Hometown Courtship (Love Inspired)

by Diann Hunt

  “I understand,” Callie said.

  “He really is a good young man. Just has a few issues to talk over with the Lord.” She hesitated, then said, “I guess we all do.”

  Callie didn’t know what to say to that. When it came to talking things over with the Lord, she’d been a little lax on a few issues herself.

  “Well, I hope to see you soon,” Annie said, clicking off.

  Callie certainly hadn’t seen that one coming. Maybe she and Brad had more in common than she realized.

  With Hammer at his feet, Brad sagged onto the sofa and absently pet his dog. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me, Hammer. I just keep being a jerk to Callie, even though I don’t want to.” The dog twisted his head this way and that so Brad could scratch in just the right places.

  “I know what happened to Nicole is not Callie’s fault. Once Nicole set her mind to something, no one could stop her. Anyone close to her knew that.” Hammer whined and nuzzled his nose deeper into Brad’s hand.

  “So why am I treating her this way?” Brad jumped up from the sofa and started to pace. Hammer snapped to attention and watched him. “I’ll tell you why,” Brad said. “She’s dangerous.” Hammer gave another uneasy whine. “Flashing those beautiful baby blues, that soft smile.” He stopped and looked at his dog. “Trying to melt my resolve, that’s what she’s doing.”

  His scowl deepened as he crossed the living room floor. “I’ll build that playhouse with her for Micah’s sake, but I don’t trust her. Oh, no. I’ve seen the likes of her before.” More pacing. “I have plans,” he bellowed, turning to Hammer, whose head was cocked to one side. “I am going back to South America, and no one is going to stop me.”

  He whipped around and stomped down the hall. “Least of all Callie Easton.” A little voice in the back of his mind told him he was being a jerk again, but he ignored it.

  While waiting at the stoplight the next afternoon, Callie called Heather. “You’ve been busy,” she said when Heather answered.

  “Well, hello to you, too.” Heather chuckled. “Yeah, I finally finished that big trial. I was so ready. So what’s going on with you and Brad?”

  “Wow, no beating around the bush with you,” Callie said.

  “I haven’t got the time.”

  “Well, there’s nothing exciting to report.” Callie pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of the car.

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not about to give you ammunition to use on me later, especially since I suspect you got me into this mess. You should have been a psychiatrist instead of a lawyer, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told,” Heather replied.

  “Well, just wanted to check in. I’ll call you later.” Callie knew Heather wanted her to analyze her feelings, but she just didn’t want to do that—not yet.

  Callie stepped through the door of the home and stopped at the information desk to ask for directions to Louise Sharp’s room. She meandered through the hallways, smiling at the various residents along the way. Normally, nursing homes bothered her, but this one was new and like a hotel. Bright lighting, beautiful fixtures, fresh lemony smells, happy residents. Taking a deep breath, her heart lightened.

  When she stepped into room 30, she spotted Annie Sharp sitting in a chair next to an elderly woman with mischief in her eyes.

  “Hi, Annie,” Callie said when she entered the room.

  “Callie, good to see you.” She smiled. “This is my mother-in-law, Louise Sharp.”

  Callie placed her bucket and inflatable basin on the bay-window ledge and walked over to Louise, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Louise gave her the once-over. “Not too fat and not too skinny. That’s good,” she said, followed by a curt snap of her head.

  “Mom, please.”

  “Well, it’s true. Too many young girls these days are nothing but skin and bones. Just like our Nicole.” Louise turned to Callie. “You look healthy. I like that.” Louise winked and Callie decided that despite the woman’s bluntness, she liked her.

  “Thank you,” Callie said with a grin. She turned to Annie, taking in the rumpled hair and clothes that said she didn’t really care if she got out of bed or not. Callie’s heart went out to the woman. This family had been through a lot, that was plain to see.

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road,” Louise said.

  Callie laughed. “All right.” She grabbed her things and began inflating the portable basin with her air pump.

  “My, my, the things they do today,” Louise said in amazement, watching the basin spring to life. “And to think I’ve gone with dirty hair for the past week without needing to.”

  Callie shot a look at Annie, who browsed through a magazine with disinterest.

  “These old tired bones just don’t work the way they used to.” Louise gave a grunt as she sat up straighter.

  “Well, this will fix you right up,” Callie said cheerfully.

  Once the basin was ready, she placed the opposite end of the tube that was attached to the basin into the bucket to deposit the rinse water. Callie then maneuvered Louise’s bed to a flat position.

  “You have any more pillows?” Callie asked.

  The woman raised a crooked finger. “Over there in the closet.”

  Callie grabbed some pillows and propped them beneath the older woman’s shoulders, so she would be comfortable.

  “You sure know what you’re doing,” Louise said.

  “I’ve been at it awhile,” Callie said. She explained about her aunt and uncle owning the Peaches & Cream businesses, and her involvement in the salon and ice-cream parlor.

  “That’s where Ryan’s girl is working, I think,” Louise said.

  Callie smiled and tested the water. “That’s right. Olivia is a hard worker. We’re thankful to have her.”

