* * *
“Kirk, you’re only going to make things worse. She needs time.”
Kirk shrugged away from his mother’s hold on his arm. “You’ve invited her back into our home, into our lives. The least she can do is tell us what sent her skipping out of town.”
His mother narrowed her gaze and planted both hands on her hips. “I didn’t ask with strings attached, son.” She pointed toward the cabin. “If you have eyes at all, you can tell she’s had a rough go-around. She needs some time. She’ll open it—”
“I’m tired of y’all telling me to give her space. She’s been here a week. She’s had space. She left us—” he extended his arm to include everyone at the table
“—all of us, high and dry, without an explanation of any kind. No goodbyes. She just left.” Done with talking, he pushed through the screen door.
“Thing aren’t always as simple as they appear, Kirk.”
He jumped off the back porch then turned and peered up at his mother. “You shouldn’t have hired her without asking the rest of us. You’re not the only one throwing your whole life into this land.”
Without a backward glance, Kirk stomped to the old cabin. Conviction niggled at his heart, and he knew when he left Callie, he’d have to head back to the main house to give his mom a whopping of an apology. He forged ahead. Right now, he couldn’t think about that. He needed to find out why Callie left and why she never once contacted him.
In one motion, he hopped onto the small deck and pushed open the front door. Callie gasped, and Kirk realized she’d released her long, straight blond locks from their knot. The mass of her hair drifted past her left shoulder, and the memory of its full softness washed over him. Fury filled her gaze and she pointed to the door. “Get out, Kirk.”
He planted his feet on the hardwood and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “No.”
“You have no right to walk into someone’s house, and—”
“This is my house. I pay the taxes on it. I take care of it.”
His gaze took in the shiny hardwood floors, the whitewashed walls and the blue curtains. The furnishings were sparse, a blue-and-white checkered couch, a blue wingback chair, a simple wood table with two chairs, but it was cleaner than he’d seen it in years. His parents had done a great job preparing it for Callie. Above the table, he spied the painting of a young woman and a horse. Callie’d had that picture for as long as he knew her. He wasn’t sure why she liked it so much. It really wasn’t all that pretty.
She stepped toward him until her small frame was only inches from his. Her hands were drawn into fists at her sides as she speared him with a look of utter contempt. “I am paying for this cabin by the work I am doing on this farm, and I am telling you to leave my home.”
“No. Not until you tell me why you left. You owe me that.”
“I owe you nothing. You broke it off, remember? We weren’t dating. You had spoken maybe five words to me in two months.”
Kirk swallowed. He hated himself for that. She couldn’t fathom how many nights he’d beat himself to a pulp over his stupidity. She was all he’d ever wanted, and he’d let her go. “What about my family? You didn’t even say goodbye to them.”
Pain flashed across her features, and Kirk strengthened his resolve. He had her there. “That was wrong of me. I wish I could change that.”
There she was, the Callie he knew and loved. The one who cared about his family. She hadn’t admitted to caring about him, but surely she did. He couldn’t possibly have been alone in how much he loved her.
He started to uncross his arms. If he wrapped her up in a hug, she’d settle down. All would be well. She’d forgive him for breaking up with her, tell him what happened and he’d forgive her for leaving.
She poked his chest with her finger. “Get out of my home, Kirk.”
“Why did you leave?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business. Tell me why. Where did you go? Who were you with? I can forgive you and we can move on if you’ll just tell me—”
“You can forgive me!” Callie walked away from him and grabbed her cell phone off the table. “I’m giving you five seconds to leave this cabin before I call the police.”
“Now, Callie.”
“Kirk, I have papers, drawn up and legal, which say I’m paying to live here. You can leave the easy way or the hard way.”
“I just want you to tell me what happened. You owe—”
“For the last time, I owe you nothing.” She pointed to the door. “Get out.”
Anger and frustration warred within him as he stomped out of the house. Why was she being so difficult? Was she hiding something? Another guy? God, all she has to do is tell me what happened. I don’t think I’m asking so much. We dated all through high school. She’s the only woman I’ve loved. Why is caring about where she’s been so wrong?
God seemed quiet as he made his way to the small house he shared with his brother. By the time he’d reached the porch, he realized that his dad rocked in the chair out front. He stood to his full height, and Kirk knew twenty-five years from now he’d be the spitting image of the man. Salt-and-pepper hair, worn skin from hours in the sun, but a strong back and working hands. “I reckon you and I need to walk on back to the main house together.”
Guilt resurfaced in the pit of his gut. He knew what his dad wanted. An apology for his mom. Kirk nodded. “I imagine you’re right.”
His dad stepped of the porch and wrapped his arm around Kirk’s shoulder. “Your mom will forgive you, but I don’t ever want to hear you speak like that to her again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kirk followed his dad back to the house. A few yards away, his dad stopped and turned toward Kirk. “I know you want Callie to open up to you. But it really does take time, son. Remember when we first got Thunder?”
Kirk thought of the day they’d received the horse. He’d been abused, and as a result was angry and feisty, and it took time, a lot of time, to break him. Kirk nodded.
“I’m not saying Callie’s been abused. I don’t know what happened to her. But she’s hurting. And it’s going to take time and a gentle hand to win her over.”
