She considered fixing a meal at home and inviting Luke to join her and Serena, but she knew her daughter would be let down. Serena loved going out—loved going anywhere.
“Does he have a little girl?” Serena asked, catching Callie’s full attention with the tremulous note of hope in her voice.
“No, honey,” Callie said softly, leaving the computer to join Serena at the window. “He doesn’t.” The glass was smudged with nose and handprints. Beyond it, Luke’s late-model, mud-splattered truck gleamed in the sunlight.
The expression on Serena’s round face was heartrending. “Do you think he wants one?”
Callie stroked Serena’s bangs back from her forehead and considered carefully before speaking. “Are you thinking of volunteering for the job?”
Serena’s sudden burst of laughter was a profound relief to Callie. “No, silly-mom,” she said. “I’m your little girl.”
“You sure are,” Callie confirmed, cupping Serena’s face in her hands and planting a noisy kiss on her forehead. “And don’t you forget it.” Looking up, and still a little unsettled, Callie saw Luke coming out of the barn, moving toward the house.
“Here he comes!” Serena cried. “He’s handsome, Mom.”
Luke was handsome, Callie thought, watching his approach. As a boy, he’d been a heartthrob. As a man, he was—more so. And more of everything else, too.
At home in his own skin. Quietly confident. And quite probably the most intelligent man she’d ever known.
Callie swallowed and left the window, intending to open the door.
Serena beat her to it, though, and bounded out onto the small back porch. “Hello!” she shouted. “My name is Serena and I’m seven years old and next Friday my whole class is coming to see our horse!”
Luke stopped in the middle of the yard, took off his hat and grinned. “Howdy, Serena,” he said. “My name is Luke and I’m thirty-two years old and I think your class is going to be real impressed with old Cherokee.”
“Mom says she’s fresh out of slinky black cocktail dresses,” Serena chimed in merry apology. “So she’s just wearing jeans.”
Luke chuckled at that and shifted his gaze from Serena to Callie, now standing behind her daughter, and blushing again. “She looks all right to me,” Luke said. “More than all right, as a matter of fact.”
Callie was foolishly pleased by the remark—and troubled by the way it made her feel inside. She was a positive person, and regularly did six impossible things before breakfast, like any single mother, but making too much of an invitation to supper would be a major mistake. Luke had a thriving veterinary practice, she was a waitress and part-time jewelry maker. Best keep things in perspective.
“How’s Cherokee doing?” she asked.
“He’s fine,” Luke replied.
“Are we going to Happy Dan’s for supper?” Serena asked.
Luke grinned, advancing toward them again. “No,” he said.
“McDonald’s?” Serena queried.
“Nope.” By then, Luke was standing at the base of the porch steps. He put out a hand to Serena, and they shook. “My place. I thought we could have a barbecue on the patio. But if you’d rather go to McDonald’s—”
“No,” Serena interjected quickly. “Do you have a horse?”
Callie laid a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, squeezed lightly.
“Couple dozen of them, actually,” Luke said modestly. “A few dogs, too.”
“Maybe I’d better take my own car,” Callie interjected, watching the interaction between Luke and Serena and pondering the bittersweet feelings it aroused in her. “Just so you won’t have to drive all the way back out here.”
Luke’s gaze was steady as it rose to Callie’s face. “Sure,” he said. “Makes sense.”
Callie nodded, relieved. Serena, on the other hand, was disappointed.
“If this is a date,” the child whispered, loudly enough for the neighbors to hear, never mind Luke, “aren’t you supposed to ride in his car?”
Luke chuckled again, raised his eyebrows a little.
“I’m just being practical,” Callie told Serena. And Luke.
Luke led the way to his place, Callie and Serena following in the Blazer, although Callie could have found the gracious old farm in her sleep. Spacious green pastures with white rail fences bordered the road, and the old-fashioned red barn was like something from a glossy calendar page. Beyond, at the end of a long, curving lane, stood the brick ranch house, modest but substantial.
