Callie was confused, by both the kiss and his abrupt change of manner afterward.
Her first real kiss.
Her mind was awhirl with the unexpectedness of it, with the still-tumbling sensations. His rush to distance himself only added to her off-balance feelings.
Was he regretting the kiss? Or embarrassed by it?
Had she reacted improperly?
Callie fumbled around for her bonnet and hairpins, trying to gather her thoughts at the same time. She accepted his hand to help her up, but released it as soon as she was upright. She couldn’t tell from his expression what he was thinking.
For that matter, she wasn’t even certain what she was thinking.
Without meeting his gaze, she twisted her hair with a few well-practiced motions and had it pinned into a bun in a matter of seconds.
What a fright she must have looked when he stumbled on her—her hair all loose and tangled, her birthmark on full display and the rest of her face nearly as red and blotchy from her crying. It was a wonder he hadn’t turned and left without ever coming near.
But naturally he’d felt sorry for her and had been too much of a gentleman to abandon her to her distress.
She stilled a moment. Is that all that kiss had signified—sympathy?
Of course. How could she have thought, even for a moment, that it had been something more?
“Ready?” His question drew her from her uncomfortable thoughts.
She unfolded and shook out her bonnet. “Yes, of course.”
He stopped her before she could place the starched cloth on her head. “There’s no need for that.”
Callie remembered Simon’s conversation with his friends. “Yes, there is.” She resolutely pulled the bonnet firmly in place and tied the ribbon under her chin. Just as resolutely, she tamped down the memory of Jack’s thumb caressing her there. “You forget, there are the children to consider.”
He shook his head as he extended his arm. “I don’t think you give them enough credit. They are children, after all. They would adjust to your appearance quite quickly, given the chance.”
Callie took his arm, glad she’d let loose all of her feeling on the subject earlier. She could face the matter squarely now, without useless self-pity to cloud her attitude. “Perhaps, when the time is right, we’ll give it a try.”
Then she straightened her skirt and gave him a serene smile. “Now, as you said, we’d best get back before the children come looking for us.”
That evening, Callie closed the door to Simon’s room and leaned against it as she let out a tired sigh. Though he grumbled that he’d outgrown the nightly ritual, she still went in to hear his prayers and tuck him in, just as she did with the girls. And every night, his prayers consisted mostly of pleas for God to find a way to help him return to life in town.
Tonight, he’d made his plea more specific, praying that Callie would see Jack’s construction efforts as the answer to those prayers and allow them to move “home” when it was done.
After his Amen, the boy had scrambled into bed and turned his back to her, not bothering to so much as acknowledge her when she tucked the coverlet up around his shoulders.
Would she ever be able to get through to him?
Callie pushed away from the door, then hesitated. Should she join Jack for their normal chat tonight?
In spite of her protests this afternoon, Jack had told the children about her birthday and they’d put together a little impromptu celebration. Emma had drawn pictures and Annabeth had picked armloads of wildflowers to decorate the parlor. Jack had dug some cocoa out of the pantry and whipped them each up a cup of cocoa and milk for a treat. Then he’d capped the evening off by insisting that he and the children take care of the kitchen chores while she propped up her feet.
But despite the festivities, there’d been a subtle awkwardness between the two of them ever since that kiss this afternoon. Would being alone together on the moonlit porch ease the tension or intensify it?
Callie squared her shoulders. They’d have to be alone together again sometime.
She loosened her bonnet string. Might as well get it over with sooner rather than later. Besides, if she didn’t go downstairs tonight, he’d likely read something into her absence that she’d prefer he not.
And she absolutely refused to acknowledge the little tingle of anticipation that shimmied through her.
Jack straightened when he heard the door open behind him.
He hadn’t been sure she’d join him tonight, wasn’t even quite sure if he’d wanted her to.
“Thanks for the birthday celebration,” she said as she leaned against the rail.
A nice, safe subject. Did she plan to ignore what had happened between them this afternoon then? That’s what he’d wanted, but still, he’d give a pretty penny to be able to read her mind at the moment.
“You’re welcome,” he said carefully. “I’m afraid it wasn’t much of a party.”
“Actually, it’s one of the nicest ones I’ve had since Julia left Ohio.”
She must have seen the surprise in his face, because she quickly added, “Oh, I didn’t mean to say my family didn’t celebrate with me. But this had more the feel of a child’s tea party and it brought back sweet memories.”
He grimaced. “A child’s tea party, huh?”
“I’m sorry.” She grinned, not looking one bit repentant. “Does it bother you to think you had a hand in such an event? I assure you, it was done quite well.”
Jack relaxed, comfortable with the bantering tone she’d set. “Just don’t let word get back to my demolition team.”
She crossed her heart. “You have my word.”
Then her expression turned serious. “You know Simon is still set on returning to his old life in town. He sees this building project of yours as God’s answer to his prayers.”
