by Renee Ryan
Callie knew just how easy it would be for Reese to continue holding on to the blame for his wife’s death, instead of allowing God to heal his pain. Hadn’t she done much the same thing with Simon?
“I left the church and came here to Miranda’s grave with the idea of letting her go.” He flexed his hand. “It’s time I forgave her for dying on me.”
“And time,” Callie ventured, knowing she was risking his ire, “you stopped blaming yourself for not preventing the accident that took her life.”
He nodded. “Yes. It’s time I forgave myself, as well.”
Did he know what a huge step he’d just taken? Did he realize the ramifications? “You recently called me brave. But you’re the one who’s brave, Reese. So very, very brave.”
He didn’t respond.
Cupping his face between her palms, she kissed him firmly on the lips. “Thank you for telling me about Miranda.”
She dropped her hands, blinked away the sting of tears and attempted to stand.
“Don’t go.” He pulled her back down beside him. “I still have something to say, something important.”
Callie waited, holding her breath, fearing what was about to come out of his mouth yet knowing he needed to have his say.
“On several occasions you’ve asked me why I don’t want a love match. Now you know the answer.”
She did. But she didn’t like it.
“I’ve already loved once in my life. Once was enough. I know how much it costs to give someone my heart, and the terrible price that must be paid when love is lost. I’ll not willingly go through that pain again.”
Callie lowered her head a moment, her heart beating wildly against her ribs. “I understand.” She pushed the words past the lump in the throat. “I’ll continue helping you find a suitable bride, but I won’t expect you to fall in love with her.”
He eyed her for a long, tense moment. “Thank you.”
She nodded, feeling helpless and sad and more than a little defeated.
“Come on.” Rising, he reached out and pulled her to her feet. “We had better return before my father and Mrs. Singletary get it into their heads to send out a search party for us.”
Callie tried to laugh, but the sound came out scratchy and rough. A perfect match to her mood.
Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, Reese led her out of the cemetery and around the building to the front of the church.
His father and Mrs. Singletary were waiting for them on the front steps.
“Ah, there you two are.” Mrs. Singletary dropped a large, satisfied smile over them. “Mr. Bennett and I were discussing where we should partake in our noonday meal. We have decided upon the Hotel Dupree because, as Callie can attest, the chef makes a memorable sea bass.”
The elder Mr. Bennett smiled. “I enjoy a good sea bass.”
The idea of food made Callie’s stomach churn, as did the prospect of sitting through a meal making small talk. She opened her mouth to refuse, thinking she would claim a headache, when she remembered her conversation with the Velasquez children. “That sounds lovely, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you.”
Mrs. Singletary, being Mrs. Singletary, insisted on an explanation. “Why ever not, dear?”
“I promised a couple of the Charity House children I’d bake cookies with them this afternoon.”
The widow continued holding Callie’s gaze.
The penetrating look caused her to add, “I mustn’t disappoint the children.”
“No,” the widow said in an ironic tone. “We wouldn’t want that.”
Callie extricated her arm from Reese’s only to have him reach out and take her hand. “I believe I’ll join Callie at the orphanage.”
“You will?” she asked, shooting him a surprised look. “Why?”
“I have a fondness for fresh baked cookies. And—” he divided a long, steady stare between his father and Mrs. Singletary “—a massive dislike of sea bass.”
* * *
Beatrix watched two of her favorite young people depart on their walk to Charity House. A short walk, indeed, seeing as the orphanage’s backyard spilled onto church property.
Oh, but it did her soul good to witness the changes in their relationship. Not long ago they were quite awkward in one another’s company. Now they fell into perfect step, matching each other’s stride, as if they’d been strolling together like that all their lives.
She smiled fondly after their retreating backs. At last they were comfortable together. Indeed, they made a far cozier picture than when she’d insisted Callie walk Mr. Bennett to the door after her dinner party. They’d barely looked at one another that night. Now, their heads were tilted close in hushed conversation.
Only after they turned the final corner did she allow her smile to turn smug. “They are falling in love.”
She predicted an autumn wedding, the plans already materializing in her mind.
If his masculine snort was anything to go by, apparently the man standing beside her had a differing opinion. “You think you’re so clever, Beatrix.”
Not prone to feigning false humility, she answered the odious question without hesitation. “I am clever, Reese, dear, as evidenced by my vast and ever-increasing fortune, which, as you may recall—” she lifted her nose in the air “—has greatly benefited your own overflowing coffers.”
He started to say something, probably, I earned most of the money without your help, but she cut him off.
“Do you object to your son marrying my companion?”
“I think they make a lovely couple. I am quite fond of Miss Mitchell. I hope something comes of it.” The corner of his mouth turned down. “That’s not the point.”
Her brows rose. “But of course that’s the point.”
He jabbed a finger in the air between them. “You shouldn’t meddle in other people’s lives.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If not me, then who do you suggest should guide otherwise stubborn individuals to their happily-ever-after?”
