by Renee Ryan
He knew, of course.
Deep down, he’d sensed her fighting spirit, her passionate loyalty for the people she loved. That hidden ferocity had alarmed him. He’d been too hobbled by guilt over Miranda’s death to recognize the beauty of Callie Mitchell. By thinking he needed to maintain control at every turn, he’d steered clear of this charming, daring, magnificent woman.
In an ironic twist, it was Callie who’d helped him let go of Miranda and allow his wife to finally rest in peace.
Toy soldier in hand, a husky growl came out of her throat, followed by a delighted giggle. Reese couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He made a mental note to add not afraid to get dirty and willing to play with toy soldiers to his latest bride list.
Even dressed in her Sunday best, Callie battled as valiantly as any of the boys in the room. But, alas, her efforts—and those of her team—weren’t enough. The good guys won.
Daniel and Gabriella jumped up and down, cheering with the rest of their teammates.
As Reese watched the siblings’ uninhibited celebration, joy and relief filled him. He couldn’t be more pleased by their transformation.
Wondering if she’d noticed the change in the children, as well, he glanced over at Callie. A mistake. He’d let his guard drop a second too long. In the next instant, he was tackled playfully by his teammates. Fingers and elbows jabbed at him. He took a foot in the gut, one in his chest, and all he could think to do was...
Laugh.
It felt good to laugh. Freeing.
Not only was Miranda finally at peace but so, too, was he.
Hovering from a spot overhead, Callie peered down at him with one of her prettiest smiles. “Want help up?”
He rolled out from under the tangle of arms and legs, then stretched out his hand. “Please.”
The moment their palms pressed together he felt it, the sensation of coming home, of finding his place in the world, of letting go the fight.
Strangely lightheaded, he let Callie pull him to his feet. Staring into her eyes, his throat began to burn with unexpected emotion. He swallowed. “You are a fierce opponent, Miss Mitchell.”
“Something you should keep in mind, Mr. Bennett.”
“I like a good challenge.”
“Then considered yourself warned. One day, victory will be mine.”
“Watch yourself, Reese.” Smiling, Marc clasped him on the shoulder. “The Mitchells give no ground. They take no prisoners. It’s a marvel we lost the game.”
Eyes narrowed, Callie pointed a finger at Reese. “We’ll get you next time.”
He started to say something along the lines of you’re welcome to try, when he caught a movement in the doorway. The new schoolmistress stood beside Laney Dupree, watching the shenanigans from a safe distance.
Both women were smiling, but only Laney carried the smile into her eyes.
In fact, Temperance Evans looked excessively stiff. Her gaze was distant, as well. Standing intentionally apart from the action, she reminded Reese of Callie.
Or rather, the old Callie. The new Callie was the most approachable woman he knew. He was growing quite fond of the changes in her.
“I see we missed out on all the fun,” Laney said with a hint of remorse in her tone.
Miss Evans looked more than a little relieved.
Carrying two of the younger boys upside down in either hand, Marc sauntered over to his wife and kissed her square on the mouth with a loud smacking sound.
“Oh, stop.” She playfully pushed at his chest. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
That earned her a dry chuckle from her husband.
Grinning, Marc set the boys on their feet. At the same moment, Laney announced, “Milk and cookies are waiting in the kitchen.”
Cheers erupted, followed by a mass exodus toward the door.
Marc halted the stampede with a piercing whistle. “Everyone, freeze.”
Silence dropped over the room like a cannonball falling from the sky.
“You know the rules.”
“No running inside the house,” half the children said, while the other half grumbled under their breath.
Shoving away from her spot at the door, Miss Evans took charge.
“Follow me, children.” She turned on her heel, then glanced back over her shoulder. “Remember, we walk in an orderly fashion, single file, no pushing or shoving.”
She didn’t raise her voice, or speak overly harsh, yet every child obeyed her directives, lining up one by one, single file, tallest to shortest, Gabriella near the rear behind her brother.
Marveling, Reese stepped aside to let the children pass.
Once the last little boy trooped into the hallway, Marc let out another, softer whistle. “I bow to your expertise,” he said to his wife. “Miss Evans was a perfect hire.”
“I do so love being right.”
He gave her another loud peck on the cheek. “I know that, my love.”
Everyone laughed.
“You know, Laney—” Marc wiggled his eyebrows “—playing Marshals and Outlaws is hard work. I could use a cookie myself. What about you, Reese?”
Reese adopted the same hopeful tone as the other man. “I wouldn’t say no.”
Marc leaned around him. “Callie? What about you?”
“I also enjoy cookies.”
“Then follow me.” Laney motioned them into the hallway. “Quickly, now, before they’re all gone.”
As if in silent agreement, Reese and Callie took up a position side by side and fell in step behind the Duprees. Only as they wound their way to the stairwell did Reese realize Callie had grown unnaturally quiet. The fight hadn’t exactly left her, but she seemed less...bold. Not quite as feisty.
