Читать книгу Sugar Plums for Dry Creek - Janet Tronstad - Страница 12

Lizette heard a sound and looked up to see a half-dozen men stomping down the steps of the hardware store and heading straight toward her new school. She wasn’t sure, but she thought every one of the men was frowning, especially the one who was at the back of the group. That man had to be forty years younger than the other men, but he looked the most annoyed of them all.

“The children are still just on the sidewalk,” Lizette said when the men were close enough to hear. While she hadn’t thought anyone would want children to go into a building alone, she certainly hadn’t expected there would be a problem with them standing on the sidewalk and looking at something inside. If the citizens of Dry Creek were that protective of their children, she’d never have any young students in her classes.

Lizette braced herself, but when the men reached her, they stood silent. Finally, one of them cleared his throat, “About this—ah—school—”

“The children will all have permission from their parents, of course,” Lizette rushed to assure them. “And parents can watch the classes any time they want. They can even attend if they want. I’d love to have some older students.”

The younger man, the one who had hung back on the walk over, moved closer to the open door. He seemed intent on the two children and did not stop until he stood beside them protectively. Lizette noticed that the young boy relaxed a little when the man stood beside him, and the girl reached out her hand to touch the man’s leg. She knew the man wasn’t the children’s father because she’d met that man already. Maybe he was their stepfather. That would explain why the father hadn’t known where the children lived.

“Well, about the students—” The older man cleared his throat and began again. “You see, there might be a problem with students.”

“No one has to audition or anything to be in the performances,” Lizette said. She wasn’t sure what was bothering the men, but she wanted them to know she was willing to work with the town. “And public performance is good for children, especially if it’s not competitive.”

“Anyone can be in the play,” the boy said softly.

The men had all stopped talking to listen to the boy, so they all heard the next words very clearly.

“I’m going to be a Sugar Plum Fairy,” the girl said, and pointed to the costume she’d been admiring.

Judd swallowed. Amanda never talked to anyone but Bobby, and then only in whispers. Who knew all it would take was a sparkly costume to make her want to talk?

“How much is the costume?” Judd asked the woman in the doorway. He didn’t care what figure she named—he’d buy it for Amanda.

“Oh, the costumes aren’t for sale,” the woman said. “I’ll need them for the performance, especially if I want to have something ready for Christmas. I won’t have time to make many more costumes.”

“About this performance—” The older man said, then cleared his throat.

Lizette wondered what was bothering the old man, but she didn’t have time to ask him because the younger man was scowling at her.

“So the only way Amanda can wear this costume is if she’s in your performance?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t say it was my performance.” Lizette felt her patience starting to grow thin. “All of the students will see it as their performance. We work together.”

“About the students—” The older man began again and cleared his throat for what must have been the fourth time.

“I’ll sign Amanda up,” the younger man said decisively. “If she signs up first, she should get her pick of the parts, shouldn’t she?”

“Well, I don’t see why she can’t be the Sugar Plum Fairy,” Lizette agreed. After all, Lizette herself would be choreographing the part for the children’s ballet, and could tailor it to Amanda’s skills. She’d just gotten her first student. “She’ll have to practice, of course. And we’ll have to have a few more students to do even a shortened version of the Nutcracker.”

The younger man squeezed the boy on his shoulder.

“I’ll sign up, too,” the boy offered reluctantly.

“There—I have two students!” Lizette announced triumphantly. “And I only just hung up my sign.”

The older man cleared his throat again, but this time he had nothing to say. All of the older men were looking a little stunned. Maybe they were as taken aback as she was by the fierce scowl the younger man was giving them.

“You might want to see a doctor about the cold you’re getting,” Lizette finally said to the man who had been trying to talk. “Usually when you have to clear your throat so often, it means a cold is coming on.”

The older man nodded silently.

“And you might ask him about taking up ballet while you’re there,” Lizette said. “Just to see if the exercise would be all right for you. Now that I have two students, I can begin classes, and you’d be more than welcome.”

Lizette decided the older man definitely had a cold coming on. He had just gone pale. He even looked a little dizzy.

“You’ll want to wait until you’re feeling better before you start though,” Lizette said to him. That seemed to make him feel better. At least his color returned.

“I’ll think about it,” he mumbled.

Lizette nodded. She knew she couldn’t manage for long on the income she’d get from two students, but just look how much people wanted to talk about her school. With all of that talk, she’d get more students before long.

Lizette smiled up at the younger man. He might scowl a lot, but she was grateful to him for her first two students. “Your wife must be happy you take such good care of the children.”

The young man looked down at her. “I don’t have a wife.”

Lizette faltered. “Oh, I just thought that because their father showed me their picture that—”

“You know the kids’ father, Neal Strong?”

If Lizette thought the men had been quiet before, they were even more silent now.