His lips tightened. “You should leave the future up to the Lord. Stop playing God.”
The very idea. It was insulting. “I am but a humble servant of our Lord, directing misguided men and women in the proper direction. I never force a match.”
“No?”
“I nudge.”
“Beatrix, you cannot continue interfering in other people’s lives. One day you will make a false step.”
She waved this off with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t be silly. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
For the barest second he looked appalled that she would dare claim such a thing, then, in a stern tone, he said, “No one is infallible. You will make a mistake. It’s only a matter of time. I urge you to cease and desist—”
“Reese Bennett, you may be smart. You may be highly successful in your given field.” You may be entirely too handsome for your own good. “But you will not tell me what to do.”
He stared at her.
“I mean it.”
To her great surprise, he laughed.
Finished with their conversation—with the man himself—she turned on her heel and headed down the pathway to her home. Walking, or rather marching, with her head held high, served the very necessary purpose of cooling off her temper.
“Beatrix, darling,” the odious man called after her. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”
Her feet ground to a halt. Instead of turning around completely, the man didn’t deserve that much courtesy, she shot a haughty look over her shoulder. “What would that be, Reese, darling?”
“You promised to introduce me to the Hotel Dupree’s famous sea bass.”
“You still wish to dine with me this afternoon?”
“I would like nothing better.�
� The smile he gave her was quite devastating.
She pressed her lips tightly together in what turned out to be a failed attempt at returning that handsome smile.
“Come, Beatrix.” He reached out his hand. “My carriage is ready and waiting to take us across town.”
Well, why not? She spun back around and, in silence, head still lifted, took his outstretched hand.
When their fingers connected, then entwined, the smirk he shot her was full of masculine arrogance.
“You should know I am only accompanying you because, once given, I never break a promise.” She looked at him with narrowed eyes, daring him to comment.
With nary a word, he helped her into the carriage and settled on the opposite seat. His gaze warmed. “I apologize for upsetting you, Beatrix. It was unconsciously done.”
She noted he didn’t actually ask for forgiveness for what he said, merely for upsetting her. As apologies went, she supposed it wasn’t the worst she’d ever heard. Not the best, but certainly not the worst.
She could continue making him suffer, but no one would ever accuse Beatrix Singletary of carrying a grudge. “Apology accepted.”
“So quickly?” He leaned back in his seat and chuckled softly. “You do realize I was prepared to grovel.”
Ha, she knew better than that.
“Nevertheless,” she began, feeling far more generous than he deserved, “at times such as these, it helps to have a short memory.”
He inclined his head. “You are graciousness itself.”
“Of course I am.”
Having seized the last word, she leaned back in her seat and set out to enjoy a fine meal with equally fine company at a very fine hotel.
Chapter Nineteen
With each step she and Reese took toward Charity House, Callie felt the tension seep out of him. He seemed more relaxed, as if a dark shadow had been lifted from his heart.
How well she knew the feeling, and how happy she was to see the light restored in his eyes. Ignoring the little flutter in her heart, she smiled up into his face.
He smiled back.
They were a single unit in that moment, united by the revelation of their individual secrets to one another. If only Reese wasn’t resolved to lead with his head, Callie thought.
If only she could settle for less than love in her own life. Perhaps then they could forge something lasting, something that would keep them together forever.
When they turned the final corner to the orphanage, she pulled him to a stop. “Tell me the real reason you chose to come with me to Charity House instead of dining with your father and Mrs. Singletary.”
“I really dislike sea bass.”
She laughed. “Very funny. But, seriously, Reese, why?”
He shot a glance over her shoulder, smiled secretively. “I’ve been thinking it’s time Beatrix Singletary found herself on the other end of a little matchmaking.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not even a little.” Returning his gaze to hers, he lifted an elegant shoulder. “My father seems the perfect choice.”
She couldn’t think why. “But they disagree on most topics.”
“Precisely.” He leaned forward, lowered his voice. “Take a moment and think about it, Callie.”
Contemplating the notion, she tapped her chin with her fingertip.
“Mrs. Singletary and your father, as a couple? Why that’s brilliant.” Half appalled, half amused, another bubble of laughter slipped past her lips. “A bit startling, but brilliant.”
“I’ve been known to think fast on my feet.” He leaned over and gave her a boyish grin. “A talent that can be quite handy in the most startling, brilliant ways imaginable.”
Laughing in perfect harmony, they entered Charity House side by side. But then Reese pulled away, mentioning something about needing to find Marc.
Callie reluctantly let him go.
Feeling slightly abandoned—all right, a lot abandoned—she adopted a more leisurely pace than the long, clipped strides that had taken Reese so quickly away from her.
She’d barely moved into the main parlor when a small hand tugged on her skirt. A surge of affection seized her heart.