Kirk thought of days he’d spent wooing Thunder to trust him, the nights he’d ask God for guidance because in his gut he knew Thunder would one day be a great horse. He’d had such patience with Thunder. Shown him so much love. He could do the same for Callie.
Chapter 5
Two weeks had passed since Callie threw him out of the cabin. School would be out for the summer in less than two weeks, which would decrease the traffic on the playground area and the petting zoo. But warmer temperatures had already arrived causing a consistent influx of customers for the bed-and-breakfast and their small lunch café. With farm chores to add to everything, he’d had no time to talk with Callie again. Course, it seemed to him she’d been avoiding him, anyway.
He pulled his prized black Ford F150 into the hardware store parking lot and turned off the engine. The tractor had broken down again. He planned to look at a few new ones after buying what he needed to fix Old Bertha. He’d have to twist his dad’s arm when it came time to get rid of the tractor for good. The old girl had been working the farm since before Kirk was born. But the time had nearly come for her to go to pasture in a junkyard somewhere. A man couldn’t spend two days of his week fixing antique farm equipment.
The tractor might have even been the reason he hadn’t been able to spend any time with Callie. She’d proven to be a great help to his mom and sister. And she didn’t seem to mind lending a hand with farm chores, even mending equipment, which he’d never been able to get Pamela to do. Still, when it came time to help, she stayed close to his dad or Ben. Against his will, he’d stayed close to Old Bertha.
He walked to the front of the st
ore. Before he could grab the handle, the door opened and an old high school friend walked out. “Hey Kirk, how’s it going?”
Kirk shook Zack’s hand. “Good. How ’bout you?”
He pointed toward the shop. “Greta’s got me building her a gazebo for the backyard. I came out to load the truck up with the wood while she paid. Not sure I want to know the damage.”
“I understand.”
“Hey, I hear Callie’s back in town.”
Kirk nodded. “She is. Working with us on the farm.”
“You two getting back together?”
Heat raced up Kirk’s neck and cheeks. Part of him wanted to say they were. The other part wanted to kick her back to wherever she’d been the past several years. He still loved her. No doubt about that. But she sure didn’t want anything to do with him, and having her around was like running through barbed wire each and every time he saw her.
Before he could answer, the door opened again, and Greta and her younger sister, Heather, walked out. A blush reddened Heather’s cheeks when she looked up at him. He knew she had a crush on him. Had for years. She was a bit homely. No sense trying to say it any other way, but she was as nice a girl as they came.
He nodded toward them. “Afternoon, ladies. Zack says you got him building you a gazebo, Greta.”
“Yeah. It will be nice to have to watch the birds and butterflies and all, but I thought it would also be a nice place for family and friends to sit and eat when we have a cookout.”
Kirk nodded. “Zack, I’ll have to come by and see how it looks when you get done. Might be something Mom would like to have.”
“Of course you should come by, Kirk.” Greta nudged Heather closer to him, and he watched as her face flushed even redder. “You could come for a cookout. I know your mom and sister are famous for their cooking, but Heather makes the best potato salad and coleslaw you’ll ever taste.” She glanced at Zack. “Doesn’t she, honey?”
Zack nodded. “It is pretty good.”
Kirk took a step back. “Why don’t I help you load the truck?”
Zack motioned him around the building. “That would be great.”
Kirk followed his friend to the truck around the side of the building. Within minutes, they’d loaded the wood, cement and other items. He noticed Greta and Heather stood beside the passenger’s door of the truck. He knew Greta was matchmaking, wanting him to open the door for them. Though tempted to pretend he didn’t notice, the manners his mom instilled in him won over, and he obliged. Greta hopped inside the cab and shimmied over toward the middle.
Heather was a bit shorter, so he offered his hand and she hopped into the seat. Her hand shook just a bit in his grasp and she lowered her gaze away from him. She really was a sweet girl. Painfully shy. A little backward. But she was a terrific cook. He knew as much from sampling her food at church fellowships. And she was a hard worker. She helped out with the cleaning and the nursery at the church. If he remembered right, she worked for the daycare downtown.
She’d make someone a good wife. Probably wouldn’t leave without a word then refuse to say where she’d been. Most likely wouldn’t act all feisty and put out whenever her husband wanted to talk. His life would be so easy if he could fall for a girl like Heather. She would take him as her husband. Cherish him for the rest of her life.
But he didn’t love Heather. She wasn’t Callie. He waved to Zack as he walked away from the truck and back toward the store. He was done playing games, walking on tiptoe, wondering if Callie was avoiding him.
After purchasing what he needed to fix Old Bertha, he hopped in the truck and headed back to the farm. Callie might not want to talk about what had happened and why she left, but that wouldn’t stop him from talking about what his life had been like without her.
Maybe that was what she needed. To hear him say he’d missed her. While they were dating, she’d always gone on and on about being a “words” kind of girl. Something about how she needed to hear him say he loved her, not just have him show it.
He’d never understood why she didn’t believe him after he’d said it the first time. He needed to be near her, to see her, to be able wrap her up in his arms. He didn’t need to hear her talk about it all the time.
