His Daughter's Prayer

by Danielle Thorne

  Mark forced a casual chuckle. “It’s only going to get worse.”

  Pat sat back. They’d known each other since grade school. “I’m hoping it’s going to cool down before Thursday, but they’re saying it ain’t going to do nothing till next week.”

  Mark crossed his legs and put an elbow on the desk. “Am I under arrest or what?” He smiled but bit the inside of his cheek.

  Pat blew him off with a wave of the envelope. “Oh, no, you know how it is. McIntyre complains about everyone.”

  Mark looked at him in surprise. “Is this about this morning? We did have some words, but that was it.”

  “I’m sure that took great self-control.” Pat shot him a knowing look, and Mark shrugged.

  “I’m not going to lie. He’s doing me wrong. What’s he want?”

  Pat waved him off again. “Oh, nothing. He’s just trying to make you uncomfortable. Here.” He held out the paper. “It’s not a warrant or anything. I don’t know what it is. He just asked me to hand this to you if we spoke today.”

  Mark leaned over the desk and took it. “I assume it’s not a threatening letter since he handed it to you.”

  The deputy shrugged. “Open it and see. I’m happy to be a witness.”

  The envelope was official bank stationery so Mark assumed it was from McIntyre’s personal desk. He picked up a tarnished silver letter opener from the desk and slit the envelope open. When he unfolded the paper inside, he wasn’t surprised to see it was just a letter with the bank’s letterhead stamped on the top, but the contents made his heart stop.

  Pat cleared his throat, and Mark looked up. He felt the blood drain from his face and saw the concern on Pat’s face. “What is it?”

  “It’s an eviction notice.”

  The deputy raised a brow. “Your house?”

  “No, I own that. I have two weeks to be paid up in full on rent on this place with late fees, or he’s taking me to court and shutting me down.”

  “Wow.” Pat wiped his chin with a shoulder. “You behind?”

  Mark nodded. “A few months.”

  “Yeah. He kind of told us that, but I thought it was just June or something.”

  “No, since spring,” Mark admitted. “He raised the rent on this place, and it’s put me behind.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I get it, trust me.”

  Mark knew deputies didn’t get paid that much, and that they put their lives on the line every day. “Thanks.”

  Pat heaved himself up, and Mark jumped up to shake hands with him. He let the letter slip to the floor. After the deputy left, he sat back down in the chair and stared through the doorway. There was an empty space on the far wall where the hutch had been. The hutch that had doubled in value after Callie got her hands on it.

  He sighed and picked up the piece of paper off the floor. His shoe had left a dirty footprint on it. He read it again, then crumpled it up and threw it across the room. Curveball.

  There was no way he could come up with that much cash, not unless he took out a loan. Unfortunately, there was no way a bank in Ragland would give him one. McIntyre had too much power.

  Mark scratched his chin. He was out of sports memorabilia worth selling. He’d already given that up. He still had the spoons, but that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe he could sell just one acre from the most northern end of the property, and that would cover it. It’d appease them for now, he hoped, but they weren’t getting the lot across the street. Hadley had the right to grow up in the country just like he did.

  He stretched back in the chair, hungry. He checked the time. Callie was probably with her sister out in Taylorsville or checking out a new listing with one of the other agents. Brett Martin kept her hopping. At this rate, she’d never have time to open her boutique. Then she’d give up and head back to Nashville.

  It suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t want that, but it seemed to be what she wanted. He’d let her go once, hadn’t he? Did he have any right to stop her?

  He hesitated, not wanting to bother her, but his gut told him that she wouldn’t mind. He hit her name in his phone’s contacts list, and she picked up with cheerful enthusiasm. The sound of her voice lifted the invisible weight off his shoulders.

  He laid back in the chair and closed his eyes. With a hand over his forehead to push the oncoming headache back, he told her everything.

  Chapter Twelve

  Callie woke up Thursday morning, and the first thing she remembered was giving Mr. Martin the bad news yesterday. His face had turned white when she made it clear that she had no interest in working as an agent and that she would not be attending the training. Her phone rang, and she groaned.

  “What’d you do, Callie?” Amanda’s tired voice croaked through the phone.

  “You heard already?”

  “I heard last night. You left the office, and then I had to take Justin to T-ball practice, so I couldn’t talk until now. I don’t know if Mr. Martin’s going to keep you on for the rest of the summer, Callie. He’s pretty upset.”

  Callie pushed the bedcovers off her legs and put her feet onto the floor. “It doesn’t matter at this point,” she said in a dull voice. “That’s not the kind of work I want to do. I told him so, and that’s that.”

  “But it’s a great opportunity. The company would have paid for your training. It’s a whole new career.”

  “It’s not the career that I want.” Callie’s voice cracked, and tears that had escaped last night welled back up in her eyes. “I was happy to stage homes, I told him so, and he pays fair. I said I could supply furniture and other pieces as needed, but being at the beck and call of an entire office just isn’t for me.”

  “He must have thought you were crazy—and ungrateful.”

