WOMEN OF SURPRISE 02: Lydia's Passion

by Tracey J. Lyons

  Nodding her head excitedly, Laura said, "He fell asleep right here in our mountains. Did you know that, Papa? Have you ever seen him?"

  "I may have heard a story or two about old Rip, but I've never run across the man." Turning his attention to the teacher, he asked with a wink, "What about you, ma'am, have you ever met the man?"

  "Surely I have not. I daresay it would be difficult to find him, considering how it is rumored that he traveled from town to town never staying in one place for very long."

  "Yes, well then, it makes sense that no one has ever met the man." Setting Laura down on the ground, he watched as she and Daisy ran off handin-hand to play on the teeter-totter.

  Following the direction of his gaze, Lydia said, "Laura has certainly come out of her shell."

  "Yes, she has and I owe that all to you, Miss Monroe."

  Her lips twitched as she turned her green-eyed gaze to look at him. "Thank you for the compliment. Although I think being around other children had more to do with her change."

  "Maybe."

  "So what brings you here on such a fine afternoon?" Shielding her eyes from the noonday sun, she scanned the area, checking on all of the children.

  "I know what you're thinking."

  Not taking her eyes off her charges, she inquired, "And what might that be?"

  "That I'm here to check up on you."

  Dropping her hand to her side, she gave him her full attention. "Are you?"

  "No, I'm not." And that, he realized, was the God's honest truth. For the most part, everyone in town was pleased with her performance. There was still the issue of her unorthodox teaching methods, but he wasn't here to discuss those with her.

  Continuing to study him with those green eyes, she made him uneasy. Getting right to the point would probably be the best thing for him to do right now.

  "Actually, I came to ask a favor."

  "Really?" She smiled up at him.

  "Yes, really. Mrs. Sutherland is under the weather and I've had to send Cole out of town on an errand that won't bring him back until after supper time." Suddenly he felt nervous. What made him think she would help him? After all he hadn't been very cordial to her when she'd first arrived.

  "I don't see what this has to do with me."

  "I need someone to watch my children." He hadn't meant to blurt it out in such a manner, but the woman was making him downright nervous with her penetrating stare.

  "And you think that I might know of someone to fill in until she gets better?"

  "I was hoping you could walk Robert and Laura home this afternoon and stay with them until I can leave work."

  With her eyebrows raised in surprise, Lydia continued to stare at him, only this time her smile widened into a grin. "I must admit, Mr. Judson, I'm quite flattered that you consider me competent enough to take care of your children."

  Her comment ruffled his feathers. "Of course you're competent."

  Anger flashed in her eyes causing him to quickly amend his statement. "I was hoping it wouldn't be too much trouble. Laura and Robert like you. I could have them come join me at work, but I don't like to have them around the saws when they are running."

  Sensing her lingering doubt, he added with what he hoped was a warm smile, "I'll be home at six o'clock sharp."

  "That will be fine, Mr. Judson. We shall see you at dinner time."

  With that she walked off and left him standing still holding his hat in hand, while she rang the bell at the top of the steps, signaling the end of lunchtime.

  By the time she rang the school bell again, Lydia had to admit to feeling a tad nervous about agreeing to help Mr. Judson. Before their last lesson, she'd told Robert and Laura that she would be taking them home. The children had been delighted with the news.

  Lydia, on the other hand, was beginning to realize just how needy the Judson children were. Gathering up the papers she'd be correcting this evening, she went to find them.

  "Robert, Laura!" She called out to them, waiting at the edge of the yard while they caught up with her.

  "Miss Lydia, I'm glad you're taking us home today."

  "Why thank you, Laura." The little girl tucked her hand inside of Lydia's.

  "You aren't going to make us do any homework are you?" Robert asked, scuffing his feet in the dirt. It was clear that he wasn't too pleased about his teacher taking him home.

  "Now how often have I sent you home with extra work?"

  "Just that one time, Miss Lydia."

