Loving Liza Jane

by Unknown

  Ben liked Mrs. Granger. She’d always been a good family friend. But truth be told, he’d miss her dependability almost more than her friendship. She’d been a steady force for his children, Lili in particular, always loving and gentle in her treatment of them.

  “Well, I’m happy for you,” he’d said begrudgingly. “Naturally, we will all miss you dearly.”

  “You know I feel the same.”

  So what was he to do in the interim? Sarah Woodward wouldn’t arrive for several weeks, and then only if she agreed to all his stipulations—caring for his children and the housework, staying at the boardinghouse, and attending church regularly. He was certain the latter was the least of his worries.

  What if she is quite homely? Liza’s words came back as a fresh reminder of yesterday’s heated discussion on the topic. Of course, looks were not an issue, he told himself. Still, he could hardly abide the thought of marrying someone entirely unseemly in looks. Miranda had been beautiful by anyone’s standards. The contrast would be hard to take.

  It’s not fair to keep the news from Lili. She’s impressionable. He hadn’t expected the schoolteacher to be so forthright in her opinion, but he supposed she did have Lili’s best interests in mind, Lili being her student and all. And he had to admit she did have a point. He would have to let his daughter know of his intentions sooner or later.

  As if on cue, Lili sniffed loudly, forcing him to turn his gaze on her. She sat on the far end of the seat, facing straight ahead, Molly snuggled in between them. “Have you ended your crying spell yet?” he asked too harshly.

  Apparently, Molly thought he spoke to her, for her whimpering started up again. “Molly, what is it? Are your teeth bothering you again?” He drew a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and swiped it across the child’s runny nose. Then, slipping an index finger into her mouth, he found swollen gums and discovered the molar responsible for her pain. To top matters, her cheeks were unusually hot. “Maybe we best stop in to see Doc Randolph while we’re at it.”

  “Then could we go see Miss Merriwether?” Lili asked.

  “We’ve been over this before. You don’t need to visit her every time we come to town.” Though it was more Ben who needed to avoid the little lady.

  “But I haven’t seen her since last Sunday.”

  “And you shall see her on Monday when you start school.” He wasn’t about to tell her the teacher was moving into the little cabin tomorrow. Lili would be on Miss Merriwether’s doorstep making a pest of herself from the very beginning. In fact, he would have to lay down some ground rules regarding visiting the teacher when the time seemed right.

  His patience ran as thin as water as he slowed the horses at the town’s entrance. Sitting in a ramshackle chair, Sam Livingston waved a gnarled hand when Ben passed the livery. He forced a grin and waved back.

  The clip-clopping sounds of horses’ hooves filled the air while the stench of manure, dust, and Madam Guttersnipe’s bitter ale carried over the soft breezes. He suspected the Madam had raked in a goodly profit last night by the looks of the littered sidewalk outside her establishment. The notion made him scoff with disgust.

  “What are we doing here?” Lili asked when he pulled up in front of the bank. Her tone denoted no change in temperament.

  “I’m depositing some money. You stay here with Molly.”

  “But I want to go with you.”

  He heaved a sigh and mentally counted to ten. “Lili, you are trying my nerves with your incessant need to argue this morning.”

  She sat back with an even deeper frown and then crossed her arms.

  “Watch your sister,” he ordered, climbing down and heading for the bank, nerves a jangle.

  Chapter Nine

  Acovering of dark, menacing clouds blanketed the little town of Hickman on Monday morning, the first day of school. Swirling butterflies skittered through Liza’s stomach, threatening to mess with her breakfast of buttered bread, apple slices, and black coffee. And if she was nervous, she wondered how her students must feel. The fourth teacher in four years. Surely, most of them were just as apprehensive.

  As for meeting many of her students, she already had, save the troublesome Hogsworth twins, Rufus Baxter, Clement Bartel, and Gus Humphrey. In some cases, one or both parents had shown up with their youngsters at the school last week to make her acquaintance, or she’d met them in church on one of the two Sundays she’d attended. All in all, she was both excited and apprehensive as to how everything would go.

