by Lenora Worth
Because his life had once been out of control? Callie could certainly identify with that notion.
She ventured into deeper waters. “You said you grew up near here. Where is that, exactly?”
He lifted his fork. “Eat your casserole before it gets cold.”
Callie couldn’t hide her shock, but she lifted the creamy concoction to her mouth and tried to swallow it. “You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”
“No.”
They both ate their food for a moment or two, then he said, “Tell me about your mother.”
Should she? Or should she clam up like he had? No, Callie wasn’t the tight-lipped kind. “She was wonderful. Always had a kind word for anyone. She was a true Christian. She didn’t judge, didn’t condemn. She just loved with all her heart.”
“You must be a lot like her.”
Callie didn’t know what to say to that. “I try, but no one can ever be exactly like Lola Blanchard. She was one of a kind.” She touched her napkin to her mouth. “People told us after she’d died that God needed her in heaven.” She shook her head. “I kind of got tired of hearing that.”
His blue eyes flared like firelight at that comment. “Did you blame God for her death?”
“No. I blame cancer for her death. God didn’t take her. He healed her, in the only way He could. I’ve accepted that, but I still miss her. And...I don’t need platitudes to comfort me. Sometimes, I just need someone to listen.”
He looked over at her, his eyes full of understanding. “I’m a pretty good listener.”
Embarrassed, she shook her head again. “I’m not asking you to do that, but I appreciate the offer.”
He sipped his iced tea then lifted his gaze to Callie again. “You...had cancer.”
Okay, this man was forever shocking her. “Yes, I did. But I survived. Coming up on my five-year checkup soon.”
He ran a finger down the condensation on his crystal drinking glass. “And you’re healthy, taking care of yourself?”
“I think so. I mean, I try to take care of myself. We eat a lot around here, but we also have a lot of fresh food. Healthy food. If you don’t count bread pudding, of course.”
He attempted a smile at that, his gaze sweeping over her face. “Alma’s bread pudding is hard to resist.”
“Yes, it is.”
He took another bite of his food. “I suppose you’ve heard I was married once.”
And yet another shocking confession. “Yes, just like me. How ’bout that?”
He sat back and stared across the table at her. “She died.”
Callie went for honesty. “I’d heard that, too.”
But she wanted to ask him how his wife had died and if that was why he seemed so shut off and cautious. Or if there was something else about his childhood that had shaped him, too.
“We didn’t have a good marriage.”
Another revelation. “I’m sorry for that, too, then.”
“I couldn’t help her.”
Callie was beginning to wonder if this was a confession or a warning. “You’ve had some tough times.”
“Yes, I have. But so have you.”
“We can compare notes.”
“No comparing. My wife had issues and they finally caught up with her.” He looked away again, out toward the flowing water of the little bayou. “It’s hard to help someone when they don’t want to be helped.”
Callie threw down her white linen napkin and gave up on eating. “Okay, Tomas, I have to ask this because I’m the curious type. What exactly happened with your wife?”
“An overdose,” he said, his tone flatlined. “She was addicted to prescription pain medicine. I tried everything—rehab, clinics, therapy.”
So that explained why he’d taken her away. And probably explained why he didn’t like roses. Didn’t people always send roses, no matter the sickness?
“Oh, my. Oh, how horrible.” Callie wished she hadn’t pushed him, but at least now she knew the truth. “That’s just—”
“Tragic,” he said, his face a blank. “What about your ex-husband?”
“What about him?” She sat back up, moved her fork over her food. “He couldn’t handle me being so sick. He couldn’t handle a lot of things about me.”
Tomas lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I can’t imagine that.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, I’m being serious. You seem like a dependable, hardworking, loving, lovely woman. What’s not to handle?”
A confused heat rushed across her skin. “Well, when you put it that way...”
He leaned forward. “Callie—”
But the door opened and out came Eunice with their dessert. Just like that, the tension left Tomas’s face and whatever he was about to say remained unsaid.
“All fresh and chilled,” Eunice said with pride as she placed the pretty china dessert plates and two cups of steaming coffee in front of them. “Did you enjoy your lunch?”
“We did,” Tomas said, his gaze hitting on Callie with a touch of regret. “As always, the food was great.”
Callie thanked Eunice and tasted the strawberries. “This is wonderful.”
Eunice gathered their entrée dishes and smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. “Take your time with dessert and coffee. It’s a nice day.”
After Eunice went back inside, Callie put down her fork. “I should get back to work.”
“Finish your dessert first,” Tomas said. But the command was gentle. “Don’t let me scare you, Callie.”
“I’m not scared,” she said. “I’ve always been nosy and curious, so thank you for being honest with me.”
He stared at his plate, his own strawberries and cream barely touched. “I want...”
He didn’t finish.
