Loving Liza Jane (18 page)

“But—how will I get to school?”

“As I said, you won’t be going anywhere tomorrow. Until we can fix the bridge, I’ll drive you across.”

“No.” The word escaped before she had time to consider the alternative.

One of Ben’s dark eyebrows shot up. “No?”

“I won’t impose on you any more than I already have. You’re busy enough with your own troubles. You’ve said so yourself.”

He nodded. “Do you have another plan?” He leaned forward, his big arms taking up the better share of the tabletop. “Surely you’ve thought ahead to proper transportation. What did you have in mind, particularly when colder weather sets in?”

“I had thought to buy a horse.”

“Fine. I’ll drive you until you find yourself a decent animal to ride.” He seemed adamant.

“I could ask Sam Livingston if he has anything to offer,” she said.

“Sam’s low on inventory right now. It should improve by springtime,” Ben replied.

“Oh.” Liza tried not to show her disappointment.

“He might work out a rental system with you,” Ben added, “but he doesn’t have much for sale.”

“Papa, we have a horse Miss Merriwether can use.” Lili’s cheery voice cut into Liza’s sagging mood.

“Maggie is lame right now.”

“What about Charlie and Lucy?” she asked.

“Charley and Lucy are draft horses, not suitable for riding, Lili. Besides, they’re towing horses.”

“I ride ’em,” she said proudly.

“Only when I lead with the rein.”

“What about Tanner?” Lili asked, refusing to give in.

“Tanner is a rambunctious stallion. He needs a firm hand.”

“I have a firm hand with a horse,” Liza intercepted. She’d grown up riding at Uncle Gideon’s sister’s coastal ranch.

Ben shook his head. “You don’t know Tanner. He’s a real charger. Full of vim and vinegar.”

Liza bit back an argument that begged to come forth. Now was not the time, she told herself. Besides, there were more pressing issues at hand. Still, the desire to prove herself to the man seemed almost more than she could bear. His natural assumption that she was incapable was like a burr in her side.

“Well, the fact remains I don’t want to put you out,” she said in response, taking a sip of cider to help gather her wits.

“You won’t be putting me out, Liza.” He’d done it again, used her given name. Of course, he had no idea what effect the simple familiarity had on her. “I plan to drive Lili, anyway. You may not be able to get to the school as early as you’d like, but as long as the bridge is down, you won’t have much choice.”

“But—how will you get across the river?” Liza asked.

The corners of his eyes crinkled when his face gave way to an impish grin. “Same way as I did tonight, I expect.”

Lili’s face immediately brightened. “That was an adventure, Papa. I won’t be half as scared the next time.”

Ben chuckled. “You were plenty worried tonight, sugar.”

“I know, but I’ll be braver next time. I won’t even close my eyes.”

Across the table, Molly blabbered on her own from her highchair, completely enthralled with the sound of her own voice. Liza tried to picture a strange new woman entering this sweet little house, taking over the household duties.

“You’re sure the bridge will be down?” she asked, anything to deter her wandering thoughts.

He nodded. “I’ll go out first thing in the morning and check it, but it’s almost certain to be unsafe even if it is still standing. Thom Bergen mentioned the possibility of erecting a decent bridge at this end. His wife’s been nagging him for a good long while now. It’s not a bad idea, particularly with your arrival on this side of the creek.”

“I don’t want to be a nuisance,” said Liza.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s something that’s needed our attention for some time.”

After clearing the table, Liza offered to wash the dishes. Lili took up a towel and volunteered her services with the drying. While they set about in the kitchen, Ben removed Molly, who by now had managed to fill her entire front with breadcrumbs and beans. She was a comical sight, and when Liza laughed, Molly gladly joined in, happy finally to be the center of attention.

When Ben finished wiping the baby down from head to toe, he excused himself and took her into the side room that the sisters shared, announcing that it was well past Molly’s bedtime.

“Lili, do you know where the broom is?” Liza asked as soon as he disappeared around the corner. The least she could do was work off her generous supper. From the look of things, the floor had not seen a broom for several weeks; crumbs, caked-on dirt, and various spills littered the long, flat timber boards. After that, she would see to scrubbing down the spattered countertops where evidence of long-ago food spills still lingered.

