by Unknown
“Well, then…” he’d started.
Frustrated, she’d said, “There must be something he can do.”
“He’s promised to visit and look for a chance to talk to Mrs. Bartel privately, but aside from that, his hands are tied,” Ben had told her.
“Angus will never leave her side.”
Ben had shrugged. “It’s the best Will can do, Liza.”
She’d walked along, waiting for him to slap his horses into a faster pace and leave her behind. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d continued in a mellow tone, melting her bones in spite of the brisk, biting air. “I want to talk about what happened between us, Liza.”
She’d swallowed down a hard lump. “Nothing happened.”
“What do you mean? I kissed you, and you kissed me back. That’s something.”
“I told you I don’t want to speak of that. I’m doing my best to forget it ever happened, and I’ll thank you to do the same.”
“And I told you I won’t be forgetting it anytime soon.”
“Well, you best train your mind otherwise. Now, would you kindly leave me to my walking? I’m working out my day’s lessons in my head.”
He’d given her a heavy sigh and a dark look to match. “We will discuss this, Liza. If not today, then soon.”
“Good day, Mr. Broughton,” she’d replied.
After that, he’d shaken his head and turned his team around. She’d thought he was going to town, but apparently, he’d only meant to drive her to the school.
She’d been harsh with him, but she didn’t have the time to consider either of their feelings. It was entirely true that Mrs. Winthrop wouldn’t approve were she ever to discover Liza with Ben. Why, Liza could lose her job on the spot, and then where would she be?
A female teacher never compromises herself, the contract clearly stated. Marriage or other unseemly behavior by women teachers is strictly forbidden. Not that she had done anything unseemly with Benjamin Broughton. God Himself knew she had nothing for which to feel guilty, unless it was the fact that she might very well be falling in love with the English farmer.
Late fall was upon them. The leaves had turned many shades of oranges, yellows, and brownish hues, transforming the rising and falling terrain of northern Kentucky into a magnificent arena of color. Never had Liza seen such beauty. Although Boston’s rural areas boasted similar colors, the city where she’d grown up provided no match when it came to Kentucky’s leafy display.
Autumn sunshine cast its warm glow on Liza’s shoulders as she made the after-school hike up the path toward her cabin. Shifting the weight of her satchel to her other shoulder, Liza strode over the newly built bridge that spanned Little Hickman Creek. Once across, she spotted her cozy cabin at the top of Shannon’s Peak, nestled amongst two tall pines, several oaks, some flowering bushes, and numerous evergreens. It was a welcome sight after a long day of teaching, the square little dwelling with its smokestack chimney, new curtained windows, and cheery front door seeming to call out a greeting. What a change from the first time she’d seen it in early August.
The weight of her bag reminded her of the stack of papers that awaited correcting once she finished her supper of stew. Just because the school day had come to an end didn’t mean her work had also finished. Often, the mountain of papers to correct at the close of the day kept her up into the wee hours of the morning.
“Miss Merriwether!” Lili Broughton waved her arm and ran down the front steps of her own house.
“Hello, Lili,” Liza called out, waving back. The child had earned a warm place in Liza’s heart, one that no one else came close to filling. She knew it wasn’t right for any teacher to choose one child over another, but in Lili’s case, it had happened before she had the chance to prevent it.
“Papa said I should invite you to supper. Can you come? Please?”
Liza stopped in her tracks while Lili kept up her fast approach, finally screeching to a halt in front of her, breathless, freckled face aglow.
“Oh, Lili, I…” Leave it to Ben to send Lili in his place. He knew she would decline an invitation coming from him, but one from his daughter, well, that was another story.
“Please…” begged Lili, one long, crooked braid slung over her shoulder.
“Well, honey, I’ve already planned my supper. In fact, it’s been stewing all day on a low flame.”
“But can’t you eat it tomorrow?”
Lili laughed at the eager-faced child, her blue eyes bright and intelligent.
She patted her heavy schoolbag. “Look at all the papers I have to correct.”