A yellow Lab appeared, galloping down to the base of the driveway to wait for Luke to open the door of his truck and get out. When he did, the dog greeted him with a series of happy yips, and Luke ruffled the animal’s ears.
Callie parked behind Luke’s truck, shut off the engine.
“Don’t be scared,” she told Serena. “I’m sure the dog is friendly.”
“I’m not scared,” Serena said indignantly, and before Callie could do more than put the gear shift in Park and shut off the engine, the little girl was out of her seat belt and on her way to join Luke and the Lab.
Callie hurried after her daughter. “Serena—”
“Serena,” Luke said, “meet Bodine. Bodine, Serena.”
“Bodine?” Callie echoed.
“Bodine Martin,” Luke confirmed with a half smile. “She looks more like a ‘Betsy’ to me, but she answers to Bodine, so that’s what I call her.”
Bodine sat on her haunches, looked adoringly into Serena’s delighted face and licked her cheek.
“Bodine!” Serena whooped. “Bodine Martin!”
Luke chuckled again.
“She likes to repeat things,” Callie explained.
“Most kids do,” Luke said.
“Have you—have you heard from the Martins?” Callie asked. They’d abandoned Bodine, and Cherokee, too, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be back.
“No,” Luke answered. “It’s not likely that I will.” He turned to Serena, who was fully occupied with the dog. “How about a tour of the barn before we eat?”
Serena was enthusiastic.
Callie had always admired the Banner ranch—unlike her own place, it exuded sunny grace. The house and barn and other outbuildings, though old, were well maintained, and the fields where oceans of wheat had flourished in Luke’s grandfather’s time were grassy pastures now.
As Luke, Callie, Serena and Bodine approached the barn, a teenage girl in jeans and a flattering pink T-shirt came through the doors, dusting her hands together.
“Finished for the day, Dr. Banner,” she told Luke, after sparing friendly smiles for Callie and Serena and patting Bodine on top of the head. “Unless you want me to do some filing in the office or something.”
No introductions were necessary—Kristen Young had lived in Parable all her life, and the previous summer, she’d washed dishes and bussed tables at Happy Dan’s. Pretty and intelligent, Kristen was an animal lover and an accomplished horsewoman. In fact, she was already considered a front-runner for that year’s rodeo queen title.
“You can go,” Luke told the girl. “Thanks, Kris.”
Serena stared at Kristen with a fascination heretofore reserved for the dog—or Luke. She and Kristen had gotten to know each other at Happy Dan’s, since Serena spent most of her time there with Callie when school was out.
Kristen favored the child with another smile, warm and genuine. Some people, especially younger ones, were uncomfortable around Serena, but that had never been the case with Kristen. “How’s it going, kiddo?” she asked.
“We’ve got a horse now,” Serena confided. “Next Friday afternoon, my whole entire class is coming to our house to see him.”
“Wow,” Kristen said. “The whole bunch, huh?”
Serena nodded solemnly.
“Awesome,” Kristen said. Her sea-blue gaze turned to Callie. “If you need a baby-sitter or anything, I’m available. This whole rodeo-queen thing is costing me a bundle.”
“It costs mon
ey to be a rodeo queen?” Serena asked, wide-eyed.
“A fortune,” Kristen replied.
“Oh,” Serena said, looking a little deflated.
“I might need a sitter once in a while,” Callie said, mostly to change the subject. When she had to work outside school hours, she took Serena to Happy Dan’s with her. “I’ll call you.”
“Great!” Kristen said. Then she ruffled Serena’s hair, said goodbye to Luke and Callie, and headed for her old car, parked next to the barn.
“It costs money to be a rodeo queen?” Serena repeated, looking up at Callie with her heart in her eyes.
“Yes,” Callie said gently.
Serena bit her lower lip and looked down at the ground.
At a loss, Callie simply laid a hand on the child’s shoulder.
A short silence followed. Bodine nudged Serena with her muzzle, making her giggle, then started through the barn door and doubled back.