Jack shifted in his seat. He’d never thought of himself as the answer to anyone’s prayers. “By the time I’m done, he’ll have had more time to adjust to life here on the farm.”
“I don’t know that a few weeks, or even months, will make much of a difference in his feelings.”
He heard the wistful tinge in her voice. “What about you? Are you so certain this is really the life you want?”
“More so than ever.”
Not the answer he’d expected. “Why?”
She raised a brow. “Disappointed? I thought you wanted to make certain the farm stayed in Tyler family hands.”
“That’s my reason.” He pointed a finger at her. “I asked about yours. Running this place is hard work and you’re more accustomed to city ways.”
“It’s true that my former home was in the midst of a good-sized city with lots of modern conveniences that haven’t found their way out here yet. But I spent most of my days inside that house so it’s not like I’ll miss the sights and sounds. As for the conveniences, I get by quite nicely without electric lights or fancy shops or so-called fine entertainment, thank you. Moving to Sweetgum proper wouldn’t provide those things anyway.”
She turned and stared out over the darkened landscape. “My reason? I like it out here. I like the feel of openness and of making my own way. I like the fact that it’s forced me to draw on skills I didn’t know I had. And I like experiencing God’s handiwork in such an intimate way.” She turned back to him and crossed her arms. “It’s also the life Leland wanted for Annabeth and I feel I owe it to him to give it to her.”
Leland again. It always came back to his brother. “What about Emma and Simon?”
Callie sat on the bench and picked at something on her skirt. “I’ve been pondering on that. I still worry about Emma. But I think the change in scenery and routine has been good for her. Once we figure out whatever is truly bothering her, I believe she’ll be happy here.”
So she still thought there was something bothering Emma, something besides her grief. He’d have to keep a closer eye on the girl. He was beginning to appreciate Callie’s instincts when it came
to the kids.
“As for Simon,” she said slowly, “I just don’t know. He seems to have his mind made up and I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll be able to change it. The thing is…” She paused, then lifted her head confidently. “I believe, whether he thinks so or not, this is the best place for him right now.”
That seemed a strange choice of words. But before he could question her further, she stood. “I think it’s time for me to retire. You enjoy the evening.”
Jack continued shaving strips off his block of wood. At least it seemed his impulsive kiss hadn’t done any permanent damage to the friendship that had begun to take root between them.
Why, he wondered, didn’t that give him a sense of satisfaction?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Callie set a pie on the window sill to cool and glanced out toward the work shed, wondering what Jack was up to.
He’d come back from town at lunchtime today and spent most of the afternoon working on some project out there. He’d been evasive about whatever he was up to, but he’d worn a self-satisfied smile when he came in an hour ago looking for baking soda, wood polish and silver polish.
She shook her head and moved back to the oven to fetch the second pie. As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Jack stepped through the back door.
“Where are the kids?”
She placed the pie atop the stove. “I believe the girls are in the parlor and Simon is on the front porch. Why?”
“I have something to show them. Would you call them in here?”
So, they were finally going to learn what he’d been up to. Intrigued, Callie did as he asked. When the four of them entered the kitchen, Jack stood beside the table. He’d thrown a cloth over it and there were several interesting looking lumps beneath it.
“Here we are,” she said unnecessarily.
Jack nodded and waved them forward. “Simon and Emma, while we were working in town last week, my crew and I found a few things I thought you might want.” With a flourish, he pulled away the cloth to reveal an odd assortment of items.
A penknife lay next to a silver-plated hand mirror and a delicate teacup.
A tin box held three polished rocks and an assortment of marbles. Next to the box was a gold locket, without a chain.
Displayed on a flour sack were a collection of knobs, handles, drawer pulls and other assorted hardware.
And behind all of these items were three wooden boxes of different sizes and designs.
Simon touched the penknife as if it were a valuable relic. “This was Dad’s. He used it to trim the wicks on the lamps.”
Jack put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “It’s yours now.”
He turned to Emma who was running a fingertip over the mirror, as if afraid it would break if she applied even the slightest pressure.
“I know that was your mother’s,” he said softly. “She got it for her thirteenth birthday.”
Emma nodded, her eyes glistening.
Callie watched the children’s reactions to these rescued treasures and swallowed back the lump in her throat. Every one of these items had been scrupulously cleaned so there was not a smudge or hint of char on them. The silver gleamed. The locket glowed with the warmth of well-worn gold.
The man was a fraud. Anyone who would go to so much trouble to salvage these treasures for the children was no cold-hearted loner. But then again, she’d stopped believing that about him quite some time ago.
She cleared her throat and touched the rim of the teacup. The delicate rose-patterned piece had a soft, pearly luster inside and out. “This is beautiful.”
“It’s Momma’s good china.” Emma’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “We only used it when company came.”
Callie nodded, moving her hand from the cup to Emma’s shoulder. “Then it deserves a place of honor. What do you say we clear a spot in the china cabinet for it?”
Emma nodded.