  “Lord, give me strength and wisdom for this day,” she prayed aloud as she set about straightening desks that she had earlier lined up in four perfect rows. Small desks to the front, larger ones to the back.

  As if in response to her prayer, a quiet kind of confidence began to settle in. “I can do this,” she whispered. What was that verse she’d just learned from the fourth chapter of Philippians? “I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me.” Yes, that was the one. She would cling to it throughout the morning.

  She’d risen almost at the crack of dawn, well before she’d seen any movement downhill at the Broughton house. Of course, she’d seen a lighted lamp out in the barn and supposed Mr. Broughton was tending to his livestock, so certainly he was up. The mere image of him moving about had created inappropriate patterns of thought. What had she been thinking? And what right did she have to dally in her brand new, shiny window looking out over the expanse into a dimly lit barn? Surely, he never thought of her in any way but ordinary, so she must do the same. After all, the man was getting married.

  Married. To a woman he’d never even met. She could barely fathom the concept. In fact, the notion frightened her altogether. It would be just her luck to wind up with a regular oaf—plump, lazy, and mean, to boot.

  Moving into the little cabin had been pure joy. Although she’d come to take pleasure in Emma Browning’s friendship, and even admired her for her undeniable spunk and fortitude, she’d been anxious to launch out on her own, to gain her independence. Wasn’t that why she’d left Boston in the first place? Of course, she missed her aunt and uncle dearly, but every day that she’d spent in Little Hickman had affirmed her decision. No question about it; God had brought her here.

  Several folks had helped her move into the little cabin, simply showing up at Emma’s place that morning, bringing gifts of food and offering their assistance. There were Elmer and Bess Barrington and their two children, Thomas and Erlene; and Andy and Eileen Thompson and their sons, Todd and Samuel. Even Mrs. Winthrop stopped by for a short visit, long enough to mention that Liza’s lack of furnishings should have kept her at Emma’s place. But Liza refused to let the comment darken her spirits.

  Then there were her new neighbors on the other side of the Broughtons—the Bergens. They, along with their nine-year-old son, Thomas, had shown up about noon bearing jars of stewed tomatoes, peaches, a bushel of apples, sacks of flour, sugar, beans, and a fresh batch of apple cider. Add to that the two wooden chairs they’d offered her, a pretty rag rug, and a new set of curtains, and Liza was overwhelmed with gratitude.

  Benjamin Broughton managed to keep his distance, merely waving to her on a trip out to his barn. She suspected he would have ignored her altogether were it not for her calling out to him first. The man was strange, friendlier than a young pup one minute, and completely unobtrusive the next.

  Lili, on the other hand, was at Liza’s beck and call. She suspected the child was pushing for first place in the teacher’s heart. If her father was in the least bit maddening, she found his daughter charming and lovable. Full of antics and lively speech, the girl proved pure entertainment. Yet when Liza had told her to head for home, she’d never balked or complained. Charming, yes. That summed the child up quite nicely.

  “Good morning, Teacher,” said a kindly voice from behind.

  Spinning around, Liza was delighted to find Jonathan Atkins standing in the classroom doorway. He wore a pair of blue trousers and a short-sleeved linen shirt. His sandy-co
lored hair fell lazily across his forehead, giving him a look of mischief.

  “Mr. Atkins!”

  “Please, Jon will do,” he corrected. A bright and genial smile graced his nicely shaped mouth, complementing his square-set jaw.

  “All right, then. What brings you to the school this cloudy morning, Jon?”

  They’d visited only briefly on the sidewalk yesterday, but he’d promised to look her up soon. She found him to be an effortless conversationalist. Moreover, the fact that he wanted to discuss her fair city made him even more interesting.

  “I needed a ray of sunshine, and so I figured I’d find it here.”

  She blushed at his obvious flattery and then patted down invisible wrinkles on the skirt of her yellow-flowered cotton dress.

