by Lisa Carter
“Nice try.” Callie laughed. “But no dice with your big girl.”
He patted the wooden saddle with the painted replica of an American flag. “She’s got good taste.”
Callie stepped into the silver stirrup of an adjacent black steed. “Since we’ve got you this year, I think I’ll have a little fun myself.” She batted her lashes at him. “And if I wasn’t so modest, I’d say Maisie learned her good taste from me.”
He hoisted Maisie onto the pony. “Modest and beautiful. All in one package.”
Callie’s lips curved.
He climbed into the saddle behind his daughter, wrapping his arms around Maisie to keep her secure.
Maisie rocked the stationary pony as if by sheer willpower she could get the carousel spinning. “Big gull.”
“Not too big, too fast.” He nuzzled his nose in her hair. “Be Daddy’s baby for a little while longer? Okay?”
“’Kay, my daddy.”
He placed her hands around the center metal pole. “Hold on tight, baby girl.”
“Maisie! Maisie!”
Ahead of them in the curve of the platform, Amber’s girls waved. One of the twins sat astride a roaring tiger, and the other rode a giraffe.
Standing between the preschoolers, Amber smiled. “Hey, y’all.”
There was a sudden shudder. With a whir of gears, the carousel began to move. Callie grabbed on to her own pole. Amber steadied herself between her girls.
When her pony began to glide up and down, Maisie gasped. But over her shoulder, she threw her father a happy grin. He tightened his hold around her middle, relishing the opportunity to hold her close.
As the merry-go-round picked up speed, a carnival tune lilted from the calliope. Shrieks of delight erupted around them. Callie smiled over at him. “It never gets old.”
Nor did being with Callie and Maisie.
The calliope wound into an old carnival tune he recognized. But instead of K-K-K-Katy, he changed the words to fit the small person in his arms. And in his heart.
Bending, he whisper-sang into her ear. “‘M-M-M-Maisie, beautiful Maisie. You’re the only g-g-g-girl that I adore.’”
Maisie didn’t let go of the pole, but she nestled the crown of her head against his chest.
“‘When the m-m-m-moon shines over the cowshed—’”
Breaking off, he grinned at the bemused smile on Callie’s face. “Gotta love those farm girls.”
She laughed so hard she almost unseated herself, but she quickly repositioned her grip on the pole.
“May-zee song.” Maisie elbowed him. “My daddy.”
He took up where he left off. “‘I’ll be waiting at the k-k-k-kitchen door...’”
Callie let go of the pole long enough to clap. The ride slowed to a crawl and then to a standstill. After dismounting, he plucked Maisie off the pony and offered his hand to Callie.
She swung her leg over, but stumbled into him. “Haven’t quite got my carousel legs back this season.”
The twins raced over. Amber’s blue eyes held a smile. “Has Callie taken you to see her photography exhibit at the town hall yet?”
He arched his eyebrow, and Callie dropped her gaze. “Why no, Amber, she has not. I had no idea, in fact, that she’d entered a photography exhibit. Although, I’m not surprised, seeing that she’s so talented.”
“I’m not—”
“She is extremely talented.” Amber took firm hold of her daughters’ hands. “Everyone wants Callie to do their wedding photos or family portraits.”
Callie stepped off the platform, making way for other families to get on. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
With Maisie in his arms, he joined her. “More modesty?”
“Callie studied photography at college before she came home.” Amber caught his eye. “She’s always wanted to open her own studio.”
“Amber...” Callie glared.
Dragging their mother with them, the twins jumped to the ground in a move worthy of a paratrooper.
“Why don’t you two head there now?” Amber let go of her daughters and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Let me take our girls to the playground. They can work off some energy, and you can enjoy the photos.”
Callie shook her head. “I don’t think—”
“I think that’s a fabulous idea.” He widened his stance. “And thank you so much, Amber, for this invaluable information that Callie failed to mention.”
“Yeah.” Callie clenched her jaw. “Thank you so much, Amber.”
Smirking, Amber turned toward Maisie. “Want to come with us to the school playground, Maisie?”
Maisie’s arm tightened a fraction around his neck. “My daddy?” Lip protruding, she cut her eyes to Callie. “Cawee?”
Amber patted Maisie’s cowgirl boot. “Callie and your daddy are going to look at some pictures.”
He hugged Maisie close, her sweet baby smell tickling his nostrils. “We won’t be gone long, Maisie. You go have fun with the girls.”
Nodding, she wriggled, and he put her down. The girls each took one of Maisie’s hands.
Amber herded the children toward the far end of Main Street. “Take your time,” she called.
For the first time that day, they were finally alone.
He’d never been good at the dating thing, much less relationships, but with Callie it felt right.
Jake held out his hand. “I want to see your photos.”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “You may live to regret that.”
“I won’t. Although—” he jerked his chin toward the carousel “—I may have spoken too soon.”
Crinkling her eyes, she took his hand. “About what?”
His gaze bored into hers. “Maisie’s not the only girl I’m coming to adore.”