  "That's right, and it was only because you needed to practice your letters."

  Satisfied that he wasn't going to be spending the rest of the day doing homework, he skipped on ahead of Lydia and Laura. By the time they reached the house, Robert had already changed out of his school clothes.

  Eager to please, he stood on the porch with a small tin bucket in his hands. "I'm going to collect the eggs."

  "It's my turn to get the eggs!" Releasing her hold on Lydia's hand, she ran off after her brother.

  Unsure of the trouble they could get into in the small barn, Lydia hastily followed. It didn't take long for the flock of a dozen or so chickens to realize they had company. The red hens gathered around their feet, pecking along the dirt and even at the tips of Lydia's shoes.

  Shooing them away, she entered the low-ceiled shed where the chickens were housed. Robert was reaching into one of four layer boxes and Laura was rushing ahead of him trying to beat him to the next one when the pail came crashing to the ground.

  Yellow yolks oozed out of the cracked brown shells coating the ground in a thin slimy film.

  "Look what you did, Laura!" Robert shouted at his sister in disgust.

  "It was an accident. I ... didn't mean ... to do it," she managed to hiccup the words as big fat tears rolled down her chubby cheeks.

  Never having been left alone with children of any age, with the exception of her students, Lydia was at a loss as to how she should go about handling this situation. The eggs were clearly ruined and she fervently hoped they didn't need them for supper.

  Laura's cries soon turned to wails and Robert decided to assert his authority as the oldest by standing over her with hands fisted on his hips. "Pa isn't going to be happy about this mess."

  "He won't care ..."

  Even though the words were spoken defiantly, Lydia could see the fear making its way into the little girl's eyes.

  "All right now, let's just clean up this mess and then you can show me your home." No sooner had the words come out then the flock of chickens, sensing a meal, came running into the shed scratching and pecking at the broken eggs like it was their last meal.

  The unexpected sight of this made Lydia erupt in laughter. Soon Robert and Laura were giggling at the birds' antics, too.

  "I guess we don't have to worry about the mess after all, do we?"

  "No, Miss Lydia. The hens like to eat the broken eggs. They like to eat everything. You should see them go after our dinner scrapings."

  Leading them back to the house, she said, "I expect it is a sight to behold."

  "Maybe tonight you can stay for supper and then you can see for yourself how they are."

  The comment gave Lydia pause. There hadn't been any invitation to dinner extended by their father; which reminded her that she'd no idea how to prepare a meal. Anna always cooked up at Aunt Margaret's house, and back home her mother had a girl who came by during the day to clean and cook.

  Hopefully she wouldn't have to worry about cooking, for surely Mr. Judson would be home long before the children needed to be fed.

  These dire thoughts were interrupted by Laura. "Come inside, Miss Lydia."

  Lydia took in the humble household as she stepped across the threshold. The entry gave way to a large keeping room where the kitchen and dining area were combined. Through a large doorway she could see a small parlor.

  Taking hold of her hand, Laura guided her through the house. Pointing out a large overstuffed chair angled towards the fireplace, she said, "This is where
Papa reads us stories."

  Down a short hallway were two doors, one on the left and one on the right. Tugging her along, Laura pushed open the door on the right side. "This is Robert's and my room."

  Two single beds lined either side of the wall, a small window separating them. Robert's bed was covered in a blue and white patchwork quilt, while his sister's bore a matching design in pink. There was a small four drawer built-in dresser. The walls were white-washed and the planked flooring had a blue and white rag rug covering a portion of it.

  Stuffed bears and dolls lined the shelf along one wall. All in all, Lydia thought it was a nice room for the children. Before she could stop her, Laura was pulling her in to the opposite room. The starkness was shocking.

  There weren't any colorful quilts in here instead the double bed looked barely slept in. As if reading her thoughts, Robert explained. "Papa falls asleep in the big chair."

