by Regina Scott
She remembered, but a part of her was beginning to want more.
She couldn’t tell him, couldn’t bear to see sadness or, worse, pity in his eyes. Besides, who was she to know whether these growing feelings were anything more than the fever that had gripped her father and brother?
She didn’t act on those feelings most of the next week. Even when they all attended church that Sunday, she fancied she looked no more interested in Levi’s sermon than anyone else in the congregation. Besides, with her, her brothers and Mica seated on the front row, nobody could see her face to know if she looked moony.
She had expected Levi to talk about being a prodigal, the story he had been studying in the Bible, but he spoke about how angels visited Joseph in dreams to tell him it was right and good to marry Mary. She didn’t remember most of her dreams, but she didn’t think angels had ever come to tell her what to do.
“Did that ever happen to you?” she asked Levi as they left the church after services. Frisco and Sutter were chasing Levi’s nephews around the yard, and Beth was cooing at Mica as she rocked the little girl in her arms.
He shook his head. “No angel ever brought me a message. But God has ways of getting His point across.”
Callie frowned. “Like what?”
He stopped, gaze going out over his departing congregation. “The miracles in nature, a word from a trusted friend, the quiet answer to a prayer.”
“And you know what He wants then,” she pressed.
He nodded, gaze returning to hers. The sadness she’d seen on occasion had been replaced with something else, something satisfied, peaceful. “I know what He wants for my life. I don’t presume to know what He wants for others.”
Callie drew in a breath. “Then maybe I should ask Him about my life. Excuse me.”
She hurried away before he could question her.
She probably could have prayed right there. Levi certainly had no trouble speaking to God aloud in front of others, at mealtimes, during service. But she had never talked to God before. The first time ought to be private. She wanted to make sure she did it right.
She bypassed the church, where a few people were still gathered, and headed down the hill. She avoided the main clearing, having no interest in sharing her thoughts with the other Wallins, and struck out on a path through the forest. The moss was hard under her boots. She could hear it crunching. A bird darted past, most likely frightened by the sound.
Callie sighed, trying to gather her thoughts, which seemed as jumbled as the contents of James’s store. She had said she didn’t want a husband, didn’t want to watch another man dream fool dreams while his family suffered. Levi Wallin might not be running off to pan, but how could she know he wouldn’t dream of more? She was tired of moving, tired of not knowing where her head would be resting a month from now, tired of wondering how she’d find food when winter came.
But he was such a good partner, watching over her brothers and Mica, helping her learn to read. Was it his kindness that was making her start to dream as well?
She stopped in the path, glanced in all directions. The woods had fallen silent. Pa had said that meant there was a predator in the woods. She thought it might be her. She closed her eyes, drew in a breath, let the cold of the air pierce her lungs.
God, Almighty One. From what I’ve seen and heard here at Wallin Landing, You want me to talk to You. I’m sorry to ask questions my first time, but I don’t know what to do. I find myself wanting to be part of this place, this family. I want to be more to Levi than a partner. Is that foolish?
Levi had said God would answer. Maybe there’d be some bolt of lightning. She cracked open an eye. The woods remained silent, wrapped in winter’s chill. Nothing looked or sounded the least bit different. And still she felt conflicted.
Callie closed her eyes again.
Am I doing this wrong? I read in the Bible that I’m supposed to talk without a lot of highfalutin words. Maybe You could just tell me what You want. Is this place meant to be home? Am I meant to be Levi’s wife?
Something touched her face, soft, like the brush of a finger. Callie opened her eyes again. Snow drifted down, thick and tufty, like goose feathers on the air. It reminded her of the last time she’d seen Vital Creek as they had been forced south for the winter, the last time she, Adam, Pa and the twins had been a family.
Was this her answer? Did God mean she’d be forced to leave Wallin Landing like they’d left Vital Creek, or was He saying she’d finally found a family again?
* * *
Inside the parsonage, Levi listened to Frisco and Sutter bickering, but his mind was far away. Even though he’d preached on something appropriate to the Advent season, he kept thinking about the story of the prodigal son. He knew himself to be a prodigal, returned home by the grace of God. But the things he’d done while he’d been away continued to haunt him. He could see Scout’s wide, panicked eyes, hear his friend’s cries that he was innocent as the prospectors surrounded him. How did a man ever make up for betraying his best friend? He felt as if he’d fallen in mud and no amount of scrubbing would ever wash him clean.
Mica gabbled at him from his lap, and he forced a smile. “You’ll make better choices,” he assured her.
Silence was his only answer.
His head jerked up. The twins were nowhere in sight, and he heard no thuds from outside that would have assured him they were chopping wood.
“I don’t suppose you know where they went,” he said to Mica.
She looked at the ceiling even as a thump echoed overhead. Rising, Levi went to set the baby in her chair at the table, then loped for the stairs.
The loft looked empty the first time he glanced around, but two of the pallets were bumpier than usual, the quilts piled up over the pillows as if someone was sleeping under them. Napping, on a Sunday afternoon? He didn’t believe it for a moment.
