why.

John, however, didn’t seem to notice.  Instead, he pointed to her, formed the word ‘work’ on his lips and then tapped his chest again.

“You’re talking about a job?  Not marriage?  You need someone to work for you?” she asked.

He smiled and nodded with the enthusiasm of a little boy in a candy shop.

She stopped and turned to him.  “What kind of job?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, as if debating what to say.  Then he snapped his fingers and led her to the general store.

Now she was speechless.  What was he doing?  Surely, a man as...odd...as him didn’t own the general store, especially since store owners needed to actually talk to their customers.  John didn’t strike her as the social type at all.

A man who appeared to be the owner was
talking to a plump woman who
examined several bags of sugar.  He glanced up.  “Howdy, John.”

John smiled and waved.

The woman turned and gave a nod.  “Good afternoon.”

The owner turned hi
s attention to Eliza.  “I’m Frank
Garrison.  This is Molly Richie, and that is John Evans.”

Eliza wondered why the owner felt the need to tell her John’s name.  Maybe he was odd too.  She glanced out the window and saw that the group of men had made their way across the street and were listening to everything they were saying outside the store.  Had the door not been left open, they wouldn’t have received the pleasure of hearing anything.  Those men weren’t right either.  Maybe this entire town was odd.

Keenly aware of their audience, she said, “I’m Eliza.”

“Eliza what?” the woman asked.

Just Eliza.
  But she couldn’t say that.  Her gaze drifted to the sugar.  “Uh...Eliza Sweet.” She winced.  Oh, that was awful!

“Nice to meet you, Miss Sweet,” Frank said.

So now she was stuck with
that
for a last name.  Oh well.  Worse things had happened to her.

John motioned around the store.

“Go ahead and search around,” the owner replied.

As
Frank and Molly resumed their conversation about recipes to use sugar with, John led her to a broom in the corner of the store.  He picked up the broom and started sweeping the floor.  Then he pointed to her and the broom.

She blinked.  Oh.  He was telling her what her job would be if she worked for him.  “Cleaning.  You mean, I’d clean your house?”

He nodded and put the broom back.  Then he led her to a table full of fruits and vegetables and pretended to eat them.

“And cook.”

He
looked so excited that she understood
him that she actually chuckled.  Then he showed her soap and patted his shirt and pants.

“And do your wash.”

He nodded again before he
turned
his hands up.  His expression asked
her if she would agree to it.

She took a deep breath.  “I don’t know.  Where would I stay?”

“You’re not his mail-order bride?” Frank spoke up.

Not that it was any of his business, but she answered, “No.  I came to help Melissa Peters but found out that isn’t going to work out after all.”

“Yes.  Poor Miss Peters.  That was a horrible tragedy.  Well, you’ll be in good hands with John.  But John, where’s your bride?  Are you sure she’d be happy to know you hired a woman to take care of your place?”

John held up his torn letter and shook his head.

“She didn’t come?” the man kindly deducted.

John nodded and shoved the letter into his pocket.

“I’m sorry to hear that.  But it’s probably for the best.  Things work out for a reason.” He looked at Eliza.  “You plan to let Eliza stay in that small cabin off to the side of your house then?”

He nodded.

“I suppose that will work.  Eliza, John is a good and decent man.  He won’t take advantage of you.”

The snicker from outside the door
made her wonder, once again,
what was going on.

Frank’s mouth formed a tight line as he strode across the room and
stood in the doorway.  “
Get away from my store.”

“Oh come on, Garrison,” on
e of the three men
replied.  “What woman is going to want to work for a mute?  She won’t even marry him.”

Eliza blinked.  That was why John
didn’t speak.  That
also
explained his odd behavior.  Now she really felt bad for getting irritated with him.  How else was he supposed to communicate with her?

“Mind your own business and go somewhere else unless you have something to buy,” Frank ordered.

“We’re going.  We’re going.”

The men grumbled but left.

Frank returned, his
face
showing his displeasure.  “I’m sorry about that, John.” Before Eliza had a chance to loo
k at John, Frank approached her
.  “Eliza, I assure you that John is an honest, God fearing man.  He won’t steer you wrong, and he could use a woman’s help out there.  He spends so much time making furniture that he tends to neglect his place.”

“You make furniture?” she asked John.

“And fixes and repairs people’s homes.  He does a lot
of good
here.”

She believed Frank, and she’d had enough dealings with men to know that J
ohn wouldn’t take advantage of the
situation.  In fact, his type often got taken advantage of.  She sighed.  Well, she wanted a fresh start, and though this wasn’t how she planned it, she supposed that this was just as well.

“Alright,” she told John.  “But I’m not marrying you.  You still have to wait for that bride of yours.”

John seemed content with that so she
figured they wouldn’t have any problems.  But on the way out of the store, one look at the group of men made her aware that problems were going to be inevitable.  The question was, just what kind of problems.