Callie watched his face for signs of anger or confusion, trying to understand what he really wanted. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Tomas. I’m a big girl. You and I have been through similar circumstances. We’ve both been married and we’ve both lost a lot. That makes us doubtful and cautious.” She stood, her need to flee the scene overcoming her need to understand him. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. I don’t even understand what you’re trying to tell me.” She turned to leave. “Thank you for lunch.”
But his hand on her arm stopped her. “Callie, wait.”
“What is it?” she asked, her heart bumping a heavy thud, her brain trying to connect the dots. “What do you want to say to me that you’re afraid to say? That you can’t do this again? That I’m just here as one of your hired people and you don’t want anything else from me? I get that. I’m okay with that. I had a bad experience with my husband and...as selfish as this sounds...I’m not looking for anything else. I’m not looking for anyone else. So relax. We’ll get through this.” She looked down at his hand holding her there. “We both know we don’t want to go through anything heavy again, right?”
He tugged her an inch closer, his eyes turning a dark blue. “I wanted to tell you... What I wanted to say to you is...your husband left. I stayed, Callie. I stayed. I stayed with my wife until the very end. So I’m not like him.” He let go of her arm then. “You need to think about that.”
Shocked, Callie could only nod. “All right, I think that’s admirable and I’ll remember that, but you don’t owe me any explanations, Tomas. Now I have to get back to work.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said.
“What?”
“I want to help you, with the garden.”
Callie wasn’t so sure about that. She needed some alone time to digest his doublespeak. “But you don’t need to—”
“My estate, my choice,” he replied. “C’mon. We’re burning daylight.” Then he whistled to Elvis and started off d
own the steps.
* * *
Three hours later Callie stood back to admire their handiwork. After she’d called a few of her hired workers to give her an excuse not to be alone with Tomas, they’d planted more lilies, several azaleas, some cast-iron plants and lots of lush ferns and hostas. Callie wanted the long, wide garden paths to be covered with a mixture of different plantings, so she’d spent the afternoon absorbed in that task, rather than thinking about the man who’d insisted on helping her.
“It looks great.”
She ventured a glance at Tomas now, remembering their intimate conversation at lunch. He looked adorable with dirt all over his shirt and hands. A fine sheen of perspiration colored his tanned face. He’d worked beside her and the others without complaint and with very little conversation. But just having him near had added a whole new dynamic to the workday.
“Thanks,” she said, wondering how she’d been able to concentrate with him hanging around all afternoon. But she had to admit it had been nice having some adult help. He’d been polite to the team, but not overbearing or bossy. “And thanks for helping. You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“I wanted to help.”
The sound of the teens loading up their tools echoed through the late-afternoon wind.
“They sure are ready to get going.” He took a quick glance at the finished garden. “Why do you come alone sometimes? I told you to hire as many people as you need.”
Did he think she was taking advantage of him? Or maybe not taking what he offered had insulted him?
“I like being alone out here,” she admitted. “It’s quiet and peaceful and...it gives me time to reflect and talk to God.”
He smiled at that. “You talk to God?”
“All the time,” she replied. “Don’t you?”
“Rarely.” He shook his head. “But I’m beginning to get reacquainted with Him since I’ve been here.”
“That’s good,” she said. “I like that.”
Tomas moved closer to her. Out over the water, the sun was beginning to set. Callie watched the shimmering rays piercing through the cypress trees, their heat changing from bright yellow to muted gold. At this very minute, with Tomas standing so near, with her plants and flowers freshly embedded in the ground, she realized two things.
She’d made a mark on Fleur House, left it better than she’d found it, created beautiful colors to surround it and complement it.
She’d also been marked by this place and its new owner. Marked in a permanent way that would bring her right back to this spot and this sunset over and over. This was the kind of memory a person saved tucked away, the kind a person only brought out at special times.
“What a sweet sunset,” she said, her heart content and full of an overwhelming thankfulness, even while her knees knocked with awareness. This man made her jittery, but she liked being near him all the same. “I love the sunset over the bayou.”
“You didn’t want to be alone with me, did you?”
Shocked, she shook her head. “What?”
“You called in reinforcements.”
Was she that obvious? “I needed their help.”
“We could have done this without them.”
“Maybe, but you are paying them to work.”
He gave her one of those scowl smiles. “Okay, we’ll go with that then.”
She dusted her hands against her jeans. “Let’s go get washed up.”
When Tomas reached out his hand to her, Callie took it and felt the grit of dirt and mud pressed there between them, branding them and changing them.
“You’re still scared of me.”
“I’m still trying to figure you out.”
“Good luck with that.”
“I’ll get there eventually,” she replied with a wink.
He glanced over at her, his expression as golden and bright at that setting sun. “But time for you to rest now, okay?”
“I will rest. I’ll have a good rest tonight. It’s nice to be able to sleep after a good day’s work.”
He nodded at that. “Maybe I’ll sleep better tonight, too.”
Callie walked with him back toward the big garage where she kept her larger tools. “I hope so. You shouldn’t work too hard, either.”
“Maybe I should try dancing in the rain,” he replied.
