“We work together,” Callie insisted.
“Oh, we get it, honey.” Hannah set out a box of fresh brownies. “I got these in case we needed to bribe you to talk, but as you can see,” she waved a hand toward Callie but eyed Meredith, “Totally unnecessary.”
“Which means we can probe her for further information about Matt.”
“All the good stuff.” Hannah withdrew a brownie, grinning.
“Every little detail.” Meredith half sang the words in anticipation.
Callie burst out laughing. “Stop. Both of you. I’m not saying a thing. He’d be mortified to think we’re talking about him like this.”
“More like complimented beyond belief,” Meredith argued in sister-like fashion. “But we’ll shelve that for later.” She took a seat alongside Callie and seized her hands, her fingers and eyes examining Callie’s roughed-up skin. Seeing her hands against Meredith’s more feminine version made Callie want to shrink back. Maybe run for her life, but then Meredith met Callie’s eyes. “You wondered if I could help you, right?”
Self-conscious, Callie fidgeted. “Yes.”
“Oh, honey.” Meredith squeezed Callie’s hands but leaned in, smiling. “I can work wonders on the skin and the nails, but what you’ve got here,” she raised Callie’s hands slightly, “are the hands of a woman unafraid to get the job done. And no matter what you might think up here,” Meredith tapped her head with one tapered, manicured finger, “God has blessed you with beautiful hands to match a wonderful heart. I can create pretty-looking skin.” She met Callie’s look with a bright, knowing smile. “But only God can create amazing hands like yours.”
“I—” Callie sat back, touched, pleased and not a little embarrassed.
“Having said that,” Meredith grinned, stood, crossed the room and wheeled back a manicure tray, “let’s have a little fun, shall we, girls?” She bent and plugged in a cord, then immersed Callie’s hands in the small sink.
Jets of warm water soothed Callie’s skin. Her hand muscles. Her fingertips, alternately chilled and dried by nature and job conditions. And as Meredith went through her usual routine of soaking, massaging, oiling and waxing, Callie’s heart began to relax along with her skin. By the time Meredith put a finishing coat of clear polish on Callie’s French manicure, Callie’s hands felt nurtured. Cared for. Pampered.
Not that she’d be able to grow accustomed to this, but for once, to feel soft, feminine hands? Smooth-as-silk skin?
Delightful.
And by the time Meredith finished pampering her, Callie felt like she’d known the other woman forever. Meredith wasn’t anything like Callie remembered from high school, but then, neither was she.
“Thank you.” She reached out and gave Meredith a hug while Hannah gathered their scarves and gloves. “They feel wonderful.”
“Aw, you’re welcome.” And when Callie tried to hand Meredith money, the other woman waved it off, smiling. “Family gets free perks.”
“But I’m not family.”
Meredith and Hannah exchanged smiles. “A simple matter of timing, honey.” Meredith grinned at Callie’s bemused expression and high-fived Hannah. “And having another girl around…”
“One who knows how to get things done,” Hannah interjected.
“And puts a smile on Matt’s face,” Meredith added. “That’s like the best Christmas present ever, right there.”
Callie fought down the blush Meredith’s words inspired, but felt the truth of them in her heart. Her soul.
Matt did like being with her. And seeing his sisters’ joint approval?
That just made a season of miracles seem more possible than she’d ever considered before.
Five o’clock.
He was late and in danger of missing Jake’s part in the Christmas Salute to Veterans concert at the elementary school, Matt realized as darkness fell that evening.
He finalized the wallboard contract for the remaining houses, rushed back to the Mareks’ and jumped into uniform, wishing he’d had someone else swing south to pick up Don. Matt headed down Route 19 and turned west toward Don’s apartment, impatient. He parked in the only available spot half-a-block down and dashed for Don’s house, wishing he’d paid closer attention to the time.
Don’s porch light clicked on. He pulled open the inner door, pivoted to shut it, then turned and stopped, staring at Matt as though he’d never seen him before.
The uniform, Matt realized.
“Ready?”