  “You do look lovely, and if I were several years younger I’d be plum excited about starting school today.”

  She laughed. “Thank you. I needed a boost of confidence this morning.”

  He sobered instantly. “You have nothing to worry about, you know. You’ll do just fine.”

  “I dearly hope so. I’ve heard more remarks than I care to remember about a certain few boys I will be having in my classroom.”

  “Don’t let them scare you, Liza. Those boys need to know that someone loves them first off. If I have the right names in mind, and I believe I do, they haven’t had the best upbringings. Some of these families up in the hills live in squalor, and that’s putting it kindly. You may even have to plug your nose a time or two when you pass by certain desks.”

  That part didn’t bother her. If anything, her heart melted for those less fortunate. She only hoped she could be enough for them. What if she discovered their needs went beyond her meager resources? Liza walked to the window and gazed out at the road. In just a few minutes, students would be strolling toward the school from every direction carrying their lunches in baskets or pails, and perhaps toting school bags. Expectant eyes would look to her for reassurance. She wanted to greet them with hope and a smile. She turned toward Jonathan.

  Perhaps he read worry in her expression, for he hastened forward. “The real reason I’ve come is to offer up a prayer for you—if you’d allow me to, that is.”

  Taken aback and humbled by his kindness, Liza swallowed down a lump of gratitude and blinked back a tear before it fell. She hadn’t realized until now just how much she needed the prayers of others, particularly those of a man of the cloth.

  “I’d be much obliged,” she said, sincerely meaning every word.

  ***

  “Oh, Papa, my stomach is tied up tighter than a ball of yarn. I hope my hotcakes don’t come up on me—or on my desk.”

  Ben chortled as he gazed down at Lili; Molly again nestled between the two of them, much more contented since starting on the soothing medicine Doc Randolph had prescribed for her swollen gums, runny nose, and fever. “Now, why on earth would you be nervous? You know Miss Merriwether better than all the others.”

  “I know, but I don’t know all them hard books.”

  Ben smiled and took advantage of the uncommon peace and quiet of morning, enjoying these few moments with Lili before he dropped her off for her first day of school. Without warning, he wondered if the teacher’s stomach had tied itself in knots as well.

  “Miss Merriwether won’t expect more from you than you’re capable of.”

  “I know what I have to learn this year ’cause I heard it from the ones in grade two last year.”

  “Well then, you have it made, don’t you?”

  She thought that over. “I learned some multiplication facts from Sarah Wilde last year, but she moved.” She made it sound as if the one and only child she could gain some prior knowledge from had left her in the dust.

  “You’ll make new friends who will help you along.”

  She patted the cloth towel atop her lunch basket. “What’d ya put in here, Papa?” Her mind was off and running in various directions.

  He winked at her. “You’ll find a jam sandwich, a jar of peaches, a piece of Mrs. Granger’s pie, and a jar of apple juice.”

  “Is that enough?”

  He gave a light laugh. “I suspect if it’s not I’ll hear about it tonight.”

  “Can I walk home with Miss Merriwether tonight?”

  “That’s a long hike for you.”

  “She walked it this morning.”

  And he’d felt guilty for not offering to take her in the wagon when he’d seen her set out about half past six, her yellow skirts flying, the rim of her bonnet flapping in the gentle breeze. He could only imagine the golden brown tendrils of hair coming loose from that bun before she reached town. Oh, she’d been a remarkable sight all right, marching down that grassy hill purpose driven and ready for business.

  Moments later, he’d shaken himself back to reality when he recalled the letter he’d just sent to the Marriage Made in Heaven Agency, along with the wired money. He had no business watching the petite little schoolteacher head for work from his barn window when he intended to marry another. Sarah Woodward. The name seemed nice enough. He could only hope and pray he’d read the Lord correctly.

  “Well, can I walk home with Miss Merriwether?”

  “I suppose we’ll have to check with her on that, sugar. She may have to stay late tonight since it’s the first day of school. I wouldn’t want you imposing.”

