A Heart Healed

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A Heart Healed Page 3

by Jennifer Johnson


  “Mom.” A knot formed in Kirk’s throat as he wrapped one arm around his mother and the other around Pamela. Concern for them and Callie nearly took his breath away as he held them and a slight sniffle sounded from his mother. He swallowed back the knot in his throat. “Mom, what did she go through? Why did she leave?”

  His mother moved out of his embrace, grabbed a tissue and dotted her eyes. She peered up at Kirk. “Son, I don’t know.” She shook her head and looked out the kitchen window. “A couple weeks ago, I met her while she was kneeling in front of her mother’s grave. When she looked up at me, I saw a deep-to-the-core sadness.” She tapped her chest as she gazed back at Kirk. “And, I knew in my spirit that God wanted us to help her.”

  Kirk scratched his chin with his finger and thumb. “But what did she say?”

  Mom shook her head. “She didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to talk about it. Oh, she said a few things, like having to work really hard when she left, but I have no idea what the girl has really been doing these last five years.”

  Kirk thought a moment. “She did say that Bill was her dad’s nephew, and that she’d never met him before that week.”

  “Maybe she reunited with her dad,” Pamela said.

  His mother put down her strawberry and knife once again, wiped off her hands then touched Pamela and Kirk’s arms. “I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter what’s happened in the past. She’ll let us know all that when the time is right. What she needs right now is for us to love on her a bit.”

  Kirk pursed his lips and nodded. Loving her wouldn’t be an issue. He’d never stopped loving her. Trusting her, being around her day after day, being willing to be hurt by her again—now those things might be a bit of a problem.

  * * *

  Callie had promised God and herself that when she returned to Bloom Hollow she would read scripture, even if only a little bit, every morning. In her excitement at the sunrise and the promise of seeing the animals, she had forgotten and now it was almost time for the school group to visit. She didn’t have time to race back to the cabin now. God, I’m sorry. You’ve given me this new start, and I want my focus to be on You.

  Her mind traveled to the inspiring sunrise she’d witnessed that morning. Her thoughts and heart had been lifted in praise at His majesty and she knew her spirit encouraged her, and that she had worshipped Him and was forgiven.

  “I can hardly wait for the children to come,” Callie said to Ben as she allowed the goat to eat a bit of food from her palm.

  “Not me,” Ben huffed. “The kids drive me crazy. They climb on the fences, pull at the animals. They scream and yell and make a big mess.” He pointed at his chest. “A mess that little brother Ben always seems to get assigned to clean up.”

  Callie laughed.

  Ben waggled his eyebrows. “Hey, but you’re the new Ben. Maybe, I’ll pass that job on to you.”

  Callie placed her hand over her heart. “I would be honored to have the job of cleaning up after the kiddos. It will be a wonderful change from what I’ve been doing.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  “Stuff that is a lot worse.”

  “Really?”

  “And dirtier.” Callie paused and sucked in a deep breath. “And harder.”

  Ben seemed to understand her need to change the subject because he grabbed her shoulders, gave her a little shake then rubbed the top of her head with his knuckles, forming a rat’s nest on the top of her head. “Then it’s official. Callie gets to clean up.”

  She swatted his hand then raked her fingers through her hair. “You big goob.”

  He shrugged away, laughing. Callie knew, without a doubt, God had called her back to Bloom Hollow, Tennessee. And it felt good to be home.

  * * *

  Kirk watched Callie as she led the small group of children around the petting zoo. The group was one of the smaller ones, only two grades from the local elementary school. It was a great start for Callie. She stopped in front of the goat. One of the smaller boys walked up to old Tom and tried to kick his back leg while an older girl tried to pet his nose, but Callie kept control of the situation by scooping up the youngster in one arm and helping the girl with the other. Old Tom was saved from mistreatment.

  “Let’s head over to the sheep.” Callie’s voice carried through the air. A smile never left her face as she guided a timid girl in petting the animal.