“I can help—and so can Papa.”
It was then she saw Ben Broughton saunter out onto his porch and wrap a muscled arm around one of the porch columns, his legs crossed at the ankles, his eyes, even from this distance, scrutinizing. On his lips, he’d planted one of his infamous slanted grins, the kind that seemed to heal her tired, achy joints, smooth her jagged emotions.
“Well, I suppose I could wrap the kettle up tightly and store it in a cool place until tomorrow.”
Instantly, Lili went into a sort of happy dance, spinning circles until her long cotton skirt extended in a bell.
“You’ll get dizzy, and then you won’t feel like eating,” Liza said, realizing how like a mother she’d just sounded. The realization struck her so that she glanced in Ben’s direction once more, only to find him smiling wider.
What was she doing? Certainly, Mrs. Winthrop would have her job if she discovered Liza taking supper in the presence of a gentleman, worse, in his home. Rather than consider the consequences, however, Liza took the small hand offered her and allowed the child to pull her in the direction of the Broughton house.
The afternoon and evening turned out more than pleasurable. After supper, she’d helped with the cleanup, just as she had the other time she’d shared a meal with them. This time, however, it was Ben who worked alongside her while Lili tended to her baby sister.
“Thank you for the supper. You’re turning into quite a cook,” Liza said to Ben while she washed the dishes and he dried and put them away.
He chuckled. “My chicken ’n dumplin’s with mashed potatoes is one of only two specialties I lay claim to. After that, I’m afraid my cooking skills are almost nil.”
Liza smiled. “And what is this other specialty, if I may ask?”
“Why, beef dodgers and baked beans, of course.”
“Beef dodgers? What are those?”
Going still in a show of disbelief, Ben cried, “You, my dear, have not lived until you’ve eaten my beef dodgers.”
“Oh? I’ll be the judge of that.” She giggled. “What are they?”
“Little corncakes filled with minced beef. The recipe followed us over on the ship from Europe.”
His mention of the ship spurred on questions about his family, which he freely answered, and before she knew it, he’d told her about his parents and grandfather, and their dreams for coming to America.
After they had washed, dried, and put away the last dish, Lili talked her father into taking his violin down from a high shelf and serenading them with songs. His deep, resonant voice carried throughout the small house while Lili played with her sister on the floor and Liza watched and listened, warmed to the tips of her stocking-clad feet by the sweetness of it all.
Next, Lili pulled down a checkerboard, and the three of them took turns playing checkers, laughing and teasing the entire time. Although Lili beat Liza on more than one occasion, neither could triumph over Ben, so with chagrin, they eventually declared him checker champion of the night.
“Papa never lets me win,” Lili said in a near pout, pushing back from the table. “He says I have to learn to be a good loser.”
“He’s right,” Liza said, smiling. “That way, when you finally do beat him in the game, he will have learned from you how to take his loss graciously.”
Ben laughed at that, his eyes freely roving over Liza’s face, lingering for a moment on her mouth. Liza felt her face go r
ed as a beet and so she quickly looked at Lili, who was stretching to put away the checkerboard.
“I can’t wait for October Fest!” the child suddenly announced when she turned to face both adults.
“I’ve heard it’s quite an affair,” Liza said, clasping her hands together and resting them on the table. Although the event wasn’t scheduled for at least another week, the townsfolk were already abuzz about it. The Friday of the festival even warranted a day off school. Mrs. Winthrop had made that clear right from the start when Liza signed her contract and the woman had given her a calendar of holiday events and vacation dates. “What shall I expect at this—festival?”
“Oh, all the kids get balloons, there’s pie eating contests, three-legged races, running relays, pumpkin carving, baseball games, and lots of food.”
Lili seemed up on everything and Liza laughed at her childish enthusiasm. “It sounds like a wonderful time.”
“Oh, it is. Mostly the kids play the games and the big folks stand around and visit until some man announces it’s time for the baseball game.”