“No, I don’t know him. Some man just showed me their picture in Forsyth when he asked me to give him a ride out this way. He said they were his kids and he was trying to find them. He probably didn’t know the address or something.”

Judd felt Amanda move closer to his leg, and suddenly he had as great a need to be close to her as she had to be close to him, so he reached down and lifted her up even though he had his heavy farm coat on and it probably had grease on it from when he’d last worked on the tractor.

“Don’t worry,” Judd whispered into Amanda’s hair when she snuggled into his shoulder.

Judd reminded himself that the papers Barbara had shown him when she left the children with him included a court order forbidding the children’s father from being within one hundred yards of them.

Judd knew the court clerk well enough now that he could ask for a copy of the court order if he needed one. Of course, that would mean the clerk would guess that the children were with him. No, there had to be another way. Besides, he didn’t actually need a copy of the order for the court to enforce it.

“You’re sure it was him?” Judd turned to ask the woman. He didn’t know how the children’s father would even know where they were unless Barbara had told him.

“He had a picture and he said he was their father,” Lizette said. “He had a snake on his arm.”

Amanda went still in Judd’s arm. The kids had told him about the snake.

Judd nodded. He should have figured something like this would happen. He wondered if his cousin had gotten back with her husband, after all. Generally, Judd was a supporter of married folks staying together. But some of the things Bobby had let slip while he was at Judd’s place would make anyone advise Barbara to forget her husband.

The one thing Judd knew was that he didn’t want that man to come within shouting distance of the children.

“You have a lock on this place, I suppose,” Judd said as he looked inside the building the woman was going to use for her school. If he brought the kids to the lessons and then came back to pick them up, they should be safe.

“I could put a lock on,” one of the older men spoke up. “It’s no trouble. They have some heavy-duty ones over at the hardware store.”

“And it wouldn’t hurt Charley here to come over and sit while the kids have their lessons,” another older man offered. “He always complains that the chairs at the hardware store are too hard anyway. Now that he’s got his fancy phone, he can call the sheriff any time, night or day.”

Judd nodded. It felt good to have neighbors, even if he hadn’t been very neighborly himself. He wasn’t sure what he could do to repay them, but he intended to try. “I’ll be watching, too.”

“Is something wrong?” Lizette looked at the men’s faces.

“Their father isn’t fit to be near these kids—even the court says so,” Judd said quietly. He could see the alarm grow on Lizette’s face. “Not that you have to worry about it. We’ll take care of the guarding. You won’t even know we’re here. We can even sit outside.”

“In the snow?” Charley protested.

“Of course you can’t sit outside in the cold,” Lizette said. “I’ll put some chairs along the side of the practice area. And I’ll be careful about who else I accept as students. I’ll check references on any grown man who wants to join the class.”

Charley snorted. “Ain’t no grown man hereabouts that’ll sign up. Not if he wants to keep his boots—”

One of the other older men interrupted him. “I thought you was gonna sign up yourself, Charley. You can’t just sit and watch everyone else practice. That wouldn’t be right.”

“Why, I can’t do no ballet,” Charley said, and then looked around at the faces of his friends. “I got me that stiff knee, remember—from the time I was loading that heifer and it pinned me against the corral?”

“The exercises might even help you then,” Lizette said. “We do a lot of stretching and bending to warm up.”

If Judd hadn’t still been thinking about the children’s father, he would have laughed at Charley’s trapped expression. As it was, he was just glad Charley would be inside with the children. For himself, Judd thought, he’d set up a chair outside the door, so he could keep his eyes on who was driving into Dry Creek.

Judd didn’t trust the children’s father and was determined to keep the man as far away from Dry Creek as possible. First thing in the morning Judd decided he’d tell Sheriff Wall all about the court order.

Judd had only met the sheriff once, but he trusted the man. Sheriff Wall might not be one of those big-city sheriffs who solved complicated crimes, but he had the persistence and instincts of a guard dog. And the man knew every road coming near Dry Creek, even the ones that were just pasture trails. The kids would be safer with Sheriff Wall on the job.

“I can pay in advance for the lessons,” Judd announced. He didn’t like the sympathetic look the ballet woman was giving the kids now that Charley had accepted his fate. Judd didn’t want the woman to think they couldn’t pay their way, especially not when she’d have to give special attention to the security of her classroom.

“There’s no need to pay now,” the woman protested.

But Judd already had two twenty-dollar bills in his hand and he held them out to her. “Let me know if it costs more.”

“That should cover their first couple of lessons,” Lizette said as she took the money and turned to a desk in a corner of the large room. “Just let me get a receipt for you.”

Judd watched the woman walk over to the desk. He couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t just walk—she actually glided. He supposed that was what all of that ballet did for a body.