  Finished with the animals, Callie guided the group to the playground area constructed several years before by Kirk, his brother and his dad. He grinned as she slid down the curving slide with the rascal of a boy who tried to kick the goat. The little guy then led her to the seesaw, and on to the merry-go-round.

  “Will you play with me, Uncle Kirk?” He looked down at the big, doe-like eyes of his younger niece.

  “Sure, Emmy. Just lead the way.”

  She clapped her hands and headed straight for the merry-go-round. “Uncle Kirk will push us,” she hollered.

  Surprise and a twinge of pink dotted Callie’s cheeks as she got off the merry-go-round and swiped at her pant legs.

  “No, stay with me, Miss Callie,” the little guy yelled.

  Kirk motioned to an empty spot on the ride. “If you don’t hurry, you’ll lose it.”

  Callie sat and wrapped one arm around the bar and the other around the little boy. Kirk relished the pure pleasure that marked her face as he pushed the ride.

  “I think I’m gonna get sick,” the boy moaned as he nodded his head back and forth, up and down.

  Kirk stopped the merry-go-round, hoping to get the kid off before he threw up all over the place. A hacking sound escaped his lips and he vomited all over Callie’s shirt and pants. As good-natured as she’d always been, Callie shrugged and laughed as she handed the kid over to a chaperone. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’m so sorry,” the chaperone said as she pulled tissues from her purse, handing some to Callie and wiping off the child at the same time.

  “No, really.” She handed the tissues back to the woman and pointed to the cabin. “I live over there. I can go clean up quickly.” She looked up at Kirk, her gaze darting from him to the chaperone.

  Kirk snapped back to the present. “You can take him to the B and B. My mother can get you some towels to clean him up.”

  “Thanks.” The woman seemed overwhelmed as she and the boy headed to the house. Callie started toward the cabin when Ben raced over to her. “Told you it was messy.”

  Kirk chuckled as she acted as if she were going to give Ben a hug and he ran away.

  A long sigh escaped his lips. He’d have never dreamed it would feel so nice to see Callie on the farm again. He hadn’t given himself time to take it in when he first saw her, but Callie had changed.

  She still had her long, flowing blond hair and her crystal-blue eyes. Beautiful as ever. And she was still a small slip of a woman, but she was just that—a woman. Her father’s desertion and her mother’s death had taken a lot out of her all those years ago, but his mom was right, more had happened. She was calm and happy as she’d been before, but Kirk noted she was reserved, as well, almost as if a wall separated her from other people.

  “Oh, no, where’s Timmy?” The frustrated sound of the same chaperone, laced with a bit of fear, broke Kirk from his thoughts.

  “He’s not on the playground?”

  The woman scanned the area again. “I cleaned him up and told him he could come back here while I washed my hands.” She bit her bottom lip. “But I don’t see him.”

  “He couldn’t have gone far.”

  “You don’t know Timmy.”

  A quick sense of dread washed over him at the woman’s words. He glanced from the petting area to the B and B

  and around the expanse of the yard. “Ben, we’ve got a kiddo missing.”
/>   “On it.” Ben raced toward the barn to be sure the little rascal hadn’t wandered in there. Kirk headed toward the house.

  “Kirk, come quick!” Tammie yelled.

  Kirk ran to the fence behind the B and B and the cabin. The boy who’d vomited on Callie lay on the ground with a huge, bleeding gash on his right arm below his elbow. His face had paled as tears streamed down his cheeks.

  The chaperone reached them a moment after Kirk. She covered her mouth with her hand. “I can’t do blood.” Without another word, the woman collapsed to the ground, making the boy sob harder.

  “Here, I got him.” A cleaned-up Callie now stood behind him. “Make sure the woman is okay.”

  Shocked, Kirk stood still while his mother helped the lady and Callie took over with the boy.

  “Okay, Timmy, Miss Callie’s going to make it all better.” She plopped a bag beside him and pulled out cotton and antiseptic wipes to clean the wound.

