Loving Liza Jane (36 page)

“You don’t look bad, Teacher. In fact, I think you look beautiful,” Lili had offered.

Her overindulgent kindness had brought tears to Liza’s eyes. “Lili, you would think a cat with two heads was beautiful,” she’d teased.

Lili had laughed. “You’re silly.”

After a second’s pause, Ben had turned and pinned her with a thorough look. “I’d say you look a might better than you did five days ago. Everything seems to be healing nicely from what I can see. I don’t think your students will be too shocked. Besides, many of their parents visited you and have no doubt put their children’s minds at ease.”

“Thank you for that, Ben,” she’d said. “I feel better already.”

“Well, good.” Suddenly he’d tapped the horses into a walk, indicating an end to the short conversation. Liza couldn’t help but feel cheated.

“Want me to visit you today?” Lili had asked over her shoulder.

“Lili, don’t invite yourself,” Ben had scolded.

“I would love nothing more,” Liza had replied. “And please bring Molly.”

“Send them home when they get to bothering you,” Ben had called after, his gaze pointing straight ahead.

“Then I’ll never send them home,” she’d returned, hoping for a chuckle from Ben but getting none. Only Lili had laughed with glee at the outlandish remark.

The barn was dark when Liza entered it the next day. She wanted to get an early start on this frosty morning. After all, there was much to do in preparation for her return to school. First, her students would want to know the details of her absence. She’d carefully thought the matter through and decided to be truthful if they asked about the attack, but careful to omit the gruesome details. In other words, she would tell them only what they needed to know. No point to filling them in on everything, but no point, either, in denying that it’d happened. Children needed to know that they lived in an imperfect world where danger lurked—even in a small town such as Little Hickman.

Next, she would need to learn where Bess Barrington had left off with the lessons so she could resume and, hopefully, make a smooth transition.

She lit the big lantern that Ben kept on a shelf near the door, thankful that it provided plenty of light.

Tanner whinnied from his stall and kicked with impatience at the sound of her voice. She smiled at the notion that they’d formed a kind of companionship during their walks to and from the livery. Often she would tell him about her plans for the day, and he would nicker in return, toss up his powerful head, tip back his keen ears, and step up his self-important prance.

“Good morning, everyone,” she called, passing Charlie and Lucy, the draft horses, and then poor Maggie, the lame pony. Ben said she wasn’t good for much but looking at these days, but he didn’t have the heart to put her down. She liked knowing that about him. She stopped for a moment to rub a hand along her muzzle. “You’re a good ole girl,” she whispered before resuming her steps.

A stray chicken had escaped her coop and startled Liza by strutting across her path. “Shoo!” Liza said, putting a hand to her throat to calm herself, noting how her heart had instantly leaped into double-time with the unexpected movement. The past week had been a lesson in training herself not to jump at every little sound. She supposed the attack had done a number on more than just her exterior. It seemed she also had a jumble of nerves to deal with on top of everything else.

Because her back still bothered her, she moved a bit slower than usual as she readied Tanner for their trip to town.

“Need any help?” said a nearby voice.

She knew it was Ben immediately, but her brain failed to send the message to her rigid, taut nerves in time to keep her from jolting backward and then losing her balance on the big wooden box she stood on. In less than a second Ben leaped forward and grabbed her with both his arms to steady her.

“You okay? I should have called to you from the door. I’m sorry if I gave you a scare.”

She noticed that his big hands hadn’t moved from the top part of her arms where they gently squeezed, and because she stood on the box, their eyes met one-on-one, his nearness pressing in on her and making breathing a chore. Tanner edged over, making room for Ben’s unexpected presence and giving a gentle snort of welcome.

“I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said, her voice faltering as tears crept dangerously close to the surface.

Seeing him like this, sleep still evident in his sapphire eyes, his scruffy, unshaven appearance lending to his gruff look, filled her with some raw, untapped emotion. Maybe it was a culmination of the past week’s events and the idea that she’d butted heads with the ugly side of life. Or maybe it was that she stood in the presence of the one who had the ability to soothe her frayed nerves without even trying, heal her shattered emotions with a simple touch of the hand.