  Assuming he meant the one she'd be shown earlier, Lydia wondered that Alexander Judson was always in such a sour mood. Looking about the rest of this bedroom she saw plain unadorned walls. Her gaze fixed on a small night stand with a kerosene lantern and a picture frame. Daring to step closer she studied the portrait.

  It was of a woman. She had Laura's blue eyes and Robert's smile. Alexander's wife; their mother. Knowing what she knew now; the fact that the man couldn't bear to sleep in this room was a testament to how much he'd loved this woman.

  The thought gave her pause. In all her harmless flirtations over the past few years Lydia had never felt anything close to what this man so clearly felt for his wife. She couldn't help wondering what his feelings were now.

  "Miss Lydia, I'm hungry." Robert's plaintive cry drew her back to the reason she was here; to take care of these children.

  Going back to the kitchen, Lydia found a jar of oatmeal cookies. Unscrewing the lid, she took out one for each of them and then poured the fresh milk from the pitcher that Robert handed her into three glasses.

  "Mrs. Sutherland always leaves us a treat," he explained.

  Lydia suspected no matter how kindly Mrs. Sutherland was, she was no substitute for a mother.

  "I hope she feels better soon," he said between bites.

  "I think she'll be on the mend before you know it," Lydia assured him.

  "Can we play outside?" Laura gulped down her last bit of milk and put the empty glass on the table.

  Nodding, Lydia finished the snack and then gathering up the papers she'd brought with her, followed them outside. She sat in the slat-back rocker on the porch and began to rock gently. Before long the sounds of laughter and clucking chickens had her feeling quite content.

  Seeing that the children were safe, playing on a swing hanging from a tree nearby, Lydia turned her attention to correcting the papers. It seemed as if she'd just started when they were at her feet asking when dinner would be ready.

  "We just ate!" she chided softly.

  "Mrs. Sutherland always cooks for us at this time."

  Lydia had to bite her lip to keep from saying that she wasn't Mrs. Sutherland. She left them to play while she wandered slowly into the kitchen. What on earth could she possibly find to feed them?

  Of course she could always give them another cookie to hold them over until their father came home. Or she could take the easy way out and bring them to Aunt Margaret's where Anna was sure to have enough for two extra mouths.

  Just as she was thinking the latter idea would be best solution, she found a cloth-covered serving dish. Dear, sweet Mrs. Sutherland-even though she was sick the woman had managed to see to the evening meal.

  Next to the chicken casserole sat a loaf of freshly baked bread. Lydia quickly busied herself setting the table. Unsure when Alexander would be home, she held his place setting off to one side. When the table was set for two and the casserole warmed, she sliced up some bread and called the children in to wash up.

  By the time they were seated at the table the clock on the mantle was chiming six times. Anxiously, Lydia served up the dinner and then walking to the window pulled back the curtains, peering out into the dusk.

  "Papa should be along at any minute," Laura reassured her.

  The only thing Lydia saw were the glow of kerosene lamps in the windows of two houses off in the distance. No sign of Mr. Judson. Trying to keep her temper in check, she wondered at the audacity of the man. Clearly his children came second to his job.

  Dropping the curtain back into place, she pasted a smile on her face and wandered back to the table where Robert and Laura were finishing their meal.

  "It looks to me like Mrs. Sutherland is a good cook." Pulling out one of the two remaining chairs, she was about to sit when Robert said, "That's ma's place."

  "She can sit there," Laura said softly. "Papa won't mind."

  Uncertainty flooded through her. It saddened her to think that they were still mourning the loss of their mother after all these months. Lydia had never been in a situation like this before and she didn't know what to do.

  Finally, after several moments of silence, she said, "I'll just sit in your papa's place, if that's all right?"

  Sitting down, she thought about this family. How could Robert and Laura be expected to move on? Their father obviously didn't sleep in the bed he'd shared with his wife and kept an empty place at the table for her.

  A youngster learned by example, and as far as Lydia could tell Mr. Judson was setting a pretty poor one. Clearly he'd loved his wife very much, but she was gone and in her mind it was beyond time for him to start enjoying life again.

