Loving Liza Jane (26 page)

“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.

“Miss Merriwether!” Liza turned in the direction of the greeting. Thomas and Erlene Barrington were approaching from the other side of the street. She waved at them. “Have you seen Lili?” Erlene asked in her usual shy manner when they reached the bottom of the porch steps. Erlene had gotten used to Lili looking after her on the playground.

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” she answered. Liza had been avoiding the Broughton family, Ben in particular, leaving this morning at dawn to do a few things in her classroom. She’d come to realize that even socializing with Benjamin Broughton put her on dangerous ground. In time, he would look into her eyes and recognize her feelings for him, and then where would she be? No, it was best to keep her distance from him altogether.

“Well, we’ll be on our way then,” Thomas said, taking his sister by the hand. “Have a nice day.”

“You as well,” Liza said, “Have fun.”

“Nice kids,” Emma stated as the two children headed back across the street.

More easy silence followed as both women watched the gathering crowds of townsfolk.

“I understand that Ben Broughton decided against sending for a bride,” Emma said, startling Liza with the pointed declaration. Emma’s eyes dropped to Liza’s face, as if searching for a reaction.

“Really?” Liza asked, pretending disinterest.

“He’s asked if I’ll continue watching Molly until he can decide what to do,” Emma said. “I told him I would. The extra money comes in mighty handy.”

“I’m sure you helped take a load off his shoulders with your generosity. Molly’s a dear, isn’t she?” Liza said, feeling wistful.

Emma nodded. “Easy as pie, too, but let’s admit it, Ben needs a wife and those little girls need a mama.”

“Why don’t you marry him?” Liza asked on a dare, sneaking a peak at Emma to see if there were any chance the woman carried feelings for him.

“Me? Ben and I are friends, but that’s as far as it goes. He’s always respected my privacy, and I ’preciate that about him. But I’d never marry him. Men are a bother. I ’spect even Benjamin would wear on my nerves after a while.” To this, she gave a little chortle. “The plain truth is, most men can’t be trusted.”

Liza detected a bitter edge to Emma’s words and wondered what had put it there. Was it her father who had made her life so unbearable? Worse, had he treated her cruelly, thereby putting a sour taste in her mouth for all men?

Liza had few words to offer, her own sheltered life certainly making her less than wise when it came to relating to Emma’s vindictive world. She did have God, though, and His promise of faithfulness. Hastening with a quick prayer for guidance, she challenged, “Have you ever considered what your heavenly Father can do for you?”

Emma turned a questioning look on Liza. “You mean God?”

She bit back a grin. “Yes, God.”

“Can’t say I have. God and me don’t seem to be a mix.”

“You shouldn’t be so quick to decide something like that. What if I told you He loves you more than you know and wants to be your friend?”

“Then I guess I’d have to say I’m not interested.” This time her tone went cold, approaching icy.

Liza looked off into the distance and listened to the delighted squeals of children, a barking dog, approaching horses’ hooves, and the whir of turning wagon wheels. Closer, she overheard neighbors conversing on the street, a whistling passerby, and the rasping chatter of a squirrel as he darted from one branch to another on a nearby elm.

“I meant no offense,” Emma hastened.

“Oh, none taken, believe me,” Liza replied. “It’s just that God has done so much for me, and I thought maybe you…”

“I prayed once when I was a little girl.”

“You did?” Liza’s ears perked up at that confession. “What happened?”

“I asked Him to make my father disappear.” She laughed at the absurdity of her own remark.

“Oh.” A sort of helplessness moved in. “I don’t mean to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong, but your father, well, I caught a glimpse of him once.”

“Yeah? I’m certain you don’t frequent Madam Guttersnipe’s vulgar establishment.”

Liza forced a nervous giggle. “Absolutely not!”

“Then when?”

“You were shooing him off your porch that first day I arrived in Hickman.” To Liza, it seemed like years ago and not mere months.

Emma squinted into the sun as if trying to recall the instance. Then light seemed to dawn. “Oh, that time. Yes, every so often the old coot tries to persuade me to open my doors. He has no idea that I will never welcome him, not inside my hotel, and certainly never again into my life. He’s done too much damage for me ever to forgive him.”

“I’m sorry,” Liza said, once more feeling at a loss.

“Don’t be. What’s done is done,” she said with a gentle flick of the wrist and a smile to cover up any trace of emotion.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” Jonathan Atkins’s pleasant voice broke into their quiet conversation.

“Jonathan. Or should I say, Reverend? How are you?” Liza greeted happily.

