Lizette decided maybe she had the heat too low in her room. It barely seemed any colder out side than it had been in side. She would be glad to have the tea to drink while she looked around the stage.
The windows in the barn were covered with frost, and thin strips of snow sat on top of the door rim. The main double door was wide enough for a farmer’s wagon to pass through it. The walls of the barn had been painted the usual red, and the trim was white. A wide slab of cement stood in front of the door to help with the mud.
The place might be humble com pared to other performance centers, but it was large, clean and sturdy. It even had a heating system. Apparently Mr. Elkton had in stalled heating in the building after the town started using it for their meeting center. Of course, it took a long time to heat up the huge building, so he had suggested she turn the heat on low several days be fore the performance.
Lizette had turned the heat up to fifty degrees yesterday, and she was looking for ward to seeing what the air was like in side the barn.
“Oh,” Lizette muttered as she looked at the barn door. When she’d turned the heat on yesterday, she’d also locked the front door to the barn. She had brought the trunk over that held the props and costumes and she thought the sight of all those might tempt some one to experiment with them. And maybe it had, because now the door was most decidedly un locked. It wasn’t un latched, but clearly some one had gone in side since Lizette had been here yesterday.
Of course, Lizette told her self as she opened the door and stepped into the barn, she supposed that half of the adults in Dry Creek had keys to the barn. One of them might have wanted to check to be sure the heat was on.
Lizette turned on the over head light. She was enough of a city woman to want the lights in stead of the shadows until she figured out if any thing was missing.
The Christmas tree was there, right in the middle of the area they had decided on as the stage. The card board fire place stood next to the wooden rocking chair. The old Christmas stockings that Mrs. Hargrove had hung on the stairs leading up to the hayloft were still tied in place. Folding chairs lined the edges of the barn and a table was sitting at the far end of the barn where they were going to put the pas tries and punch.
No one had moved any thing big.
It was the bath robe, Lizette decided after she looked around. All of the costumes and props were still in the trunk except for the heavy bath robe that the narrator wore. Maybe Charley had come to get it for some reason. Or Mrs. Hargrove might have decided it needed a good washing and taken it with her. It certainly was nothing some one would steal.
Lizette told her self it really didn’t matter as she walked over to the small panel that ran the sound system. A bath robe was the one costume that she could easily re place. She bet there were a dozen old bath robes around that the men of Dry Creek would donate if she made the need known. Especially if she promised the bath robe owner wouldn’t have to actually dance in the ballet along with his robe.
Lizette selected the Nutcracker audiocassette, inserted it into the panel, and turned the volume on low.
Pete Denning kept saying that he was willing to do what ever she needed to help with the ballet, and he could probably find a bath robe in that bunk house where he lived that looked as warm and comfort able as the one Charley had been using. Of course, the reason Pete was so helpful was because he was hoping she’d go out with him when the ballet was over.
If Pete had kept the role of the Nutcracker, he would have studied up on the proper way to give a stage kiss.
So far, Lizette had been able to gently refuse his requests for dates, explaining that it was not proper for her to date one of her students. Pete had offered to quit right then if she’d go out with him in stead. Fortunately, Lizette had talked him out of that idea, as well. But he was bound to ask her out again after the Nutcracker was finished, and she didn’t know what she would say.
The sounds of Tchaikovsky’s music filled the old barn. It truly was beautiful, soaring music Lizette thought to her self. Whoever had set up the speaker system had done a professional job. Several speakers hung from the rafters and several more hung either be side the hayloft or on the other side of the barn by where the refreshment table stood.
If the barn were a few degrees warmer, Lizette would be tempted to take her coat off and dance awhile. If nothing else, the sounds of Tchaikovsky would bring enough culture to the people of Dry Creek to re ward them for coming to the ballet.
Lizette drank the last swallow of her tea before she walked back to the door and opened it a crack. She looked across the road and saw that a light was now on in Linda’s café. Good, Lizette thought, she would forget about the cereal in her cup board and have a proper break fast in the café this morning. After all, it was an important day. A critic from the press was going to come and review her performance.
The blinds were half-drawn on the café windows and there were no customers other than Lizette. The floor was a black-and-white pat tern and the tables and chairs had a fifties’ look about them. A large glass counter filled the back wall. Linda had added a counter recently to sell more baked goods.
There was a phone call just as Linda was bringing Lizette’s order out.
Linda set Lizette’s plate of food down on the counter and answered the phone.
“Some telemarketer,” Linda had said thirty seconds later as she put the phone back on the hook and picked Lizette’s plate up again. “Asking about a taxi in Dry Creek. Anyone from here to Wyoming knows there’s no taxi in Dry Creek.”
“Why would they call the café any way?”
Linda shrugged as she put Lizette’s plate in front of her. “We’re the only business in the phone book with Dry Creek in our name. People get con fused.”
“Well, just as long as it’s not Edna Best from the newspaper.”
Linda snorted. “Edna was born out this way. She’d be the last to call for a taxi.”
Lizette figured it probably was a telemarketer then. In any event, she wasn’t going to worry about it. She had a plate of golden-brown French toast in front of her, and it was sprinkled with blueberries and rasp berries.
