More Than Words Volume 4

by Linda Lael Miller

  There were times when she was terrified.

  Times when she was furious—with God, with fate, with Denny for leaving her and Serena when they needed him so much.

  Times, like tonight, when all she could do was find a private place to cry.

  She looked up, her vision blurred, and searched until she found Denny’s favorite star—the one he’d given her as a wedding present. At Christmas, it seemed to perch on the ridgepole of the barn, but now, in spring, it gleamed slightly to the west, a little higher in the sky.

  “Luke’s back,” she told the star. And Denny. “Cherokee, too.”

  The maple tree rustled its leaves.

  The night was chilly, and Callie huddled in her jean jacket.

  The star seemed to flicker and wink.

  “Did you see Serena yesterday, Denny? Did you see how happy she was, sitting there on Mahjong’s back? She loves riding—just like you and I used to.”

  She felt Denny’s responding smile in her heart.

  He’d seen, all right.

  “I loved you so much, Den,” Callie said. “And I always will. You know that, don’t you?”

  He knew, all right.

  Callie rose shakily to her feet. “I think I accidentally started a nonprofit organization,” she went on, smiling a little through her tears. “I barely thought of it, and things started happening, like magic. People contributing money. Hal jumping in to do the legal work. We’re even getting a new barn.” She paused, searching the sky. “You’ll help me watch over our little girl, won’t you? Because I can’t do it on my own, not all the time, anyway.”

  He would.

  Callie knew he would.

  Heaven, just as she’d told Serena earlier, wasn’t really all that far away. Sometimes, the distance could be covered in a single beat of the heart.

  CHAPTER

  FOUR

  The coming week passed at what seemed like warp-speed to Callie—Happy Dan’s was unusually busy, and the funds in the contribution jar seemed to be reproducing on their own. Callie and Hal went over the legal documents on her coffee breaks, making little tweaks here and there, and the barn was progressing steadily.

  Callie saw Luke several times, but always in passing, and she knew without being told that he was giving her space, a chance to process whatever it was that was happening between them.

  And something was definitely happening.

  Serena had been on overdrive all week, eager for Friday afternoon to come. She was in a frenzy of joy that morning when Callie, who had taken a rare day off, dropped her off at school. At three o’clock sharp, Serena would board the van, with the other kids in her class, and ride home.

  Callie spent the morning cleaning the house, baking cookies and arranging a vegetable tray. Walt and Pete were on another job, and the day sparkled with all the promises of spring.

  With her work finished and hours to go before the Great School Visit was to occur, Callie went out to the barn, put a halter on Cherokee and led him out into the sunshine. Since his hide was covered in a layer of fine sawdust from the construction project, which he had endured in stalwart good spirits, she brushed him. From time to time, he nudged her with his nose, making her laugh.

  “You want to be ridden, don’t you?” she asked.

  Cherokee tossed his head, as if in affirmation, and Callie laughed again.

  “Sure you’re up to it?”

  He pawed at the ground with one foreleg. Years before, Callie had taught him to count, and she wondered if he was trying to show her that he remembered.

  She checked his hooves carefully, in case he might have picked up a stone or even a nail, but his feet looked good. She brought the milking stool out of the barn, set it on the ground and eased herself onto Cherokee’s back.

  For a moment, she was as exultant as Serena had been, riding Mahjong. Once, she and Cherokee had traveled all over the country-side, and he’d shared her triumph as queen of the Parable Rodeo. But after he’d been hauled away in that auction-house trailer, Callie had ridden only a few times, on friends’ horses. Without Cherokee, she hadn’t had the heart to ride.

  Now, miraculously, he was back.

  “We’ll just take it easy today,” she told him, her eyes burning with happy tears.

  They were traveling in a slow, wide circle when Luke drove in, parked and got out of the truck. He shut the motor off and waited until Callie and Cherokee came up in front of him.

  Callie noticed, as she got close, that while Luke’s mouth was smiling, his eyes were solemn. She was instantly alarmed.

  “Is Serena all right?”