“It’s in the lean-to,” Lili said, walking to the small room just off the kitchen area. Coming back with straw broom in hand, she offered it to Liza, then tilted in close. “Papa hates to broom the floor,” she whispered. “That’s one of his worst chores.”

Liza winked and whispered in return, “I can’t imagine that there are many men who would claim to love it.” Lili giggled as if she and the teacher shared the best secret.

Once she’d finished sprucing the place up, swept the floor, dusted a couple of shelves, and scrubbed the table and kitchen workspaces until they shone, Liza put Lili to work on a world map jigsaw puzzle on the floor in front of the stove. Rain continued pelting the roof of the Broughton’s sturdy house, making Liza wonder how her own new roof was faring.

Although she knew she should trudge up the narrow path to the top of Shannon’s Peak where her little cabin sat nestled amongst overgrown bayberry plants and rosebushes in need of pruning, she was none too interested in getting drenched all over again. Besides, there was something comforting about sharing a roof with a kindly neighbor in the midst of a formidable storm. She told herself that his handsome features should have no bearing on the fact that she wished to extend her stay as long as possible.

With that thought in mind, she knelt over Lili’s sprawling figure to study the unfinished puzzle and was about to put a wooden corner piece in its rightful place when Mr. Broughton emerged. She felt his presence before she saw him, knew he watched with shrewd eyes. “I didn’t expect you to clean the place up, Liza.” His voice seemed unusually low.

“It was the least I could do,” she said, straightening to meet his gaze, the puzzle piece still in hand. She fondled the coarse wood with both hands, suddenly nervous under the man’s perusal. Thankfully, Lili paid them no mind as she continued examining the puzzle with care, deciding which piece to pick up next. She lay on her stomach, elbows propped, chin on both palms.

Ben Broughton’s eyes scanned the length of Liza, as if seeing her for the first time. Did he suddenly regret having lent her his wife’s dress? “Miranda was much taller than you—and more—well, filled out,” he concluded awkwardly.

His words brought an immediate blush to Liza’s cheeks, but she refused to let him see. Instead, she tipped her head downward to give herself time to recover. “I appreciate the dry clothes—even if they are a bit too big.”

Ben’s gaze lifted to the sounds of rain pelting on the roof. “The rain hasn’t let up,” he muttered.

“I should probably head for home. I’m afraid I’ve outstayed my welcome,” she said, her nerves a jangle.

He chuckled lightly. “You worry too much.”

Liza glanced down at Lili, still engrossed with the puzzle. “It’s a lovely puzzle. Lili tells me you made it for her. Where did you find such a wonderful map?”

His gaze dropped to the puzzle. “A peddler came through town. He had it on hand along with a myriad of other strange goods.”

There had to be at least a hundred different pieces to the puzzle, making Liza wonder at the work and effort he’d put into carving out each detailed section.

As if he’d read her mind, he added, “Making it helped to occupy my mind while the baby slept. Miranda had passed on not long before, and there was no time for self-pity.”

“It must have been a very difficult time for you when—she died.” She kept her voice low.

His eyes flashed with untold emotion. “She died only moments after delivering Molly—thriving one minute and hemorrhaging the next. That’s what took her. There wasn’t anything the doctor could do.”

Liza’s own eyes betrayed her when they filled with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Both of their gazes went to the child, so enthralled with the puzzle that she hadn’t heard a word of the adult conversation.

They stood in silence, listening to the thunderous storm, watching the rain drizzle down the windowpane in crooked pathways.

When she could stand it no longer, Liza asked, “Do you sometimes find yourself questioning God?”

He grinned down at her. “It’s good to question, I think. I shall be honest and say that, like any other normal human being, I’ve questioned His purposes, yes, but I’ve discovered it does me no good to linger there. Only when I truly thanked God in my dire circumstances did I begin to find peace in the midst of them. I don’t believe we really experience God’s richness until we’ve suffered some losses.”

He walked to the window to peer out more closely at the raging storm. Without forethought, she followed. When she stepped up next to him, she couldn’t help but notice he smelled of soap and baby powder, and the simple finding melted her from the inside out.