  “The Sharps are hard workers, every last one of them. Get it from their grandpa, not me. I’d rather take a nap.” She chuckled.

  Annie lifted tired eyes. “That’s not true. You’ve been the hardest worker of all. Caring for your kids, working on the farm, holding things steady. How you juggled it all, I’ll never know.”

  “You do what you gotta do. Oh, that feels nice,” Louise said when Callie ran the warm water through her hair. “I forgot how good it was to have clean hair.”

  “I can’t even find things in my purse, let alone balance my life,” Callie said.

  “I’d say you do pretty good if you’re working at the salon, helping Brad and still washing an old lady’s dirty hair.”

  “That’s one way to look at it,” Callie said.

  “What do you think of our boy, by the way?”

  “Now, Mom.” Annie looked at Callie and rolled her eyes.

  “Just wondering,” Louise said.

  “Brad is—is—He’s a good delegator.” That was the best she could do under the circumstances.

  “Well, that tells us a lot right there,” Louise said.

  “I’m not sure I understand.” Callie took extra time to massage Louise’s scalp, certain the older woman didn’t get such luxuries often.

  “It was in your voice. You’ve had a falling out. Not hard to imagine with Brad. He’s a good boy. As thoughtful as they come. But don’t get in his way or he’ll run over you.”

  “Mom!” Annie scolded.

  “Now, Annie, you know it’s true. The boy has always been headstrong, right from the start.”

  Callie measured her words. She couldn’t be too careful where Brad’s grandma was concerned. She might be old, but she was sharp—so to speak. “Brad is a nice guy, and I appreciate that he’s allowed me to work at the house.”

  “By the looks of you, I’m sure that wasn’t a hard choice for him to make.” The old woman’s words were starting to slur as she relaxed. “You keep this up, young lady, and I’ll put you in my will.”

  “You’ll put who in your will?” Everyone turned toward the voice.


  Callie locked eyes with Brad. And his eyes didn’t look too friendly.

  Brad wasn’t sure if it was a mirage or truly Callie Easton standing in front of him, working on Gram’s hair. Honestly, it seemed everywhere he turned, Callie was there. Sometimes physically. Sometimes only in his mind. But always there.

  Why couldn’t he shake her loose?

  This was his brother’s fault.

  “Well, look who’s here,” Gram said with a chuckle. “Did you remember the chocolate this time?”

  Brad said hello to his mom and walked over to Gram. He grabbed her hand. “Sorry, Gram, I forgot it.”

  His eyes flitted to Callie’s, but she was focused on what she was doing.

  Gram didn’t reply, obviously enjoying her massage.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, trying to hide his frustration.

  “Uh,” Callie looked to Annie for help.

  “I asked her to fix Gram’s hair.”

  “You got a problem with that?” Gram asked. No doubt Callie was doing a good job and Gram wouldn’t give her up easily.

  “No, just wondered,” he said pleasantly, not willing to take on three women by himself. Actually, fighting Gram alone was like taking on three women. “What are you getting fixed up for?”

  “There’s no law that says a girl can’t look nice, is there?”

  Once again he looked at Callie. This time she looked back, but when their eyes met, she turned away.

  “No, I guess not.”

  “The hair stylist who had been coming into the nursing home quit last week. Gram didn’t want anyone else to wash her hair—until I told her about Callie,” Brad’s mom said.

  Once Callie had the conditioner rinsed out of Gram’s hair, she fluffed it with a towel, disposed of the water and put everything away.

  “Would you like me to trim your hair for you?” Callie asked.

  “Oh my, could you do that?” Gram asked. “I can’t move much.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll just shift your bed up and prop you forward enough for me to get to your hair.” Callie pulled out her scissors and set to work on Gram’s hair, careful not to allow the hair to get down her nightgown.

  Brad didn’t like the look in Gram’s eyes one bit. And her smile told him that life as he knew it would never be the same.

  Have mercy.

  “How are you feeling, Mom?” Brad asked, trying to ignore Gram.

  “Doing all right.” Her appearance betrayed her words.

  “You know, Annie, we got a new hair color in at the salon that I think would be perfect for you. I’ll give you a free color treatment if you’ll let me try it out on you,” Callie said.

  Annie hesitated.

  Obviously, Callie could see that his mom needed a pick-me-up. He had to admit her kindness soothed his heart. “You can’t beat an offer like that, Mom.”

  If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.

  “I suppose not.”

  “Great,” Callie said. “I’ll call you when I get home, and we’ll set up an appointment.”

  Brad was certain he saw his mom perk up a little. He turned to Callie. “You did a good job on the house trim this morning.” He was careful to keep his voice controlled.

  “Thanks.”

  That was it? Just “Thanks”? She obviously was still angry with him about what had happened on Sunday. Which bugged him a little. Okay, maybe they needed to clear the air. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it yesterday, but maybe it was time, if they were ever going to…what?

  “So, Brad, what are you going to do once this house is done? You going to leave us again?” Gram asked, subtle as always.