Chapter Fourteen
The closer they came to the town hall, the more nervous Callie became. Only Jake’s warm, work-calloused hand in hers prevented her from making a getaway. Her Faces of the Mountain series was different from her usual work.
She was only just now venturing beyond brides and families. Stretching herself and her craft, she’d tried to capture not only images but also what it meant to live in the Blue Ridge Mountains. To convey what her mountain home meant to her. Suppose Jake didn’t get the pictures? Or, worse, didn’t like them?
At the courthouse steps, he paused. “I like your hair like that.”
She tucked a tendril of dangling hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”
Blue as a Carolina morning, his eyes followed the movement of her hand. “But I like your hair however you wear it.”
Her pulse jerked.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I think you have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you, Jake.” Swallowing, she reached to brush a strand of hair out of her face, but he beat her to it.
“May I?”
She nodded, her heart clanging almost painfully against her rib cage. He rolled the wisp of hair between his fingers before gently feathering it behind her ear.
He dropped his hand. “We should go inside.” His voice had gone husky, thrilling her that being near her could affect him so.
She’d begun to believe love had forever passed her by. Until Jake McAbee arrived at the orchard.
Inside the town hall, reluctantly she turned him toward the exhibit containing her framed photographs.
She’d never liked anyone as much as Jake, and, other than her father, never admired a man so much. She teared up on a daily basis seeing the way he was with Maisie.
Putting Maisie to bed each night. Singing sweet little tunes in his rusty baritone she suspected he made up as he went along. Like on the carousel.
Was he the one God had planned for her from the beginning? If so, she was thankful for not only the good g
ift of Maisie, but for Jake, as well. If she wasn’t very careful, she would find herself completely— She sighed. Who was she kidding?
Amber was right. She did have it bad. Bad for an ex-soldier daddy with the most loving heart of any man she’d ever known.
He let go of her hand as he studied the pictures. Stepping back a pace to better examine her photos, he fingered the cleft in his chin. Twisting her stomach into additional knots.
She searched his features, anxious to know his opinion. The cleft in his chin melted her into a chocolate puddle. Everything about Jake McAbee liquefied her insides.
Avoiding him had been excruciating as she’d agonized over pursuing a relationship with a man from whom she was keeping secrets. Yet, in the end, she couldn’t let the possibility of what they could mean to each other slip from her grasp.
So she’d decided to tell him the truth about Tiff. Even though it would hurt him. Though it meant he might never trust Callie again. She had to take the chance.
Feeling the way she did about him, she could no longer withhold the truth. A real, lasting relationship shouldn’t be based on secrets. Wouldn’t survive secrets.
“I can’t decide which I like the best.” He cocked his head. “Autumn’s Splendor. Winter’s Solace. Spring’s Rebirth. Or Summer’s Resonance.” He reached for her hand. “You are very talented. Are there other photos of home you could show me?”
Her galloping heart slowed to a canter. He’d said, “Home.” He got it. He got her.
“I don’t have much time for photography. With Dad, the orchard and Maisie—”
“But I’m here now. I can help you. You deserve more time to do what you love.”
“I love the orchard, Dad and Maisie, too.” She let her shoulders rise and fall. “Other than the occasional paying client, this is a hobby.”
He put his hands on his hips. “It doesn’t have to be a hobby, Callie. Good gifts shouldn’t be wasted. And you shouldn’t waste yours.”
She needed to find the right time to share Tiff’s secret. To trust his love for Maisie. But not today. Nothing should be allowed to mar this perfect day.
But in the future, when their relationship was stronger...when she found the courage...and the words. Soon, she promised herself.
“You do so much for everyone else.” He ran his thumb over her hand. “I just want you to be happy.”
She looked into his eyes. “I am happy, Jake.”
Callie couldn’t remember ever being happier.
She was so incredibly happy it stole her breath. Her dad was well. She had Maisie. And Jake McAbee had come into her life. The past few years of her life, she’d been marking time. Holding her breath. Waiting for someone like him to find her.
Like the story Maisie loved so much, Sleeping Beauty, who’d waited for her prince to come into her tower—orchard bower in Callie’s case—and awaken her to life again.
Only thing missing from Callie’s story—the kiss.
He bit the inside of his cheek. “The Apple Festival may not have been the best idea for a date.”
She blinked. “The festival isn’t a good date?”
“Not when the only thing I can think about...” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.
“What are you thinking about, Jake?” she whispered.
He ran his hand over his head. “All I’m thinking about is where I can kiss you.”
Callie’s heart pounded. “Not when?” Because when was the only thing on her mind.
“The when depends on the lady.”
She looked at him. “This lady says there’s no time like the present.”
His arms slipped around her waist. “I like the way you think.”
Callie arched her eyebrow. “I think we’ve waited long e—”
Swooping, his lips found hers. But almost as quickly he drew back, giving her the freedom to break away if she wished. Callie didn’t wish.
Instead, her hands traveled across his broad back and interlocked behind his neck. She pulled his head toward her mouth.
“Callie...” he murmured before his lips claimed hers again.
Kissing him, she reminded herself to breathe. He held her so gently, like a precious china teacup. She felt so cherished with him. Safe.