  A single, hot tear streamed down her cheek, and Callie stumbled into the bathroom and sat down on the side of the old porcelain tub. “He looked shocked for a minute, then he said that’s what he always expected. But it’s not fair. He never mentioned this part of his plan when he offered me the staging job.”

  “Maybe he was listening to the talk in town.”

  “What talk?”

  “People see you with Mark, you know.”

  “So? That doesn’t mean I have plans to stay.”

  “They’re just assuming you do.”

  “Well, if there’s no boutique, I’m not.”

  “You are so stubborn.” Amanda sighed. “You do realize you’ll probably have to pay Mr. Martin for the part of the class fees he won’t get back.”

  Callie rubbed her eyes. “I won’t. I never asked him to sign me up.”

  “Maybe you could have told him sooner.”

  “Why are you taking his side? You know I hate disappointing people, but it’s not what I agreed to when I moved back here. I just needed something to pay off the debt and—”

  “I know. You want to have your own shop, and now...” Amanda exhaled into the phone. “You’re right. What are you going to do if he tells you that you can’t stay on?”

  “I don’t know,” Callie moaned.

  “Well, don’t worry. We’ll work something out.”

  Callie ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “No, you’ve done enough for me. If he lets me go, I’ll pick up something else. Maybe I’ll go back to Nashville early or move in with Dad.”

  Amanda let out a jarring laugh. “You will not move back to Nashville. You’re not leaving me here alone again.”

  Callie swallowed. She realized she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to go back to Nashville. She didn’t want to leave Amanda—or Mark—she admitted to herself. She liked it here. It felt like where she was meant to be. Besides, what if he asked her to stay?

  “Hey, don’t worry about it today. It’s a holiday. Get dressed and meet us at the lake around lunchtime.”

  Callie stood and stretched. A p
arade and time at the lake—with Mark. It could still be a wonderful day.

  * * *

  Red, white and blue banners fluttered from the street lamps around the town square. Mark parked his truck around back and walked through the Antique Market with Hadley skipping at his side. She was beside herself with excitement over the parade. He was trying to appear just as happy.

  Instead, his mind was on the bank. He’d looked over the most recent survey of his land the night before and decided on a parcel to offer them. It was that or the spoons. He knew McIntyre would be eager to deal with Mark directly.

  The problem would be getting the bank to give him a fair price. If it came down to it, Mark could also sell the lot across the road, but it would be a last resort. There’d be almost no reason to keep living at the house like he’d planned on all these years, not if he wanted any peace and quiet. He might as well move Hadley into town.

  With a sigh, he unlocked the front door and left it open to catch a breeze. Early shoppers strolled by up and down the block.

  He’d just sat down behind the counter, while Hadley climbed over furniture, when Callie came in.

  “Hi.” She waved, and he looked up and smiled at her.

  “Callie!” Hadley darted across the room and jumped on her like an overexcited puppy. Callie picked her up and gave her a hug, her eyes meeting Mark’s. He saw her cheeks flush.

  “How’d it go with work?” he asked.

  Her sunny expression fell flat, and she set Hadley down.

  “Not good?”

  She looked away and shook her head.

  “What’d he say?”

  “You mean Mr. Martin?”

  “Yes, I mean Mr. Martin.” Mark came around the counter to meet her, wanting to take her into his arms. Could he give her a hug? Would she let him?

  Hadley climbed on top of a piano bench and swung her legs. “Come sit on my boat, Callie.”

  “In a minute, sweetheart.” Callie turned back to Mark. “I told him I wouldn’t be getting my license,” she said, “and he told me he’d have to rethink having me onboard.”

  “I’m sorry. That’s foolish of him. Look at what you’ve done already.”

  She put a hand on her hip and tried to look like she didn’t care. “I know, right? What’s he going to do without me?”

  An elderly couple tiptoed in through the door and gave Mark a questioning look. He waved them inside. “Come on in, we’re open,” he called, and they appeared happy to look around. The parade didn’t start for an hour, but people were starting to set up chairs and claim spots on the sidewalks around the square. A woman and toddler came in next.

  Callie tried to shake off her mood. She set a hand on his arm and pushed him back toward the counter. “Go ahead. I’m going to look around and start rearranging this place for you if you don’t mind. It’ll be therapeutic for me, and I’m sure Hadley can help.”

  “No, have at it. All the suggestions you’ve made so far have been great. If you see anything you think needs to be moved, go for it.”

  She started in the back corner where he’d repaired the leak. With the local radio station playing and the crowds growing outside the shop, he hummed along at the counter, sold a very expensive set of collectible cookware and watched Callie from the corner of his eye. Hadley stayed on her heels.

  Within only an hour, Callie cleared out a space for headboards and rails and moved all of them to the back wall of the store. She set up one of the nicer bed frames, calling to him that they’d need a mattress for a display, and then started pushing china cabinets and consoles from the middle of the floor to the wall where the bed frames had been.

  She walked through the store, collecting similar pieces, and set up a light oak buffet with folded handmade table runners on one end. Three sets of glass goblets were artfully arranged on silver serving platters, and all of the heirloom wedding china was spread out by pattern.

