by Lenora Worth
“We have to see if we can make things work.” Callie held back from sharing the intimate details of Tomas’s life. She wouldn’t betray his trust, even with her sisters. “I just want to be careful this time.”
“Nothing wrong with taking time to let a relationship grow,” Alma said on a grudgingly positive note. “I hope it all works out for you, Callie.”
“Thanks.” Callie stared out the window, lost in her own thoughts, until Alma pulled the car into the parking lot at the oncology center. She should be nervous about this checkup, but her mind was full to the brim with thinking about Tomas Delacorte. Could it be possible that he was the real deal?
She went in to see her doctor, her hopes high for a new future. A different kind of future.
When they exited the building two hours later, she was still thinking about Tomas Delacorte. Only now, she was thinking that last night would have to hold her steady for a while.
Because it would be her first and last date with Tomas.
Her cancer was back.
* * *
Tomas dialed Callie’s number again. He’d tried to call her all day but she wasn’t answering. So he left another message.
“Uh, it’s me again. I really enjoyed last night. Are you avoiding me?”
Had he scared her away?
So much for a romantic attempt to show Callie he cared about her. Maybe she didn’t get into fancy meals and candlelight. But they’d had a good time. He’d kissed her good-night and smiled at her when she’d turned at the door to wave to him. They’d talked about plans for the weekend, maybe a nice drive or a movie.
What had happened between then and now?
Maybe nothing. Maybe she’d just had a busy day, the start of a busy week. Maybe she was out on another landscaping job and had left her phone in the truck.
Maybe. Or maybe he’d pushed things too far last night. Maybe now that she’d had time to think, she’d decided they needed to cool things between them. Maybe she wasn’t ready, as she’d said last night. Callie loved her independence, loved being her own boss. And he did, too. But they’d connected last night.
Had he read all the signs wrong?
When his cell buzzed, he quickly checked the caller ID.
Nick.
“Hello,” Tomas said, trying to sound chipper. “Why are you calling me from your honeymoon?”
Nick laughed. “Just to tell you that my wife is so thankful for you and this generous gift. We’re having a blast. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get her to come home.”
“We can extend your stay.”
“No need. We miss everyone too much. Speaking of that, Brenna can’t reach Callie or Alma. Have you talked to Callie today?”
Tomas felt the jolt of unease shooting down his spine. “No, but she is finished with her work here. She’s probably moving on to the next project.” He wasn’t going to share the details of last night with Nick. That was between Callie and him.
“Hmm. Alma should at least answer her cell,” Nick replied. “I’ll try to call Ramon and see what’s up. I don’t want Brenna to worry too much, but she calls her sisters on a regular basis, no matter what side of the planet she’s on. And they always get back to her.”
“I understand,” Tomas replied, his gut burning. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
A deep dread settled over Tomas after he ended the call. He stood in the kitchen and stared out at the beautiful landscaping that had Callie’s stamp all over it. The once-dull yard now held splashes of color highlighted by a rich green carpet of fresh sod. Somewhere off in the house, he heard Margie and Eunice laughing and talking. He wished he could be so carefree, but a dark cloud hung over him like the Spanish moss gripping the old oaks.
He put the phone in his pocket, grabbed his keys and headed to his car. He was going into town to find Callie.
* * *
Callie sat with Alma in Alma’s cottage behind the café.
“What are you going to do?” Alma asked, her hand holding Callie’s. “Papa will suspect something if we don’t call him. He’s left several messages. Brenna and Nick have called.” She scrolled through Callie’s phone. “And so has Tomas.”
Callie let out a long sigh. “I’ll go and tell Papa later tonight,” she said. “I have to keep it together for his sake.”
“That’s right,” Alma agreed. “Dr. Griffin did say it was a small lump and that we caught it early. He said a lumpectomy could take care of it. It won’t be like last time, honey. We can beat this, Callie. We beat it once. We can do it again.”
Callie appreciated her sister’s optimism, but they both knew that when their mother’s breast cancer had come back the second time, Lola hadn’t survived. Callie closed her eyes. The doctor was optimistic, but he couldn’t predict anything until they did more tests. And possibly more surgery, a possible total mastectomy and reconstruction, more fear and doubt and sickness and...
Dear Lord, what do I do now?
She opened her eyes. “We’ll tell Papa tonight. You and Julien can come with me. Then I’ll call Brenna, but we can’t tell her the truth until she’s home. I purposely didn’t remind her before the wedding about this checkup, and I won’t spoil her honeymoon.” She nodded. “I’ll wait a while before I talk to my staff. I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell anybody, either. I’ll talk to Reverend Guidry. He’ll pray for me.”
“And Tomas?” Alma asked. “What about Tomas, Callie?”
Callie shook her head. “No. He can’t know about this. I don’t want him to know about this.”
“But—”
She took her sister’s hand in hers. “Listen, Alma. The man’s first wife died. Died. She was a drug addict—prescription drugs. He couldn’t save her. I won’t have him trying to save me, either.”
“But you’re not going to die,” Alma said, tears misting her eyes. “I won’t let you die.”