“I think she wants to show you her puppies, Serena,” Luke said. “They’re just inside the barn door, to the right.”
Serena perked right up at the mention of puppies.
Callie, watching Luke’s face, felt a mingling of gratitude and good-natured annoyance. Bodine’s babies were still too young to be weaned, but the time would come when they needed good homes, and Callie knew he was hoping she and Serena would adopt one.
Serena squealed with delight when she saw the small yellow bundles of fur gamboling in an old playpen, mostly ears and paws, their eyes barely open.
“How come they’re in jail?” Serena asked Luke. “Did they do something bad?”
Luke grinned and lowered one of the rails on the side of the playpen, so Bodine could get in. Immediately, she lay down and the puppies nestled close to nurse.
“They’re not in jail, honey,” Luke said quietly, crouching in front of Serena to look directly into her eyes. “But they’re little, and apt to wander off and get themselves in trouble. This way, Bodine can keep them all rounded up in one place.”
“Can I touch them?” Serena asked.
“Sure,” Luke answered.
Serena’s whole countenance glowed with wonder as she reached through the bars of the playpen and gently stroked one of the puppies, then another.
Callie watched, stricken with love for her child. In that moment, she yearned to make the world safe for Serena, to make it kind and just and pure.
All the things she knew it wasn’t.
She was a little startled when Luke’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. Their gazes met.
“She’ll be fine,” Luke said.
Callie tried to smile. “Did you learn to read minds while you were away from home?” she asked.
“No,” Luke said. “Just eyes. And yours have always been pretty expressive.” He paused. “It’s good to be back, Callie. It’s really good to be back.”
Serena, fully engaged with Bodine and the puppies, let out a joyous giggle. “Back,” she echoed. “Back, back, back.” Then she turned her head and looked up at Callie, then Luke. “Back where?” she asked.
Luke didn’t look away from Callie’s face. “Home,” he answered.
CHAPTER
THREE
Saturday was a busy blur, spent doing housework and laundry and filling jewelry orders, with Serena’s help.
Sunday morning at work, Hal and all the other regulars wanted a report on Callie’s Friday night “date” with Luke. Protesting that it hadn’t been a date, just a very pleasant evening with a good friend, proved fruitless right away, so she gave up and stayed busy serving breakfast specials.
After the puppy fest and the tour of the barn, during which Serena had insisted on being personally introduced to every horse, in every stall, the three of them had gone up to the house. Luke had washed up at the kitchen sink, while Serena and Callie did the same in a nearby powder room, and then they’d shared an ordinary, delicious supper on the backyard patio.
Serena had been particularly taken with one of Luke’s horses, a little spotted Shetland pony named Mahjong. She’d begged for a ride all through supper, and after being assured the animal was gentle, Callie gave her permission.
Once the remains of their supper had been cleared away, they’d all gone back to the barn, and Luke had led Mahjong out of his stall, along the breezeway and into a grassy area nearby.
He’d set Serena carefully on Mahjong’s back.
Seeing the expression on her daughter’s face, Callie had let out her breath. Serena had been luminous, transported. She hadn’t even ridden the pony, really, just sat there on its sturdy back, clinging to its mane with both hands and beaming. And she’d talked nonstop about the experience, too, all the way home from Luke’s, all through her bath, even in her prayers.
When the little girl finally dropped off to sleep, happily exhausted, Callie went out to check on Cherokee, making sure he had hay and water, and then just keeping company with him for a while. Finally, she returned to the house.
She’d spent the rest of the evening online, searching for a riding program like the one the Greenbergs had started, in memory of their daughter. There were several—but all of them were too far from Parable for Serena to participate on a regular basis.
“What’s on your mind, Callie?” a gentle male voice asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Callie realized she’d been woolgathering and brought herself back to the here-and-now—the breakfast/lunch shift at Happy Dan’s Café. Hal was smiling at her from his usual stool at the corner.