  Luke nodded, approached to stroke Cherokee’s neck and casually inspect his legs and rib cage.

  Callie was still tense. She sat stiffly, looking down at Luke, searching his face. “Something’s wrong,” she said.

  Luke returned her gaze. “I did something, Callie,” he said. “Maybe you’ll like it, and maybe you won’t.”

  “What?”

  “The Martins stopped by my clinic an hour ago, asking after Bodine—and their horse.”

  For an instant, the whole world went dark.

  Luke stretched his hands up for Callie, but she didn’t want to get down. Not then or ever.

  Slowly, Luke lowered his hands to his sides. Then he took a slip of paper from his shirt pocket and extended it to her.

  Trembling, Callie took the paper and unfolded it.

  Blinked.

  A bill of sale.

  Callie opened her mouth, closed it again.

  “I bought Cherokee,” Luke said. “The dogs, too. I’ll keep Bodine and the pups, but for right now, anyway, I’ve got no place to keep this horse.”

  Callie’s throat was so thick, she couldn’t say a word. She finally leaned forward, wrapped both her arms around Cherokee’s neck, clinging, and wept silently into his mane.

  Tentatively, Luke touched her shoulder.

  After a while, Callie recovered herself and sat up straight again. As Luke watched, she swung a blue-jeaned leg over the horse’s back and jumped to the ground, forcing Luke to step back a little.

  Facing him, Callie dried her eyes with one hand. And she said his whole name. Nothing else, just that.

  He looked warily down at her.

  And Callie flung both arms around his neck, just as she’d done with Cherokee a few minutes before. “Thank you,” she said, drawing in the wonderful, sun-dried laundry scent of his skin, his hair, his clothes.

  He held her a little away from him, gripping her elbows.

  “I couldn’t have stood it,” Callie told him. “If the Martins or anybody else had come and taken Cherokee away again—I don’t know what I would have done. But I’m going to pay you back, Luke. Every cent. For Cherokee, for the barn—”

  Luke cupped her chin in his hand. Grinned sheepishly. “You’re not mad at me? I mean, I sort of started this whole foundation thing rolling, and then I sent Walt and Pete out here to rebuild the barn without asking you first—”

  “I’m not mad, Luke. How could I be?”

  “You’ve got a lot of pride, Callie. I didn’t rightly know what to expect.”

  Callie stood on tiptoe then and kissed Luke lightly on the mouth.

  He was surprised at first, but then he pulled Callie close again and kissed her back with a sweet ferocity that left her breathless—and groping for words. Luke seemed to be having the same problem, but he was the one who finally broke the electric silence.

  “Did you ever tell Denny about that night—at the summer dance?” he asked, his blue eyes dark with pain.

  Callie nodded. “I told him,” she said.

  Luke sighed, thrust a hand through his hair. “I tried,” he said. “Before I left for college, I crept up on the subject a couple of times, but when the chips were down, I didn’t have the guts. And I’ve regretted it ever since.”

  “Denny understood, Luke,” Callie replied quietly. “He was hurt at first, sure, but you know how he was. He didn’t carry grudges.”


  Luke reached past Callie to stroke Cherokee’s side thoughtfully. “He was a better friend than I deserved,” Luke said. “I’d do things differently, if I could have a second chance.”

  “Me, too,” Callie answered, but she wasn’t sure it was true. Yes, she’d been ashamed of deceiving Denny, but she still treasured the memory of that magical summer night and that stolen kiss under an enormous silver moon.

  Luke turned to Callie again. “I’d still have kissed you,” he said, as though he’d been reading her mind. “But I’d have told Denny right off how I felt about you. Been a man about it, instead of a kid.”

  Callie raised a hand, hesitated, and then touched Luke’s cheek. “But you were a kid,” she reminded him. “We all were.”

  Luke was quiet for a long time, just watching Callie. Then he said, “You loved him a lot, didn’t you?”

  Callie swallowed, looked away, looked back. “Yes,” she finally answered. “But it was different than before—”

  “Before what?”

