by Unknown
“Even reasonable men make poor choices, Miss Browning,” he had added, equally challenging.
The hushed verbal match made Ben wonder if the two of them had forgotten he existed in the same room.
She swept Jon over with a scathing look. “I couldn’t agree more. However, in the case of Mr. Broughton, I believe he has more sense than your average, ahem, levelheaded man.”
Whatever she’d intended by the statement, she’d managed to put Jon Atkins off with it. Perhaps it was her expression, something in the way she’d defied him with a mere look, her blue-eyed, China-doll face a direct conflict with her frozen glare. Whatever the case, Jon seemed rankled afterward, which was strange coming from a man adept at making a typical female swoon under his charm. Moreover, the notion that Jon had met his match in Emma Browning gave Ben a fair amount of satisfaction.
The road to town seemed filled with children hurrying home from school. If it weren’t for the dark clouds, he’d have allowed Lili to walk home with Liza, but no telling what the skies held. No, after picking up Molly he would swing by the school and insist they accept a ride.
A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky at that precise moment, followed quickly by a crash of thunder. Ben jerked in spite of his usual sense of calm, thankful that he’d thought to use the fold-up top. At least they would all stay dry on the journey home.
By the time he reached Emma’s, the rain fell in sheets, nearly blinding him. Throwing the reins over the hitching post, he made a dash for the covered porch. Emma opened the door as soon as he lifted his hand to knock.
“No need to knock, Ben. This is a public establishment, not my private living quarters. I live upstairs, remember?”
He gave a sheepish grin as he wiped the rain from his shoulders and stomped his feet on a rag rug. “I’ll try to remember that. How was Molly for you?”
“As perfect as an angel,” she said, pointing to the crib set up in the room off the parlor. He could see even from a distance that his baby slept soundly. Even the next round of thunder did not rouse her.
“Sounds like quite a storm,” Emma said, peeking out the parlor window.
“It’s coming down hard now. I best get over to the schoolhouse and fetch Liza and Lili. I dearly appreciate this, Emma,” he said, heading for the little room where Molly napped. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t offered.”
“Don’t give it a thought. Bring her by in the mornin’, preferably after I’ve served my guests their breakfast.”
“I’ll drop her off after I take Lili to school. How would that be?” He lowered his voice to a whisper when he drew near his sleeping baby.
“Fine.”
Ben gave Emma a quick perusal. He noted that she’d tied her blond hair back in its usual bun. Several strands had escaped it, however, indicating that she’d done her share of bending and reaching during the day, probably tending to Molly.
No one could ever accuse Emma Browning of being lazy. Her faded cotton dress bore plenty of stains, evidence of her work-filled days. Still, the raggedy garment fit her curvaceous frame perfectly, making him suddenly wonder just why it was she’d never married. Surely, men found her attractive enough. Even he had noticed her lovely features, although he’d never voiced it. No point in misleading her.
“How’s the teacher settling in?”
Ben hadn’t so much as welcomed Liza into the neighborhood, having decided that walking over there just might be a breach in propriety. “I expect well enough.”
To avoid Emma’s silent appraisal, he bent to lift his sleeping daughter. Molly stretched and curled into his embrace, her downy blond head snuggling deep into the curve of his neck, her little hands tucking between her and Ben’s broad chest. Soft breathing meant he’d barely disturbed her. Never would he tire of holding his daughters in his arms like this, no matter how old they became.
Throwing a blanket over her, he smiled over the top of her head and mouthed another thank you to Emma before heading out the door and into the rain-soaked afternoon.
The schoolyard looked deserted save a scruffy, long-haired cat hunched under the porch steps seeking shelter from the storm. Jumping off the rig’s platform, he threw the blanket over Molly’s head and made a run for the schoolhouse, hoping to find the teacher and Lili waiting inside. Yet, when he turned the doorknob, he found the building locked up tight.
Sighing, he ran back to the wagon and again climbed aboard, uneasy about the notion of them walking in open fields in the midst of an electric storm.
Deafening thunder reached his ears just as streaks of lightning lit the darkened skies. Keeping the blanket over his now fussing baby, he tipped his face into the driving, blinding rains and turned the rig around, heading for the dirt trail that led toward home, hoping to come upon the wayfaring pair.
***
Liza and Lili hovered in the cave to which Lili had led them. “Ain’t it just plain wonderful in here, Miss Merriwether?” Lili asked, her adventurous spirit almost contagious.
Almost, but not quite.
Liza managed a weak smile while watching the torrential rains through the cave’s small opening. Pools of water collected on the outside, but because they’d had to step up to the opening, they were free of any danger of getting any wetter than they already were. One thing was certain; the cave had served its purposes for keeping them safe and dry. She could only hope that Mr. Broughton would understand when she delivered his daughter later than she’d promised.
“It’s—well, lovely, I suppose,” Liza said in response, adjusting her position on the rocky floor, seeking out a place with which to find some measure of comfort. “I dearly hope nothing else has sought shelter in here.” Liza looked behind her, dismayed to find nothing but inky blackness that seemed to go on forever. “How far back does this cave go?”
“I don’t know. Me an’ my friend Lenora Humphrey found it last summer.”