  “I’ve got a remodeling job to do once the house is finished, before I make any major decisions,” he said. “And you know I don’t want to leave you, Gram. It’s just that—”

  “I know, I know. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” She turned her head down so Callie could snip the back near her neck. “Makes me wonder how your grandpa and I stayed in Burrow all these years without a thought of leaving.”

  “Everyone’s different,” Annie said.

  “I guess. It’s all those video games these kids play. You know what I’m talking about, Brad. You were glued to them when you were a kid.”

  He laughed. “Now, Gram, what does that have to do with me wanting to go back to my work?”

  “Those games have you moving all the time. No one can sit still. It’s spilled over into your adult life, you mark my words.”

  Callie grinned. Maybe she wasn’t so mad at him after all.

  He could almost feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead. It was enough that he had to finish this house project with her. Now he had to go and get himself tied up with her to make that playhouse for Micah. He was an idiot to suggest that. And now it appeared he would be running into her at the nursing home—if Gram had her way. Sometimes it seemed as though God were working against him.

  Then again, it could just be Gram.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time Callie made it home that night, she was pooped. After Louise’s hair, she’d had two more women from the home approach her and practically beg her to do the same for them. She caved. Others asked, but a staff member helped her get out of that—however, not before the administrator got her credentials and suggested she consider setting occasional appointments with the residents because it cheered them so much. Since she needed the money to do something for her aunt and uncle’s anniversary, she quickly agreed, though she had no idea how she would find the time to squeeze in one more thing.

  Callie walked to the bedroom to get Chaos. She hated keeping him in a crate, but the vet said it was the best place for him while she worked—that it would keep him out of trouble. After the mess he had made that one day, she knew it was true. Plus, she’d made sure she’d gotten a fine crate—large enough to move around in and to hold food and water bowls and a doggie blanket. When she stepped into her bedroom, Chaos jumped up, tail wagging a hundred miles an hour, paws doing a frantic shuffle.

  Callie laughed, bracing herself for the slobbery licks that were sure to come fast and furious. Once again a pang of regret wound around her heart when she thought of how little time she spent at home. It didn’t seem right to leave him alone so much. She blew out a sigh.

  With Chaos outside, Callie slogged into the kitchen to search for something to eat. One glance inside the refrigerator told her it needed a thorough cleaning. Her nose wrinkled. A science project lurked within. She sighed. Disorganization followed her everywhere. Before she had time to sink into despair, the phone rang.

  She thumped the fridge door closed and shuffled over to the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “I hope I didn’t get you at a bad time.”

  Energy shot through her, causing all nerves to stand at attention. Brad’s voice made her stomach flip. She wished it wouldn’t do that.

  “Oh, uh, no, no. What’s up?” She tried to remember if he had ever called her at home before. Seemed as if that was something she would remember but sometimes it was hard to separate dreams from reality.

  “I just wanted to thank you for helping Gram out tonight. You didn’t have to do that.” Did he think she had an ulterior motive? She tried to shake off the negative attitude. Something about Brad brought out her defensive side.

  “I was glad to help. She seems like a nice woman.” She settled in her favorite recliner-rocker.

  “She’s a sweet old woman. A little opinionated, but sweet.” He chuckled.

  She smiled, remembering his grandmother’s curt but honest words. Callie suspected that deep down his grandmother had a heart of gold.

  “So, why did you?”

  Crickets and bullfrogs called softly just outside her open window. An evening breeze fluttered through the curtains. The night sounds always soothed her. And his voice…

  “Callie?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Why did I what?”


  “Help her.”

  Her feet came to a halt, as did the rhythmic sway of the chair. His question surprised and perplexed her. “Your mom asked if I would go over and help her. There was no reason for me not to. So I did.” The more she thought about his question, the more the simmering anger that had started in her stomach accelerated to a full boil.

  “I just mean you’re working plenty already.”

  Backpedaling. That’s what he was doing now. Oh, no, Brad Sharp, you are not getting out of this one so easily.

  “So are a lot of people.” Her toe tapped steadily against the hardwood floor. The breeze now whipped her curtains with fury, the night sounds replaced by thunder. She ran to the door to get Chaos in from the rain.

  Lightening pierced the sky, shattering the darkness with white jagged lines. Callie shoved the door closed and bolted the lock.

  “It just seems odd. You don’t even know my mom or my grandma—that’s all I’m saying.”

  “That’s not all you’re saying. You’re saying much more. So just get to it, Brad. Tell me exactly what you mean by that. We need to talk about a few things anyway.”

  “Just wondering why you’re being so nice, that’s all. I mean, you can’t be doing it for me, since—”

  “You’re exactly right. I’m not doing it for you.” She stomped over to the refrigerator, clunked ice into a cup and poured herself a glass of iced tea.

  “That’s what I mean. So why—”

  “Are you this suspicious about everything? Do you think I want to get in good with your grandma to get to you?” she said sarcastically.

  “People have been known to—”

  “Are you kidding me? Don’t flatter yourself. You’re my supervisor on the job. Period.”

  “Listen, Callie, just calm down. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Me, calm down? What is it with you and women?”