by Unknown
“Ben, what are you doing up here?”
“Come to lend a hand. Where’s Clement?”
The sheriff ran a gloved hand over his scruffy face. “Disappeared.”
“What do you mean disappeared?”
Will Murdock reined in his horse on a piece of flat terrain. Ben followed suit. “Angus said he ran off a couple of days ago. I made a thorough search of the property, Ben, the barns, sheds, and every room of the house. The room that the boy slept in is missing all of his clothes and personal belongings, along with several blankets.
“Angus said Clement took off with most of the food supply and his best horse. I don’t need to tell you the old guy seemed more put out with that than anything else. ’Course that might be due to the black eye Angus was sporting. Figured on the inside the old fella was saying good riddance. Yep, my guess is the boy’s skipped town for good.”
One side of Ben felt relieved that he wouldn’t have to kill the punk tonight, but another went through untold anguish at the thought of him roaming the hills.
“So that’s it, then?”
“Not exactly. I’m putting together a posse first thing in the morning. We’ll scour the hills and surrounding farms, but my guess is the kid’s hightailed it out of here by now. Even Clement Bartel isn’t stupid enough to wait around for us to catch him. He’ll know after what he did to the town’s beloved schoolteacher that everyone will be on the lookout for him.”
Ben wanted to believe that was true, that they had seen the last of the villainous delinquent, but something told him it couldn’t be that easy.
“What time are you heading out in the morning?”
“First light of day,” Will answered.
“Count me in,” Ben said, turning Tanner toward home.
“I figured as much. See you in the morning,” Will answered.
***
“Ouch, that hurts,” said Liza, jerking backward when Doc Randolph touched a tender spot under her eye.
“I’m sorry,” he answered. “Just making sure that your jawbone isn’t cracked. I’m fairly certain it’s not, but it’s mighty hard to tell with all that swelling. In truth, you look a bit worse today than you did yesterday.” He sat back on the bed and tipped his balding head at her, as if studying her from a different angle might result in some change.
“Would you hand me a mirror?” Liza asked, sliding up on the pillow Emma had provided.
“You don’t need a mirror, Liza,” Emma cut in. “You look just fine.”
“I would like to be the judge of that,” Liza said. “Hand me a mirror—please.”
Emma’s eyes went to the doctor. Finally, Doc nodded. “Something tells me she’ll get her hands on a mirror whether we give her one or not. Do you want her prowling around your house all hours of the night, Miss Browning?”
“Oh, all right.” Emma yanked a mirror from the top drawer of the little dressing table behind her. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“But you said I looked just fine,” Liza reminded, taking the mirror and placing it facedown on her lap, too nervous to look just yet.
“I lied,” Emma said, biting her lip.
When Liza tried to smile, it turned into a wince, even the simple act of smiling too painful a task.
She lifted the mirror after a hurried breath for courage and gasped outright. One eye stared back at her; the other one was fastened shut, its surrounding tissues black and blue and swollen beyond recognition. A large gash, stitched to perfection, filled her with a sharp reminder of yesterday’s attack.
“I don’t foresee any scarring,” Doc said when he realized she was studying the tear where he’d had to stitch. “I’ll re-bandage that now if you’ll allow me, Miss Merriwether.”
“Call me Liza, please,” she told the doctor.
“Fine. Have you seen enough, or would you like to keep the mirror handy, Liza?” The glint in his eye told her he enjoyed teasing.
She handed off the mirror to a nervous Emma. “Thank you.”
Emma pushed the mirror back in the top drawer. As soon as she turned around, Jon Atkins presented himself in the doorway.
“Jon,” Liza said, peeking around Doc while he set the new bandage in place. Once done, he stepped back, making way for her visitor. “Come in.” Because of the swelling, she found she had to talk through her teeth.
Jon stepped inside the small room, and as soon as he did, Emma took flight. Jon watched her go and shook his head. “She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“I’ve never had a woman hate me before. I don’t know how to handle it.”