“Could do you some good, unless you melt when you get wet.”
He smiled over at her. “I think some of the good people of Fleur would enjoy watching that happen.”
She stopped a few feet away from her truck. “I know business is about business and we’re not supposed to take it personally, but...I wish there was a way to compromise, to save the shipyard. Not just parts of it, but all of it. Everyone here needs a job.”
He stared off into the sunset then cut his gaze back to her. “I’m trying, Callie. I mean that.”
Callie wanted to believe him.
“That’s all I can hope for,” she replied. After he helped her close up the toolshed and they’d both washed the grime away, she turned to face him again. “Guess I’ll get going.”
“See you soon,” he said.
Callie called to Elvis and loaded him into the truck. When she backed out and turned onto the long driveway, he was still standing there watching, his silhouette surrounded by the last of the sun’s rays. And she remembered his words to her at lunch.
“He stayed,” she said to Elvis. “He stayed and watched us home.”
Chapter Eight
“Don’t cry. If you both start crying then I’ll cry and we’ll all ruin our makeup.”
Callie looked over at her baby sister. Brenna was wearing their mother’s wedding gown, but she’d altered it a bit and added some new lace across the bodice. The lace covered Brenna with a demure tease of material that moved down the delicate cap sleeves and came together with one pearl button at the back of her neck.
“I can cry since I’m the oldest,” Callie said through a sniff.
Alma nodded then wiped at her eyes. “And I can cry because I’m still a newlywed myself.”
Brenna blinked back her tears. “And I can cry because I’m marrying the most wonderful man on earth and I’m afraid I’ll do something to let him down, to let both of you down. And Papa—”
“Enough with the letting down,” Alma admonished, her hand slapping gently at Brenna. “You are going to have a long, happy life with Nick. And we are going to be two of the greatest aunts ever to your children.”
Brenna bobbed her head. “I expect to be an aunt one day, too. Alma, you hear me?”
Alma grinned. “I hear you.”
Callie and Brenna both caught on to that grin.
“What?” Brenna asked while her sisters continued to fuss over her dress. “Out with it, Alma.”
Alma’s eyes grew misty again. “Oh, all right. I didn’t want to steal your thunder but...”
Callie clutched Alma’s hand. “Are you pregnant?”
Alma couldn’t speak. She nodded, swallowed, smiled, cried.
“Oh, oh,” Brenna grabbed Alma and pulled her close. Callie put her arms around Alma, touching on the lace of Brenna’s dress.
“A baby,” she said, the thought of it crushing her with a sweet intensity. “We’re going to have a baby.”
Brenna stood back to stare at Alma. “Does Julien know?”
“Yes,” Alma replied, still blubbering. “We found out last week. I’m six weeks along, and I wasn’t going to say anything until after the wedding but...I wanted y’all to know.”
“I’m glad you told us,” Brenna said, giggling through her tears. “So glad. What a nice wedding surprise.”
Callie hugged Alma again. “The best. I’m so happy for you.”
Alma found the
tissue box and passed it around. “Let’s keep it among family for now. I can’t believe it. We’ve only been married six months.”
“That’s kind of how things work,” Callie pointed out. “For some people.”
Brenna gave her a sharp look. “You can still have a family one day. Tomas—”
“Is not available,” Callie said. “I told y’all about the odd conversation I had with him last week.” Well, she hadn’t told them everything. For some reason, Callie was very protective of her time with Tomas. She thought about telling her sisters that he’d grown up nearby, but for some silly reason she held even that little snippet of information to herself. “He went through a lot with his wife. I think he still has cold feet in the love department. And to be honest, so do I. Tomas and I are just friends. Very tentative friends.”
“But he held your hand. You told us,” Alma said while she followed Brenna around, making sure her hair was perfectly styled in an upswept do.
“He did hold my hand and we had a nice lunch and he helped me plant part of the garden and... But that does not make us an item. I’m working for him. Nothing more.”
“Tomas is supposed to be here tonight,” Brenna reminded her for the tenth time. “And I was supposed to be ‘just working’ with Nick. Now I’m wearing a wedding gown and he’s waiting for me at the front of the church.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Callie retorted. “And I’ll smile and be nice to Tomas, but I won’t pin my hopes on him. That’s just not fair to him or me.” She shrugged, causing her chiffon bridesmaid dress to shimmy. “Besides, I like being single. I like being able to do my own thing. Since Dewayne left, I don’t get teased or fussed at for going to church, for believing in God, for eating pie, for buying shoes. I don’t have to answer to any man, ever again.”
Her sisters didn’t look convinced.
“It’s not about answering to a man,” Brenna, newly minted in the wisdom department, replied with a knowing look. “It’s about the man and figuring out the answers together. You know—the one man meant for you. The one God has chosen for you.”
“So Dewayne wasn’t my chosen one?”
Brenna thought on that. “Dewayne was stupid, plain and simple. But God gave you the strength to see that and now you are free. Free to find the man.”
