Loving Liza Jane (21 page)

Since I will be traveling to Maryland where my mother resides, please address any questions or concerns you may have to the Marriage Made in Heaven Agency.

I look forward to the day of our meeting.

Yours truly,

Miss Sarah Woodward

P.S. You sound like a very nice Christian man. And your daughters sound lovely, as well.

Ben sighed, refolded the letter, and placed it back inside the envelope.

What was he to do? The woman was coming. He momentarily felt relief that she would be delayed to care for her mother, but he realized that she would eventually make her way to Little Hickman Creek.

If Jon were here he would call him every kind of name for a fool. On the other hand, perhaps he’d rejoice anew that his competition for Liza had vanished.

***

It was the third week of September. True to his word, Mr. Brackett began bringing Eloise to school fifteen minutes early every day. Almost from the start, Liza saw a change in the students’ attitudes toward the little girl. It was as if the anonymous note had struck a chord in all their hearts, giving them an extra dose of compassion for a child who lacked a mother’s touch. To top matters off, she’d been arriving at school every morning clean as a pin.

Of course, it wasn’t long before Lili learned that Liza was braiding Eloise’s hair, and so one morning after coming into school, she asked if Liza might braid hers, as well.

“I would love to, Lili, but you must come a few minutes early every morning so that it doesn’t interfere with our class time.”

“I’ll tell Papa,” she’d announced.

The next day she came to school at the regular time, her hair in its usual crooked part and with the rather imperfect golden braid down the middle of her back. “Papa says we mustn’t umpose on you,” she said, her mouth droopy with disappointment, “that you already have yer hands full enough.”

“I see.” She had half a mind to tell Mr. Benjamin Broughton he could jump off a cliff. Of course, seeing him these days was a rarity, so telling him anything would be difficult. The man had avoided her like the plague ever since the major thunderstorm, always dropping Lili off a good distance from the door so he wouldn’t be forced to speak a greeting. If she were a good shot, she might have picked up a small rock and aimed it straight for his noggin, but then what kind of example would that be for the children?

She didn’t know what to make of Ben Broughton. Apparently, she’d misconstrued his actions when he’d brushed his hand across her cheek, even gazed at her with those intensely inky blue eyes. I think God has brought you to Little Hickman for a reason, he had said in a quiet voice just before Jon Atkins came knocking at the door.

What did it matter anyway? Ben had sent for a bride, so her worrying about what he thought of her made no difference. In fact, that doubtless explained his cold shoulder these past days.

Liza marveled at how easily the children had adapted to the classroom routine. Every day began with the Pledge of Allegiance followed by The Lord’s Prayer. Soon afterward came the grade-level morning recitations.

Since her classroom consisted of students between the ages of six and fifteen, it became necessary to adhere to a schedule so that she could meet at least once a day with each child. While the rest of the class worked at their seats on individual assignments, she listened to smaller groups recite their lessons, whether it be math problems, spelling words, or quoting something they had learned from a geography or history assignment. The ringing of her handbell would indicate when the next group should come forward to the recitation bench.

Liza trained her ear to listen for restlessness. When it seemed the students could sit still no longer she had them stand and do body stretches, take a drink from the water crock, and speak in low whispers. After a few minutes of this, most were ready to resume their lessons until it was time for the morning recess.

She had devised a schedule of jobs for the students, the older ones tending to the younger, assisting with difficult assignments, and watching out for them on the playground. Other tasks entailed cleaning the slate boards and pounding the erasers, straightening and organizing bookshelves, keeping the water crock filled with fresh water from the outside pump, dusting shelves daily, sweeping the floors during the lunch-hour break, and maintaining their own workspace. When colder weather set in, she would enlist the help of the bigger, stronger boys to fill the coal bin daily for fueling their potbelly stove.

Discipline problems had so far been kept to a minimum. She’d discovered early on that the Hogsworth twins were not nearly as difficult to handle if she kept them hard at work. Ever since the incident in which she’d discovered their guilt at having locked her in the outhouse, they’d toed the line, perhaps counting their blessings that she hadn’t seen fit to punish them, or, more importantly, inform their parents.