A giggle bubbled up, but she had to force a frown. “Don’t make me laugh, Jon Atkins. It hurts.”
Doc Randolph zipped his bag up after having stuffed it full of his stethoscope, a bottle of laudanum, and the bandaging materials. “I’ll be on my way now, miss. I’ll stop in tomorrow. After that, I would think you’d be well enough to head back to your own place.”
“And my teaching job?”
“I would suggest you take off the remainder of this week. You don’t want to take any chances on bumping that cheek or eye area. It could create some internal bleeding.” When Liza opened her mouth to protest, he continued, “From what I hear, Bess Barrington is having the time of her life. And I’m sure Thomas and Erlene are proud of the fact that their mother is acting as their temporary teacher.”
The sly man, Liza thought. He did know how to quell a protest, that was for sure.
Jon pulled up a chair as soon as Doc Randolph said good-bye.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked, taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. She recognized the innocent act for what it was—a show of friendship.
Liza turned up her mouth at the corners to generate a faint smile. “That’s as far as I can go,” she said through her teeth while pointing to her pathetic attempt at a smile.
Jon chuckled. “I’ll accept it as the full-blown thing. Now, tell me how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine. Is Clement in jail yet?”
Jon stiffened and gave her hand a little extra squeeze. “Not exactly, but I don’t think he’ll be bothering you anymore.”
Liza frowned. “What do you mean? Where is he?”
“That’s the problem, Liza. No one seems to know. But it’s a sure thing he’s nowhere around these parts. There’s been a posse out scanning the entire area since daybreak. I rode with them a few hours myself, and I daresay not a rock was left unturned. Will organized a good search, Liza, breaking up the lot of us into smaller groups and scattering us every which direction for miles around. Last I heard everyone’s returned empty-handed.”
Instant dread gripped her on all sides, closing in on her until normal breathing seemed a chore. He’s still out there. Oh, God… Drops of sweat popped out all over her skin, making her lightweight cotton garment feel like prickly wool.
“Liza, take it easy,” Jon soothed, running a comforting hand up her arm. “Take some deep breaths.”
She tried but found it took surprising effort. Tears fell like rain from the corners of both eyes, stinging the wounded one in particular. Jon yanked a kerchief from his hip pocket and clumsily dabbed at her tears.
“Will said even Clement isn’t stupid enough to hang around town,” he offered in a soothing voice. “The kid knows he’s cooked if anyone catches him. It’s a sure bet he’s far away from here, and you’ll never have to lay eyes on him again, Liza.”
“What’s going on?” Ben’s voice snapped her out of her panicky state.
“Ben.” Relief flooded her at the sight of him, his larger-than-life body seeming to fill up the doorway. She lifted her hand to him, then dropped it when all he did was step the rest of the way through the door and come to a stop at the foot of her bed. Suddenly she ached to have him hold her hand as Jon was doing, whisper comforting words. She’d dreamed that he had done just that yesterday, calmed her with his mellow voice, told her she wasn’t alone. Couldn’t he
suggest to Jon that he give up his chair?
“Is she all right?” Ben asked, directing the question at Jon as if she wasn’t even in the room, or worse, too dim-witted to answer on her own.
“She’s fine. Just a little shook up with the notion that Bartel’s still on the loose.”
Ben’s face went from worried to annoyed in the span of a second. He looked as if he wanted to come nearer, but something held him at bay. Surely, Mrs. Winthrop hadn’t approached him as she had Liza about the matter of his “unseemly behavior” with regard to the teacher’s sense of propriety. It would be mortifying if she had.
“Liza, I want you to stop worrying over Bartel’s freedom. If I wasn’t convinced before, I am certain now that Clement has skipped town completely.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. And to remain on the safe side, the posse will scour the area again tomorrow. There isn’t a man in town who wants that young felon roaming these hills.”
Somehow, the reassurances meant more coming from Ben than Jon, although she couldn’t say exactly why.
She breathed a sigh and nodded.
“Feel better?” Ben asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Now I best get home to my girls. Mrs. Bergen up the road watched over Molly today so that Emma could tend to you.”
