His Daughter's Prayer (Love Inspired)

by Danielle Thorne

  “I hate school.”

  “It’s not so bad. You get to play outside and have treats. Let’s get ready now.”

  “No.”

  Mark tried to sit her up, but she cowered in his lap.

  “Come on, baby girl. Daddy can’t be late.” He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, looking for excuses. He stood up, then set her on the bed. “What do you want to wear today?”

  “I didn’t say my prayers.”

  “You said them last night.”

  “I need to say them again because I forgot something.”

  He exhaled to keep from losing his patience. “Okay. Let’s do it.” He knelt down the way Lois had taught her to do, and she jumped up beside him and steepled her little palms.

  With eyes wide open, she said, “Dear God, bless me so I won’t have to go to school today. Bless my hair, and bless Daddy...and I want a mommy and a cat.” She stopped and looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye.

  “I told you maybe Santa will bring you a kitten,” he stuttered, trying to sound stern. Her prayer for a mommy was a new addition. His mind swirled over the fact she’d tapped into his most nagging worry—that and the fact she’d mentioned her hair again. She hated having it combed.

  “I want a dog for Christmas, too,” Hadley added, scrambling up onto the bed.

  “Maybe.” Mark pointed toward her closet. “Go pick out your clothes and dress yourself like a big girl.”

  She frowned, and he waited for the usual explosion. “I’ll let you do your own hair,” he said, but to his surprise, she looked crestfallen. “Do you want me to brush it for you then?”

  Hadley flopped back on the bed and crossed her arms stubbornly. “I hate hair. I hate my hair. I hate all hair,” she announced.

  Mark shook his head as he left the room, hoping she was dressed by the time he was ready to go.

  He gave her a ball cap to wear in exchange for promising not to cry on the way to school. Her eyes welled up with tears, but he carried her inside and told the teacher she could wear the hat all day long if she liked. He hoped no one noticed her hair hadn’t been brushed.

  * * *

  Mark had been in such a rush to open the shop on time, he was pretty sure he’d forgotten to lock the door to the garage. Leaning over the front counter, he picked up an old salt shaker someone had dropped off in a donation box. The salt-and-pepper set was a find. They were vintage Fire-King with Dutch tulips painted on each bottle. The phone rang, and he mumbled a greeting as he balanced it between his ear and shoulder.

  “Mark? Hi, it’s Callie.”

  He cleared his throat to collect himself and took a deep breath. “Yes, hi, Callie.”

  “Hey, I have a question for you.” Her voice sounded tense.

  “Is everything okay? Did you get the hutch the other night?”

  “Yes, thank you, I got the hutch. By the way,” she added, “I’m looking for a bed frame now. A big one, but not expensive. Something elegant for a master bedroom in a farmhouse that I wish I hadn’t left today with my gas gauge on empty.”

  He repositioned the phone in his hand. “I’m sorry. What?”

  She laughed at herself, but it was stiff.

  “Are you okay?”

  She sighed into the phone. “I’m on the highway that runs past the old mill. You know, the one that comes into town past the library?”

  “Three seventy-one. What are you doing out there?”

  “I ran out of gas.”

  He couldn’t hold back a smile, but at least he didn’t laugh out loud. “Again? I would have guessed you’d outgrown that habit.”

  “Yes,” she answered, sounding anxious. “I know you’ve come to my rescue before, but that was then. Look, I just forget to watch for the fuel light to come on, and now I’m in the middle of nowhere with a hole in the wall, and I’m not going to make it to the hardware store and back before nightfall.”

  “How’d you get a hole in a wall?” Endearing as she was, Mark had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Could you come get me? My sister’s with a client, my brother-in-law and father aren’t answering their phones, and I really don’t have anyone else to call.” She tried to cover her embarrassment with a chuckle, but it didn’t work.

  “It must be eighty-five degrees outside by now,” he said to sympathize with her.

  “Sure feels like it.”

  “Yep, I’m on my way.” Mark realized he hadn’t thought the scenario through as he said it. It was near lunchtime, business would pick up, and if the Market closed, he would miss the most lucrative part of his sales day. He grimaced until her sweet voice filled his ear.

  “Thank you so much, Mark. I feel ridiculous, but your number was in my cell phone.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he told her. “Let me close up, and I’ll be there in thirty minutes or so.”

  She breathed loudly with relief. “Thank you!”

  “You get back in the car and stay out of the sun,” he advised, “but leave the doors open.”

  “I will,” she assured him. “I know the drill.”

  “And don’t get into a car with any strangers,” he added.

  She laughed. “I’ve had three pass me so far, and no one stopped to help.”

  “They must not be from around here.”

  “You’re right. No one from Ragland would do that.”

  He said goodbye and hung up. Before heading to the back room to find something to put gasoline in, he locked the front door. It was terrible timing, but what could he do? He couldn’t just leave her out there to melt.

  * * *

  A half hour passed before he saw Callie standing outside her car. It wasn’t unbearable heat, but it was still hot. He thought her hair looked damp around her temples and wondered why she didn’t pull it up. He’d always loved her hair in a ponytail.