Don nodded. His gaze flicked up and down, then up again. “You look great.”
“Well, thanks.” Matt wore the formal uniform with pride, but he hadn’t pulled it out since a funeral the previous year. He’d forgotten the reaction it drew from people. Don’s was classic. “Sorry I’m late. Think we’ll make it in time?”
Don put a hand to his arm, his expression tight. “I’m proud of you, Matt.”
Part of Matt’s heart churned. He’d have loved to hear those words twenty-five years ago. Now? Discomfort crept up his spine.
Now he just needed to get to Jake’s concert in time to see the boy sing. He shrugged, embarrassed. “Let’s go.”
The overflowing parking lot said they’d gotten there far too late to find Callie and Hank in the uniform-studded audience.
She found them instead, and that made Matt feel special. Beloved. Her waving hand beckoned from down front. He let Don precede him and followed, drawn by a sweet force that linked him to her. “Hey.” He flashed a quick smile, grateful. “You saved us seats?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks, Cal.”
“You’re looking good, marine.”
He duffed the collar of her desert camo. “You, too.”
She made a little face of disbelief, but Matt tucked a finger beneath her chin until she met his gaze. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Cal. No matter what you’re wearing.”
Her eyes searched his, questioning. Wondering. He hoped his sincerity and intent showed in his answering look. Something must have telegraphed through because she ducked, blushing.
The blush. The smile. The averted gaze…
They had it bad, Matt realized anew. And he’d never imagined that having it bad could be so wonderfully good. But it was, right down to planning a future he’d refused to ponder, but being with Callie? Loving her?
Anything seemed possible.
He sat beside her, her soft fingers clasped in his, ready to lay old doubts at God’s feet, determined to grasp the life God offered, sweet and fulfilling. A life he didn’t think he deserved, but he was finally learning not to question God’s judgment.
Or Callie’s embracing smile.
Maybe, just maybe, he could have it all.
Chapter Sixteen
Callie saw the message light flashing on the home phone as she made coffee for the crew on Monday afternoon, sweet memories of Jake’s concert, Matt’s presence and Christmas brightening the day. She listened to Mary Kay’s excited news, then left the coffee to drip while she drove over to the subdivision. She burst into number seventeen, skirted an electrician running wire and cornered Matt in the great room. “They put an offer in on number twenty-three!”
Matt’s brows shot up. “Really? How do you know this?”
“Your cell must be down. Mary Kay left a message on the home phone.”
Matt grabbed her, spun her around and then just held her, the steady beat of his heart like music to her ears. “This is wonderful,” he whispered.
“Yes.” Oh, it was. To be held like this? Respected? Beyond wonderful.
“Good news?” Hank asked from above.
Matt fist pumped the air with one hand. “We’ve got our first sale.”
Hank grinned and let his gaze linger on them. “Among other things.”
Callie sidestepped Matt’s arm. “Just celebrating success, Dad.”
“We should do a special dinner tonight,” Matt announced.
“As in?”
“We’ll go to The Edge. Celeb
rate. The whole crew.” The Edge was the area’s acclaimed fine-dining experience.
Hank leaned over the roughed-in stairway. “Well, that gets mighty pricey. Let’s save that meal for when we’ve got all nine sold. How ’bout for tonight we just throw some good steaks on the grill? It’s snowing, but I don’t mind cookin’ in the snow.”
“And we’ll make baked potatoes,” Callie offered.
“And cauliflower with cheese sauce,” added Tom from a room away. “And rolls from the bakery.”
“Then we need to shop.” Callie glanced at her watch and frowned. Jake’s bus would be along soon, but she hated to miss work time for errands.
“I’ve got to grab some things in town once I’m finished here,” Matt told them. “I’ll pick up the steaks, cauliflower and rolls.”
“Excellent.”
His grin reflected her feelings. It was good to have that first house sold, a done deal, long-awaited. “I ran over here to tell you before the coffee finished up, so when I’m back at the house I’m doing two things,” Callie told him. “I’m calling to order the steaks because they might not have enough nice ones in the case this late in the day.”