  "We're finished. May we be excused, Miss Lydia?"

  Looking at Robert, she realized she'd stopped paying attention to them. "That would be fine. Can you get yourselves ready for bed?"

  "It's hardly dark yet," he complained.

  A bit of bribery wasn't beneath her. "If you get into your nightclothes then I can read you a story."

  As they clambered off to their room, Lydia cleared the table. If Alexander didn't return within the next hour she would wash the dishes and leave him with a clean kitchen. Although not very domestic, she felt certain that she could handle this one small task. She'd gotten the dinner on the table without much fuss, hadn't she?

  "We're ready!"

  Turning at the sound of Laura's voice, she wiped her hands on a towel and crossed the room to the big overstuffed chair. It crossed her mind that this was the same one Mr. Judson slept in.

  She sat down, making a space for Laura on her lap. The first thing that struck her was the scent of the cushions. It smelled of pine soap-masculine, like Alexander. A warm shiver raced down her spine, the reaction surprising her. Deliberately ignoring the feeling, she opened the pages of the storybook and began to read.

  By the time the last page was turned, both children were stifling yawns. The clock on the mantle struck eight times. Where was he?

  Ushering the children down the hallway, she heard Laura say to her brother, "Papa is busy again."

  Did this mean that Mrs. Sutherland was the one who tucked them in at night? Was she the person who fed them their supper and read them their bedtime story? Lydia's heart ached for them.

  "Come on, hop into bed and I'll listen to your nighttime prayers." Lydia sat on the edge of Laura's bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

  "God Bless Papa, and Mrs. Sutherland. And keep Mama safe. Oh and I almost forgot, thank you for sending Miss Lydia for our teacher."

  Lydia thought her heart might burst. Precious words from a precious darling little girl. Leaning down, she kissed Laura's forehead. "I'll see you in school bright and early."

  "You don't need to tuck me in. And I already said my prayers to myself." Robert gripped the edges of his blanket with a look of fear on his face.

  Realizing that he was afraid she was going to kiss him, and that he would never live it down if his friends found out, Lydia said a quick good night and left the room.

  She had just started to worry about Alexander's lateness again when she hea
rd the sound of light footsteps on the porch. She rushed to the door, threw it open, and demanded, "Where have you been?"

  He laughed, a clear rich sound that infuriated her. "I don't see what's so funny, Mr. Judson."

  Brushing past her, he entered his home. Taking off his jacket he hung it on the hook behind the door.

  "Miss Monroe, it's been a very long time since anyone has met me at my front door." Giving a shrug, he added, "You took me by surprise is all."

  Tapping her foot and folding her arms in front of her, she said, "You are late."

  Walking to the kitchen, he lifted the lid on the casserole. "I'm sorry. Cole got back much later than I'd expected." Bringing the dish to the table he asked, "Did you eat?"

  She shook her head, realizing she was hungry.

  Taking a plate from the drying rack, he set a place for her at the opposite end of the table; across from him in that place that his wife had occupied.

  Lydia noticed the hesitation in Alexander, but didn't say a word. A soft sigh escaped him as he looked up, catching her staring at him.

  Smiling at Lydia, he said, "I'll serve up the chicken and you can slice the bread."

  The ease with which he ordered her about had her rooted to the spot.

  Pausing with the serving spoon in hand, he quirked an eyebrow at her. "Let me guess, you don't know how to slice bread?"

  Anger spurring her into action, Lydia strode to the table. Grabbing up the knife in one hand while squeezing the life out of the loaf with the other, she whacked off a crooked hunk of bread. Watching him in satisfaction, she did the same thing a second time. Only this time it was followed by a sharp, slicing pain through her index finger.

  Blood oozed from the cut, soaking through the bread. "Yuck." It was a word she'd heard her students use many a time and had scolded them for it. But now seemed as appropriate a time as any for her to be using it.