“I heard that,” Liza said. Do you have to leave so soon? But to ask the question would be selfish on her part. For now, it was enough that Jon seemed willing to keep her company.
“I’ll be on my way. I merely wanted to check on you.”
Merely? The word itself denoted lack of interest.
“Take good care of her, Jon.”
Jon’s face, although normally jovial, drew into a slight frown at Ben’s parting words. “I’ll do my best,” he said. Then to Liza, “Hm, that was an interesting visit.”
***
“Are you sure Miss Merriwether is okay, Papa?” Lili asked for at least the tenth time that evening. She’d been sitting at the table studying her spelling list, and he’d noted she’d had just as much trouble concentrating tonight as he had.
Ben closed the book he’d been trying to read, thankful when Lili’s question forced him to give it up. His mind had taken him in a million different directions, and this book on American history was not one of them.
“Yes, she’s fine.” Actually, she was far from fine, but he decided to hold off on the gruesome details of Liza’s appearance. Her face looked worse today than it had yesterday.
“Can I go visit her after school tomorrow? I want to tell her how much everyone misses her. Mrs. Barrington is nice, but she ain’t no Miss Merriwether.”
Ben laughed outright. “Lili, you know better than to say ain’t.”
“I know. It’s a slang word and highly improper. Miss Merriwether taught us that.”
Ben studied the crackling fire just feet away. “Doc Randolph said she can probably come home tomorrow, but I expect she won’t be up for your visit just yet. Maybe the next day. We’ll have to see how she’s doing by then.”
“If I wrote her a note, would you deliver it to her?”
Molly toddled past, and Ben reached down a hand to pat her downy head. She gave him one of her cheery smiles, sputtered something in baby lingo, and kept on walking.
“I suppose I could do that,” he said, already leery of the idea, especially in view of the way Jon had latched onto her, sitting at her bedside, holding her hand, wiping her tearstained cheeks with his handkerchief, speaking in low, comforting tones. Liza belonged to Jon, and the sooner Ben accepted that, the better off he’d be.
With a sigh, he placed both hands atop his knees and stood. “Come on now; it’s time for bed.”
***
It was lovely to walk into the warmth of her friendly cabin. Thankfully, Ben had banked a roaring fire for her earlier today, making her coming home that much pleasanter.
“Thank you so much for offering to bring me home today, Emma. You’re such a sweet friend. I’m afraid you’ve spoiled me rotten.”
“It was nothing. Are you okay?” Emma asked, helping Liza to a chair.
“I’m perfectly fine. You are like a mother hen. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Emma tossed her a blanket. “Oh, piddle,” she said, pulling up a straight-back chair from the nearby table and sitting while Liza dropped into the snuggly warmth of one of the chairs she’d ordered through the Sears and Roebuck Catalog.
Her back still suffered strain from when Clement had thrust her up against the wall, but she’d managed to hide it from the others, even Doc Randolph. She figured her facial injuries were bad enough without adding fuel to the fire by mentioning her twisted back muscles.
“You would make a fine mother,” Liza said, still striving to find a comfortable position. “You’ve certainly had plenty of practice with Molly.”
Emma blushed crimson. “I don’t have a mind to marry—ever, so babies are out of the picture for me.”
“So you say,” Liza said, getting no further response on the matter even though she gave Emma plenty of time.
“Can I get you something to drink before I head back to town?”
“Oh, do you have to leave so soon?” Liza glanced out her curtained window in time to see Ben walk from house to barn. She noted how his gaze seemed to travel in the direction of her cabin. Her heart took a leap and might have landed on her sleeve had she not reined it in.
“I have a hungry crew of scalawags waiting for their supper,” Emma said.
“They were so kind to me,” Liza said, directing her eyes away from the barn and the big English farmer.
Emma’s face lit with a smile. “I never saw such a bunch of softies as when you came in on Tuesday night. I don’t think a one of them slept through the night. Every so often I’d hear a creak on the stairs and knew that someone was comin’ down to check on you.”