  “I wouldn’t be. Besides, she already invited me.”

  The glimmer in Lili’s eye told him she’d been looking for just the right moment to broach the subject.

  “I suppose you hinted at the idea?” he asked, half scolding.

  “Nope! She just up and came out with it. But she did say I needed to ask permission first.”

  “Well then…I suppose it can’t hurt to keep her company. However, I don’t think it’s a good idea to make it a habit.”

  “I won’t,” she promised.

  The schoolyard seemed full of parents and children, each making their way up the wide steps to the front door. Molly’s plump body supported under one big hand, Ben held Lili’s hand with the other until they reached the door.

  “Good morning, students,” said a cheery Miss Merriwether as students filed past in silent surrender to the opening day of school. Is this the quiet before the storm? he wondered. He couldn’t help but smile at the look of sheer delight on Liza’s face. Apparently, she’d lost her nervousness.

  “Good morning, Mr. Broughton,” Liza greeted him with composure. Ben couldn’t quite tell if she felt as calm as she looked. “And good morning to you, Miss Molly,” she said, pinching one of Molly’s chubby cheeks. Molly giggled and smiled happily for a change and then reached out her fingers to touch the teacher’s face.

  “Miss Merriwether,” Ben returned, trying not to look too hard at her. “I brought you something,” he added, handing Lili over to her.

  Liza took her hand. “Lili, I’m so happy to see you. It will be so nice to have your friendly face to look at whenever I need cheering.”

  Lili looked less than confident as her eyes followed a trail around the room, searching out familiar faces. When she did spot someone, she dropped Liza’s hand, waved at the other child, and scooted off to say hello.

  “I understand you’ve invited Lili to walk home with you tonight.”

  “I did. Did she ask your permission?” Liza asked. He towered over her, her prim features looking up at him.

  “She did, and I consented. I trust she was truthful when she said it was your idea.”

  Liza smiled, and the sight of her perfectly shaped lips framing gleaming, straight teeth stabbed him square in the gut. “Of course. I’ll have her home before supper if that’s all right with you.”

  “That’s fine.” He studied her fading smile as she scanned a roomful of students and adults.

  “You look a trifle worried.” Ben dipped his head so that he came within inches of her face. She exuded some kind of flowery fragrance, rocking his senses and making him want to station himself right n
ext to her for the rest of the morning.

  “Actually, I feel much better than I did, particularly since Jon prayed for me.”

  “Jon?”

  “Yes, he’s right over there.” Ben looked where she pointed and discovered his childhood friend standing across the room visiting with several parents.

  “Ah, I see him,” Ben said. “I’ll have to go say hello.”

  Jonathan Atkins’ genuine smile and friendly demeanor had always had a way of drawing people. So he’d come to wish Liza well and to pray with her. Ben scolded himself for not having thought of it himself. In fact, he hadn’t even prayed aloud with his own daughter, and she’d had the jitters. It would have been a perfect opportunity. Suddenly, he felt like an insensitive brute.

  “Have you known Jon long?” she asked.

  “We made a connection almost immediately when we first met as kids,” Ben told her, his eyes going from her to Jon.

  “Well, he seems like a very kind and nice man,” she replied.

  Ben searched her face. Had Jon already won her notice? And what if he had? He himself had just sent for one Sarah Woodward. He’d best not worry whom Miss Eliza Jane Merriwether set her cap for.

  “Good morning, everyone!” All eyes turned toward the crisp voice of Iris Winthrop. She’d situated herself on the platform at the front of the schoolroom, hands folded tightly at her waist. “Students, take your seats, please. Parents, may I have your attention?”

  All manner of pleasant chatter ceased as the staunch and snappish woman took control. “She has my attention,” Ben whispered good-naturedly.

  Liza tipped her face upward and threw him a half amused, half scolding look.

  He turned his mouth down in a hasty frown and immediately straightened, as if duly reprimanded.