In fact, one afternoon, immediately following the recess break, she’d found a folded note sitting on her chair. Upon opening it, she discovered a hurriedly scrawled note that said simply, I think yore very perty and exter nice. And yu teche us good things. Sam Hogsworth.

Immediately warmed clear to her toes, she’d smiled at Sam,
noting the crimson blush that crossed his face. Taking great care, she refolded the torn piece of paper and stuck it in her dress pocket for safekeeping. It was her first note, and she intended to cherish it.

Gus Humphrey was another boy she’d heard tales about and had worried would give her trouble. Instead, she found him easily bored when not challenged to reach beyond the ordinary. She suspected his former teachers had difficulties with him because they didn’t recognize his early signs of boredom.

One day she discovered him examining the classroom’s ancient globe. She asked him if he might be interested in taking home the atlas and then reporting back to her five facts he’d learned about his favorite continent. His face lit up like a firecracker. “You really mean it?”

She nodded. “Of course I mean it.”

“You mean I could actually take home the big atlas, the one donated by the school board?”

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“But it was never allowed before. Neither Mr. Lofthouse or Mr. Abbott would hear of it. And I don’t think Mrs. Winthrop would approve, either.”

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, as you can see, I am none of those people, and since I trust you to take extra special care of the volume, I have no concerns about your borrowing it.”

“Can Lenora look at it, too, and my parents?”

He seemed enthralled with the idea of turning it into a family affair. She laughed with glee. “Of course! In fact, you can all work together on the assignment. How would that be?”

“Great! Ma and Pa will be happy. They never got much schoolin’ when they was young, but they still like ta learn,” he’d exclaimed, his expression a picture of enthusiasm she had stored away in her memory bank for evoking later.

The only students that truly troubled Liza were Rufus Baxter and Clement Bartel. Sour expressions were usually found on their faces, with Clement seeming to be the leader of the two and Rufus following his dour example.

Both fifteen, neither appeared interested in learning. Their favorite body positions in the classroom seemed to be with shoulders sagging, legs stretched out, and arms sprawled every which way across their desks. So far, Clement had handed in only half of his assignments, with Rufus showing him up just slightly. Much was required of the older students, and from what she’d observed, Clement was the one who struggled the most academically.

There was something else about Clement Bartel that worried Liza, and that was the way he watched her with keen, hungry eyes. Every time she passed his desk, his gaze traveled the length of her, a lazy smile curving his small mouth, his pimpled cheeks flushed with desire. How could she teach the boy if he refused to stop this game of intimidation? The way he’d been acting, she dared not lean over his desk to offer him assistance, and if anyone needed assistance in learning, it was Clement Bartel.

Of course, her superior was Mrs. Winthrop, but she felt no more comfortable in bringing the problem to her than she would handling a prickly porcupine. No, this was a problem for which she simply had to find her own solution.

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon and Liza had just sent the children out for their afternoon recess. Tired and sweaty, she mopped her damp brow and replaced a book in its rightful place on a high shelf near the window overlooking the playground.

Gazing out at the students, she observed a few engaged in a game of baseball, others sliding down the ancient, well-used slide, and still others perched in swings, awaiting an older student’s willing push. A smile of approval crossed her face. For the most part, they were learning to live as a sort of family, viewing each other with respect and consideration.

“Giving yourself a breather?” asked a deep, smooth voice.

She whirled around at the familiar sound and blushed at the sight of Ben Broughton standing in the doorway, his tall, imposing frame taking up a great deal of space.

Determined not to let on how pleased she was to see him, she turned back toward the window to regain a measure of composure. “I was watching the children at play and benefiting from the afternoon breezes. We’re certainly enjoying a fine Indian summer.” Satisfied that she had gathered her wits, she faced him once more. “Is there something I can do for you, some message you want me to give Lili?”