“You can’t make that call, honey,” Callie replied. “We both know that.”
“I won’t let it happen,” Alma said. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”
“Just don’t tell Tomas. I mean it,” Callie repeated. “I can’t take his pity or his anger. Just let me remember last night without all this...ugliness.”
* * *
Now he knew something was wrong.
He’d called Callie several times and she had yet to answer any of those calls. He’d gone by the nursery, but her staff had told him she was out on business. They didn’t know where she was or when she’d be back. He’d tried the café, but Winnie didn’t know where Callie was and Alma had taken the day off. What was going on?
A new thought entered his mind. Had something happened to Alma and the baby? Had she lost the baby? Margie had told him the good news just this week.
Her café employees didn’t seem to be concerned, so he dropped that line of thought. Alma had to be with Callie, wherever they were.
Had they gone on a road trip? Skipped town like Thelma and Louise? Or was he just being paranoid?
Shock simmered like a slow boil underneath the myriad feelings moving through him. He couldn’t focus on work, had even barked at sweet Eunice when she’d offered him a tea cake. Now dusk was settling like webbed lace over the gardens and bayou.
Tomas threw down the file he was trying to read and stomped out of the house and down to the gazebo. He stood just inside the open structure and remembered sitting here with her last night. They’d talked for hours, laughed at each other’s lame jokes, told each other intimate, quirky things that really didn’t matter. But being here with her had mattered. Being here with the woman he’d spotted dancing in the rain had awakened all the feelings he’d tried to hide. What had he done to her that she’d turn away so quickly?
Okay, so maybe he was a bit awkward and brooding. He’d worked on impr
oving that for most of his life. Maybe he could be cold and cruel at times. But with Callie, he’d let down his guard, stepped out in faith. He’d been so relaxed and comfortable he hadn’t even worried about all of his bad attributes.
But she’d vanished. Hiding from him?
His wife had done the same. When she could no longer deal with his moods and his workaholic mindset, she’d turned from him and found solace in self-medicating. Tomas hadn’t been able to save her from her pain. Had Callie sensed that in him? His fear, his hesitation? His inability to truly love.
“What should I do, Lord?”
He hadn’t even realized he’d said that out loud until he heard the echo whispering back at him. Tomas leaned his head against one of the sturdy columns, memories tearing through him with a knife-edged sweetness. He had not imagined last night. That had been real. The kiss had been real. Callie had been here with him, in spirit, in the flesh, in her heart. He’d seen it, felt it, memorized every aspect of their time together.
But he wouldn’t call her again and he wouldn’t try to find her. He wasn’t a stalker, after all. He was just a lonely man who’d finally opened up that protective shield he’d managed to create around himself.
The shield was back now. He’d give Callie time to explain why she wasn’t responding, but in the meantime life had to go on. A lesson learned, a risk he’d shouldn’t have taken and one he’d never take again. He’d stick to business from here on out. The best risk was a calculated one. Who knew that better than Tomas Delacorte?
He told himself all of these things, but he finally took a long breath and calmed down. Callie wouldn’t do this to him. She just needed some time. He could give her that time. They’d both agreed to take things slow.
But he’d have to learn patience in the process.
* * *
“What do you mean?”
Callie’s heart cracked at the sight of her father’s eyes watering. “I’m not sure how bad it is yet, Papa. We have to do tests, get another biopsy and then, possibly more surgery.”
She looked toward Alma for help.
“We have to be hopeful,” Alma said, her left hand gripping Julien’s. “We have to believe Callie will be okay. Dr. Griffin thinks with chemo he can hold off on any radical surgery for now. But he wants to start the chemo as soon as possible.”
Papa shook his head. “I know all about okay, girl. I want her to be well and free of cancer. We have to hope for dat, right?”
“Right,” Julien said, his expression solemn. “Alma and Callie are gonna fight this, Papa. You know how stubborn they can be. And Brenna, too.”
Papa’s expression puddled into a frown. “Brenna? Has anybody talked to Daughter Number Three?”
“We’re waiting,” Callie said, clearing her throat so she wouldn’t burst into tears. “I won’t upset her while she’s on her honeymoon.”
“But she’s gonna keep calling,” Papa replied. “What should I tell her?”
“I’ll call her first thing tomorrow,” Callie said. “I’m just too tired tonight. I’ll tell her I had a busy day today, which I did.”
“And I took the day off because I had a lot of morning sickness,” Alma added. “Which is true.” She glanced at Callie.
Callie could vouch for that. They’d both felt sick to their stomachs after hearing the doctor’s report this morning.
Their father stared at them with big, solemn, concerned eyes. Then he inclined his head toward the picture of their mother that Brenna had painted years ago. It hung in the place of honor over the fireplace of his bayou home. “We are gonna beat dis. You have your mama watching over you, chère. So we just gotta batten de hatches and get on with getting you fixed up.”
He gave her a big, encouraging smile even while the tears streamed down his face.
“Papa...” Callie ran to her daddy’s arms, unable to speak.