  It made sense. He found himself helping her when people stopped browsing to get ready for the parade. “I like this,” he admitted.

  Callie pointed over his shoulder. “Your grandfather clock drives me crazy. I think you should move it over to this side of the store. It’s almost in the aisle.”

  “I want people to see it.”

  “They’d see it better if it was up against the wall.” She pointed to the front where the bookshelves were. “It could go up there. Put the tall stuff against the walls and the low end tables on either side of them so you can see across the room.”

  “I guess you’re right.” The siren of an emergency vehicle rang out, and Mark checked his watch.

  “Daddy, let’s go!” Hadley rushed to the door, peering down the sidewalk.

  “Wait for Daddy,” Callie called out.

  Mark didn’t have to warn her not to run off. “We have about five minutes. Let’s go out and catch the show.”

  Callie grinned at him with shining eyes, and he felt relieved she’d forgotten about all of her trouble with her job. He admired her. She saw the shop through an entirely different lens than him, and it was okay. It worked. They’d always worked well together.

  He glanced at his daughter, who took Callie’s hand instead of his. Could all three of them work together?

  They walked outside after Mark closed the door behind them. His eyes glanced at the spoons, a focal point behind the counter. He took his keys out of his pocket and locked the door.

  They walked into the throng to cheer the first parade entry marching down the street. The line of small floats and local high school bands snaked around the square and back down Main Street until it reached Broad Street.

  Callie whispered a compliment at his attempt to French braid Hadley’s hair, then cheered beside him as he clapped and whistled. Lois found them and stood by Hadley whooping at the clowns on bikes. Callie spotted Amanda and Todd across the street and waved.

  Mark caught Callie’s hand and held it. They both laughed at each other trying to catch the candy thrown from the floats one-handed. He caught a couple of lollipops and handed them to Hadley, then Callie pleaded for her to share, crowing at her success when the little girl gave one up. She unwrapped it, popped it into her mouth and gave Mark a wink.

  The weather was perfect. The music, too. It’d been so long since Mark had felt this happy. His daughter was there, his friends were in the crowd and the prettiest girl in Ragland stood right next to him again.

  A marching band came thundering down Main and brass horns trumpeted out over the square. Mark looked over at Callie and squeezed her hand. She flashed him her electric smile. His heart did a backflip like he’d just seen her for the first time. He stared, his mind jumping forward and backward, trying to tell him something.

  When she turned back around to watch the parade, he put his arm around her waist. He’d given up enough in his life. He wasn’t going to let her go so easily this time.

  * * *

  “Okay, that’s the funnest parade I’ve ever been to, and I’ve been to a lot.”

  “Funnest?” Mark teased, and Callie wondered if it was for her grammar or her giddiness. “I’m glad you approve. Nothing like a twenty-minute parade through the streets of Ragland.”

  She giggled. “Okay, it was kind of short, but with everyone hanging out before and after, and all the chalk on the streets and everybody throwing candy, it was better than Mardi Gras.”

  “Much less wild.”

  “Right, that’s what I mean.”

  They sat side by side in the truck as Mark steered down the highway toward the lake. Hadley hummed to herself in the back seat. Callie felt like she was flying. Work didn’t matter anymore. She could worry about her future employment with Martin Realty another time. Not today.

  She’d almost felt light-headed when Mark put his arms around her during the parade. He cared about her and for all the right reasons. He was a gentle
man—and always had been.

  “Are you ready for your sister’s picnic?” he asked. “Should I stop and get anything?”

  Callie shook her head. “No, I offered several times, but she insisted we come out after we locked up the shop for the day.”

  “I’m not used to going to things empty-handed, but if you say so.”

  They made it to the small picnic shelter by the lake’s swimming area just a half hour after the parade. Hadley had fallen asleep, and Mark eased her out carefully and rested her on his shoulder.

  “So what would you think about refinishing the floors in your store?” Callie walked beside him across the grass toward people milling around picnic tables.

  Mark tugged his baseball cap over his head with his free hand. “It’d be a lot of work, moving everything out to get it done, but you’re right. It needs help, and it’d spruce the place up.”

  “And then some.”

  He smiled, and she thought he’d grab her hand, but Todd yelled and waved a Frisbee in the air at him.

  “Your buddy’s calling,” Callie laughed. “Do you want me take her?” Mark handed over Hadley, and Callie rearranged her in her arms. “I got you,” she murmured, paying no mind to Mark’s long look.

  They separated, and Callie went in search of Amanda. She found her opening bags of potato chips, and sat down nearby with Hadley on her lap until she woke up.

  “How was the parade?” Amanda asked.

  “It was awesome. Didn’t you enjoy it?”

  “Not with this bunch. I was this close to putting leashes on them.”

  Callie laughed, and a roused Hadley climbed down from her knee.

  Amanda pointed. “The kids are playing over there, Hadley.” The little girl made a beeline for Justin.

  Callie put her hands on her hips and examined the long picnic table filling up with food. “What can I do to help?”

  They set up sandwiches and sodas while chatting about the parade. When Amanda asked how things were with Mark, Callie said simply, “They’re good.”