“I admire your faith, you know. It’s wonderful that you can look at life so positively. Many in your shoes would shake their finger at God in anger,” Liza said, her voice quivering.

He turned away from the window, his gaze shifting to Lili. “I have a friend named Rocky Callahan who is doing that very thing right now. He lost his wife three years ago to smallpox, and more recently, his only son to a raging fever.”

“But that’s so sad.”

Ben’s pensive look told her he agreed. “I’ve been praying that God would soften Rocky’s hardened heart.”

For reasons Liza couldn’t understand, she felt compelled to rest her hand on Ben’s forearm. His muscles bunched beneath her touch. “I will pray for him, as well,” she promised.

“Thank you,” he said, his deep, mellow voice massaging her senses, his eyes trailing a path to her hand and then her face until she felt his gaze penetrate clear to her heart.

Without warning, he raised his hand to remove a loose strand of hair from her face. “I’ve wanted to do that for some time, you know,” he said. The touch of his fingers, as they barely brushed past her cheek, sent an upward chill that began at her toes and moved straight to the top of her head, vibrating her very core. She might have moved if it weren’t for the fact that his midnight eyes held her captive.

“You have?”

He nodded, then began rolling the loose strand between his fingers, seeming to study it. “I think God has sent you to Little Hickman Creek for a reason, Eliza Jane.”

The endearing manner in which her name rolled off his tongue made her shiver. Moreover, it was nearly her undoing when his mouth curved into a warm smile.

“Really?” she asked, her voice unsteady with the single word.

Another nod of the head was all she got by way of response, and she might have pressed him for more were it not for the sudden banging on the Broughton’s door.

Ben reached the door in two long strides, then flung it wide. There on the other side stood Jonathan Atkins, drenched as a drowned cat, and looking just as surprised to see Liza in Ben’s house as she was to see him.

So you’re safe then,” Jon said, eyes on Liza as he stood in the pouring rain.

“Of course she’s safe. What are you doing here?” Ben asked as he pulled his friend inside and quickly closed the door. Water fell from Jon’s clothing to form little pools that refused to soak into the oil-treated wood floor.

“Hello, Mr. Atkins,” Lili said, looking up when she heard the commotion.

“Hello there, Lili. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? What do you think of this storm?”

“I think it’s fun,” she replied happily.

Jon laughed then bent down and tousled Lili’s blond head before he looked at Ben and Liza. “Mrs. Winthrop sent me to tell Liza there’d be no school tomorrow.”

“I figured as much,” Ben said. “How’s the creek faring? I’m surprised you made it across.”

“The creek’s swelling fast. The bridge won’t last much longer.”

“You had best stay here for the night,” Ben suggested.

Jon smiled. “I was hoping you’d invite me.” Then to Liza, “I stopped at your cabin to pass along the message and was alarmed to find your place dark.” Throwing Ben a hasty glance, he added, “I might have known Ben here would take good care of you.”

Ben shifted his weight, eager to right the awkward situation. Instinctively he wondered if Jon had seen him through the rain-spattered windowpane when he’d touched Liza’s hair. If so, the man would never let him live it down.

“I had to pick up Molly at Emma’s place, and so I stopped at the school to bring Lili and Liz—Miss Merriwether—home as well. The storm was raging by the time school let out.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Jon said with an even tone, his eyes flickering with suspicion.

“It wasn’t safe to be walking in those conditions,” Ben added.

“Of course it wasn’t.” He clasped his long fingers together in front of him and rocked back on his heels.

“I knew Lili would be frightened,” Ben maintained, searching for the right words.

“I wasn’t scared, Papa,” she chimed in, “—not until you nearly drowned us.”

At that, Jon’s eyebrows shot up. “Drowned?”

“We were in no real danger,” Ben assured.

Jon heaved an imaginary sigh. “Ah, well, that’s good. It would be difficult to explain yourself to the school board if you drowned the teacher after the first day of school.”

Ben forced a smile. “It was nothing like that.” He failed to see the humor that Jon apparently saw. “The horses were—unsure, that’s all. But as you can see, we made it safely across in one piece.”

“Yes. I can see that, and it’s good that you brought Liza here—where you could keep an eye on her,” Jon answered, eyes twinkling.