  “Looks like he’ll need stitches,” Tammie said as she soothed the boy’s mom.

  “Oh,” the woman moaned as if about to vomit, while the boy wailed at the top of his lungs.

  “I think I can butterfly it.” Callie pulled strips out of the bag. “Kirk, could you hold Timmy from behind? That may make him feel better.”

  Callie wiped Timmy’s brow and cheek with the back of her hand while Kirk sat behind the boy. “There now, Timmy. It will be all right.”

  Kirk gently maneuvered the boy into his lap while Callie finished dressing his cut. He was surprised at the ease with which Callie worked, as if she’d done it many times before. His curiosity piqued.

  “Looks like we got a few splinters to deal with, as well.” Callie pointed to the child’s right hand.

  Kirk bit back a gasp. No less than fifty small slivers of wood had pierced the boy’s hand. “How in the world?” Kirk glanced behind him. The boy must have tried to climb the barbed-wire fence by supporting himself against the wooden post. He shook his head. Well, the boy wouldn’t try climbing barbed wire again.

  “You ready?” Callie nodded at Kirk. She held a pair of tweezers in her hand.

  “Sure.”

  “Okay. Here we go.”

  For the next hour or more, Kirk watched as Callie patiently and meticulously removed one splinter after another. Every once in a while Timmy whimpered and Callie soothed him with calming words and tones. Kirk had never seen her so confident, so self-assured, so capable.

  Again, he watched the change in Callie. Despite her mutterings of tenderness to the child, he felt her disconnect from true emotion. Though she might resist, he intended to find out what had happened to her. Her body returned to Bloom Hollow, but Callie was still missing. He intended to find her. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go.

  Chapter 4

  Callie nudged Ben’s arm as they walked into the house for dinner. “What was that you said about the new help having to clean up after the kiddos?”

  Ben blew out an exaggerated breath. “It ain’t right. Even after Mom hires some help, I still get stuck cleaning up paper cups and napkins, chewed gum and candy wrappers, wiping down play equipment and taking out trash.” He threw up his hands. “I don’t know what a guy’s gotta do to move out of custodial services in this joint.”

  Callie laughed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tammie shaking her head at her dramatic son. Callie lifted one eyebrow and squinted. “I’d have been happy to switch jobs. You could have picked out splinters for an hour and a half, cleaned blood—”

  Ben raised his hands. “Oh, no. Those jobs can be left to you. I’d have been lying on the ground beside that boy’s chaperone if I’d had to take care of him.”

  Mike patted his son’s shoulders. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

  Kirk walked through the back screen door and took off his ball cap. Callie’s heartbeat sped up at the sight of his disheveled hat head. In the past, she’d have teased him while she ruffled some life back into his hair. “Makes no sense to me. The boy can birth a calf or mend any kind of wound on an animal without blinking an eye, but a person—”

  “Can’t take no people blood,” said Ben as he sat at the table.

  Tammie clicked her tongue. “That’s enough talk about injuries. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

  The family sat, and Callie noticed they’d left the same chair she used to sit in open for her. Nostalgia washed over her as she slipped into the seat. Swallowing back her emotions, she bowed her head while Mike offered a quick prayer. Emma chattered about her kindergarten class while the family passed the large bowls of mixed salad, baked spaghetti and garlic bread. It was one of her favorite meals, and Callie knew Tammie had fixed it for her.

  Thankful for Emma’s ramblings, Callie sucked in a deep breath. Years had passed since she’d felt part of a family. She tried to remember the last time someone had fixed a dinner for her. Probably at this very house. She studied her plate, afraid to look up. This was what she wanted. What she’d dreamed for. Even though she hadn’t realized how much she longed for it. Family. Home. Her chest swelled. It was almost too much.

  “What’s for dessert, Mom?”

  She grinned as she looked up and saw Mike tap Tammie’s hand. She’d always thought it cute how they called each other “Mom” and “Dad.”

  “Pamela’s homemade strawberry pie.”

