THE CALLAHANS OF TEXAS # 2
EMILY’S CHANCE
SHARON GILLENWATER
a division of Baker Publishing Group
Grand Rapids, Michigan
To our precious granddaughter, Kylie Elizabeth Gillenwater. May the Lord hold you close to his heart and always keep you in his care.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
Jeremiah 29:11–13 NIV
1
Man meets woman. Man loves woman. Man marries woman.
Chance Callahan looked down at the three cartoon scenes he’d drawn on some scratch paper a few days earlier. A scruffy cowboy and pretty lady running from an old building, a raging fire behind them. Pretty lady smiles at tired, dirty cowboy, and his heart pounds out of his chest, stars in his eyes. Beautiful bride and love-struck groom standing before the preacher.
If only it were that simple.
It was only the second of February, and he already had spring fever.
Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the notes he’d made that afternoon while he and the insurance claims adjuster inspected the old museum. As a building contractor, Chance had figured out before the man arrived that the structure couldn’t be saved.
Which meant the Callahan Crossing Historical Society meeting tonight was going to be about as cheerful as a coroner’s inquest. He wished he could tell them – and his pretty lady – that the building could be repaired at a reasonable expense. But it couldn’t. It had suffered too much damage from the fire that had ravaged their small town a week earlier.
The building was almost a hundred years old, and most of it had been affected in some way by the fire. The whole thing would have to be brought up to current fire and health codes. It would cost far more than what the insurance would cover.
In many ways, worrying about a museum when a third of the town had been destroyed seemed just plain wrong. So many families had lost everything; some both their homes and businesses. Ranchers and farmers had lost livestock, pastures, and miles of fencing.
The only blessing was that no one had been killed or seriously injured. Though badly shaken by the experience, folks would pick up and get on with their lives. Most planned to stay in Callahan Crossing. But a few had no way – or no heart – to rebuild and had already moved away.
His mom felt that opening the museum again after a decade-long closure would lift folks’ spirits. She thought it might even bring in a little money from tourism and give the town a boost. Particularly if it was done right this time, with good displays and organization instead of a bunch of odds and ends thrown together in a jumble.
He didn’t see how that little ol’ museum could do much for the town, but setting it up would keep Emily Rose Denny around for a while. And that was something he wanted. Badly.
Satisfied that he’d included everything in the report, he clicked the print icon on the computer screen and waited as the laser printer zipped out thirty copies. He didn’t know how many people would be at the meeting tonight, but he believed in being prepared.
He couldn’t think of any suitable options for the museum right off the top of his head, though surely there must be some. He owned a building downtown that he’d been fixing up, but it was four times the size of the one they’d planned on using. His mom had been concerned because they’d barely had enough items to put in the old one. They had less after the fire. Even if he offered to donate his building, it wouldn’t be suitable. Two big rooms with a handful of odds and ends would look dumb. And it sure wouldn’t draw tourists.
For now, Emily was busy trying to salvage what she could, but he didn’t know how long that would last. Though only part of the building had burned, there was extensive smoke and water damage to the contents. He doubted there was much worth keeping. They might have to abandon the whole project, and she’d skedaddle back home fast as greased lightning.
He’d find a way to stop her from heading back to San Antonio, even if he had to propose marriage to do it. Courting her first would be better, of course, but sometimes a man had to charge out of the chute to win the prize.
And hope he didn’t land in the dirt instead.
Leaning his head against the back of the chair, he closed his eyes and pictured the pretty blonde who had been hired to reorganize and redesign the museum.
Chance had first met Emily during the fire. The chief had ordered the Callahans and a few other volunteer firefighters to canvas the town and make sure everyone had evacuated. At that point, it was impossible to control the wind-whipped grass fire that had become a mile-wide inferno. They could only try to save lives.
The smoke had been so thick that he almost didn’t see her van outside the museum. When he told her to leave, she promptly ordered him to carry out some boxes she hadn’t gotten to. She hadn’t been exactly bossy, just determined to save precious local history, old pictures, and historical documents that had been gathering dust for decades. Foolhardy, he supposed. Especially when it wasn’t her town’s history she was trying to save. But if they hadn’t done it, everything would have gone up in flames. That whole section of the museum had been completely destroyed.
He’d sent her to his parents’ house at Callahan Ranch, only to see her again late that night with his mom and sister helping at the shelter their church had set up.
At twenty-nine years old, he was ready to settle down. Unfortunately, the eligible females in the area – at least the type he might want for a wife – were few and far between. Over the years, he’d dated almost every single woman in the county who seemed the least bit interesting. And almost as many from the neighboring counties. But he never took anyone out more than a few times. Better to hurt their feelings early than to let them get their hopes up and hurt them worse.