Liza pictured it. It would be her first-ever community picnic, and she found herself catching Lili’s excitement and anticipation. She’d even set the older students to work on constructing signs to advertise the occasion. That very afternoon they’d gone out attaching them to store windows and lampposts.
“It’s actually a celebration of harvest,” Ben offered.
“We missed last year’s fair ’cause Papa and me was sad,” Lili chimed. “Ar mama…”
“Lili, why don’t you get Molly set for bed?” Ben hastily interrupted. The baby was sitting on the floor not far from Liza, growing crankier by the minute while the rest of them visited.
Without forethought, Liza pushed back her chair and extended her arms to the child. Molly’s whining ceased as she considered Liza’s silent offer, then quickly accepted it.
Her pudgy warmth soon dissolved any doubts in Liza’s mind about freely loving this child as much as she did the older one. Instinctively, and almost as if it were second nature to her, she soothed the child’s tears by wiping them with the pad of her thumb and speaking into her velvety ear.
Moreover, when she looked out the corner of one eye she glimpsed Ben watching and thought she detected a glimmer of something in his expression that she dared not evaluate too closely.
What am I doing, heavenly Father? The prayer tripped through her mind like an autumn leaf breaking free of its branch and drifting to the earth below. Have I gone too far to turn back?
“If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.”
Believe? All things are possible? Exactly what was God trying to tell her?
“I’m afraid I really must be going,” Liza announced out of the blue, walking to the other side of the table and placing the baby into Ben’s capable arms.
Ben’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Already? But…”
“Yes,” she announced, feeling on the verge of tears—and for no good reason other than that she was a woman fighting a battle with her fierce emotions. “I’m sorry. Thank you for the supper and—and the hospitality. I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Lili.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday,” Lili said happily.
“Oh, silly me, how could I forget something like that?” Ben’s eyes followed her every move, hastening her need to escape. “Then I guess—I’ll see you at church on Sunday,” she added, turning toward the door.
“Wait, I’ll walk you up the hill,” Ben offered, suddenly pushing his chair back and creating a loud scraping sound along the planked flooring.
“No!” she said, turning to give him a look she could only hope and pray he would read as willful determination. “I can manage on my own, thank you.”
Taking a step backward, he shook his head ever so slightly, sending her a silent message of annoyance. She knew what he was thinking; she was running away. Well, perhaps she was.
Outside, she scampered up the side of Shannon’s Peak and made for her tiny cabin, all the while biting back autumn’s chill and the notion that she was fast losing control of her heartstrings.
***
“Papa, look at all the people. Do you think Miss Merriwether is here yet?” asked Lili, her high-pitched tone a sudden annoyance to Ben’s weary ears. She’d gabbed all the way into town about October Fest while he’d bounced a fussy Molly on his knee. What is more, now that they’d arrived, she expected him to know the teacher’s whereabouts, which was funny indeed, since Liza had made a great effort all week to avoid him.
Ever since her hurried departure last Friday night, he’d seen nothing but glimpses of her out his window or on the way to his barn. He’d even tried to visit her at her cabin, but she’d refused to open the door, saying it wasn’t proper—never mind that she’d visited him twice now.
“Look, there’s Mr. Callahan.” Lili’s announcement drew him out of his secret musing.
“Well, I’ll be,” Ben muttered, surprised and pleased to see Rocky. Rocky looked up and waved a sturdy arm, his face solemn but friendly.
“Ben, hello,” he called. “Came into town for some feed and a few supplies. I forgot about the festivities. Busy place around here.”
“It is. Why don’t you join my family later for some lunch? I packed plenty.”
“We’ll see. I have a cow that needs rescuing from a sink pit. ’Spect she’ll be there awhile unless I lend her a hand.”
“Need some help?”
“I’ll manage, but thanks for the offer. I think between my horse and me, we can pull her out.”
Ben studied the fellow’s face and thought he detected unspoken concern hidden somewhere in its depths. “How have you been?”
“Guess I can’t complain. It’s my ailing sister that has me worried.”