  “Before you.”

  A muscle bunched in Luke’s jaw. He laid his hands on Callie’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “If I’d told you how I felt—”

  “Luke,” Callie broke in, “stop. What happened, happened. It was one dance and an innocent kiss, not a torrid affair. Things were supposed to turn out the way they did—I married Denny and you married Roberta. If things had been different, I might not have had Serena, and that’s something I can’t even imagine.”

  Luke’s smile was soft, thoughtful. “She’s a terrific kid, Callie.”

  “She is,” Callie agreed, thinking of the Tiger Lily/Dancing Feather story she and Serena had made up, and feeling her throat tighten again.

  “Were you scared? When you found out about the Down syndrome?”

  “Yes,” Callie said. “So was Denny. And there are times when I’m still scared—that she’ll get sick, or be in an accident. All the stuff mothers worry about. It’s been hard, Luke—there’s no denying that. Serena knows she’s different from other kids, and there are a lot of things she’ll never be able to do, and that hurts. Just last week, she told me she wanted to be a mommy when she grows up. But for all of it, not a day goes by that I don’t thank God for her, exactly as she is.”

  Cherokee broke into the conversation then, butting at Callie again with his head. Luke and Callie both laughed.

  Luke made a stirrup of his hands, and Callie got back up on Cherokee’s back. As she looked down into Luke’s upturned face, saw the sunlight catch in his hair, Callie’s heart gave another pinchy flip.

  “If I asked you for a second chance, Callie,” Luke said, “what would you say?”

  “I’d say we’d have to take things slowly,” Callie responded honestly. She could still feel Luke’s kiss, the ghost of that warm pressure on her mouth, but she wasn’t a smitten teenager anymore. She was a grown woman, with a child and a job and bills to pay.

  “That’s good enough for me,” Luke answered.

  “You’re home for good?”

  “For good, Callie.”

  “You asked me if I loved Denny, and I told you the truth. Now it’s my turn. Did you love Roberta, Luke?”

  One hand resting on Cherokee’s withers, Luke took a few moments to consider the question. “Not the way I should have,” he said. “We wanted different things from the first. I wanted a houseful of kids, Roberta wanted to keep her figure. I loved the country, she loved the city. I love animals—” He paused and smiled ruefully “—and she wished she’d married another kind of doctor.”

  “You’d want children of your own,” Callie ventured.

  “Definitely,” Luke said.

  “What if…?” She fell silent.

  “What if one of them had Down syndrome?” Luke finished gently. “Like Serena?”

  Callie nodded, miserably hopeful.

  “I’d consider myself one lucky man,” Luke said.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Callie believed him. “But we’ve got lots of time,” she said.

  “Lots of time,” he agreed.

  And then his cell phone rang.

  Callie stared off into the distance while he took the call, sorting through all the things he’d told her, tucking them away in safe places inside to think about later.

  “Gotta go,” he told her, after snapping the phone shut. “Sick cow over at Linstrom’s Dairy.” He started for the truck, stopped and turned back. “Can I come back later, Callie?”

  “My turn to cook supper,” she replied with a nod. “Bring Bodine.”

  Luke’s grin was as dazzling as dawn. He waved once, got into the truck and drove off.

  SERENA WAS THE FIRST ONE out of the van when it arrived, followed by Miss Parker and the rest of the kids.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Miss Parker said, “but a few of the parents are on the way. Everybody’s excited about your riding program.”

  Callie started to say there wasn’t a riding program, not yet, anyway, but she stopped herself, because all the kids—most especially Serena—were watching her with eager, hopeful little faces.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Cherokee stood in the yard, his halter rope dangling, and nickered when Serena rushed over to pet him.

  “See?” the little girl said, turning to address the rapt children gathered nearby. “He’s a nice horse.”

  “Some of the children were concerned that he might bite them,” Miss Parker confided to Callie, keeping her voice low. Even then, they huddled at a little distance, watching Serena.

  “Can I ride him, Mom?” Serena pleaded. “Please? Like I rode Mahjong?”