Business was a little slow that morning, because it was Sunday, and the rush wouldn’t start until after the various church services around town let out at noon. Callie had already wiped down all the tables, refilled all the napkin holders and the salt and pepper shakers, taken and served the orders from the few customers.
“How hard is it to start a nonprofit organization, Hal?” Callie asked, refilling his coffee cup.
“Hard enough,” Hal said. “Why?”
She told him about the Greenbergs, and Cherokee, and how happy Serena had been, “riding” Mahjong at Luke’s the night before.
“First thing you’ve gotta do,” Happy Dan put in, setting a large, empty jar on the counter, next to the cash register, “is raise money. A program like that costs a pile to start.”
Callie sighed.
Happy Dan scribbled something on the back of a page torn from Callie’s order pad and rummaged behind the counter until he came up with a roll of tape.
“What you need,” Hal said to Callie, “is a free lawyer.”
“Now, where would she find one of those?” Happy Dan asked, giving one of his rare smiles. He’d clearly been eavesdropping, but he was so eager to help that Callie couldn’t fault him for it.
Hal straightened the lapels of his outdated suit, fiddled with the knot in his too-wide tie. “Right here,” he said.
Happy Dan taped the piece of paper to the jar.
Callie squinted and read what he’d written.
Give. So Kids Like Serena Can Ride Horses.
Her throat tightened. Her boss could be brusque, but deep down, he was kind, always eager to help where possible.
There were only two customers in the café at the moment, besides Hal—a pair of truck drivers passing through. They paid their checks, and each of them dropped a five dollar bill into the jar.
“See?” Dan said when they’d gone. “You’ve already got ten bucks.”
“My problems are solved,” Callie joked.
“Where’s Serena this morning?” Hal asked.
“Luke came by the house early, with Kristen, and asked if Serena could help out at the clinic for a little while.”
Hal and Happy Dan both looked surprised. Callie was still a little surprised herself, actually. Not by Luke’s invitation, but by her own willingness to let Serena out of her sight that long.
Happy Dan gave a low whistle of exclamation. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he marveled.
“What day?” Cal
lie asked, bristling a little.
“The day when you’d let that kid be a kid,” Dan replied. “Most of the time, you act like she’s made out of eggshells or something.”
“They’ll be back here by lunchtime,” Callie said, peevish.
“Don’t get all bent out of shape,” Dan said. “Luke wouldn’t let anything happen to Serena, and neither would Kristen. It’s about time you trusted somebody, that’s all I’m saying.”
Hal cleared his throat loudly, plopped his briefcase onto the counter and opened it, taking out a yellow legal pad and a pen. “Let’s get rolling with this riding program,” he said.
Happy Dan wasn’t through pontificating. He shook a finger under Callie’s nose. “It’s about time for another thing, too,” he went on. “You’re a young woman, Callie. You need a life.”
“I have a life. I have Serena.”
“For yourself.”
Hal cleared his throat again. “The riding program?” he prompted diplomatically. “By my estimate, we’ve got about half an hour before the Baptists and the Episcopalians get out, and the Catholics won’t be far behind them. The whole bunch will be hungry as bears, and pretty cranky, too, especially if the sermons run long. So why don’t we get started?”
“You’ve gotta have insurance,” Happy Dan said.
“We’ll start small,” Hal decided, and scribbled something on the legal pad.
Callie blinked.
“Volunteers, too,” Dan added. “People who know something about kids with special needs—and horses.”
Callie blew, and her bangs bounced off her forehead. “Look, maybe this is getting out of hand. I just wanted—”
“Things like this have got to start somewhere,” Hal said. “Might as well be right here.”
By the time the first Baptists trickled in, Callie was knee-deep in a dream she’d never even considered before Luke told her about Jeanne Greenberg and SARI.
The brunch rush was in full swing when Luke came in with Serena and Kristen. He spotted the jar on the counter right away and tossed Callie a quizzical grin. Serena and Kristen took the last empty booth.
More Than Words Volume 4 Page 4