He glanced over at her, noticed her face held a thoughtful expression. A lot was going on in that complicated mind.
Wondering if he was the cause of this alteration in her mood, he waited until they hit the first-floor landing then tugged her off to one side.
Marc halted, as well, a question in his eyes.
“I need to speak with Callie before we join you in the kitchen.”
Brows traveling toward his hairline, Marc’s gaze turned suspicious.
Reese rolled his shoulders in annoyance. “We’ll stay out in the open. Where you can see us.”
This time, Marc looked to Callie for confirmation.
“I have no objection,” she said.
“Out in the open.” Marc pointed at Reese. “Move too far away from my line of vision, and I’ll come looking for you.”
“Understood.” As soon as Marc rounded the corner, Reese took Callie’s shoulders and turned her to face him. “All right, out with it.”
Her eyes widened. “Out with what?”
“What’s on your mind? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ I see the inner wheels spinning.”
She pressed her lips tightly together and said nothing.
“Come on, Callie. You’re thinking so loud my ears hurt.”
Sighing, she lifted a delicate shoulder. “I’d rather not speak of it here.”
He touched her arm. “You can tell me anything.”
She drew her bottom lip between the teeth, glanced at a spot behind him. Shaking her head, she pulled him into the shadows and lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “It’s Miss Evans.”
“The schoolmistress?” He jerked in surprise. “What about her?
Callie went silent on him again, but her eyes held a troubled light. That couldn’t be good.
“What’s wrong with Miss Evans?”
“Nothing. Not a single thing. If you must know.” Callie looked left, then right, then left again. “I like her.”
So she’d found a new friend. That was nice. But
why was she telling him? Why the stealth and whispered conversation?
As if reading his mind, Callie gave him a meaningful stare. “She’s perfect.”
“Please.” He made a sound deep in his throat. “No one is perfect.”
Another sigh, this one full of female frustration. “She’s perfectly suitable. For you. You must realize she fits all your requirements for a...” She mouthed the word bride.
For several heartbeats, Reese stood in stunned silence. She was foisting Miss Evans on him? Now? After all that had happened between them? When his head was so full of Callie he couldn’t think straight?
“Say something,” she whispered.
He couldn’t think what to say, so he went for levity. “Uh...something?”
Lips pursed, she shook her head at him. “She fits every one of your requirements and a few you haven’t listed.”
Did this woman not realize how miserable she sounded? Did she not realize how heartening it was for him to discover Callie didn’t want him pursuing Miss Evans? “I don’t like her.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
She’s not you.
He nearly blurted out the truth in his heart, but decided now wasn’t the time. Not with them skulking in shadows as if they had something to hide.
“Her smile rarely meets her eyes,” he said. “Doesn’t bode well for easy, lighthearted conversations.”
“Oh, honestly.” Callie threw her hands in the air. “Are you trying to be difficult?”
Actually, he was. But, again, now wasn’t the time for that particular conversation. He had a new bride list to finalize, with an entirely different set of requirements, ones Callie would surely approve of this time around. Seeing as she was his inspiration.
He looked over his shoulder again, back into the kitchen. Miss Evans was handing a cookie to one of the smaller children. The smile she gave the little girl was warm and friendly and completely rendered his earlier argument moot.
Callie followed the direction of his gaze and sighed heavily. “She’s very beautiful and appears to have a great affinity for children.”
She was so adorably upset by this admission he couldn’t help but tease her a little. “I may have responded in haste. Perhaps I’ll allow her further consideration, after all.”
“Did you know she can’t cook?”
Amused at Callie’s sudden switch in position, Reese pretended to consider this new piece of information. “Not at all?”
“She can’t even follow a simple recipe.”
Reese stifled a laugh. “She’s a smart woman. I’m confident she can learn.”
Lowering her head, Callie sighed a third time. Or was it the fourth? He’d lost count. “If you really like her,” she began, “I suppose I could teach her the basics.”
“You’d do that for me?”
She nodded, looking profoundly unhappy. He didn’t think he could adore this woman any more than he did right now.
“That’s very generous of you, Callie.” And very, very educational.
She was jealous of Miss Evans. Simply because she thought the woman would make him a suitable bride.
A plan began formulating in his mind. It would take time to implement and would require much preparation on his end.
Reese was a patient man, highly skilled at carrying out a properly prepared plan.
Beginning tomorrow, he would start over with his bride hunt. He would pursue just one woman from this point forward. The only woman he wanted, the most suitable woman for him.
The trick would be to convince Callie that he was equally suitable for her.
Chapter Twenty
Over the following weeks, Callie noticed a discernible change in Reese. He seemed more attentive, making a point to seek her out at parties or the theater or whenever their paths crossed. If he had a meeting with Mrs. Singletary, he lingered over mindless discussions with Callie about the weather, both before and after his appointment.
At Charity House he found ways to include her in whatever game he’d chosen to play with the children.