Liza put a hand to her heart. “That’s so sweet. They’ve shown that they’re capable of having a softer side. God put that there, you know, that softer side. It’s in us all, but we have to open our hearts to His Son Jesus in order to experience it completely.”
Emma shifted in her seat and harrumphed. “Don’t think they’ll stay that way. Now that you’re gone, they’ll be up to their old tricks again, drinkin’ and carousin’.”
Liza felt the invisible wall come down at the mere mention of God and couldn’t help but wonder what hurts her friend had suffered that would so close her up to the possibilities of inviting Jesus Christ into her life. Better to let it rest for now, Liza thought. One day soon, she will see the truth of God’s love.
Emma rose to her feet and moved to the kitchen. “Looks like Benjamin filled your bucket with fresh drinking water.”
Liza’s heart tipped precariously at the mention of his name. “That was kind of him.”
“I think he’s sweet on you,” Emma said. “Matter of fact, I know he is.”
“Oh, Emma, don’t say such things.”
“Why?” Emma filled a tin cup with the clear liquid and brought it to Liza.
Liza swallowed deep and relished in the thought that Ben had filled her water bucket. “Because I’m the schoolteacher. I’m not allowed to display any outward feelings toward a man, or vice versa.”
“I should be the schoolteacher,” Emma submitted. “Then folks would never question my wish to remain single.”
Giggles rose up. “Don’t be so sure. You are a beautiful woman. Some man would still chase you down.”
She gave a laugh herself and carefree flip of the wrist, then moved to the door. “Well, all I know is what I see. And I saw plenty of doting from that man when you were at your worst.”
“What do you mean?”
“You slept through most of it, but he was right there next to you, holding your hand, well, until Mr. Atkins and I arrived. Then he moved aside for him.”
“Oh. Jon is a good friend, nothing more.”
“No need to explain that to me.”
***
Well, at least she was safe and sound at home, Ben mused, glancing out the barn window at her darkened cabin as he finished the milking and the gathering of a few more eggs. He’d wondered how she’d done on her first night back home, but he’d guessed she’d fared quite well considering all the guests she’d received.
Every time Ben had glanced out his window, another rig had pulled up. First, there were the Bergens bearing baskets of food, far more than Liza could consume in her lifetime. Next, the Barringtons, Elmer and Bess. It looked like Bess carried an armful of flowers. Probably picked them up at Johansson’s Mercantile. Every so often Eldred happened upon a peddler who’d received a shipment from some Southern growers.
Flowers. Why hadn’t he thought of that? All he’d done was build a roaring fire and fill her water bucket. She’d have appreciated flowers more.
An hour or so later, he’d spotted the Jameses, and after that, Ralph and Mary Thompson, each bearing a gift.
He could only imagine how exhausted Liza had been at the end of the day. In fact, he’d had half a mind to put out a “No Visitors” sign at the base of Shannon’s Peak and wished he had when he’d seen Jon Atkins come riding alongside Mr. and Mrs. Humphrey. And wouldn’t you know it, that threesome had stayed the longest of all.
Of course, Jon would recognize the propriety issue for what it was. Although he’d seen Liza to her door before, there’d be no point to visiting her alone now while she was so much in the public eye.
“Papa, can you deliver this letter to Miss Merriwether for me?” Lili asked, giving him a start when she appeared in the barn doorway.
“You’re up early,” Ben said, walking over to drop a light kiss on the top of her braided head. She was becoming quite adept at braiding, a skill he’d never quite mastered.
“I had to finish my letter.”
“Ah.” Ben set the milk bucket down and looked at his daughter. “Well, since she had so many visitors yesterday, perhaps you can deliver it yourself—after school, I mean.”
“Yippee!” At that, she turned and made a dash for the house, the letter flying through the air at the end of her arm.
After transporting Lili to the schoolhouse and Molly to Emma’s, Ben decided to make a stop at the post office. He received so little mail that weekly stops were usually sufficient.