“Elizabeth?” Ben remembered Rocky’s older sister only vaguely, her marrying and leaving the area before Rocky reached his teen years.
“Yeah. She’s bad off. Doctors don’t expect her to live through the winter.”
God, not more sadness. How much could one man handle in a lifetime?
“I’m sorry to hear that, my friend.” Helpless to say more, Ben just steadied his team of horses and waited to see if Rocky would elaborate.
“She wants me to take her kids—after—you know...”
“You’re joking.” Ben couldn’t imagine how Rocky would manage. “What about the kids’ father?”
“He left them high and dry nearly five years ago, right after Seth was born. The girl, Rachel, was only a couple years old at the time. Then he up and died from a head injury two years ago. Got kicked by an angry steer. He never cared a whit about his own flesh and blood, though, so it was mighty hard feelin’ sorry for the guy when I heard the news.”
A sudden chill ran the length of Ben’s backbone. “What about your parents? Can they help with the kids?”
Rocky shook his head and briefly glanced at his shoe. “Ma would like nothing more than to bring the kids into her own house, but she admits she and Pa are getting too old. To tell you the truth, my pa’s not well. I think this thing with Elizabeth has taken its toll on him.”
“Rock…I don’t know what to say other than God has the answers. He’s there for you.”
“Yeah, well…I best get a move on,” he answered, noticeably eager to avoid any further discussion, particularly anything pertaining to God.
Frankly, Ben couldn’t blame him. The guy had a lot on his plate. Probably the last thing he wanted to do was rehash his troubles—or hear about how much God loves him despite it all.
Lord, go with him, Ben silently prayed, watching as the tall, muscular figure sauntered down the sidewalk and into Eldred Johansson’s Mercantile.
***
Fortunately for the town of Hickman, Mother Nature provided glorious weather for the fall celebration. Liza shifted on the porch swing that she and Emma Browning shared.
“Thank you for inviting me to sit,” said Liza, bending her
head back to allow the warm breezes to tickle her throat.
“Well, thank you for accepting the invitation,” Emma said. “I was hoping for some company. Seemed a shame to let this comfortable swing go to waste.”
Liza smiled. “I agree. I’m sure with summer’s end you’re wishing now you’d spent more time on your porch.”
Emma nodded knowingly. “Summers do have a way of speeding right on by, don’t they? Before you know it the snowflakes will be flying.”
“Oh, I hope not. I dislike the cold weather.”
“We don’t get a lot of snow here, but once every decade or so we’ve been known to get a blizzard. We’re about due, I’d say. Winds can be bitter coming down from those hills,” Emma said, glancing out over the rise and fall of the countryside.
The two sat in comfortable silence, both using their feet to keep the swing moving.
Liza glanced through Emma’s door. “Seems awfully quiet around here. Where are all your boarders?”
“I ’spect most are boozing it up at Guttersnipe’s about now. They’ll look for any excuse to drink and call it a celebration. Tonight should be interesting. They’ll make a racket after midnight looking for their rooms.”
A young couple Liza didn’t recognize waved at Emma. She returned the gesture.
“How will you sleep?” Liza asked.
Emma batted a slender wrist. “Oh, gracious, I’m used to it by now. Been doin’ this business for nigh onto ten years. If the fool ruffians have nothin’ better to do with their lives than throw ’em away on booze, then I have no sympathy.”
“But that’s so sad. Don’t any of these men have families?”
“Most are drifters. They might’ve had families at one time, but they’ve lost track of them, or they’re purposely running away. I don’t ask questions. Long as they pay their rent, they’re safe with me.”
Liza nodded and looked out over her surroundings. Here and there, children scampered about between their parents’ protective gazes, excited about the day’s activities, asking for candy or an ice cream cone from one of the many booths set up on Main Street. Merchants and townsfolk displayed their wares, anything from homemade soaps, candles, and liniment, to handcrafted quilts, kitchen towels, and homegrown produce and baked goods.