Linda went to the kitchen and came back with a bowl of oat meal for her self along with an apple and a small glass of orange juice.
“These frozen berries are the best,” Lizette said.
“I’m trying out a new brand,” Linda said as she sat down across from Lizette.
The two ate in silence for a few minutes. Then Lizette fretted aloud about the newspaper critic. “A re view can make or break a production.”
“Don’t worry. Edna will be positive. She’s probably never even been to a ballet.”
“Still, it doesn’t hurt to be pre pared.”
“Well, she’s liked her coffee strong and black as long as I’ve known her. Having a full cup will go a long way to giving her a positive impression since it’s so cold out side,” Linda said as Lizette finished up her French toast. “I’ll fix up a big thermal jug for you to come get around one o’clock. And I still have a few of those choc o late chip pecan cookies you made. We’ll put those on a plate for her. That should take care of Edna. Did I tell you my afternoon business has picked up since I’ve started selling cookies to go with the coffee?”
Last week, Linda had offered Lizette meals in exchange for baked goods to sell in the café. So far, Lizette had made individual apple coffee cakes and the cookies.
“I’m thinking I’ll try some pies next,” Lizette said as she pushed her plate away. “Maybe cherry and apple with a special order possible for choc o late pecan for the holidays.”
Linda sat across the table from Lizette with her glass of orange juice in her hand. “I can sell all the baked goods you give me. You can make money in addition to your meals. We might even make up a batch of fruit cakes.”
“The people of Dry Creek sure do like their baked goods.”
Linda nodded as she picked up her apple. “They need to eat more fruits and vegetable
s, but you’ll never convince these ranch hands around here. If it’s not meat or bread, they think it’s not food. I’m surprised you haven’t started get ting marriage proposals. I guess they’re all giving you a month or so to settle in be fore they start to pester you with their pleading.”
Lizette laughed. “If they like good cooking, I would think they’d be stopping at your door in stead. I don’t know when I’ve had such good French toast.”
“It’s the bread,” Linda said. “I use sweet bread. Besides, I’ve re fused them all so many times they’ve stopped asking.”
“Don’t you want to get married?”
Linda finished chewing her bite of apple. “I was engaged once. That was enough.”
Lizette didn’t think the other woman could be over twenty-two. “What happened?”
“He decided he wanted to be a music star in stead,” Linda said as she leaned back in her chair and put the rest of the apple on her plate. “Life here in Dry Creek wasn’t good enough for him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. The funny thing is that he’s making it. I’ve started to hear his songs on the radio. He’s even doing some big tour in Europe.”
“But he could have taken you with him!”
Linda smiled. “He offered a while back. I just didn’t want to go. Who wants to be the wife that keeps him back? And then there are the fans. I didn’t want to share my husband with them. No, I’m better off here in the café.”
Lizette noticed that the other woman’s voice was too bright and brittle to be convincing. “Well, if there’s ever any thing I can do, let me know.”
“Thanks,” Linda said as she stood up. “But there’s nothing any one can do. We make our choices in life and then we live with them.”
“But have you talked to him since or writ ten him a letter or any thing?”
Linda shrugged. “What would I say? Sorry you’re be coming a star. I miss the old you. No, he’s gone on and I’ve stayed the same.”
“Well,” Lizette said as she, too, stood up from the table. She noticed the sun had fully risen. It was a new day. “Maybe there will be a nice young rancher move into town and you’ll come to like him.”
“There is Judd Bowman,” Linda said as she stopped walking to the back of the café and turned to face Lizette. “He seems nice enough.”
Lizette swallowed. “Yes, he does.”
“Hmm,” Linda said as her eyes started to twinkle. “He does seem a little preoccupied lately, though. I’m not sure I could get his full attention.”
“He’s just worried about the ballet.”
Linda grinned. “Is that what he’s worried about?”
“Well, he’s probably still worried about his cousin and the kids’ father, too.”
“I don’t know—all I hear him muttering about lately is Pete Denning and how he gets all of the attention in those classes of yours. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was jealous.”
“I try to give all of my students my full attention,” Lizette said. “It’s just that some of them are—”
“—more difficult,” Linda supplied helpfully. “More in de pen dent. More disturbing.”
“Yes,” Lizette said. She was glad some one understood. “Judd is all of those.”
Linda nodded. “Good.”
“I don’t know if it’s good. It does make the ballet more difficult.”
“But doesn’t it make life more interesting?”
“Maybe,” Lizette admitted. “But right now I have a critic to pre pare for and plum filling to make.”
“The kids can help with the plum filling, and Mrs. Hargrove and I will help you with the custard. I’ve never made a cream filling, but Mrs. Hargrove will know how.”
“You have those kettles with the thick bottoms,” Lizette said. “That’s the key right there.”
“How many pas tries do you figure you’ll need?”
“Mrs. Hargrove figures we’ll need twenty dozen.”
“Two hundred and forty!”
Lizette nodded. “She says we’re going to bring in crowds from all around.”
“I’d better get my salads made for lunch right now then, so I can clear the kitchen for the custard. Mrs. Hargrove will be over any minute.”