“Gus’s sister.”
“Yes. She ain’t nothin’ like her brother though.”
Liza wondered how Lili’s father, with his refined English inflection, handled his daughter’s Kentucky accent.
“Isn’t, Lili. You mustn’t say ain’t.”
“She isn’t like her brother,” Lili conceded. “We are nearly best friends, Lenora and me. But I also got Eloise Brackett for a best friend, and Rosie Bartel, and then there’s Sarah Jenkins,” she rattled on, “but she’s thirteen, which is a might old for a best friend.”
“Age doesn’t matter that much if you have things in common,” Liza said, leaning into the cool, rock-strewn wall and temporarily closing her eyes to ward off a bullying headache.
“My papa is twenty-nine. He’s really my best friend.”
Liza had wondered about his exact age. Now she needn’t wonder anymore.
“As it should be.”
“Is your papa your best friend?” Lili asked.
“My papa died, but I suppose he would have been.”
“You don’t have a papa?” The child’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “Do you got a mama?”
“Nope, I’m afraid not. I lost them both to a fire—when I was very young.”
Wondering if the girl would now demand details, Liza braced herself.
“Who adopted you?”
Liza laughed lightly. “Well, my aunt and uncle never actually adopted me, but they raised me and treated me exactly as if I were their daughter, and I love them very much.”
“Do you miss them?” Lili asked in rapt wonder.
“I certainly do. But I’m happy I came to Kentucky to be your teacher.”
Comfortable silence filled the next few moments until another round of thunder shook the ground. Liza drew the child into her embrace, happy when Lili didn’t resist.
“I don’t have a mama, either.” The words came out on a hoarse whisper.
Liza’s heart took a tumble. “I know that. And I’m very sorry for your loss.” She fingered the child’s long golden braid.
; “Papa says that there ain’t no point to being mad at God about takin’ ar mama, either, because God knew ’zactly what He was doing.”
“I believe he was right in telling you that,” Liza said, swallowing hard.
“God took my mama to heaven just as soon as my sister was born.” Lili sucked in a long, laborious breath after letting loose of the words. “But I don’t blame Molly!” That she added in particular haste.
“Well, of course you don’t. I’m sure no one would accuse you of such a thing.”
“One time Andrew Warner said, ‘I bet you wished your sister wasn’t born.’”
“Oh, Lili.”
“I kicked him,” she announced matter-of-factly. “And then he cried and ran to Mr. Lofthouse.”
Liza certainly didn’t condone violence, but in this case, it seemed warranted.
“Then what happened?”
“Mr. Lofthouse didn’t do nothin’—anything,” she self-corrected. “When I told him what Andrew said to me, he just told that boy to leave me alone.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Another lull filled the space between them, Lili’s hot breath seeping through the material of Liza’s sleeve. “Sometimes I wish my papa would find me a new mother.” Liza’s breath hitched at the unexpected declaration. “But then I feel guilty when I think it.”
Apparently, Lili’s father still hadn’t disclosed his plan to send for a mail-order bride, and it peeved her plenty. Did he plan to wait until the woman arrived to make the announcement? She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like suddenly to be introduced to your new mother. However, the matter was none of Liza’s business. Hadn’t Mr. Broughton clearly stated as much when she’d tried to interfere?
“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” Liza said simply. “It’s natural for a little girl to want a mother. I don’t know what I’d have done if it weren’t for my aunt Hettie.”
“I would want her to be pretty, of course,” Lili said.
“Of course.”
“My mama was real pretty. Was your mama pretty?” Big blue eyes met Liza’s gaze.
“All the pictures I’ve seen of her indicate that she was. And my father was handsome.”
“My papa’s handsome, don’t you think?”
The question set her off balance. “Yes…Yes, I think he’s very handsome.” No point in hiding the plain truth.
Lili stretched her neck so that she could better see into Liza’s face. Then she studied her with particular care. “If I got a new mama, I would want her to look ’zactly like you.”
“Oh, Lili, I do believe that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Maybe you could marry my papa someday. I could ask God to make it happen.”
Liza held her breath. One thing she’d learned early on about Lili Broughton was that her mind traveled nearly as fast as the speed of light.
“Sweetie, I’m not sure you ought to pray for that.”
“Why not? Don’t you think God answers prayers?” Lili’s eyes grew to boulder size.
“Well, yes, I believe He does, but sometimes we have to be careful what we ask for.”
With a confused look, the child continued, “Papa says that God will give us everything that we ask for if it lines up with His will, and if it’s something that we need.”
“Lili! Liza!” A distant male voice carried on the wings of another ear-splitting crash of thunder.
“That sounds like Papa!” Lili squealed, crawling to the opening.
Liza’s heart thumped unevenly.
“Papa! Papa, we’re over here! Miss Merriwether and me are havin’ us a friendly little conversation.”
Liza worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Oh dear, the way Lili made it sound, they were having a regular picnic. All that was missing were the fancy little sandwiches and a platter of cookies. She began to question whether she should have allowed Lili to talk her into stopping. Yes, they’d found necessary shelter, but, on the other hand, if they’d just trudged along, they would likely have been home by now.