“Liza,” he whispered, turning her into an embrace, lifting her from the box and tenderly placing her feet squarely on the solid floor. “You’ve been through a lot.”

She took in his musky scent, her cold nose rubbing up against the roughness of his woolen coat, and released a jagged sigh that kept her tears at bay. Her fists caught and held the fabric where his jacket came together, his rock-hard body pressing against hers until it seemed he would squeeze every last bit of air from her lungs.

Tanner turned his head to nuzzle the two of them, but neither seemed to notice, Ben’s ministering to her tattered emotions a distraction to them both.

A light kiss on the top of Liza’s head made her long for more of him, and so she tilted her face upward just slightly, hoping that the move might encourage him to journey to her lips. Suddenly, it mattered little what Mrs. Winthrop might think. Yes, she’d signed a contract, but she couldn’t very well control the pounding of her heart and the urgent need to love this man.

But just as she issued the silent invitation, his hands traveled down her coat sleeves and stopped at her wrists. He set her back from him and gazed into her eyes, his face a picture of perplexity. How could she set him straight, erase his confusion, if she couldn’t explain the changes that had taken place within her own heart? No, it was best to allow him to speak first.

“I’ll finish saddling Tanner,” he said with curtness, unexpectedly dropping her hands to her sides and spinning around to face the impatient stallion.

Disappointment raced through her veins, leaving a trail of regret. Words failed her, for she couldn’t begin to express her feelings without first knowing what he thought. He’d kept distance between them for the last five days. Was he even now kicking himself for having touched her? And had his feelings for her so changed that the mere thought of kissing her lips left him cold?

Silence filled the gap until she mounted Tanner without Ben’s assistance, standing on the box and putting her foot in the stirrup, and then throwing her other leg up and over.

“Have a good day,” he issued from his place on the floor, broad legs positioned a foot or more apart, his stance straight and intractable.

“And you as well,” she replied, turning Tanner around and nudging him into a slow walk. Outside, she urged him into a canter.

Better to be completely out of sight before she let the tears flow.

***

The time passed rapidly, too fast to suit Ben. With each day’s passing, he came that much closer to having to face the person of Sarah Woodward, and still he wasn’t one step closer to knowing what to say to her when he did lay eyes on her.

How would she handle his immediate rejection, his suggestion that she head back East? He couldn’t marry someone he didn’t love, he’d decided, couldn’t even court her in his present state of mind. He’d added up his funds and decided he could offer her a cash settlement for her trouble, but would it be enough?

Would she rant and rave about having made a useless trip, complain that he’d wasted her time, or worse, melt into a pool of tears, her disappointment mingling with the grief of having already suffered a great loss, the death of her mother?

To say Ben felt like a heel would be putting the matter in gentle terms. Perhaps saying he felt like a brainless, coldhearted, worthless idiot would be slightly closer to reality.

“Papa, it’s Friday,” Lili said, coming out of her bedroom dressed in her Sunday best, Molly trailing in her cotton dress, barefoot and unkempt.

“Yes, it’s Friday, so why are you dressed as if you were heading for church and not for school?”

“Miss Merriwether said we could read a Christmas play today and I’m to read the part of Jesus’ mother. I think I should look my best.”

“Ah,” Ben said, “I agree.” He touched the hot mug of coffee to his lips, then took a long, slow sip of the brew, watching Lili over the rim.

“Todd Thompson will be Joseph.” She scowled and wrinkled her nose. “But just because he’s going to be my husband doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

“Of course not.”

“Rufus, Gus, and Freddie are the wise men.” Lili took the piece of buttered bread Ben offered her along with the cup of milk. After taking a good-sized bite and chewing it down, she said, “Christmas is only two weeks away, Papa. Ain’t that thrillin’?” Ben arched an eyebrow. “I mean, isn’t it thrillin’?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t muster her enthusiasm. Too many things weighed heavy on his mind. “Absolutely exhilarating.”

“Oh, Papa, you’re silly. Can’t you be serious?”