What she wanted him to feel, too. That with her, he’d found a safe place. A place where he belonged. That with her, he’d always feel as if he’d come home.
Applause broke out around them. They sprang apart. They’d acquired an audience.
Miss GeorgeAnne sniffed. “About time.”
“Well done.” Miss ErmaJean’s fist pumped the air.
Miss IdaLee placed her hand to her throat. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t live to see the day.”
Callie flushed to the roots of her hair, but Jake didn’t let her drift far. He held on to her, his arm pressing her against his side. He gave Callie that crooked, one-sided smile, which invariably made her weak in the knees.
She licked her lip. Spearmint. Jake McAbee tasted like green spearmint gum.
“Don’t let us interrupt.” IdaLee gestured.
“Carry on,” GeorgeAnne urged.
“Pretend we’re not here.” ErmaJean fluttered.
He hugged Callie. “You’re not. I will. Don’t mind if I do.”
But five was definitely a crowd. “Jake...”
He laughed and pulled her toward the exit. “Rain check?”
Reaching the town hall lobby, she stopped him. “Would you look at that?” Her hand on his chest, through the fabric of his flannel shirt she felt his heartbeat accelerate. “Is that a rain cloud I see there in the sky?”
He smiled. “Rain cloud?” He pretended to peer through the glass-paned door. “Are you sure?”
Stretching on the tips of her toes, she leaned into him. “I’m sure. It’s forecast.” She tilted her chin. “I’ve always loved the rain.” Her lips parted.
His breath ruffled the lock of hair at her earlobe. “Then I say, let it pour.”
Jake smiled against her lips as he kissed her again.
But with people trying to enter the building, this kiss was far too brief. He drew her outside onto the sidewalk. “Wonder what Maisie is doing.”
“Probably wondering what we’re doing.”
They ambled down the sidewalk. “Shall we tell her?”
She blushed again. “Jake.”
He grinned.
She swatted at him. “Stop teasing.”
He tucked her hand into his, where it belonged.
Passing The Mason Jar, he cocked his head. “You were going to tell me more about this Matt person.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not how I remember it.”
“You were going to tell me about this emotionally deficient jerk who was too stupid to see Truelove’s greatest treasure.”
She pursed her lips. “A treasure, am I, then?”
His quiet smile reduced her to a quivery puddle of gelatin. “You are to me. And Maisie.”
She didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore. “His name is Matt Fleming.”
“Matt—” Jake’s eyes widened. “As in Amber?”
“Amber’s older brother. Soldier, tough like you. When he graduated high school, he joined the Marines and that was the end of us.”
Jake snorted. “Army beats jarheads any day of the week, sweetheart.”
Ignoring the interservice rivalry—and to satisfy her curiosity—she gave Jake a quick peck on the cleft in his chin. “Looks like I prefer soldiers. Go army.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “That’s my girl.”
She liked—no, she loved—the sound of that.
At a picnic table under the Kiwanis awning, they found her father, Amber and the children eating foot-long hot dogs.
Her dad waved a french
fry. “Figured you two would join us sooner or later.”
Crawling over Pop-Pop, Maisie plopped herself in “my daddy’s” lap. Jake pulled Callie next to him on the bench. Keeping her close.
Her father and Amber exchanged amused glances, but she was so happy Jake was a part of her life she didn’t care who knew.
After lunch Amber and her girls headed off for more carnival rides. Callie wanted to peruse the handicrafts for sale, but Maisie wanted to get her face painted.
Jake motioned Callie toward the street fair. “You enjoy yourself for a change. We’ll find you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Me be kitty.” Maisie captured his cheeks between her small palms. “My daddy, too.”
He shot Callie a wry look. “What have I gotten myself into now?”
She toyed with the end of her braid. “Last year Maisie insisted my face be painted with butterflies and flowers.”
His mouth dropped. “Seriously?”
“Better you than me, McAbee.” Nash twirled a toothpick in his mouth. “What a parent will do for their child, eh?”
With an air of exaggerated martyrdom, Jake set Maisie on her feet and took her hand. “Let’s go, Maisie.”
She bounced on the sidewalk. “Yay, my daddy! Yay spawkle! Yay gwitter!”
He groaned, but his smile belied his protests.
“Never let it be said I left any man to deal with face painting alone.” Nash took Maisie’s other hand. “I got your six, soldier.”
“Much appreciated.” Jake’s eyes darted to Callie. “Enjoy yourself, you hear?”
She gave him a two-fingered salute. “Aye-aye, Ensign.”
He shook his head. “That’s the navy, Callie.”
Nash slapped his shoulder. “Plenty of time to reeducate her, son.”
Jake saluted her back. “Challenge accepted.”
Roaming through the vendor booths, Callie did enjoy herself. She stopped to talk with one of her mother’s potter friends. She lingered at the metalworker’s stall, delighting in the whimsy of the whirligigs. Someone bumped into her.
Callie staggered. “I’m sorry I—”
A rough hand shoved her into the small alley between the hardware store and the post office. Stumbling, she fell into the brick wall.