“Good idea.”
“And I’m ordering a landline phone for the model,” Callie continued. “And setting up a spare coffeepot there. It’s silly to run across the road for coffee now.”
“Go for it.” He sent her a smile that made her heart feel like they were a team. “And don’t bring coffee back for me. I’m going to finish this piece and get the errands done so we don’t eat too late for Jake to enjoy it.”
“As long as it includes ice cream, Jake’ll love it,” Hank told him. The smile of satisfaction lighting his face made Callie realize she hadn’t seen her father look this at ease in years.
Darkness had descended by the time they’d washed up and gathered at the Marek house. Callie and Jake filled a big bowl with bright red punch, and as each man lumbered into the kitchen, Jake served him a fancy tiny-handled cup of the special concoction.
And not one of those big, burly guys laughed at the prissy glass cup they held.
Matt gave a short, sharp whistle. Conversation stopped as everyone turned his way. He raised his punch cup and surveyed the room, the glimmer of Christmas lights backlighting him. “Since none of us want those steaks to burn, I just want to thank all of you. To Hank and Callie,” he met Hank’s smile and matched it. “For your initial vision and hard work. And letting me bunk here. That proximity means the world to me.” He smiled again and Callie hoped he meant proximity to more than the half-built houses.
“Buck, Tom, Jim and Amanda.” He nodded to that group. “None of this would have been possible without you guys. You know that, don’t you?”
They hemmed and hawed, embarrassed.
“And to Don.” Matt turned to his stepfather deliberately and lofted the cup a little higher. “I’ve never seen better workmanship in drywall and that perfect finishing touch polishes the entire effect. Thank you. It’s nice having family on board.”
Don’s face paled. His hand shook. He opened his mouth to say something, then paused, overcome, unable to speak. Amanda swiped a quick hand to her face when Matt and Don exchanged looks of understanding.
Matt veered his attention to Jake. “And to you, my young friend. I don’t think there’s ever been a better apprentice in this business and I mean that. Good job, bud.”
Jake manned his glass cup of punch with all the seriousness an eight-year-old could muster. “Thanks, Matt.”
“To us.” Matt raised his cup higher. “To our continued good work and success. And let’s not forget to thank God for that stretch of good weather, because—” Matt deadpanned a look outdoors, “—I think it was slated to be our last.”
They sipped in unison, and Callie marveled at how quickly things had turned around. Six weeks before they’d been watching Cobbled Creek fade before their eyes. The view from her front window now embraced a lovely neighborhood, the hopes and dreams of two families coming together.
Matt gave Jake a quick hug and settled on the floor with him to play a quick round of checkers before dinner. Amanda came into the kitchen to help Callie. She swept Matt and Jake a smiling look. “Pretty nice scene, Cal.”
“It is.”
“The kind a girl could get used to,” Amanda added.
“If the girl were one of those romance-loving gals who believed in happily ever afters,” Callie replied, although when she was around Matt Cavanaugh it was easier to dream. Hope. Believe.
“And that’s the nice thing about life.” Amanda trailed the words, her eyes laughing at Callie’s attempt to maintain distance. “Things have a way of changing up when you least expect it.”
“Steaks are done,” Hank called out as he came back inside.
“Great.” Matt stood, pulled Jake up beside him and surveyed the laden table, gratitude marking his expression. “Thanks for doing this, Callie, because you prefer a hammer to a stovetop.”
“You know I make exceptions now and again.” She sent him a smile across the table, and hoped he read the pride she felt. Working for him, seeing the homes progress, watching this plan come together at long last.
“I’m glad,” Matt told her. His tone said he read her expression correctly.
Jake sat at a card table they set up in the living room with the two Slaughter kids. Once Amanda had them settled, the crew gathered around the table, the mixed scents of rich meat, tangy cheese and fresh-baked rolls teasing the senses. “God, you’ve blessed us with Matt Cavanaugh,” Hank intoned as they clasped hands around the table. “You brought him to us and gathered us together. We thank you for that, and this food. Amen.”