She had no idea how truly somber was his mood. What would Lili think if she learned a woman was coming, one he’d sent for, no less, with aspirations for being his wife and the mother of his children?

Later, after dropping an energized Lili at school and Molly at Emma’s, Ben headed for Johansson’s to buy a new saw, some nails, and a post digger. Grady Swanson’s sawmill was his next stop, where he picked out some boards for finishing off the fence repair. On his way out the door, he bumped into Rocky Callahan.

“Rock, how you been?”

The man’s dark features seemed to give away his sour mood.

“Wonderful, just wonderful,” he answered, the sarcastic tone hard to miss. “My niece and nephew are coming in on today’s stage.”

“The stage? You serious?”

“Yeah, ain’t that something? It’s not often the stagecoach comes to town, but I hear it’s carrying an assortment of people.”

Ben’s gut tightened at the news. Would Miss Sarah Woodward be among its passengers?

“That so?” A moment passed before Ben continued. He dreaded to ask the question. “How is your sister?”

Rocky shifted his weight as his face went sullen, a streak of emotion flashing across it. “She passed on. Time came quicker than anyone expected.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Rocky. Really sorry.”

“Not as sorry as me,” the fellow said, kicking a stone with the toe of his boot.

“No, of course not.”

“Liz and I weren’t all that close. That’s why I’m dreading taking in her kids. They’ll be like strangers to me.”

“It’ll be difficult at first, but time will begin to close in that gap of awkwardness,” Ben said, as if he had a clue of the vastness in Rocky’s assignment.

“Maybe so, but that isn’t what I’m worried about.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked.

“I haven’t time for these kids. Haven’t time to see to their physical needs, let alone the emotional ones they’re bound to carry with the loss of their only parent.”

Ben turned thoughtful. “I see what you mean.” He laid a hand to Rocky’s hard shoulder. “I’ll keep you in my prayers, Rock. God has an underlying plan. I’m certain of it.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard that before,” he muttered. “I best get moving. I’ve a lot to accomplish. Plan to add another room to my cabin.”

Ben might have offered his help were it not for the fact of his own level of responsibility. The notion that he’d bitten off more than he could chew weighed heavy. “Let me know if you need help with the new room,” he replied, feeble as it was, watching as Rocky gave a weak smile and strode off.

“Father, go with him, give him a sense of hope in the middle of his circumstances,” Ben quietly prayed.

“Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his mercy.”

The comforting words from the Psalms lent peace even to Ben as he ambled back to his wagon.

***

Anticipation lingered in the air like the smell of fresh-cut pine bows. The students hurried through their lessons, knowing that when everyone had accomplished his or her assignment, they would set about reading the Christmas play. Everyone had some job to carry out, whether it was moving a prop or reading an important line of a designated character.

The children had worked hard this week, making Liza’s return to the classroom not only a pleasure, but also easier than she’d have expected. To her delight, Bess Barrington had done a fine job in her absence. She’d left a glowing report of the children’s efforts with nary a remark about any ill behavior, and had even assisted the class in designing pretty “welcome back” cards, which she had placed on Liza’s desk. Bess had written a note that she’d left alongsude the children’s cards:

I have always longed to be a teacher, but with Thomas coming early in my marriage, followed later by Erlene, it seemed impossible. This past week has been wonderful for me, although I’m sorry for the horrible circumstances that made it possible.

Having Erlene and Thomas in the classroom, and watching their bright minds at work, only made my experience all the pleasanter.

I trust you are doing well.

Liza folded up the missive, which she’d already read at least a dozen times that week, and stuffed it between two standing books on her desk.

“Is it almost time for the play, Miss Merriwether?” asked Lili in a high-pitched whisper. Of course, the rest had heard her, their enthusiasm equally matched.

Liza checked the clock on the wall. Two more hours of school hung between them and their weekend. “I should think it won’t be long now.”

“I wish our parents could have watched us,” offered Lenora Humphrey from her desk situated halfway back. Liza noticed that she, along with most of the girls, had copied Rosie and Lili in fastening a Christmas angel to the front of her desk. Apparently, the boys would have none of it, however.