by Unknown
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.”
Chapter Fourteen
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 clos
er, 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.
“Ben, you mustn’t…”
“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my first name,” he said, suddenly warmed by the realization.
“Yes, well…”
“What were you going to say?”
She moved away from him, taking up the big handbell on her desk. “I’m going to call the students in. I’d rather you weren’t here when they come in.”
“You wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea?”
“Exactly.”
“I’m afraid I can’t leave until you tell me what day you plan to go up to the Bartel and Baxter farms.”
Sighing, she let her shoulders slump in resignation. “How is Wednesday?”
He gave her a victory smile. “I’ll be waiting outside the school with my rig. I’ll see if Emma will watch Lili until we get back.”
“Fine,” she said, keeping a careful distance.
He grinned. “Tell Lili I stopped by to see her, but she looked like she was having too much fun for me to interrupt.”
She nodded curtly. “I’ll tell her.”
“Good-bye, Teacher.”
With that, he walked outside wearing, he knew, a silly grin on his face. And just like that, the name of Sarah Woodward popped into his head—like a nagging ache for which he couldn’t find one ounce of relief.
***
As promised, Ben was waiting outside the schoolhouse on Wednesday afternoon. Climbing down from his rig, he offered up a smile warm enough to match September’s sun. Liza’s insides fairly melted when she saw him, but lest she allow her feelings to show, she gave him a stiff smile and turned her back to him to lock the schoolhouse door.
“Papa, Miss Merriwether got flowers today!” Lili bounced down the steps to greet her father.
“Did she now?” Ben asked. “Does she have a secret admirer?”
“I don’t know if it’s a secret,” she answered, climbing aboard the runabout.
Liza approached the smiling man and took his outstretched hand, feeling a gentle squeeze when he helped her up to the high seat. “An admirer, Miss Merriwether?” His tone was low and guarded. “I’m not sure I like the sounds of that.”
Liza found herself giggling, charmed by the wary look in his eye. Was he toying with her?
“Tell Papa who gave you the bunch of flowers, Teacher.” Lili sat in the seat behind and leaned far enough forward to wrap her arms around her father’s solid neck. Liza couldn’t help but notice the continuing smile on Ben’s sun-bronzed face as he set the horses at a slow trot down Main Street heading for Emma Browning’s place. The clip-clop of their feet against the hard earth competed with the birds overhead. Out of the corner of one eye, she saw him reach a hand up to gently pat Lili’s wrist, and the simple act filled Liza’s heart with some kind of unknown longing. Was she coming to love this family? She’d known them for such a short time, but already they’d touched her heart in more ways than she dared admit.
“Well?” Ben said, turning his gaze on Liza. “Who is this secret admirer?”
Liza gave a light laugh. “I suppose it’s no secret that one of my students seems to have a slight crush on me.”
Ben lifted a thick black eyebrow. “It’s easy to understand why he would.”
His gaze swept over her until she was forced to look away. She was enjoying the repartee far too much to be considered proper. After all, wasn’t Benjamin Broughton betrothed to another? Perhaps she would bring up the matter later if his flirtatious overtones continued.
“Who is it?”
“Sam Hogsworth.”
“Sam? I thought he and his twin brother were troublemakers. What have you done to turn poor Sam into a love-struck noodle head?”
Both Lili and Liza laughed now. “It’s ’cause she’s so pretty, Papa. Everyone says so. You should see how the boys watch her, as if they was old ’nough to court her.”
“Oh, Lili, such talk,” Liza cried, deeply embarrassed by the added attention. “That’s plain silly. Besides, you’re the pretty one. Now, may we please discuss something else?”
Lili rattled off any number of tidbits pertaining to her school day on the way to Emma’s place. As usual, Ben gave her his full attention, even though his watchful eyes kept trailing back to Liza.
Once at Emma’s, he instructed Lili to be on her best behavior, promising to come back for Molly and her as soon as possible.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Liza said after they started on their way up the mountainside.
Ben’s gaze moved over her face until the palms of both her hands turned sweaty and she had to wipe them on her skirt. “Oh, but I do, Liza,” he whispered, his voice carrying its usual mellow tone. “I told you before; I won’t risk anything happening to you. Now, sit back and relax.”
Warmed, Liza closed her eyes to the breezes and allowed herself the luxury of enjoying the ride.
Her visit with the Baxters was unusual, to say the least. Mrs. Baxter showed her face briefly, long enough to present Liza with a cup of lukewarm iced tea, offer her a shy smile, and then scoot back into the kitchen at Mr. Baxter’s gruff orders. The poor woman appeared worn to the bone. Stringy brown hair fell upon scrawny shoulders, while her smudged, gaunt face, although devoid of deep wrinkles, looked old beyond her years. Something in the woman’s eyes ached for recognition.
“Oh, but I would love to have Mrs. Baxter join us, sir,” Liza had said, aching for the woman and annoyed that her husband would dismiss her when he knew good and well that the teacher had come to introduce herself to the family. Of course, where the family was remained a mystery. Either Rufus had conveniently hidden himself, or his father had purposely sent him and the rest of the clan to another part of the house. Rufus was the youngest of ten children. It crossed Liza’s mind that as soon as the children reached age sixteen they probably skedaddled. Maybe it was just Rufus who remained.
“Ain’t a bit necessary,” he’d answered, losing a wad of spittle in the pronouncement.
“But I would like to talk to both of you about what Rufus can expect to learn in school this year. Perhaps Mrs. Baxter could assist him in his studies.”
He laughed outright at her suggestion. “That woman ain’t got the brains of a butterfly. Anythin’ pertainin’ to ar son’s educatin’ best go through me.”
Liza seriously doubted that Rufus had acquired an ounce of intelligence from his father’s genes.
“But—” At that, Ben had jabbed her hard enough in the side to nearly knock her off balance. She took the poke as a clear warning to leave
the matter alone. Still, it did little to settle down her anger at Mr. Baxter’s impertinence.
For the next few moments, she and Ben sat on straight-backed chairs while she tried to initiate pleasant conversation between hasty sips of her iced tea, Ben’s promise to leave the talking to her an instant regret on her part. To make matters worse, the visit lasted only as long as the iced tea, after which Mr. Baxter stood to his feet and shuffled to the door, his way of shooing them on their way.
Liza had barely begun discussing her expectations for the school year, let alone her early observations about Rufus’s lack of interest in learning and Clement’s negative influence. She’d had a nagging feeling from the first day of school that Rufus would be a different boy were it not for Clement’s poor example.
“Thank ya fer stoppin’ by. I’m sure my boy won’t be givin’ ya no trouble. If he does, well, ya have my permission to hit ’im ’longside the head.” To this, he tacked on a throaty laugh.
“Let’s be going, Miss Merriwether,” Ben said evenly. He took her by the elbow. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Baxter.” Then Ben steered her toward the door with both hands on her shoulders.
“I don’t resort to physical punishment,” Liza said, half turning.
“Humph! My boy’s accustomed to rough handlin’.” He puffed his chest up at the remark, as if it were something of which to be proud. “Can’t imagine what the school board was thinkin’ in hirin’ a lady not much bigger than a pea pod.”
He threw his head back and laughed at his own remark. Liza opened her mouth to say more, but Ben stopped her with his cool, “We’re leaving now,” and pushed her out the door.
Once Ben took the horses’ reins in hand and headed up the trail in the opposite direction, Liza let him have it. “What was that about, Benjamin Broughton? You were supposed to accompany me, not thrust me out the door before I finished what I came for.”
“I didn’t thrust you. It was more like a gentle nudge. And the man had finished listening to what you had to say as soon as you said hello.”