“Amen.”
“Short and sweet.” Buck nodded, affable. “Good job.”
“Can’t let the meat get cold,” said Hank. “And I don’t want this to go to Matt’s head. All this thankin’ business.”
“Wouldn’t want that.” Matt grinned at him, and took a bite of steak. “And right now I can tell you that no one on this planet cooks a better steak than you, Hank.”
“Timing.” Hank smiled as he savored his own first bite, but he let his eyes twinkle Matt’s way. “It’s all in the timing, son.”
Matt read Hank’s look and recognized the truth in the words. He turned toward Don. “Did I hear you say you’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go along.”
Don started to shake his head, obviously uncomfortable, but Matt put him off. “No sense arguing. I know it’s at the cancer clinic and that these guys all know about it, so we’ll stop work around two and head over there, okay?”
Don’s nod said he didn’t trust himself to speak.
“And Matt,” Buck cut in, jutting his chin toward the subdivision, “I’m putting the plow on my truck tomorrow so I’ll keep the roadway into the houses cleaned out for us, okay?”
“Buck, that would be awesome. Thank you.”
Buck shrugged that off. “Not too many weeks ago this was stretching to be a long, bad winter.” He sipped from his tiny, glass cup and grinned at the looks the other guys shot him. “But now? Well, now,” he raised his cup high in salute to Matt, the Mareks and Cobbled Creek, “things are looking up.”
Hank had thanked God for him, Matt mused as he and Don headed toward the clinic in Wellsville the following afternoon. The idea that anyone placed stock in him both pleased and scared Matt, but with the Marek family? He’d go with mostly pleased.
He pulled up to the clinic’s door, dropped Don off and proceeded to an open parking space at the back of the snowy lot. As he pushed through the entrance door, he spotted Don being led to a treatment room down a back corridor. Matt settled into an empty seat, picked up a sports magazine and started rifling the pages.
“Burdick? Joyce Burdick?”
“Here.” An older woman stood slowly, a haze of pain creasing her features.
“Lean on me, Mom.”
The older woman sent her son a fond look. “It’s nice to have you home this weekend, Dustin.”
“It’s good to be here.”
Dustin Burdick. Callie’s ex-husband. Jake’s dad. He was in town, but hadn’t told Callie or asked to see his son.
Matt felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He had to hold himself back from having it out with the guy then and there.
“The treatment will take about an hour once we get her settled in,” explained the nurse as an orderly helped Dustin’s mother into a wheelchair. “So if you want to come back in about ninety minutes, that would be fine.”
“Thanks.” Dustin bent and kissed his mother’s cheek, then headed for the door. “I’ll get that Christmas stuff for you, Mom.”
“Thanks, honey.”
Honey?
The sweet endearment might mean something coming from Dustin Burdick’s mother, but Matt found the irony too much to bear. He followed Dustin outside and called his name. Dustin turned, surprise and caution vying for his features.
“Yes?”
“You’re in town for the weekend?”
Dustin shifted left. “Do I know you?”
“No.” Matt braced his feet and folded his arms, keeping his voice and expression taut. “But I know your ex-wife. And your son. And I’m just wondering what kind of guy walks out on a great kid like Jake and never calls. Never sends cards or gifts. Never visits his own flesh and blood. What kind of soldier were you when you can treat your own family like that?”
“Who are you? And what business is it of yours?” Dustin growled the words, his displeasure apparent.
“Callie works for me.” Lame, Cavanaugh, when Callie was so much more than an employee. Still, he wasn’t about to share their relationship with Dustin Burdick, a cheating spouse and deadbeat father. Matt had enough of that to last a lifetime. “And you didn’t answer the question. How can you walk out on a kid like that? Just turn your back and go?”
Matt didn’t try to fool himself that cornering Dustin in a public parking lot was the smartest thing he’d ever done, but good marines seize opportunities God sends their way. And today God put Dustin square in Matt’s path.
Yuletide Hearts Page 18