The sandy-haired fellow helped himself to the porch, then approached an empty wicker chair and plopped himself into it, as if it sat idly by, purposely waiting for him. His ready smile was enough to melt most any woman’s reserve, certainly Liza’s, even though he’d never had to work hard to charm her.

“Have a seat,” Emma said coldly and pointedly after the fact.

Nothing about her face looked welcoming, and for the life of her, Liza couldn’t figure out why. What had Jonathan ever done to her? Surely, she couldn’t find fault with him, a man of the cloth.

“Please, Reverend sounds too stuffy,” he replied, snatching a quick glance at Emma before allowing his eyes to rest on Liza. Stretching out his long, sturdy legs so that they took up the better share of the porch, he gave a relaxed sigh. “Ah, I must say, you ladies do add an extra ray of sunshine to an already beautiful day.”

Liza laughed at his forward behavior, having come to recognize him as one who never put on airs; instead, taking life as it came to him, enjoying and relishing in its offering, whether good or bad.

He could teach Emma a thing or two.

One glance at Emma, however, put a halt to that thought. The woman sat stiff and unmoved, obviously put out by the preacher’s sudden emergence.

Eager to right the situation, Liza attempted conversation. “I have enjoyed your sermons the last two weeks, Jon. They’ve been so challenging and inspiring.”

“Thank you, Liza. I had hoped for that. I’m afraid too many sermons these days serve only to satisfy the egos of the regular attendees rather than confront the issues. I hate to think of the church sinking into oblivion when we are surrounded by a world in need.”

“I agree,” she answered, casting a wary look at Emma and finding her unresponsive and clearly annoyed.

“Are you ladies planning to join in the festivities or simply watch them from afar?” Jon asked, his sandy hair blowing off his forehead, drawing attention to his finely chiseled face. Despite his rather long and lanky body, he exuded masculinity, easily dispelling all preconceived notions that men of the cloth couldn’t be handsome and fun loving.

“Oh, we are planning to enjoy it, right Emma?” Liza said, hoping her overdone cheery spirit wouldn’t give away her uneasiness at Emma’s sudden overcast mood.

Jon trained keen, heedful eyes on Emma, tipping his head to one side as he studied her. A hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. Liza thought he looked like someone who held the answer to some vague mystery. And maybe he did.

“Yes, of course,” Emma answered. Then, standing, she blurted, “Would anyone care for something to drink?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jon said, a touch of humor sneaking past his deep blue eyes. “I merely stopped by to say hello.” With that, he stood to his feet so that his eyes met up with Emma’s tart stare.

Hesitating at the door, Emma matched his gaze. “Well, all right then.”

Liza felt a chill run the length of her spine at Emma’s cheekiness. Did she have no respect—even for a minister of God’s Word?

Apparently not, for the next thing she did was escape into the house, allowing the door to slam behind her.

Hurrying to make amends, Liza stood as well. “Jon, I don’t know what got into her. I was speaking with her earlier about spiritual matters. Perhaps I…”

He touched a hand to her elbow and gently squeezed. “Don’t worry about it, Liza. Ben thinks she is a woman running scared, and I tend to agree with him.”

“Ben?” Confusion set in.

“Yes, and speak of the ugly fiend himself…” Jon looked up and waved his free arm toward the street, keeping the hand at her elbow firmly in place.

Liza looked up in time to catch Ben Broughton’s icy stare along with the tirelessly joyful reception of his eight-year-old daughter.

Ben swallowed down an invisible lump and fought to stay calm. What was Jon doing holding so possessively to Liza’s elbow, looking for all the world as if he’d already laid claim to her? Furthermore, what had they been discussing when he’d drawn the buggy to a halt in front of Emma’s place, their heads close, both serious and contemplative? Moreover, why was it not fitting or proper to be seen with him, Ben, but perfectly acceptable when it came to Jonathan Atkins? Jon may be a minister, but Ben knew him to be just as red-blooded as the next guy.

A kind of panic ran through his veins, the kind that created havoc in his gut and made him hot under the collar. Apparently, Liza had been serious when she said she intended to forget about the kiss they’d shared. From the look of things, she’d more than forgotten it.

“Hello, my friend,” Jon hollered, his smile more annoyed than pleased. “Are you butting in on my private time with this pretty lady again?” His good-natured tone made Ben’s teeth clench.

Molly stirred in Ben’s lap. He readjusted her, then handed her over to her older sister. “Just driving by,” he announced. He wasn’t about to admit he’d had his eye out for the schoolteacher ever since he’d arrived in town an hour ago. It hadn’t occurred to him that he would discover her at Emma’s place.