“What a shame,” he said aloud. “I was thinking about asking Frisco and Sutter to help me churn some ice cream. They must have been tired from all that hard work studying for the theatrical.”
“No, we aren’t,” Sutter said, popping out from beside the hearth. “I’ll help you churn, preacher.”
Levi sat on his bed. “Maybe you could call me Levi.”
Frisco followed his brother out of hiding. “Callie won’t like it. She says we have to call men mister or sir.”
“Or by what they do,” Sutter reminded him. “Like being a preacher.”
Levi was too young to be their pa, and he wouldn’t have felt comfortable having them call him that. Being a father was a serious role. Even Drew had nearly buckled under the responsibility.
“How about uncle?” he suggested.
“Uncle Levi,” Frisco said as if trying out the appellation. “I like it.”
“Me, too,” Sutter said. “Can we go churn ice cream now, Uncle Levi?”
Levi rose. “Shortly. First, I want to know why you decided to hide this afternoon.”
Two gazes met. As if he saw something in his brother’s eyes, Frisco nodded.
“You got to promise not to tell Callie, pre—Uncle Levi,” he said solemnly.
“Callie and I are partners,” Levi told him. “It’s not right to hide things from your partner.”
“Even if it’s a surprise?” Sutter pressed.
Levi cocked his head. “What kind of surprise?”
In answer, the boys beckoned him closer to the hearth. Against the stone, where the chimney shadowed a small section of the loft, was a pile of something. Levi squatted to get a better look.
“Feathers?” he asked.
“Shh!” Sutter warned. “She might hear you.”
Levi was fairly sure Callie was still out for her walk, though he didn’t understand why she’d wanted to leave in the first place. Something told him he was t
he cause of her agitation. He just didn’t know what he’d done.
“All right,” he whispered. “Why feathers?”
“Miss Beth said she’d help us make a hat for Callie for Christmas,” Frisco explained.
“A real one,” Sutter put in. “All fancy-like. Callie never gets fancy things. We thought she deserved it.”
Levi put out a hand to him. “You’re right. She does. I’ll keep quiet about the feathers. Just see that you look for them outside. No need to tug them out of your pillows.”
“How did you know?” Frisco demanded.
Levi straightened. “I was a lad like you not that long ago. Very likely anything you could think to try, I already did and lived to regret it.”
Downstairs he heard a door shut.
“Frisco? Sutter?” Callie’s voice drifted up the stairs. “Who’s minding Mica?”
“I think you just found something else to regret, Uncle Levi,” Sutter said.
But he couldn’t regret learning about the boys’ surprise for Callie. He was pleased to know they’d thought about getting their sister something for Christmas. Yet it made him think. What could he give Callie and the boys to make their first Christmas at Wallin Landing special?
He should have known his sister would have an opinion on the matter. Beth had clearly remained focused on her matchmaking, for she drew him aside as soon as he, Callie, the twins and Mica arrived for dinner that afternoon.
“James says you haven’t picked out a Christmas present for Callie,” she whispered as they stood near the hearth.
Levi glanced to where his irrepressible older brother was playing a game of fox and hens with all the children old enough to run around in a circle. “I’ve been thinking.”
Beth clasped her hands. “I can help. I have so many ideas. A heart-shaped brooch, perhaps, with a lock of your hair.”
Levi grimaced. “She’d run screaming for the hills.”
Beth dropped her hands, frowning. “Why? It’s a perfectly romantic gesture.”
“Did someone say romance?” Catherine swept up to them. “Has Callie settled on one of the crew, then?”
“No,” Levi said, then nearly grimaced again as Nora and two of the toddlers looked his way.
Catherine frowned. “Are you sure? Harry seems most attentive.”
Even now the big logger was making funny faces that set Mica to giggling in Callie’s arms.
Levi’s skin prickled. “She isn’t courting. You know that, Catherine.”
Catherine drew herself up. “Well, we can fix that. I’ll suggest to Harry that he invite her to the Christmas dance.”
Callie must have noticed Levi’s gaze on her, for she left Harry to cross to his side.
“Everything all right?” she asked him. “You look rather fierce.”
“Yes,” Beth said with a giggle. “He does, doesn’t he?”
Catherine eyed him. “Are you feeling unwell, Levi? I’m sure I have something that would help.”
“No,” he said, taking a step back. Despite his intentions, he slipped an arm about Callie’s waist, saw her brows go up. “And Callie will not be attending the Christmas dance with Harry or anyone else you might suggest.”
Beth’s face fell. “Why not?”
“Because,” Levi said, watching color climb in Callie’s cheeks, “Callie promised to attend with me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Callie thought another young miss would be delighted with the way Beth clasped her hands and grinned at Levi’s announcement. Catherine smiled knowingly, and even Mica applauded as she turned from one smiling face to the next. But Callie wasn’t fooled. The look in Beth’s eyes meant trouble. Beth didn’t understand Callie and Levi were just partners. His sister was set on matchmaking, despite Callie’s earlier protests.
“Oh, Levi, that’s wonderful,” Beth said. “Nora can make a ball gown.”
Callie hefted Mica closer. “I don’t need a ball gown.”