Biting his bottom lip, he inhaled the mixture of cow manure and freshly cut grass, a scent he loved and longed for each spring. He never thought himself a man of words, but he sure did want to know why she’d gone away. It had to be something big, because it hurt him to the core of his being that she’d left him.
* * *
Callie slid her hand beneath the strap of the flat brush. She petted Princess’s nose then worked the brush down the chestnut quarter horse’s neck. Nudging close to the horse’s ear, she murmured, “I can’t begin to tell you how much I missed you, Princess.”
The horse whinnied and tossed her head gently to the side. Callie continued to brush the horse’s silky coat. She’d always been the prettiest of horses with her red chestnut coloring, white nose and white stockings that resembled knee-high socks on both of her back legs. Her mane was thick and heavy as ever. Callie patted the horse’s flank. “And you look as strong and healthy as the day I left you.”
“You can thank Kirk for that.”
Callie jumped and placed her hand against her chest at the sound of the male voice behind her. She turned and swatted his arm. “Ben Jacobs, you scared the life right out of me.”
Ben chuckled and lifted his hands in surrender. “What? A man can’t go into his own barn to do some chores?”
She narrowed her gaze. Ben sounded like his brother with the innocent, and yet oh-so-guilty, question. “Doesn’t mean you can sneak up on me.” She lifted the flat brush in the air. “What if I’d hauled off and hit you with this?”
Ben winked. “I think I could ward you off.”
She pursed her lips and stomped her foot trying to think of a comeback for his insolence. When none came, she sobered when she thought of Ben’s words when he’d first come in the barn. “Why’d he keep her alive?”
“She was his link to you.” Ben shrugged. “And he loves you.”
Callie shook her head. “No. He wrote me off as dead and never came for me.”
“That’s his pride taking over. You know that as well as I do.”
Pain and frustration twisted Callie’s gut, and she reached into a nearby bucket and scooped up a handful of oats. She pressed her hand to Princess’s mouth, allowing her to enjoy a treat. “How bad was the break?”
“It was pretty bad. Kirk spent several nights in the barn making sure she healed up.”
Ben walked closer to her, and Callie looked up at the boy who had been a gangly teenager when she left. Now, he had muscles covering those long arms and legs. He’d grown into his feet and his ball cap. And his eyes rivaled Kirk’s for their dark brown intensity. “Why don’t you take her for a walk?”
“I can ride her?”
Ben grabbed a saddle off the barn wall and placed it on Princess. “Take it easy on the girl. No racing through the fields, but she’s fine to take you out to the pond.”
Callie grinned. “How’d you know I’d want to go there?”
“Little brothers are notorious for following their big brothers around.” He nudged Callie’s arm. “Even when they’re fishing and stealing kisses from their girl.”
She punched his shoulder then slipped her foot into the stirrup. “You are a total sneak.”
He helped her onto the horse’s back. “That I am.” He patted Princess’s rump. “Now go enjoy the sunshine.”
The light May breeze blew through her hair, and Callie drank in God’s creation. The land shouted of rebirth. New leaves on the trees. Thick green grass from April’s watering. Wildflowers blooming in the fields.
The trees parted and she spied the pond. Their pond. How many d
ays had she and Kirk fished in this very spot? Or simply sat and talked, watching frogs hop along the edges? Or enjoyed kisses that must have been witnessed by his little brother?
Warmth raced up her cheeks, and Callie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t surprised Ben followed them. He’d always adored Kirk. Followed his every footstep.
She hopped off Princess and tied her to the same tree she’d tied her to more times than she could recall. Dozens upon dozens of times.
She walked to the bank of the pond, slipped off her shoe and touched the water with the tip of her toes. The last time she’d been here, she’d been alone. Just her and God. Not even Princess. She’d poured out her heart to the Lord, still saddened by her mother’s death, furious that her father had sent his nephew Bill to request that she go help him because he was sick.
Pushing back her hair with her fingertips, she covered her cheeks with both palms. I want to forgive him, God. Sometimes I do forgive him. Lay my feelings for him at Your feet. Then I take them back.
She shook her head, not wanting to think about her dad. God was her refuge in times of trouble. He’d proven it time and again. And He cares for those who trust in Him. The verse from Nahum that she’d memorized, spoken, whispered, muttered for the past five years filled her mind. God had never failed her. Not once.
Her mind replayed the first time she’d seen Kirk since returning to Bloom Hollow. His large frame had filled the room when he’d walked into the house. His stature had always taken her breath. Made her feel safe and secure. For a moment, she’d seen something in his gaze, maybe the love they’d once shared. Then his gaze had hardened, and he’d proclaimed that she was dead in his eyes.
She bit her bottom lip as his words suddenly struck her as funny. Ben was right. Kirk had as much pride as he did body. A man didn’t need that much. It would never do him much good. Only cause a lot of unnecessary pain.
He’d loved her once upon a time. She knew he had. She walked toward Princess and petted her nose. And maybe keeping her horse alive showed that he still loved her. But she wasn’t ready for all that. She was broken. Worn out. Weary to her core. And the only One who could help her was the Lord.
A Heart Healed Page 4