  “Hi,” she said, darting over to the driver’s side of the truck before he could get out.

  “Are you doing okay?” Her face was shiny with sweat.

  She wiped her damp forehead and laughed at herself. “Yes, there’s a cross breeze with both windows down. I just got out when I saw a car coming.”

  Mark leaned over the bed of the pickup and pulled out the gallon of gas.

  Callie clapped her hands together. “Thank you so much. What do I owe you?”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Of course I do. You bought that and drove all the way out here. I know it’s costing you money.”

  He smiled before heading to her car. “Haven’t you ever had anyone do anything for you just to be nice?”

  “Not without strings attached.” She followed behind him, her shoes crunching on the roadside’s pea-size gravel.

  He started to chuckle but realized she was serious. “Maybe you ought to find better company,” he chided.

  Tall grass grew in tangled bunches on the side of the road, but she’d pulled over far enough to avoid any oncoming traffic. Smart girl. He unscrewed the cap.

  “I can do that,” she said. Gas gurgled as he poured the contents of the small container into the tank. The car guzzled every drop. The sun beat down on his shoulders, and Mark glanced back at Callie. “I know you can. How long have you been out here?”

  Callie pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. “Just about an hour or so. I’m fine.” Her face looked flushed. Perspiration dotted her upper lip and her forehead.

  “Looks like you’re melting to me,” he teased.

  “I’ve handled worse. You of all people should know I can take care of myself. I just forgot to fill the tank yesterday and didn’t see the low fuel light on until it was too late.”

  “Well,” he said, as he tipped the jug for the remaining gas, “you may want to keep a small can of gas in the back from now on, just in case
.”

  “I could have walked,” Callie said, shrugging like it was only a block or two back into town. “It’s just hot, and I have so much to do, and...”

  “It’s no problem, Callie. Besides, I’m sure you’d have done the same for me.”

  Her lips broke out into that charming smile. “Of course I would have.”

  “I believe you.”

  She held out some cash to him. “Here. Thanks for helping me out.”

  He ignored it, walked past her and tossed the empty container back over the tailgate.

  “Take it,” she said again louder, coming up behind him.

  “Your money’s no good here,” he joked. When he turned around, she stood close and looked flustered.

  “I need to pay you for the gas and your time. I bet you had to close the shop to do this.”

  Another streak of admiration shot through him. No one else would have thought about that. “I tell you what. I was going to head to the Grub ’n’ Go to get some ice cream, maybe a burger. You go with me, and I’ll let you buy.”

  Her face lit up. “I’m starving! We’ll have to hurry, but I’d love to buy you lunch.”

  He quietly laughed. “Do you want to leave the car here and ride with me?”

  She hesitated. “No,” she said, swallowing, “I’ll just follow you over.” Her thick brows lowered over her golden eyes like she was trying to hide something.

  Mark cleared his throat. “The Grub ’n’ Go hasn’t changed. Same old burgers and milkshakes.”

  “I know. I’ve already been in once since I’ve been back.” She pretended to look sheepish.

  “I know what you mean. I’m there every week.” Callie chuckled as he added, “Follow me.”

  He headed for the truck parked behind her car, but snuck a glance back at her retreating figure. Mark wondered if her mind was swimming with memories, too. She’d once followed him to baseball games, out to the lake and even to the Grub ’n’ Go, but that was a long time ago. This was just business and a neighborly lunch. At least that’s what he told himself.

  * * *

  Callie kept pace with Mark’s truck, resisting the urge to speed up. He still drove like an old man, slow and steady. She could do better than forty-five on a country highway.

  As they came into town, her mouth started to water. She pulled into the parking lot and parked beside Mark. As she skipped around her car to meet him, she teased, “The Grub ’n’ Go is looking quaint these days.”

  He beamed. “Quaint enough you’ll find yourself here more than you ever were.” Inside, the familiar smell of burgers drifted through the air along with chatter. He motioned for her to go ahead, but she stayed beside him until they stood in line together.

  Callie scanned the menu and decided on the bacon cheeseburger and a chocolate shake. “Hey.” She nudged him. “How do you know I’m not into health food now?”

  Mark snorted under his breath. “Because I don’t think you’re skin and bones.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be offended by that or not.” Callie laughed. She definitely wasn’t a beanpole, but she couldn’t eat burgers and fries every day. “I do try to eat healthy,” she clarified. “Salads, water, lots of protein.”

  He gave her a wink. “You don’t have to convince me, and burgers are protein.”

  Callie took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fried food with pleasure. “They certainly are.”

  They ordered, then found a table. For a split second, Callie’s glance drifted to the back corner booth where she and Mark had spent many hours with their friends, but she shook it off as they sat by the front window. She accepted that he still wasn’t much of a talker, so she got the ball rolling by talking about the farmhouse she’d just examined out in the country. He knew exactly where it was.

  Their order came quickly, and Mark thanked Gabby, who grinned at them both as if she knew a secret. Callie ignored the subtle approval and pretended to concentrate on her plate. “Oh, my,” she exclaimed through a mouthful of meat and lettuce, “this is still so wonderful.”