Callie picked up the delicate cup and solemnly carried it over to the china cabinet that stood in the dining room. With great care she shifted a few items around and then set the tea cup where it could be admired with ease.
When they returned to the kitchen, Simon was eagerly examining his rocks and marbles.
Jack pointed to the boxes. “I thought you might like to have something to store your treasures in. These are made from the wooden walls and floors of your house. The hinges and knobs are from the doors and windows.”
He looked at Annabeth. “Little Bit, I made one for you, too. I thought you might like to have a memento to remember your Aunt Nell and Uncle Jed by.”
Callie met his eyes over the heads of the children and hoped he could read her approval.
Lord, thank You for bringing this man into the children’s lives. And mine, as well.
The next few days settled into a routine. Callie rose with the sun to help Jack with the morning chores. Then she woke the children and started breakfast. By the time she had the meal on the table, the children were dressed and in their seats, and Jack was cleaned up and ready to join them. After breakfast, everyone scattered to his or her assigned chores for that day, and Jack headed into town to work on the construction.
As the days passed, though, she and the children saw less and less of Jack. He didn’t even bother to come home for the noonday meal. Instead he stuffed a chunk of cheese, a thick slice of bread and an apple or pear in a basket to take along with him.
It was usually late when he returned from town. Once he checked that everything was in order with the animals he washed up and came in for supper.
Even their nightly chats grew shorter. Callie tried to look on the bright side of things. It was probably for the best. After all, this was how things would be when he went back to his old life. She should get used to it now.
But she found very little consolation in that thought.
By the end of the week, however, she was worried about the toll the workload seemed to be taking on Jack himself.
He’d been pushing hard—too hard. Rising before sunup, doing his share of the morning chores, then gulping down breakfast before heading to town. The days had been brutally hot, yet that hadn’t slowed him down. By the time he came home in the evenings he looked withered and bone tired.
Callie stood in the kitchen Saturday evening, and glanced at the watch pinned to her bodice for the tenth time. It was nearly dark out and there was still no sign of Jack. She’d long since fed the children and cleaned up their dishes.
What was keeping him? Had he run into problems?
Her head came up at the sound of a wagon.
“Your Uncle Jack is home,” she announced. “Emma, would you set him a place at the table, please? Simon, run out and see if you can help him with anything.”
Callie nibbled at her bottom lip. This was ridiculous.
It was time she had a talk with him. Tonight. Before the fool man worked himself down to a nub.
Jack inhaled deeply as Callie set a plate in front of him. Coming home to a meal like this in the evening had become the high point of his day. He was sure going to miss it when he returned to life on the road.
Among other things.
Funny how that kind of thinking occupied his mind of late. Must be because he was so tired. The Texas summer heat certainly took its toll on a man.
But the work was coming along well. If his luck held and he kept up his current pace, he could finish in under a month.
Callie took a seat across from him. “Shall I say grace for you?”
He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. The kids weren’t anywhere in sight. But apparently that wasn’t the point.
With a nod, he set his fork down and bowed his head.
“Heavenly Father, thank You for the bounty You have provided. Bless the meal and the one who partakes of it. May it nourish him and provide him strength and sustenance. Amen.”
“Amen.” Jack picked up his fork again and shoveled the first bite into his mouth. Cooking was definitely one of Callie’s
gifts.
“You need to slow down.”
He gave her a wary look as he swallowed the morsel. “Sorry if my table manners offend you. I’m still not used to eating in mixed company.”
She waved a hand. “That’s not what I meant. You can’t keep up the pace you’ve set for yourself. Are you in such a hurry to get back to your old life that you’re willing to run yourself into the ground to finish faster?”
He shrugged. “I’m used to working long hours to get a project done.”
“But no one’s set you a deadline for this. Why are you pushing yourself so hard?”
Jack took another bite of food, watching her closely while he chewed and swallowed. “I want to make sure it gets done by the first of August.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why that particular date?”
“It’s the timeframe I set for heading back to California.”
That seemed to set her back a bit and Jack took advantage of her silence to continue eating. With any luck she’d let the subject drop.
“Still, you can’t—
He held up a hand. Seems his luck wasn’t going to hold after all. “Look, I’m tired and I’m hungry. Can this conversation wait until tomorrow? It’ll be Sunday and we’ll have all the time in the world for one of these little chats.”
“Very well.” She stood. “But don’t think I’ll let this drop.”
The thought had never crossed his mind.
The next morning, when Jack came downstairs, he was surprised to find the stove already stoked, a pot of coffee brewing and Callie seated at the table.
“Well, well, you’re up mighty early. What’s the occasion?”
“You’re fired.”
Jack blinked. “What?”
Her chin lifted in that familiar stubborn tilt. “I decided I’ve had enough practice. I’m taking over the morning chores.”
He couldn’t suppress his grunt of disbelief.
She smiled. “Not by myself. The children have already learned to help with the evening chores. It won’t be such a big jump for them to learn to help in the morning as well.”
The Hand-Me-Down Family Page 18