“Hello, Gabriella.” Callie crouched down to eye level, studied the pretty little girl. “I forgot to tell you this morning, but you look quite lovely in that dress. I particularly love the pink bow tied at your waist.”
“Look what I can do.” The child executed a perfect twirl.
“Very impressive.” Callie hugged the girl’s thin shoulders.
Gabriella clung for several seconds, then squirmed free.
“Where’s your brother?” she asked, mildly concerned. It wasn’t typical to find one Velasquez child without the other nearby.
“He’s in the tiger room. He and the other boys are playing with toy soldiers.”
“Sounds like...fun?”
“Uh-uh.” The little girl scowled adorably. “I’d rather bake cookies with you.”
“Already halfway done,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.
Smiling, Callie straightened to her full height. Temperance Evans stood silhouetted in a ray of sunlight, looking really quite beautiful as she returned the gesture.
“Don’t tell me you cook, too?” Callie asked.
“No, no, no.” The headmistress gave a brief shudder. “My mother always used to say that if you can make sense of a recipe, you can make any dish. But I’ve discovered it’s a bit more complicated.”
Callie didn’t disagree. Even something as basic as deciphering simple measurements could present a challenge to someone unschooled in the various abbreviations.
Miss Evans frowned down at the child holding onto Callie’s hand. “You are not to be in the main parlor, Gabriella. It’s against house rules.”
Though her words were somewhat stern, Miss Evans ran a gentle hand over the child’s hair as she added, “You must rejoin the other little girls playing jacks on the back porch.”
Gabriella buried her face in Callie’s skirt. “I want to stay with you.”
Frustration flashed in the headmistress’s gaze, followed by a genuine note of sympathy.
Before Miss Evans could decide which emotion to give in to, Callie spoke first. “What do you say, Gabriella?” She pried the little girl away from her skirt. “Want to come with me and see what’s happening on the back porch?”
“No.” The child stared at the floor. “I want to go find my brother.”
Miss Evans sighed.
Callie leaned down and captured the child’s gaze with her own. “You don’t want to play jacks?”
The child’s eyes welled with tears. “I want Daniel.”
“Go on, Miss Mitchell. Take the child to her brother.”
Less than five minutes later, Callie stood on the edge of the tiger room, named after the massive mural painted on the far wall. The scene depicted a large jungle cat prowling through a detailed world of vines, trees, beautiful waterfalls and all sorts of colorful, exotic animals.
The boys, grouped into two separate teams, were facing off in what looked like a ferocious battle of some sort. They weren’t alone, either. Reese and Marc Dupree were on the floor with them, squaring off with one another from opposing sides.
They were so involved in their game, nobody noticed Callie and Gabriella. Callie took the opportunity to watch the skirmish in silence. Or rather, she watched Reese.
Her heart dipped to her toes. Reese. Oh, Reese. This was what he would be like as a father. Sprawled out on the floor, tin soldier in hand, playing as if he were another one of the children, caring little for the dirt and smudges on his clothes.
Daniel, sitting on Reese’s left, caught sight of his sister. “Gabriella, come be on my team. We’re playing marshal
s and outlaws.”
The little girl rushed over to her brother and plopped down beside him.
After patting her on the head, Reese handed Gabriella a tin soldier. “We’re the good guys, Marshal Velasquez.”
The little girl beamed up at him.
“You have too many people on your side,” the boy sitting beside Marc whined.
“Yeah,” another one added. “That’s not fair to us.”
“Callie, come quick.” Marc motioned her to take the empty spot next to him. “It’s up to you to even out the numbers.”
Even out the numbers. That had been nearly the exact same argument Mrs. Singletary had used when she’d insisted Callie attend her dinner party all those weeks ago.
Much had changed in her life since that night. She was no longer a piteous wallflower content to hide in the shadows. Nor was she satisfied with camouflaging her light behind ugly clothing.
The woman she was today fully embraced the transformation her employer had originally hoisted upon her. Happily willing to accept she was a child of God, worthy of love.
Reese had been instrumental in the change. Was it any wonder she loved him?
She loved him? Why, yes. She did. Callie loved Reese. The realization should have come as a shock, but instead it spread through her like warm honey, sweet and appealing yet also a little sticky.
Callie knew while she might never win Reese’s heart, she had to try.
“Move aside, boys.” She settled in beside Marc, and then locked her gaze on Reese. “Let the battle begin.”
* * *
This was the woman Reese had always suspected lurked inside Callie. Beneath the ugly clothing and off-putting facade was a beautiful, fierce warrior princess. A woman who bravely stepped out of the shadows and tackled life head-on.
Mesmerized, Reese watched her take up her position as one of the outlaws. Appropriate, given that this woman could easily steal his heart if he didn’t take care.
There were far worse fates a man could suffer.
Why, Reese wondered, had he avoided her all these years? Why had he kept his distance for so long?