He always behaved above reproach, treating her as though she was a woman worthy of his respect. Other than that one time in his office, he didn’t attempt to kiss her again. No, he treated her with generosity and tenderness, as if she was precious in his sight. As a result, Callie was getting to know Reese on a whole new, deeper level.
She was also falling more in love with him by the day. Not the man she’d wistfully watched from afar, but the man she knew him to be now. A man who worked hard, cared deeply for his family and friends, and who adored all children.
What he didn’t do was discuss his bride hunt with Callie. No matter how many times she broached the subject, no matter what tactic she employed to get him talking, he managed to dodge the conversation altogether.
Only two causes made sense. Either he’d turned to Mrs. Singletary for help once again. Or he’d made up his mind and had chosen a woman to become his bride. The latter seemed unlikely. With all the attention he’d been paying Callie, how would he have time to pursue any woman? How could he—
A gasp flew past her lips. She quickly pressed a hand to her mouth. But... Oh. Oh. Reese was pursing...her?
“Oh, my!”
Situated behind the desk in her private study, Mrs. Singletary looked up from the guest list she held in her hand. “Did you say something, Callie?”
“No, I...I just...” She couldn’t form thoughts in her mind. Her heart beat wildly in her ears, stealing what little concentration she had left. “I...thought of something I forgot to do for tonight’s ball.”
The widow placed the list on the desk in front of her. “What is that, dear?”
Think, Callie. Think. “I...haven’t picked out my hairstyle yet.”
“That’s leaving it a bit late. The ball will be starting in a few hours.”
Callie stood, looked frantically around, pivoted toward the exit. “I need to consult the magazines Julia left in my room.”
Without waiting for the widow’s response, she hurried out of the office and strode quickly through the winding corridors. She desperately needed the sanctuary of her own room, where she could sort through the chaotic thoughts running around in her head. Reese had chosen her.
He’d chosen her for his bride.
But...why hadn’t he made his decision known to her? He’s had weeks.
What could he hope to gain by not informing her of his intentions?
So focused on puzzling out his strange behavior, she nearly tripped over the cat trotting beside her. Fluffy tail pointed straight up in the air, Lady Macbeth barely swerved out of the way.
Callie smiled down at the skittering cat. “Seeking escape, are you?”
The spooked animal darted in front of her feet once again. Prepared for the move, she redirected her steps, skirting disaster by less than a foot.
Lady Macbeth rushed ahead of her, pausing at her bedroom door. The moment she twisted the doorknob, the cat shoved inside and dashed under the bed.
Callie didn’t blame her for wanting to get away from the household commotion. For three days straight, Mrs. Singletary’s home had turned into a hive of activity in preparation for her annual charity ball.
Vast quantities of people came and went throughout the day, bringing with them large amounts of food, an assortment of desserts, flower arrangements and who knew what else.
Rugs had been rolled up and tucked away in the attic. The floor in the main ballroom had been waxed and polished, twice. Buffet tables had been set up in several rooms on both the main and second levels of the house.
Aside from the outside help, Laney Dupree had also put Mrs. Singletary’s staff to work on the decorations, including Callie. Her fingers were numb from polishing scores of silver candlesticks, dishes and
serving trays.
As the widow’s companion, Callie would be expected to act as one of the hostesses this evening. Until then, she would enjoy a bit of solitude. She quickly shut her bedroom door and clicked the lock in place.
“It’s safe to come out now.”
Lady Macbeth peered out from under the bed, gave Callie a narrow-eyed glare then dashed back into her hiding place.
“Can’t say I blame you, you’re out of harm’s way under there, might as well stay put.”
That way Callie wouldn’t have to worry about tripping over the skittish animal as she took to pacing. Her heart overflowing with emotion, she tracked around the perimeter of the room.
Reese was actually courting her. How had she not made the connection? The gentleness, the sweet, affectionate attentiveness, all spoke of a man wooing the woman he preferred above all others.
She wanted to be his bride, so very much, but only if he loved her. She didn’t want him to propose because he deemed her suitable according to some list he’d drawn up as he would a legal brief.
She wanted his heart, all of it, and would settle for nothing less. Unfortunately, he’d given the bulk of it away already, when he was more boy than man. I’ve already loved once in my life. Once was enough.
Oh, Reese.
Callie spun in a tight circle, retraced her steps, maneuvering around the furniture when necessary. She knew Reese cared for her, but that wasn’t the same as love.
The fact that Callie refused to settle for second best in his heart was really his own fault. He’d taught her to accept her worth as a cherished child of God.
“Typical man. He’s ruined everything. Everything.”
Marching over to her writing table, she yanked open the drawer and pulled out the portrait she’d painted of her and Reese. She’d titled the picture Bride and Groom.
Wishful thinking. If Reese proposed and she refused him, would he marry someone else? The thought was a black stain upon her heart.
“Callie? Are you in there?” A rapid knocking sounded at the door. “Do let me in, dear. I’m worried about you.”
Sighing, she carefully set the painting on her desk. She should have known Mrs. Singletary would follow her after that hasty departure. The widow was nothing if not perceptive.