  Callie sighed along with the family’s mumblings of approval. Pamela’s strawberry pie was melt-in-your-mouth good. A perfect blend of sweet and tart with crust so flaky a girl couldn’t help but lick her finger and press it to the plate to be sure to get every last crumb.

  Taking another bite of her salad, Callie smiled as she watched the family interact. Ben and Mike discussed something about one of the animals, while Pamela prompted Emmy to eat more of her spaghetti and Emma continued to share every detail about her day with Tammie. Callie swallowed the bite as she realized Kirk’s gaze was locked on her.

  “So, where’d you learn to fix people up like that, Cals?”

  Hearing Ben use her nickname was one thing, but coming from Kirk’s lips was something altogether different. She clasped her hands under the table as she looked at Kirk. His gaze held questions. More than she wanted to answer, at least right now. “I didn’t do anything that great. Just taped up a cut and pulled out a few splinters.”

  She realized the chatter had ceased around the table and all attention stayed on her. She lowered her gaze to her plate then took a bite of spaghetti, hoping they’d go back to their conversations.

  “No. I’d say it was a bit more than that.”

  Callie glanced back at Kirk. Picking up her napkin, she dabbed her mouth. She knew him. He wasn’t going to let it go. “Well, I have worked as a nurse for a few years.”

  “You got your nursing degree?”

  Callie looked at Pamela and remembered her longing to go to school, but Jack had been unstable and Emma had come along so quickly. A pang of sorrow washed over her for Kirk’s sister. “It’s not easy when you’re trying to take care of family, but it can be done. I promise. I—”

  “You say that like you know what it’s like.”

  Callie focused on Kirk again. She’d almost said more than she wanted. She didn’t want to talk about her dad. Sure, the family would gush over her. They’d say they understood and be sweet and kind. But she wasn’t ready for all that. Didn’t want pity. She wanted closure. To move on with her life.

  Determined not to comment, she took a swallow of the sweet tea then stabbed her salad again.

  “What kind of nursing did you do? Work in a hospital? A doctor’s office?” asked Mike.

  Callie stared at her plate. “Actually, I worked for hospice. I traveled to the homes of patients and made them comfortable before they died.”

  Pamela gasped. Callie knew
it sounded morbid. To a degree, it was very morbid. But a part of her had been thankful to help people in their last days and hours. To give them peace. Show them love. But she’d slipped away from her relationship with God, and after a few years, death had become her existence. Had robbed her of joy.

  Tammie rested her hand on top of Callie’s. “Those people were blessed to have you, Callie. You’re one of the kindest people I know.”

  Callie nodded as she thought of her last patient. She missed Frank’s sweet smile and kind heart. He never failed to make her day when she stopped by to check his vitals and give him medicine. Despite his chronic pain from congestive heart failure and emphysema, he made sure to tell her she was beautiful, that he wanted nothing more than to sweep her off her feet. His faith had been a light to her. When he died, it was as if all the light in her life went out. She knew she needed to find God again.

  “What about that Bill? Your father’s nephew. Why did he come to Bloom Hollow?”

  Kirk’s question brought Callie back to the present. She pushed away from the table. She wasn’t ready to go there. Not to Bill, his dad or her father. Not now, anyway. “I’m feeling really tired. Haven’t recovered from traveling, I suppose. I think I’m going to head on over to the cabin.”

  “What about pie?” asked Emma. “It’s so good.”

  Callie smiled at the sweet urchin. “Make sure they save me a piece, okay?”

  Emma nodded, and Callie excused herself and walked out the screen door.

  “Give her a little time, son. She’ll talk to us when she’s ready.”

  Mike’s voice followed her across the porch. She wished Kirk would listen to his father, though she figured he wouldn’t. For five years he was willing to pretend she was dead. Now he wanted to know all that had happened in the time she’d been gone. But Kirk Jacobs had given up any rights to know anything about her life since he’d decided to kill her off in his mind. He should have gone after her.

 

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