He’d quickly learned that many women were more attracted by the Callahan wealth and name than they were by him. He wanted what his parents had; what his sister, Jenna, and her new husband, Nate, had – a deep and lasting love that would weather the ups and downs, the good and the bad.
He’d never experienced more than a passing fascination with a woman until he met Emily Rose. With her, it had been love at first sight. Well, maybe at second sight, since it was so dark from all the smoke the first time that he hadn’t gotten a real good look at her.
When he walked into the church shelter about 1:00 the next morning, he’d been filthy from fighting the fire, exhausted, hungry, and heartbroken by the devastation he’d seen. She glanced up and gave him a smile that almost knocked him over. He looked into her gentle, deep blue eyes and thought, She’s the one.
He didn’t know if the Lord had been speaking to him, or if he’d heard the whisper of his own heart. It didn’t much matter. He intended to ride his pony down this trail and see where it led. Lord willin’, it wouldn’t be off a cliff.
Besides working at the museum, Emily had spent numerous hours helping at the shelter. She was a total stranger who’d only arrived in town a couple of days before the fire, but she cheerfully served meals and helped distribute donated food and clothing. Both yesterday and today when he’d taken a break from the cleanup efforts and gone to the shelter for lunch, he’d spotted her holding someone’s hand, giving another a shoulder to cry on, or praying with people.
Other than when he met the insurance man at the museum, he’d spent the past two days piling up debris and ashes with his bulldozer and loading them into his company dump truck to be hauled away to the new landfill.
He and Emily both had been putting in such
long hours that he hadn’t had a chance to talk to her alone for more than a few minutes. How was a man supposed to get to know the woman he wanted to marry if they couldn’t spend time together without everybody and their uncle listening to the conversation?
“Lord, I sure would appreciate it if you could make a way for Emily to stay here a while. I can’t shake the feeling that you sent her here for me, that there’s going to be something good between us. But we’ll never find out if she hightails it back to San Antonio.”
Stacking up the copies of the report, he slipped them into a blue manila folder and set it on top of the big U-shaped oak desk. If he hustled, he could take a shower before walking across the yard to the ranch house for the meeting. Stinking like diesel fumes, soot, and sweat wasn’t the way to make a good impression on a woman, particularly a city gal who was probably used to men in expensive suits and smellin’ purty from fancy cologne.
Scooping ground coffee into the coffeemaker, Emily spotted Chance through the window as he walked toward the ranch house. She straightened the hem of her light orange sweater and brushed a piece of lint from the matching slacks. Then she silently told herself to quit primping.
He opened the back door, stepped into the kitchen, and flashed her a smile. “Hi, darlin’. Am I late?”
“Right on time.” If any other man called her darlin’, she’d punch him. Somehow it didn’t sound disrespectful coming from Chance; it seemed sweet and sincere.
Slightly over six feet tall, with the physique of a construction worker, the handsome builder and cowboy had an easygoing charm that spoke more of confidence than pride. He was a man comfortable with himself and his place in life. He was also one of the most kindhearted, godly men she had ever met.
A drop of water glistened in his dark brown hair, and she caught a light, refreshing hint of aftershave as he leaned against the cabinet next to her. His bright turquoise shirt emphasized his dark tan. He laid a blue manila folder on the counter. “Did Mom get my message?”
“She didn’t mention it.” Emily put the coffee scoop back into the can, snapped on the lid, and moved it toward the back of the counter in case they needed to make more later. She removed a package of yellow and green striped paper napkins from a paper grocery sack, then folded it up and laid it on the counter, revealing the answering machine. A red 1 blinked up at her, so she pushed the play button. At the sound of his voice saying, “Hi, Mom,” Chance reached over and deleted the message.
“I don’t have good news.”
Emily flipped the switch on the coffeemaker, turned to face him, and looked up into clear, green eyes filled with concern. Her heartbeat quickened. “How bad is it?”
Before he could answer, his mother swept into the kitchen, wearing her usual Wrangler jeans and cowboy boots with a light green silk blouse, strand of pearls, and pearl earrings. Her strawberry blonde hair curled softly about her face. Sue Callahan smiled when she saw her youngest son. “Oh, good. You made it.” She stopped in front of him and studied his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.
“There was a lot more damage than we first thought.” He spoke softly, so no one in the next room would overhear them. “The insurance company only covers what it costs to restore the building to the way it was before the fire. It won’t pay for bringing it up to code. And that’s going to cost a lot.”
He tapped his finger on the folder. “I wrote up a detailed report and made copies for everybody.”
Frowning, Sue opened the refrigerator and removed a pint of half-and-half, pouring it into a yellow pottery pitcher. She set it beside the matching sugar bowl and containers of French vanilla and hickory nut powdered creamers near the coffeemaker. “Can we use the insurance money to buy another building?”