He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his head of thick, black hair, but it stubbornly fell back across his forehead in several directions, making her stomach knot with edginess. Simply put, the man was far too handsome for his own good.

He walked the rest of the way into the classroom. “Where does Lili sit?” he asked, still not stating his purpose in dropping by. For reasons she couldn’t explain, his English brogue seemed especially pronounced today.

She pointed to the front row. “Right there. Closest to my desk.”

“The one with the bunch of wilted flowers, I take it.” He gave her a slanted grin.

“That’s the one,” she said, noting the sorrowful looking bouquet of weeds Lili had picked that morning.

“Her mother always liked flowers. I assume Lili is no different.”

“All women love flowers,” she answered too hastily, praying he wouldn’t view the comment as a hint.

He walked across the room to stand beside her at the window. His giant presence loomed over her, making her want to stretch to her full height, small as she was. What was he doing here, and why, after making himself scarce for days on end, would he suddenly appear and act as if no time had passed?

“Is that Lili over there?” He bent at the shoulders to get a better view of the children at play.

Liza tried to determine where his eyes looked. “Yes. She is pushing little Erlene Barrington in the swing. I notice she watches out for her a lot. Erlene is so tiny compared to the others. And Lili is big for her age.”

“She thinks the world of you, you know,” he said, his throaty whisper massaging her taut nerves.

“Well, the feelings are mutual,” Liza said, meaning it sincerely. “You haven’t told me why you stopped by.” She figured the quicker he stated his purpose and left, the sooner she could regain her normal heart rate.

Moving to her desk, she began to shuffle through some papers. The pendulum clock seemed to have slowed its ticking.

He stepped closer to her desk. “Actually, I hear that you’ve been visiting the families of your students, and I came to see when you might be going out to the Baxter and Bartel farms—that is, if you haven’t already done so.”

“No, I haven’t. Why would you ask?”

“They’re a rough bunch, the Baxters and Bartels. When you decide to go up there, I’d just as soon drive you myself.”

I assure you I don’t need you driving me to the Bartel and Baxter farms. I’ve managed all the other home visits without your help.” Liza gave Ben a self-reliant look, but he didn’t buy it.

“That may be so,” he told her, his own back stiff with stubbornness, “but there aren’t many families in these parts as vindictive as those two. There’s moonshining and who knows what else going on up there in those parts. For all I know they might greet you with a shotgun. It’s just plain not safe for a woman.”

Ben could see by her obstinate look that it wouldn’t be easy convincing her, but he’d be hog-tied before he’d let her go alone.

“I don’t see…”

“Liza, tell me what day you’re planning to go.”

“What?”

“I’m going to drive you, so you may as well stop arguing with me.” Exasperated by her willfulness, he took a couple of calming breaths and waited.

When she still didn’t give an answer, he stepped closer, finding her too irresistible to ignore a second longer, her light blue dress drawn in at the waist to reveal how tiny she was, her golden hair pulled back into a tight little knot, several loose strands falling about her glowing cheeks in gentle ringlets.

Beads of perspiration dotted her idyllic little face. Without forethought, he took a folded kerchief from his back pocket and dabbed her cheeks and brow. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said, shocked by how much he meant it. “And that’s why I insist on taking you.”

“Oh.”

Obviously taken aback by his gentleness, she gazed at him, her blue eyes uncertain. He couldn’t say he blamed her. He’d done everything possible to avoid her for the last several days, too afraid of what might happen if he didn’t. But now here he was doting on her like some kind of teenaged fool. And if he didn’t watch himself, he’d be kissing her flower petal lips before the sun went down.

“When I say those families aren’t safe, I mean what I say. Some folks around here have had run-ins with them. Personally, I haven’t, but I don’t want you taking any unnecessary chances.”

“Oh,” she repeated in a feather-light voice.

He refolded the kerchief and put it back in his pocket, then unthinkingly tucked a couple strands of her golden hair behind a delicate ear. Standing so near, he couldn’t help but notice she smelled of lavender. He wanted to move closer to see if the scent came from her face—or perhaps behind one ear.