How long had Mr. Broughton been out searching for his daughter, and would he hold Liza responsible for detaining her?
Worse, in what kind of mood would he be once he found them nestled in a cave?
Chapter Eleven
Ben let loose a long-held breath and thanked God from the bottom of his heart when he heard his daughter��s voice, then saw her waving wildly, leaning out of a hole in the side of a rock formation at the foot of a huge stony slope.
Kentucky was known for its many caves. He might have known Lili would discover this low-lying one, nearly covered up completely by overgrown brush, and stationed well off the beaten path. It was smart of them to seek shelter. He wondered if Liza had been the one to suggest it.
He clucked at the horses to hurry them along, eager to make sure both the teacher and Lili were fine.
As if sensing something exciting lay in store, Molly poked her head out from under the dampened blanket. “We found them, Mol,” Ben whispered with a smile.
“Gaaaa-gaaaa!” Molly babbled in response, flapping both her arms under the blanket.
“That’s right. Thank You, God.”
He’d already circled the trail twice and had been about to go back into town and report his daughter missing to Sheriff Murdock. It would be the second time since the teacher’s arrival in Little Hickman that he’d been tempted to pay the sheriff a visit. It made him wonder if trouble didn’t follow the teacher. Even her aunt had said Liza could find it faster than a worm at the end of a fishing pole.
“Papa, Miss Merriwether and me been talkin’ about lots of things,” his daughter said as he drew nearer. Lightning struck and, moments later, another round of thunder erupted. It would seem the storm planned to hold on.
“Have you now?” Ben reined in the team at the front of the cave.
“Yeah, and I told her I’m going to ask God…”
At that, the schoolteacher hastily moved Lili aside and poked her head out the opening.
“Mr. Broughton, I can explain. The rain was absolutely drenching, and then what with the thunder and bolts of lightning, well, I…we thought that finding shelter was of utmost importance. Lili remembered this cave that she and Leonora Humphrey had discovered last summer. And so she led me to it, even though I went rather reluctantly. I knew you would wonder…”
“Miss Merriwether, the important thing is that you’re both safe. Now stop your jabbering and climb aboard my wagon. It’s not completely dry in here, but the top does ward off the worst of the rains.”
“Yes, sir, we shall do that straightaway.”
The creek had expanded considerably, making Ben wonder what tomorrow would bring if the rain refused to let up. He’d seen Little Hickman Creek swell to river proportions in less than twenty-four hours with continuous rain. If that were the case this time, it could become impassable. Even the bridge upstream could wash away with heavy rains. He pulled the horses to a halt at the bank and studied the situation.
“Mr. Broughton, shouldn’t you consider going the extra half-mile to the bridge crossing?” Liza called from the back seat. Relentless water pounded on the wagon’s tarp-like ceiling, doing little to keep them all dry. Much of the precipitation seemed to be falling sideways since the wind had picked up, making the conditions worse than ever.
“Don’t know how safe that would be. It’s a rickety structure, and what with these torrential rains, I’m afraid it might not hold. I believe I’d rather take my chances here.”
“Do you often get rains this heavy?”
“It’s a might unusual to see it come down so hard and so fast,” he answered, looking straight ahead.
“I’m scared, Papa.” Lili’s voice held high-pitched alarm.
“Don’t be, sugar. I won’t let anything happen to you. Liza, will you take Molly, please?”
“Of course.”
Molly went willingly when Ben lifted her over the seat. The exchange took but a second, but in
that brief time, their eyes connected and held. He glimpsed concern and so he whispered, “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
She nodded and managed a brave smile.
Turning around, he muttered a prayer for protection, then tapped the reins, urging the horses forward. As if sensing the danger, they advanced with caution, swinging their mighty heads from side to side and snorting their objections.
“Yah!” Ben hollered, slapping them harder. “Yah!”
One step, two steps, three—they hit the fast-moving waters and quickly sank up to their bellies. How deep was it? No matter, it was too late to turn them around.
Neighing with fright, the horses stopped in their wake, but Ben rejected their stubbornness and urged them into the water’s depths, resorting to the whip more than he would have liked. Obeying, they resumed the trek, snorting their fury at being forced into the cold water.
The wagon tipped precariously, and when they reached the halfway point, water began seeping into the bottom of the carriage.
Lili let out a scream, but Liza must have muffled it with her hand, for the child quieted quickly.
“Almost there,” Ben called while fighting to keep calm himself, feeling the crushing weight of responsibility for his passengers as the waters trickled in, flooding the floor. “Almost there,” he repeated.
The well-trained horses kept their footing and reached the other side, their hooves vibrating the earth as they stomped and clomped on the muddy banks, continuing to pull until the wagon cleared the powerful waters. Once out of harm’s way, Ben called the horses to a halt, threw the reins over the brake stick, and whirled around in his seat.
“Everybody okay?”
Liza sat stiff as a corpse, her eyes bulging with moisture, her face devoid of color. Lili’s head was buried in the teacher’s side, her eyes clamped tightly shut against the cotton fabric of Liza’s clinging-wet dress. Only Molly looked at peace with herself and the world as she poked her head out from under the blanket.