“You should be able to since you didn’t have a mortgage. Though you may need to use some of the money to demolish the current building. It’s going to be an eyesore.” He glanced at Emily, then focused on his mom again. “I’m sorry to spring this on you right before the meeting. I left you a message, but you hadn’t checked the answering machine.”
“We were late getting home from town, and I didn’t think to look at it. Ramona left early to get her hair fixed, so she missed your call. I doubt I’d have solved the problem even if I’d known about it sooner.” Sue took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “We’ll just have to pray about this. At least some of us will. If we’re supposed to do this thing, God will provide a way.”
She looked at Chance again and tipped her head. “You look beat.”
“I am. But I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.” He glanced at the two Texas sheet cakes sitting on the counter. “And if I get some of that cake.”
“You’re putting in too many long hours. You should have taken a few more days to rest between fighting the fire and starting on the cleanup.”
“The sooner we get done, the quicker folks can start rebuilding. I’m only pitching in for a little while. Yesterday and today, the only ones working were the county road crews and me and my driver. But the state is sending in several teams with bulldozers and trucks. They’re supposed to arrive tomorrow. Work crews from the prisons at Colorado City and Abilene will come in daily to remove dead trees and pick up what the bulldozers can’t.
“Despite all the help, with a hundred houses burned, counting those two in the country, plus the gin and the businesses we lost, it’s going to take months to clear all the debris.”
“After you finish with that, you’ll be working just as hard helping people rebuild. You’re pushing yourself too much, son.”
“I’ll be busy, but it will be fun and not nearly as tiring. I’ve already gotten several calls from folks who had insurance. I have a meeting scheduled in the morning with one family. I anticipate more soon, so I won’t be running full throttle on the cleanup.”
Sue shook her head and looked at Emily. “I’m glad my boys have a good work ethic, but sometimes they take it a little too far. Like their father.” She focused on her son again. “I’ll move you up to the beginning of the meeting so you can go home and get some sleep.”
“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it.” Chance waited until his mother walked out of the room, then turned to Emily. He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Don’t start packing your suitcase yet. We’ll think of something to get this project off the ground.”
“Only if you can work miracles. I’ve seen the Historical Society’s budget and treasurer’s report. They don’t have any money to add to what they’ll get from the insurance.”
“Have faith,” he said softly. “I don’t think God brought you here just to make you go back home again so fast.”
“I hope you’re right.” When he dropped his hands to his sides, she was surprised by a sudden intense feeling of loss. A hug would be nice right about then. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.
2
Her thoughts spinning, Emily followed Sue into the living room and sat down on one of the wooden folding chairs they’d set up for the meeting. She was going to lose her job. It was certain now, not merely the possibility she’d considered for several days. Despite Chance’s optimism, Emily didn’t see how the Historical Society could continue with their plans to reopen the museum.
She didn’t need the job or the money. Her grandfather had provided a large trust fund that enabled her to live quite comfortably. Even lavishly if she wished. Theoretically, she could set up the Callahan Crossing Museum for free, but that wouldn’t look as good on her resume. Internships and volunteer positions already took up too much space in that document. She needed to add to the three other paid positions she’d had organizing and designing small museums.
Emily had known when she chose her career that competition for positions in large historical museums was stiff. But she was willing to start out as an assistant curator and work her way up the ladder.
Who was she kidding? She’d give her eyeteeth for an assistant curator position in a prestigious big city museum. Unfortunatel
y, usually only the largest museums hired people full-time. The others relied on part-time help or volunteers – with the emphasis on the latter.
Still, the opportunity to reorganize the Callahan Crossing Museum had been a blessing and a challenge she would have enjoyed. She had looked forward to turning it into something the town, and she, could be proud of.
Her parents would once again have a grand time pointing out the futility of her chosen profession. They had wanted her to go into medicine so she could join her father in his plastic surgery clinic, until they had finally realized science wasn’t her strength. Business or political science had been their preferred options.
When she had chosen a bachelor’s degree in history, they’d grumbled, then decided that if she went on to earn her PhD, she could land a prestigious job at a university or perhaps with the government.
After learning she intended to earn a double master’s in history and museum science, her mother had investigated the opportunities in the field and had thrown a fit. It would take Emily forever to achieve what they considered an acceptable level of success – head curator or director of a major museum where she would earn at least eighty thousand dollars a year. There simply weren’t that many positions available.
Emily was determined to prove them wrong, though she concluded it might be a slower process than she liked.
Glancing around the living room of Dub and Sue Callahan’s large ranch house, she paused to watch Chance. He had taken a seat in a big red leather chair, listening as Ed White, 15 who was in his sixties, spun a yarn about hunting javelina in South Texas. Chance smiled at appropriate moments and appeared relaxed.
But she knew differently. He cared for these people, and he hated to disappoint them. He hated to disappoint her, which was amazing. There hadn’t been many people in her life who’d worried about her feelings.
Emily's Chance (v5) Page 1