Judd tried not to gawk at the woman. The fact that she moved like poetry in motion was no excuse for staring at her.

Judd heard a soft collective sigh and turned to see all the old men watching the woman as if they’d never seen anyone like her before. Charley had obviously forgotten all about his reluctance to be in the class.

“There’s no need for a receipt,” Judd said.

The woman looked up from the desk. Even from across the room he could see she was relieved. “But you should have one anyway. Just as soon as I get all my desk things organized, I’ll see that you get one. I could mail it to you, if you leave me your address.”

“I’m at the Jenkins place south of town. Just write Jenkins on the envelope and leave it on the counter in the hardware store.”

It had taken Judd two weeks to figure out the mail system in town. The first part was simple. The mail carrier left all of the Dry Creek mail at the hardware store, and the ranchers picked it up when they came into town. The second part still had Judd confused. For some reason, if he wanted to get his mail sooner rather than later, he still had to have it addressed to the Jenkins place even though no one by the name of Jenkins had lived on the ranch for two years now.

When Judd finally bought the Jenkins place, he told himself he’d get the name changed. He’d asked the mail carrier about it, and the man had just looked at him blankly and said that’s what everyone called the place.

Judd vowed that once he had the children taken care of and the deed to the place signed, he’d take a one-page ad out in that Billings paper everyone around here read. He’d make sure people knew it wasn’t the Jenkins place anymore.

But, in the meantime, he didn’t want to have the woman’s envelope returned to her, so he’d go along with saying he lived at the Jenkins place.

The woman nodded. “I know about the hardware store. I’ve been meaning to post an announcement about the school so everyone will know that we’re currently taking students.”

“About the students—” one of the old men said and then cleared his throat. “You see, the students—well, we’re not sure how many students you’ll have.”

“Of course,” Lizette assured him. She knew she needed a few more students to do the ballet, but surely three or four more would come. “No one knows how many people will answer the flyer I put up. But I need to start the classes anyway if we’re going to perform the Nutcracker ballet before Christmas.”

Lizette figured the students who came later could do the parts that involved less practice.

“Christmas is only five weeks away,” Judd said and frowned. He knew when Christmas was coming because he figured his cousin would surely come for the children before Christmas.

Judd had gone ahead and ordered toys for the kids when he’d put in a catalog order last week, but he thought he’d be sending the presents along with them when their mother picked them up. Thanksgiving was next week, and it was likely the only holiday he’d have to worry about. He figured he could cope with a turkey if he could get Linda to give him some more basic instructions. She’d already told him about some cooking bag that practically guaranteed success with a turkey.

“I don’t suppose you have a real nutcracker in that ballet?” one of the older men asked hopefully. “I wouldn’t say no to some chopped walnuts—especially if they were on some maple doughnuts.”

“You know there’s no doughnuts, so there’s no point in going on about them,” Charley said firmly as he frowned at the man who had spoken. “There’s more to life than your stomach.”

“But you like doughnuts, too,” the older man protested. “You were hoping for some, too—just like me.”

“Maybe at first,” Charley admitted. “But I can’t be eating doughnuts if I’m going to learn this here ballet.”

Lizette smiled as she looked at the two men. “Well, I do generally make some sort of cookies or something for the students to eat after we practice. I guess I could make doughnuts one of these days.”

“You mean you can bake doughnuts?” Charley asked. “I didn’t know anyone around here could bake doughnuts.”

Lizette nodded. “I’ll need to get a large Dutch oven, but I have a fry basket I can use.”

“Hallelujah!” Charley beamed.

“And, of course, I’d need to have some spare time,” Lizette added.

“And she’s not likely to have any time to bake now that she’s starting classes,” Judd said, frowning. It would be harder to guard the kids if every stray man in the county was lined up at the ballet school eating doughnuts.

Judd told himself that it was only his concern for the safety of the kids that made him worry about who was likely to be visiting the ballet school. He’d been in Dry Creek long enough to know about all the cowboys on the outlying ranches.

A woman like Lizette Baker was bound to attract enough attention just being herself without adding doughnuts to the equation.

Not that, he reminded himself, it should matter to him how many men gawked at the ballet teacher. He certainly wasn’t going to cause any awkwardness by being overly friendly himself. He was just hoping to get to know her a little better.

She was, after all, the kids’ teacher, and he was, for the time being, their parent. He really was obligated to be somewhat friendly to her, wasn’t he? It was his duty. He was as close to a PTA as Dry Creek had, since he was the almost-parent of the only two kids in her class right now. If Bobby and Amanda were still with him in a few months, he’d have to enroll them in the regular school in Miles City instead of homeschooling them. But, until then, it was practically his civic duty to be friendly to their ballet teacher. And he didn’t need a doughnut to make him realize it.