“Of course you do. And I can fix your hair, maybe in the Greek style, like in the November issue of Godey’s.”
Callie widened her stance. “My hair is fine.”
Beth rubbed her hands together. “Now, about the jewelry...”
“No,” Callie said. “No jewelry. No ball gown. No fancy hair. I’m not going courting, remember?”
Beth’s mouth snapped shut, and she hurried for the kitchen. Looking contrite, most likely for her part in the attempted matchmaking, Catherine excused herself, as well.
Callie sighed. “I hurt your sister’s feelings again.”
Levi shrugged. “She overstepped. I’m not sure what else would have stopped her. She seems compelled to play matchmaker. But she wants the best for those she cares about. None of us can help it if our vision doesn’t align with hers.”
“So what do you do?” Callie asked.
“We take her aside, explain how we feel about the matter.”
“Does that help?”
Levi grinned. “Sometimes.”
Callie handed Mica to him. “Then I’ll try.” She turned for the kitchen.
Beth was stirring the stew, movements brisk. The color in her cheeks suggested that more than the heat of the stove was involved.
“I came to apologize,” Callie told her. “You keep trying to help.”
Beth sniffed, head down and spoon moving. “You don’t want my help. I understand.”
Callie went to take down the dishes she knew the Wallins used for Sunday dinner. “I’m not sure you do. Let me explain. Ma died when I was twelve, Pa when I was sixteen. I’ve had to be responsible for everyone in my family. When you step in without asking, you show me you think I’m not doing well enough on my own.” Callie turned to face her. “You’re saying I’m not good enough.”
“Oh, Callie!” Beth dropped her spoon and ran to enfold her in a hug. “I beg your pardon. I never meant to imply you weren’t perfect just the way you are.”
“I’m not perfect,” Callie said as Beth pulled away. “I’m just doing the best I can.”
“Everyone can see that,” Beth assured her. “We admire you for it.”
Admired her? All the fine men and women of Wallin Landing? Callie ducked her head. “Thank you. Just realize I have a hard time accepting help.”
Beth frowned. “Even from Levi?”
Especially from Levi, but Callie refused to confess as much to his sister. “He’s done enough for us already. You’ve all done too much.”
“We’re family,” Beth said, chin coming up. “Family helps each other.”
Beth’s eyes, so like her brother’s, were bright, her smile determined. “You really believe that?” Callie asked.
Beth nodded. “And I believe something else, as well. Despite his protests, Levi is starting to care for you.”
She knew it! “You stop playing matchmaker,” Callie scolded.
“Why? I’m fairly good at it, having had a hand in all my brothers’ courtships.” She leaned closer. “What are you planning to get him for Christmas?”
Callie felt as if a rock had settled in her stomach. “Must I get him something for Christmas?”
Beth leaned back. “No. Generally, all the adults work together to make sure Father Christmas brings something for each of the children. Husbands and wives exchange gifts, of course, and children make something for their parents. Which is Levi to you?”
“None of those things,” Callie told her. “We’re partners. He’s certainly not getting me anything for Christmas.”
Beth raised a brow. “Are you sure about that?”
In truth, she wasn’t. There had been times Levi withdrew by himself. She’d assumed he was working on preacher things—visiting the less fortunate, making notes for his next sermon, tending to the church. But
what if he was making her something for Christmas? Shouldn’t she do the same? Not that she had all that many skills. Still, he’d done so much for her and her family.
“If I was to get him something,” Callie murmured, brushing out a wrinkle in her dress, “what would it be?”
Beth, of course, had all kinds of ideas, from the costly to the impractical. A saddle for his horse? Where would she get the money? A pin made from her braided hair? Who’d want that? Her dismay must have been written on her face, for Beth sputtered to a stop.
“I’m sorry, Callie,” she said. “There I go again, telling you what to do. I’m sure Levi would be delighted with whatever you give him. Why, he always said the best present he ever received was a tin harmonica. He played that thing for hours. He must have lost it on his trip north, because I’ve never seen it since he’s returned. But if he could be happy with such a simple present, you needn’t feel compelled to get something fancier.”
Which was a good thing, as the few coins she had left from Adam might not be enough even for a simple harmonica.
Yet the idea remained on her mind the next few days. She’d managed to avoid committing to a new dress or hairstyle for the dance or admitting that her feelings for Levi were also growing, though Nora, Catherine and Beth asked her about the matter as she helped them finish the costumes for the school play. She was thinking things over as she started back to the parsonage. Sunday’s snow had been fleeting, and now a few flakes drifted down from the sky, landing on Mica’s lashes and making her blink as she tried to focus on them.
A harmonica. Music. Something treasured lost on the gold fields. It seemed so fitting. Would James have one in that crowded store of his?
She was halfway up the hill when Zachariah Turnpeth, one of the prospectors who had visited her cabin before she moved to Wallin Landing, stepped out of the woods.
His heavy coat and trousers were stiff with cold, his boots crusted with mud to the tops. Fingers poked through the knit of his gloves. He nodded politely enough.
“Miss Callie, sorry to trouble you. We never did find a way to head south, but we’re hoping we can soon. Might you have some place we could stay the night?”