  As they ate, Callie told him about living in Nashville. He surprised her when he asked, “Did you accomplish what you set out to do?”

  She furrowed her brow.

  He shrugged. “Todd never says much.”

  “Oh.” Callie wondered how much Todd talked about her to Mark. “Well, I wanted to be an interior designer, and I liked the country music scene. So I moved to Nashville and found an apartment to share. My roommate, Tracey, wanted to be a musician, so she hung out at the honky-tonks. Two other girls roomed with us. Four of us in that apartment was tight, but I lived there for about a year and a half until I had a good job. Then I found something downtown so I could be closer to work.”

  “Did you go to school or do any real estate up there?” He stuck a fry in his mouth and listened, with his steady gaze.

  A flower of warmth bloomed in Callie’s chest. It felt good to talk. Sometimes she could hardly get a word in edgewise with Amanda. She shook her head. “I worked for an upscale furniture store and took night classes for a two-year interior design program.”

  Mark looked mystified, so she added, “The store was very fancy. It’s on Hillsboro Pike, you know?”

  He shook his head.

  “Kind of like Peachtree Street in Atlanta.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He nodded.

  “There were designers on staff, and I worked under them. The plan was to eventually open my own boutique.” She paused, then took a deep breath. “Well, that hasn’t worked out yet. That’s why I’m home for the summer. Amanda convinced me to give it a go here.”

  Mark gave her a sympathetic smile. “I wish you luck then.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. If it doesn’t work, I still have contacts up there. In the meantime,” she added with a sigh, “I’m working for Mr. Martin at the real estate office.”

  Mark took a sip of his soda. “So you’re going to try to open your place here in Ragland first.”

  “Yes, if I can find an affordable spot. I’m checking out the empty store on the corner of the square.” She shrugged. “If I can’t make it work in a few months, there’s always Nashville. In the meantime, I’ll spend time with my sister and her kids.”

  “Family time is never wasted,” Mark murmured.

  When their eyes met, she wondered if he was thinking about his parents or the mother of his child. She cleared her throat. “So what about you? Have you been working at the Antique Market since you came back to Ragland?”

  “Mostly.” Mark hesitated, but Callie knew to wait patiently. “After I joined the Coast Guard out of high school, I was based down in Florida. After five or six years there, I came back home because Mom was sick.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  Mark shifted his gaze out the window. “I had Hadley by then. She was a baby. I’d just gotten custody and had no idea what I was doing.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  He looked up suddenly. “My wife—her name was Lisa—we separated before Hadley was born, and then she died there. At the hospital, I mean.”

  “How awful.”

  Mark looked grim. “Yes. I was getting ready to reenlist, but I took Hadley and came home. Lisa’s only family was her father—a commercial fisherman. He wasn’t interested in getting to know his granddaughter.”

  Callie stared at her plate. It sounded like a heart-wrenching movie, not something that could ever happen to Ragland’s golden boy. When she looked up at him, he was watching her.

  “You were gone by then,” he said. “My parents were older when I was born, remember? By the time I was in my early twenties, they had health problems. Mom passed soon after Dad, and it’s just been me and Hadley the past few years.”

  Callie dipped her chin in sympathy. “Well, it looks like you’re doing okay.”

  He didn
’t agree with her but mused, “I know you lost your mom, too.”

  “Our mom died from a stroke two years after I graduated.” Callie’s mood sank and began to drag like she was stuck in a marsh. She swallowed. “I felt awful because we weren’t speaking to each other at the time. She was furious I’d moved so far away.”

  Mark didn’t say anything. He just nodded and let Callie go on.

  “We didn’t get along much when I was a kid,” she sighed. “I couldn’t stay focused in school, and I was more interested in talking or playing outside than staring at books. My sister was the good daughter. I was always into trouble even before I could walk.”

  “That’s not true,” Mark replied.

  Callie’s eyes almost filled with tears. She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I just didn’t feel like Ragland was for me. I mean, you were gone, most of my friends had left and Mom and I couldn’t get along. Then she was so mad when I left.”

  “Your parents were happy Amanda stayed here?”

  “Yes, but she never wanted to live anywhere else. Besides, I think my parents thought Nashville was just full of wannabe singers and musicians.”

  “Is it?”

  She grinned. “Kinda. I just wanted to find somewhere to make my mark, and I have. I can design, and I can make old things look new, like the farmhouse. Wait and see, my boutique will be full of beautiful, repurposed pieces.”

  “How’s that house coming along?” Mark raised a brow. “It’s the old Pierce house, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I don’t remember it much.” He didn’t respond, and she realized she was talking about herself too much. “Have you ever thought about going back to Florida?”

  Mark’s eyes sparked. “I still love the coast,” he admitted. “I think when I retire someday, I’ll buy a vacation house around Jekyll Island and stay in state.”

  “That’d be awesome. Right on the water?”

  He nodded. “That way I can fish from the shore and not have to take a boat out every day.”

  “You have a boat?”

  “Not right now, no.” Mark leaned forward. “But I know what I want. Something for fishing and high speed, but up here you don’t need anything much better than a bass boat.”