He held her close, patting her head the way he’d done when she’d skinned her knee long ago. Then he whispered sweet words into her ear. “Lache pas la patate.”
Don’t let go of the potato. Don’t give up.
“I won’t, I promise,” she replied, tears burning at her eyes. “I’ll fight, Papa. I will.”
Alma and Julien both hugged her close, too. “We’re right here with you,” Alma said. Julien winked at her then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
Callie basked in the love and support of her family. But her heart ached to be in Tomas’s arms, to feel his strength and his support. Last night, she’d finally opened her bruised heart. She’d finally given in to the emotions and the tides that kept pulling her toward Tomas. Had she known today would be different? Had she deliberately tested fate last night, in hopes that today would be a sunny, beautiful, normal day?
Yes, oh, yes. She’d taken a chance and she’d lost.
Last night was just a dream...in an ordinary world. Her world had just gone from ordinary to difficult and trying, frightful. And doubtful. She’d seen what this disease could do to two people. Dewayne had caved under the pressure. She wouldn’t watch Tomas do the same.
Please let me survive this test, Lord. And please give me the strength to stay away from Tomas Delacorte.
Because he deserved a second chance with someone who could be there with him for the long haul.
Chapter Thirteen
A week had gone by.
Tomas had not heard a word from Callie.
He roamed the big house at night, thinking about her. During the day, he threw himself back into his only salvation—work. He went back to what he was so good at—brooding and buyouts. But he couldn’t forget that one night and having Callie in his arms.
He’d given up on calling her. She did not respond to his calls and the only explanation he could pick up by casually asking was that she’d gone to New Orleans for a few days of rest and relaxation. That almost made sense because she’d worked hard on his property for weeks now. She deserved a break.
But why hadn’t she mentioned it to him or at least called to let him know?
Had Callie left because of him?
He stayed away from town, determined to go back to his solitude. But unlike before, his solitude was now a torment rather than a comfort. He read books but hardly remembered the words. He listened to music but barely heard the lyrics.
Eunice and Margie shadowed him, worried, concerned, frightened. They’d seen his black moods before. But they had not seen him this dejected and brooding.
Tomas realized just how bad things had gotten when Eunice brought in a lunch tray and left it by the door, rather than bringing it to his desk and staying to chat awhile.
Tomas stared at the soup and sandwich and the glass of iced tea. On a side dish, the ever-present cookie lay warm from the oven. They always remembered his sweet tooth.
He stared at his computer screen then got up, walked past the tray and headed down the hallway to the kitchen. He heard them whispering in hushed tones but kept walking.
They both looked up, shocked and unsure, when he rounded the open arch from the hallway.
“Oh, hello,” Margie said, scurrying to look busy. “Did you want more tea, another sandwich?”
“I can get you something else if you’d like,” Eunice added.
“No, nothing. I’m...fine.” Tomas motioned to the big chunky pine table. “Let’s sit.”
Both women did as he asked, their expressions filled with concern. Margie brought the plate of fresh-baked cookies with her, a soft smile pasted across her wrinkles. Eunice got the coffee, her brown eyes filled with a hopeful light.
Tomas waited for them to find their chairs then leaned forward, his gaze on the sisters who’d lived next to his mother and him and had taken care of him for so long. Even Margie’s husband, stodgy old Bob, had helped him along when he’d been at his wors
t. At least Bob had the good sense to get out of the house. He’d gone into town to repair a porch for an elderly lady.
“Are you gonna fire us?” Eunice asked, her fingers twisting a frayed dish towel.
“Did we do something you don’t like?” Margie asked, her hand on the sturdy table.
Tomas shook his head and pushed a hand over his hair. “I’m not firing anyone. I came in here to apologize to you. I’m sorry I’ve been so moody lately.”
Margie shot Eunice a pointed glance. “I told you he wouldn’t fire us.”
Eunice shrugged. “We were part of the conspiracy.”
“What conspiracy?” Tomas asked. “What are you talking about?”
“We helped set things up for your big date with Callie. We thought—”
“You thought Callie and I would hit it off and that she’d come around more and more?”
“Yes.” Margie bobbed her head. “Did we do something wrong?”
“Not you, but me,” Tomas replied, glad to have someone to talk to. “I think I said or did the wrong thing. She’s not talking to me now.”
“Have you been into town to see her?” Eunice asked.
“I tried to see her after our date. But...she’s never around when I happen to go by Callie’s Corner.”
“She’s a busy woman,” Eunice said. “But she should come out here to check on the place. She needs to make sure this landscape will hold. You should call her and remind her of that.”
“She finished her part,” Tomas said. “Maybe when she’s finished with a project, she’s really finished.”
Margie gave him a sympathetic smile. “Callie’s not that way, Tomas. She liked you. We all saw that. It must be something else.”
“What?” he asked, truly wanting to know. “What else could it be? Do you think she’s figured out who I really am?”
“We didn’t tell her,” Eunice replied, shaking her head. “We haven’t mentioned that to anyone. We haven’t told anyone that we used to live next to you, either.”