  Callie hesitated only briefly. She knew Cherokee was gentle, and she’d stay close by, just in case. “Sure,” she said. She approached, hoisted Serena onto Cherokee’s back and held the lead rope.

  “Look at me!” Serena crowed, while the other kids stared in admiration and no little envy. “I’m riding a horse!”

  Callie smiled, led Cherokee slowly around in a circle.

  One little boy, who also had Down syndrome, broke away from the cluster of children around Miss Parker and approached. “Can Charlie ride, too?” he asked on his own behalf.

  Callie’s heart melted, but before she could find the words to refuse, a sporty SUV pulled in from the main road.

  “That’s my dad!” Charlie cried.

  “You can’t ride without his permission,” Serena said importantly. “That’s the rule.”

  A slender man got out of the SUV and walked, smiling, toward the group. Charlie ran to him, and Callie watched as he swept the child up into his arms and spun him around in an exuberant greeting.

  “Charlie wants to ride a horse!” the little boy shouted. “Charlie wants to be a cowboy!”

  The man carried him over to Callie.

  “Jack Berrington,” he said, by way of introduction. The Berringtons were new in Parable, although Callie had seen them several times at Happy Dan’s, with Charlie and their three older children.

  “Callie Dorset,” Callie responded, transferring the lead rope to her left hand so she could offer her right one in response to his greeting.

  “Charlie can get on with me,” Serena announced. “I’ll protect him.”

  Callie and Mr. Berrington exchanged smiles.

  “Is it safe?” the man asked, Charlie straining in his arms.

  “Cherokee’s gentle,” Callie confirmed. “But I haven’t got insurance yet.”

  Mr. Berrington nodded.

  “Please?” Charlie begged.

  Mr. Berrington looked questioningly at Callie.

  “Okay,” she said, taking a firmer hold on the lead rope.

  Charlie’s eyes widened when he found himself sitting astride Cherokee, behind Serena. He wrapped his little arms around Serena’s waist and hung on tight, his dad standing close, one hand resting lightly against Charlie’s back.

  In that moment, seeing the look of transcendent delight on S
erena’s and Charlie’s faces, Callie knew she would do whatever it took to make the riding program a reality—raise the money, jump through the legal hoops, recruit volunteers, all of it.

  Three other parents showed up within the next half hour. By that time, Serena and Charlie had dismounted, and Callie was demonstrating how she groomed Cherokee, and how she checked his feet before and after every ride. She showed them through the barn, placed the horse in his stall, fed him and filled his water trough.

  Serena glowed with pride, though whether she was proud of Callie or the horse was anybody’s guess.

  Inside the house, Serena helped serve cookies and insisted on showing off the Tiger Lily necklace to everyone. By the time Miss Parker, the children and the parents had gone, she was happily exhausted.

  “Did you have fun, sweetie?” Callie asked, clearing away the party debris. Luke was coming for supper, and she didn’t have the first idea what to serve, nor had she mentioned the impending visit to Serena. She didn’t want to get her all wound up again—or see her disappointed if Luke was delayed for some reason, or couldn’t come at all.

  Serena, sitting in Callie’s rocking chair in the corner of the kitchen, nodded wearily and yawned.

  “Why don’t you take a little nap before supper?” Callie suggested.

  To her surprise, Serena readily agreed and went off to her bedroom.

  Smiling, Callie inspected the contents of her pantry and refrigerator, still mulling over the supper quandary. She finally decided on tuna casserole, a mainstay in her modest repertoire, and started the preparations.

  As she worked, she hummed softly under her breath.

  Although Serena was sound asleep when Callie checked on her a few minutes later, the child apparently had radar. The moment Luke drove in, she was pounding down the hallway and into the kitchen.

  Callie, setting three places at the table, smiled as her tousle-haired, sleepy-eyed daughter rushed to the window and immediately began jumping up and down.

  “Luke’s here!” she cried. “And he brought Bodine!”

  Callie chuckled. “Maybe you ought to let them in,” she said mildly.