“Be sure she remembers to come over to the performance area in time to get ready for Edna.” Lizette re fused to call the place a barn. From today until the night of the ballet, it was a performance center.
“She’ll be there. I think she’s excited to be the Ice Queen.”
Lizette smiled. “She’s the Snow Queen. She’s in charge of the snow flakes.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Linda said.
Lizette repeated the words to her self as she left the café. She had nothing to worry about. The people of Dry Creek would be kind critics. They were looking for entertainment, not perfection. Everything would be just fine.
Chapter Fifteen
Nothing was fine. Lizette’s watch was missing. Which meant the schedule was all off. The kids were still at the table cut ting up dried plums, and they should be in their costumes if they were going to practice be fore the dress rehearsal. Plus, Linda had just come over with a message saying that Pete had been out working with the cattle and had run into a bit of a problem, but that Lizette wasn’t to worry. He would be there in no time.
It wasn’t until Linda mentioned that Pete was late that Lizette looked for her watch. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t known how much time had passed. She’d been busy diagramming the steps to a stage kiss and it had taken her longer than she had anticipated. That’s why she hadn’t noticed she didn’t have her watch with her. She’d left it on the card board fire place be fore she’d gone over to the café for break fast.
“I’m sure it was there,” Lizette said as she started walking over to the stage area.
“Maybe the mice took it,” Amanda offered. She had followed Lizette over from the table. The little girl had a dish towel wrapped around her neck for an apron and a piece of twine holding her hair in place. She was licking a spoon that had plum mixture on it. “Or maybe the big rat that lives in the fire place took it. He’s scary.”
“The mice were over there with us cut ting up dried plums and the rat better be in his pickup driving here.” Lizette checked to see that the mice really were still at the table be fore she looked around again. There weren’t any cracks big enough for a watch to fall into, and the furniture in the stage area didn’t have any pillows or other hid den areas. “Maybe some one came in and borrowed it.”
“More likely some one stole it,” Linda re plied. “You could re port it to the Billings police. Charley is probably at the hard ware store by now, and I know he’s itching to call something in now that Sheriff Wall is out of town and has designated him and his son as the men to watch Dry Creek.”
“I don’t think any one would steal it,” Lizette said. She’d only paid twenty dollars for the watch. It wouldn’t be worth it for any one to steal it to re sell it.
Linda shrugged. “Well, Mrs. Hargrove is making some bread dough for ham burger buns for me—I’m running low on buns again. But she’s going to be here any minute.”
Lizette nodded. Judd wasn’t back from Miles City, either. He was going to stop at the jail and talk to who ever was in charge there and then he was going to locate four yards of white silk material for her. He should be back any minute, as well. And, when he did get back, she wanted to go over her diagram with him and explain once again that there is no physical contact in a stage kiss.
“So what time is it again?” Lizette asked Linda.
“My watch isn’t ac cu rate, either,” Linda said. “I was working with it to use it as an oven timer, so I’m not sure if it’s twelve forty-five or one forty-five.”
“Oh, it can’t be one forty-five,” Lizette said. “Edna Best is supposed to be here be fore two and—”
The sound of a car honking came from out side the door.
&nb
sp; “That must be Pete,” Lizette said hopefully. Or maybe Judd. Or Mrs. Hargrove. Anybody but Edna Best. They weren’t at all ready for the re viewer to be here. They weren’t even in costume.
“I’ll go get that coffee,” Linda said as she looked out the window and turned to the door. “And remember, she’s one of us. She won’t go hard on you, and she’s early, any way. Maybe you should send her over for a cup of coffee.”
“Hellooo,” a woman’s voice called from the out side.
Lizette took a deep breath and put a smile on her face. Then she walked to the door of the barn and opened it up. “Welcome. You must be Edna Best.”
The woman nodded. She was a short, plump woman wrapped in a hooded parka. “I wasn’t sure where the performance was.”
“We have some posters up in the hard ware store, and we’re making a sign that says ‘Nutcracker’ to point people to us,” Lizette said, realizing she had also for got ten that they needed pro grams for the evening of the ballet. She hoped that Edna wouldn’t ask to see one. That would show her right away that they were amateurs.
“Most folks will know where it is any way if we say the Elkton barn,” Edna said as she stepped in side. “The only question they’ll have is about the cost. I didn’t see the cost mentioned any where in the notes I have so far.”
“Cost?” Lizette said. “We weren’t planning to charge.”
“Of course you’ve got to charge,” Edna said as she looked around in side. “Maybe not much, but enough to pay your expenses. I know props and costumes don’t come cheap.”
“Most of the costumes are mine, and my former ballet teacher is lending us the props and some more costumes. I’m planning to send her money for post age when I return them to her, but that’s not much of an expense.”
“Ah,” Edna said as she took a small note pad out of her black purse. “That might be a lead. ‘Big-city ballet teacher does favor for local teacher.’”
“I don’t think Madame Aprele would want to be the feature in your story,” Lizette said. “She doesn’t like to be writ ten up in the media un less it’s for her dancing.”
Sugar Plums for Dry Creek & At Home in Dry Creek Page 13
